~~ Astartes HQ ~~ The message came late, even after the Council made their announcements regards the other artifacts but it eventually arrived at the council hall by the hands of a Vox Operator who hurried, giving the content in text form to Force Commander Astaroth. "WHAT?! The Blood Angels will not ally with the Eldar!" he handed the message to the Dark Angels Master who quickly read over it and shook his head in denial. "What has become of the Space Wolves?! Xeno-Sympathy? Russ would have denied such action." Immediately Antiochius was informed who opened his vox Channel to the Force Commanders, including Eldritch on long-range communication systems over the Thunderhawk which was enhanced by the communication tower in their front-outpost. "Do not expect me to guard them, but that truce is blessed by the Ultramarines. The Tyranids killed of an entire company. Let the Xenos fight eachother, but do not make it a permanent thing, Eldritch."
Suddenly explosions of acid and vile gas erupted around the planes, both thunderhawks were badly damaged from the combined trials of the storm and tyranids. As the flya started to tilt downwards, junk flying backwords as the nose tipped downwards wurrtek stopped fiddling and strapped in. The other flya flew smack dab into the mountain, Wurrtek's, by the grace of Mork (or Gork), it bounced off a ridge instead and skided over the fields, near the hill the eldar occupied during the standoff before the ork assault. Most of the orks died in the crash, leaving only the kans and deff dreads. Wurrtek had strapped himself in, unlike the rest, so he only had minor injuries, but he wouldn't be running around. Edit: OOC: not sure if this has your blessing Urian, please say if not.
~~ 'Electrocuted' Flying Tyrant Crash-Site ~~ The Tyranid had been hit straight by the Artifact's powers, it affecting him in weird ways, alternating his structure and form. It growled in pain as it's eyes glowed bright in purple light. The power of the Generator used him as an Energy Conductor as it did with the Celestial Stairs to create a Lightning Storm. But the DNA and Bio-Mass within the Tyrant reacted differently with the unknown heritage of the sarcophagus that still spat Lightning here and there as it was crashing down on the ground. The Tyrant opened it's mouth wide and produced some sort of egg, as big as an Astartes before dieing in pain, it having completely burnt out from the inside as if the Bio-Mass had been actually absorbed along with it's life energy to produce the egg and the perhaps life form within.
With chaos erupting as hundreds of thousands, if not millions of Tyranids arrived on the scene and fighting among each other, DeRojo orders his unit to faint back to the SW of the current location. Eventually, they would begin to move due NW from said rally point as that is the position they were told to get to. With the Tyranids leaving his unit alone, DeRojo figured something strange was happening; something the likes of which he could not predict. How could he predict anything when another storm flashed as eerily colored lightning flashed through the air, creating avenues of visible energy in its' wake. Since the Tyranids which began assaulting his unit were now being re-directed away, DeRojo and his unit pulled back. Luckily enough, however, they received radio confirmation of reinforcements and new developments. High above, Tyranid vessels could be seen in orbit. Tyranid flyers were in combat with Orks and tyranids were fighting other tyranids on the ground. 'Meet at the Rendezvous point, there are new developments. Full Blood Angels forces will be available. Coordinates for retrieval will be sent in time, as of now, meet with the Thunderhawk on approach. You will receive further instructions as you are updated once aboard.' The command and information was sent to each vox of DeRojos' unit. As DeRojo and his men strap into the Thunderhawk, he is briefed on the intel he supplied. The photos he took had captured the faint glow of an artifact. Details on it was sketch, at best, but they pointed out that the artifact was only discovered after a full analysis of the images were conducted. Unable to truly tell what it was until after the Fleets sensors were directed to the location of DeRojos com relay. From there, the Blood Angels vessel witnessed the incident involving the Orks and the Tyranids. 'So..' DeRojo began, 'This artifact is of such grave importance that even the Tyranids altered their behavior to secure it and are now fighting amongst themselves.. I can not wait to figure out what this ancient relic truly is'. Keeping a relatively low altitude, the Thunderhawk soars towards the drop point. ::EDIT:: With the Tyranid Pheromones abandoned by DeRojo and his unit, the deadly decoy to distract any flanking Tyranid force was now left to happen-stance.
