To much was happening to fast, much to fast, for Kooru, as his mind raced to keep up with all these developments. From the bellowing words of what lay within the box, deep, baritone, and booming beyond any mortal man, he'd been knocked to the ground, feeling a primal urge to cower before this force. This feeling was not at all aided by the arrival of the angelic being, and the sense of beaut and haunting ease he felt creeping into his body, mixing the the sensation of dread and ecstasy into a cocktail of confusion. To top it all off, was the hiss of the doors, the elevator summoning forth the host of this gathering, the leader among the divines, and no doubt the one who held the strands of fate within his grasp. Kooru struggled, his mind straining, as he looked upon the exotic, bizarre regalia that the sapphire being garbed himself in. He felt a slight nagging pain at the back of his skull, a pressure building from the sheer presence of the giant newly arrived, eyes flashing to the staff, to the sigils, the pauldrons, trying to take it all in. He'd never been among the angels so plainly before, and now that he stood before them, it took all his will not to break into a mess of tears, praise, and screams of apologies. As it was, the shaking in his hands had grown more violent, as from where he sat, he scampered back along the floor, placing his back to the box which contained the scary voice, his mask and rebreather hiding the awe and fear upon his face. From here, he'd listen, to the words of the Sorcerer, his phrases like the whistling of the winds, and all to hypnotic. He knew not the words he spoke, of Thunderhawks, or of Warp Drives, the titles of Chaos Lords meaningless to his mind, yet he could sense the importance that lay within them, and caught the idea of what he was expected to do. He would need to kill some people, people that stood in his path, in the path that took him to the Solar King, and for that task, there would be no questions.
@Vlayden @GobMaw_HellSmasha Lanius was neither impressed nor amused by Sorcerer-Lords words.Luckily it seemed that the old rag had ambitions to climb the ladder.Baron smiled behind his helmet, for climbing is what he is good at.Especially considering that the Lord of the Vindicators wanted to make a loud example of them.Hopefully, Sorcerer will be good at his word and not do it himself. But then again, he had no choice.Despite the way he arrived, they already did not appreciate him.Well....them. Listening to the dialogue between imprisoned Rotticus and this Pherosh, Lanius turned at the sarcophagus as the Ancient driveled his verbal rot all over this Tzeentchian. "Now, are there any questions before I send you on your way?" With a soft incline of a bow - the same one he gave many times to Leanna - he spoke, his voice animated now, sending pleasant harmonics Pherosh`s (and Leanna`) way. "Not to be dour as the Ancient here, but I have only have few of them.Sorcerer-Lord, you already know who I am and what I am.So my desires and query are awfully simple." Clenching his the fist of his right hand and gesticulating with it, as the runes on his helmet flared once or twice leaving pink afterimages on the retinas of the unshielded: "Considering we are at your mercy, I shall cut to the heart of the matter.What of the accolades and spoils?Is what we capture ours, or is there a special reward for the quest completed?"
Heros remained still, eyes focused on the sorcerer. Without looking, he drew his bolter from his shoulder, eyes still focused on the sorcerer as he drew a box magazine of bolter shells from his pouch and began loading it into his bolter. With a loud chink sound that punctuated the Baron's question Heros's gun was loaded. His mind was busy not on introductions, but on how to kill them all if things should go south. His most dangerous opponent was the Helbrute, but with a well-placed krak grenade (which he placed on the table along with a frag grenade) he could kill the shriveled rag that's inside that coffin. Tho he'd need enough time, so maybe throwing a frag grenade and killing that mortal would give him enough time. Then, he'd pick off that Khornate berserker, along with the Baron and the champion with his bolter. Then close in on that sorcerer with his gladius to finish him off. His mind was too busy formulating kill-plans for the sorcerer's briefing to rest in his mind. His mind visualized vivid scenarios, all of which differentiate in the variables of time and condition. With this in mind Heros's gaze slowly went downwards to his weapons, all thoughts of proper greetings and introductions gone. After all, they know his name..and his purpose.
@High_Adept_Zeth If the man smiled it was not visible, though a mere 'hum' seemed to indicate his amusement. "You may take what you wish from the corpses; however any Astartes upon them, the power armour is to be ours if they are of the... More recent models. THeir 'Mark 8', as it were: there is not much difference between it and the typical seven, however it has some improvements to the cabling's protective qualities; and some deals amongst the Dark Mechanicum would very much like for us to bring them such suits, in return for being able to attempt at manufacturing it themselves." "Aside from that," He went on, leaning back against the throne once more, the ceramite plating tapping against the back of it. "What you can carry is yours."
Solithar arrived at the bridge realising he had little time left before their mysterious benefactor wanted them there. he arrived shortly before this sorcerer made his entrance, a Thousand Son no less. Solithar listened to all his pomp and warnings, nothing new, hated since induction, hated since the heresy and now hated once more by everyone else. At least the feeling was mutual. All this talk of taking from the dead though held little interest for Solithar, only one thing was important and that was power, what power would he receive for this, he could easily got to a port somewhere a claw or two might end up being and then rejoin the Legion, it might be shattered into a hundred million pieces but they were the only thing Solithar could claim being part of. "Sounds like you're putting us up on the chopping block. The only incentive you've given so far is trinkets from the dead, might convince a beggar to go into death's embrace but you'll have to do so much more to get my approval of such a mission." Solithar had lived through countless battles, some others would damn the Night Lords for cowardice, but many who made such claims ending the graves that were going to hold this Night Lord in particular. Night Lords make sure the odds are always in their favour, and try to stay away from the fight whenever they aren't. This sounded like he was being put on the firing line in case anything went wrong it'd be their arses that'd be burnt. The Midnight Clad armoured giant remained impassive as he spoke and watched the Sorcerer for his response, he knew their kind, couldn't be trusted in the slightest they always had either a scheme up their sleeve to screw everyone else over or even when trying to help ending up exploding taking many around with them. It had been a while since Solithar truly wanted to be a bolt round in someone's head. He was kinda glad he did, made him feel like he was back before the Long War, the good old nights you could call it. Solithar chuckled to himself with such a notion.
