<Tyr> The xenos ignoring him was immensely frustrating, but it was better than the alternative, and so he decided to continue firing at the damnable xenos.
Xileas wound in pain, twisting and turning like a worm cut in half, clumsily rolling around in the mud, the Dark Lance lying some ten metres away from her. It took her minutes until the pain faded enough for her to slowly regain composure, lying face down in the riverbank's dirt. As a realization dawned on her, her hands moved over her armoured legs, panicked. She touched them, starting at the hips and moving down, and down. She felt nothing. The Scourge sat there in silence for a moment, staring at her legs. No sensation at all. Nothingness. The implications of this were tremendous. They'd eat her up. They'd kill her. Xileas was a star once. Now some pathetic wretched Warrior would take her as a cheap slave to fulfill his depraved desires. Or some Haemunculus would turn her into a Grotesque. Or some beast of Commorragh would simply find and feast on her, putting the glorious life of Xileas to a pathetic and painful end, no matter who'd be her ultimate killer. Then came a small, relieved chuckle. Of course she didn't feel anything, she was wearing armour and just couldn't move her legs because her hips were shattered or something like this. Her desperate laugh slowly subsided as not even the Scourge believed her own lies. She had been powerful, once. Now, her body went slack, lying on her belly with her head looking sideways towards the battle as a tear, a tear sprung from equal parts of desperation, pain, and outright, basic fear, rolled down her cheek for the first time in her life.
Knivives- the incbus coughed up blood as he felt his left hand torn away from him the blood flowing down to the deck. now he was a bit disabled he still had a grip on his glaive but needed his other hand but now that it was gone.... the others would have to finish this without him he would now only get in the way of the mission And he could repay his debts another day. He looked to the side and with rage in his eye He jumped down with his glaive at his side aiming towards the bridge somewhere near there scourge that seemed to have taken a bad landing.
<few hours later> With raiders stolen, prisoners taken, and warriors slain, the Kabal of the Bleeding Edge returned to their archon with their prize and a half-dead Scourge to put back together. Arymea and the others that did not require first aid gathered in the throne hall. The slaves were taken by other members of the kabal and the raiders at the garage to be fixed up. They had now two almost falling apart raiders and one with moderate damage but in poor quality. Judgment of the Archon was now to be received....
Kormaily Standing in the throne room he still hadn't had a chance to grab his booze. He would have a great buzz from the lingering effects of the toxins. "Can we hurry this up already?" He was glad he was the least hurt because the 'Mad Doctor' would be more focused on the others. He would rather just sleep off his injuries than to subject himself to that torture. *EDIT*
Necros Peaking out from behind the Archon's throne, Necros took in the other members of the Kabal. 'The Bleeding Edge has fallen on harder times than I ever thought possible. This will never do!' "Tasteless! Utterly without taste! You lot, get the white winged pile of scraps to my basement. Then those of you with a desire to improve your lethality, stay and I'll turn you into true beings of death and art! ... If I had my tool! Please tell me you brought back from your raid some things of value? Of the chemical, cutting, and bodily variety? Without it I'd say there's little I can do for you or the half-dead scourge. Such a pity that would be."
Xileas (Or what's left of her) The traces of tears still clearly visible on her face, a sadly much too awake Xileas stared to the side, slack over the shoulder of some nameless serf of Necros. Her wings reduced to hanging shreds, and her body full of bleeding wounds slowly crystallizing, she couldn't bear to meet the gaze of any other Kabalite in the room. "Please", she weakly pleaded to the Wrack carrying her, "please don't disfigure me." The former Wych had already seen what happened to those who caught the attention of an Haemunculus too well, and she did not want to be turned into one of the distorted beasts they created from everything that happened to be in reach when they were bored.
"Doubt it, Haemonculus. Better join next time, if you are even capable of fighting, given you want to ensure you get what you need." The Trueborn complained, as Xileas was being transported. "So what's next on the agenda, Archon?" Arymea wanted to know, either eager to hear the verdict or to get back on the field... Or both.
Necros The trueborn Meshael carried the injured Xileas with delicate care, having since been taken under Necros' employ. Necros walked alongside the two, eying the scourge's wings with new interest. 'Everything looks accounted for, some spinal damage, puncture wounds. All easily fixed.. With the right incentive.' Necros raises his hand to halt Meshael. The barely concious Xileas' eyes seemed confused by this. Suddenly she is filled with pain. She screams in surprise at the sensation, turning to see one of Necros' talon like fingers was invasively probing her spinal wound. All the while giggling to himself. He finally takes notice her questioning eyes, "Hello specimen No. 4. Now by not disfigured you mean stay relatively the same yes? Well then good news! That all depends on what you're willing to Endure and what's in it for me?" To emphasize his point, Necros twists his finger on Xeleas spine. She feels incredibly intense pain, but follows by a jolt of motion in her legs. Walking was now very possible... after a bit more tweaking of course.
"Fix her up or you get a shot of my Shardcarbine into your neck!" Arymea yelled from the distance. "To let you live if she lives is the deal. If she dies on your table or is not herself after taking care of her anymore, then you are dead. As easy as that, got it?!" The Trueborn meant every word of it. Though it would be a mystery to one or the other why she, who had argued with the Scourge so strongly before the deployment to suddenly protect her so strongly.