((Conversations are in Eldar)) Selhiat had turned to the Force Commander and had listened the booming vox-caster's response, and while he waited for the Space Wolf to answer, he was distracted by an ominous light to his left. Lithinian was brought to his knees, his eyes glowing a furiously strong blue-white and small spurts of arcane electricity danced between his arms and head, being directed into the ground. "Lithinian...what is happening?" Sel asked, apprehensively approaching his friend. "Ai cald'gaduur baalshamas'i ds'real," Lithinian chanted low in a language older than Eldar, "beesre'ka fallsjae'rumapoda ftaghn!" The marching Space Marines, already hard-pressed to 'ignore' the Eldar, stopped and turned on Lithinian, raising weapons cautiously. "Eeerrgh!" Lithinian grunted and fell forward, leaning on his staff as the electricity dissipated and his eyes returned to a normal luminescence for a Farseer. The tension in the Space Marines evaporated, though they were slow to remove their eyes from the xenos. "Things are progressing quickly, Autarch," Lithinian warned in Eldar, "more artifacts have been revealed." "More?!" Selhiat said, exasperated. "Yes, six more have arisen, three in the sourthern arctic, two beneath the oceans and one on Gaia, where the Dark Angels are now redeploying." "This sounds bad, tell me what I can make good of it." "We must take what we can before anyone else can move in, I will show you where they are," he explained as he took to a map and pointed them out to Selhiat. "Sel to Maenlianar." "Autarch? We are ready for redeployment from the Nexus." "I have a new deployment for the Iyandi, appoint their Spiritseer to command and send them to the points on the arctic I'm sending now. New artifacts have appeared and we can take advantage of our enemies' over-investment in the Celestial Stair. The Wraith units should have no problem with the cold and cruel fauna. We should be in and out with them in hand before the enemy can hope to move in by the sky. Other artifacts have appeared under the ocean and on Graia, but we will have to leave them for now." "I'll alert them, but what of us?" "The Ulthweans will hold for my order. I need you in reserve. Stay at the Nexus." "Understood." "Autarch Lissia to Selhiat," his beacon chimed before he could turn away. "Speaking." "Sihiria has notified me of new artifacts ripe for the taking. We are changing targets and moving in on Gaia before the Dark Angels' thunderhawks can hope to move around the entire planet." "Please try to minimize engagement, I could only secure a truce with the Ultramarines and Space Wolves, please do not antagonize them more, it's hard enough as it is." "So you failed? Can't say I'm surprised. The mon'keigh are not so swift to reason." "Well this isn't helping!" "So? We have our objectives, they have theirs." "And you're about to make them contradictory!" "And I'm sure you'll find a way to deal with it. I have my target. Good luck," she finished, closing comms. Selhiat fumed. This was going six feet under.
Shaking himself awake, the big mek unbuckled himself and surveyed the damage. Every ork was was dead except for hima and a couple shootas who had hidden themselves from the crash in a digga. Loading the artefact on the back of a deff dread and climbing aboard a killa kan himself, they started their long exodus back to the encampment. He called for reinforcements from his camp, mounted on battlewagons, it wouldn't be long before they arrived to get the artefact back home with speed.
Skarlm narrowly avoids the incoming projectile, the round detonating against a nearby rocky outcropping and showering him with bits of stone. The whispering voice vanishing in the sudden adrenaline rush. Two more bolter rounds pepper the cliff below and Skarlm growls at having to retreat from so distant a foe. "Accursed sorcery!", spits Skarlm, as he low crawls back towards where he'd ascended to his current position. The winch and bolt pistol were still operational and rapidly he descends to join his fellows preparing to assault the ruined fortress. After securing his grapnel and maneuvering rapidly through the dense rocky terrain, Skarlm bursts from cover some distance to the rear left flank of the Space Wolf force. "Wolf Lord, this is Threadcutter. I am approaching from the rear left flank. Do not fire. Repeat. Do not fire." The force of Wolves and Angels arrayed against the traitors was a sight to behold. The Angels seemed to be readying for some kind of artillery strike. Surely fate would be kind to Skarlm and give him the pleasure of matching blades with the damned traitor marine that dared whisper into his mind. At that thought Skarlm felt intense fury boil over in his mind. He could feel the hot breath of the wolf on the nape of his neck, the stink of flesh and blood fresh on its breath. We will have our vengeance, he promised the wolf, even if it kills us...