@BruticusTheGoreHound Ishamel did see a figure nearby. A so called 'mortal' like him - though all the figures here were mortal in the end. The figure seemed to be having a sort of sensory breakdown from the number of Astartes in the room. Perhaps he saw the Marines as divine. Foolishness. Divine was an empty concept, after all. He approached the fellow cultist. "What's got you in such a state?" He asked calmly, making sure to add a edge of (feigned) sympathy to the tone. He would need allies in the future, and he might as well start with a fellow human.
@Azathoth From where he sat, Kooru watched the exchange of the giants, the words cast between them illuminating his own understanding of the divine. Here the angels bantered and spoke with one another, a palpable tension in the air with so much power gathered, Kooru still feeling an ache in the back on his mind continue, trying to avert his gaze from the sapphire being's staff. His hands trembling upon his knees, his eyes darting around, he'd try to gauge the look and purpose of each being, making connection with the old religious fables his parents had taught him in his youth. His gaze first fell upon the crimson being, who simply radiated with caged violence, going through his weaponry before them all. A warrior, a soldier of the heavens, he could sense a savageness to the dress he garbed himself in, and would conclude that this one served a singular purpose. To shed the blood of his foes, making pools from the ichor, as he'd heard others scream before, on his travels. Truthfully, he'd not have his stare linger long on the red armoured one, as he did not wish to offend, or worse, provide a false challenge for a mistaken blasphemy. With that in mind, he'd quickly notice the being clad in shadows, each of his movements seeming measured, possessing a lethality in his steps. Much like the violence of the other, Kooru saw that there would be a menace to the words spoken by this dark angel of the night, and was immediately reminded of the old tales of the Nightstriders, the servants of the Solar King who dwelt in the shadows of the moons. He'd be well off not to bother such an illustrious one. His gaze only flitted back over the angel of illustrious physical form, the one who emanated with awe and glory for all to see. Not for the first time, he'd note some of the other people, the mortals like him, slowing their gaze whenever it passed over this one. It seemed he was not alone in the attraction he felt towards this divine being, and he would be sure that if that was the case, he would not be along in fearing what that would mean.... Kooru would be looking back towards the blue demigod, yet his thoughts would be interrupted by a voice addressing him. Mercifully, it would seem this one did not belong to the ascended beings, but to another mortal. The man, garbed in robes of onyx black, would seemingly not seem to be affected by the grandeur of standing in the company of angels, and looked curious as to why Kooru would be so reverent towards this situation. He'd tilt his head, clear thought apparent from his body language, before responding in a hushed tone. "Because...I've waited lots of years....to get a chance at being here.....And now that I'm here...It's all so..." He'd struggle with the words, as Forrick Kooru was not a man who would be exquisite in his wording. His hands shaking from the thinking, he'd let out a sigh, before simply continuing on the best he could. "It's nice to know everything I've done has been worth it so far....."
"Hm." Ishmael replied, nodding. "Well, congratulations I suppose. You made it. Standing among the angels." He returned to listening to the Helbrute's taunts. A lot of energy for a rotten carcass. He thought. Very jovial. Probably someone to earn the good side of.
Fortissimus wasn't particularly impressed by this plan but it was only when the Night Lord from earlier said more or less what he was thinking that he spoke up himself. "I'm in agreement with the Night Lord. This seems less like scouting party and more like suicide mission. Even the smallest Imperial ships have crews numbering in the tens of thousands so unless you're sending in another few dozen Astartes after us or a few thousand other troops... how exactly do you expect us to capture this vessel without just being rather unceremoniously gunned down by a few thousand Armsmen?" Even under his helm it was clear the gaze under it was one of someone who was likely going to be unimpressed regardless of the answer given for one reason or another as he crossed his arms and simply stared at the sorcerer.
Heros's neck snapped towards Fortissimus, not that calculated slow movement but a fast tracking movement that made his neckplate make an audible snap sound of ceramite slapping against each other, "We Astartes are the angels of death" his deep booming voice intensified by his vox speakers "we were born to kill" he puts an emphasis on that word his booming voice getting even deeper "and even so, not all of these guardsmen are going to be in the same place" he points a finger at Kooru "mortal men fear us, you, Nightstrider" his finger now being pointed at the Night Lord "should know that any mortal man sane enough would fear an Astartes these would make them less hesitant to face us". He continues by looking around "We were chosen by the Vindicators, we know our strengths and weaknesses, we all have a part to play if we are to succeed". He pulls off his helmet, the lock on his neckplate giving a hiss sound as his pale bald head was shown. His green eyes focusing on the sorcerer "I am a legionnaire of the Alpha Legion, we are born of the shadow, I can play my part" he says, placing his helmet on the table with a loud clang