Celestial Stairs: North Western Front Coryphaus Dorvin grinned, the veteran had doubted the enemy would assault their lines, and he admitted to himself he had looked forward to pouncing on the old foe had the battle for the stairs worn them down. But now it seemed their brother Legions had new designs, shelling the mountain to dust and their forces rallying to support them. The aid was appreciated, but the loyalists and the xenos were now rushing a well fortified position. The trench of the base of the ridge had taken heavy casualties amongst the Forsaken Guardsmen, the ridge itself sustained heavy bombardment. When the advance came the brothers made the enemy bleed for every step, volunteer squads agreeing to hold the line onto death as their brothers fell back to the secondary position. Each warrior, assured of his purpose, fought tooth and nail as the enemy overran the lines, the blood of their dying struggle reddening the the trench work as the line fell. Dorvin's laugh thundered into the heavens as the enemy claimed the ridge, the outpost having served as little more than a communication hub, the Lord was away with the armored column, his Anointed en-route to give aide to their Black Legion brothers joining the fight. The crescendo of the grizzled warlords amusement came as the Astartes raised their banner high along the ridge, having slain the last of their martyred brothers and taking the outpost. As the Imperial fools rallied their men, waving the banner of the False Emperor in bravodo and glaring across the ravine to the second Word Bearer line, Dorvin detonated the melta charges. Originally, they had been planted to deny the Tyranids recovered biomass should they have attacked, but its current use to fell the old foe seemed to bleed the favor of the dark gods. The scream of the inferno washed over the Word Bearers lines, the death screams of countless enemies emanating into the Warp. The second wave of enemy crested the hill, they were met with punishing artillery; daemonic engines, entrenched tanks, and the fire of both Brother and their mortal allies cutting down the enemy as they attempted to cross the narrow lowland between the opposing highgrounds. The shallow valley soon mired in enemy dead, their gore pooling into a blood swamp, only a brash few attempted to hold the charge as they were soon sifting though the death bog, their sprint slowed to a crawl. They were cut down by Legion fire, and the rest of the enemy were forced behind the starting ridge as the scorched trench work dissolved under committed artillery, supported by swooping furies and sniper fire. Imperial City Ruins Urlox gave a final gaze upon the twisted ruins of the Imperial graveyard, the Firebrands had been ordered to withdraw from their kill, along with a majority of the cult troopers, a select few zealots had been chosen to remain in the city as an insurgent force, detonating buried explosives, and ambushing any relief forces that might return to the city. Thus was their charge onto death. The Firebrands themselves were heading north, in support of the Warpsmith Szovarrus on Lord Yuri's behalf. Labyrinthinia Lord Yuri beheld the blossoming structures before him. The main spire of their nine infant Gehement towers rivaled that of a small mountain. At each tower, a hundred captures were put to the sword in dedication to the Chaos Gods, their heads and hearts removed and thrown off three corners of the towers. The gore rained upon Legion hopefuls chosen from the most impressive of the cultists and the forsaken guardsmen met each other in gladiatorial combat at the base of the spires. Ringing the towers, Acolyte attendies mounted stolen soul stones taken from the Eldar dead, imbued with the neverborn so the xeno may scream into the ages. The Warp Song was strong, and the Storm above spiraled around the daemon city in glee, blood raining on the reveling warriors below. Its twisting torrent birthing neverborn manifest forthwith from the immaterium. As the ceremony came to its conclusion, the warp storm was tethered to the Gehement complex, with the blood of enemies of the Great Powers, the storm would grow, protecting the new Arkhona in the immaterium's dark embrace.
