The sucubus had allowed it, and the hook had flown true, hooking the pretender in its barbed hold so the real duel could have kept going without interuptions, but this clearly wasent a gladidatorial ring, and he seemed to be one of the only ones respecting a good duel, over a mere butchery of the interloper.
As the wych proved her youth by choosing to engage him now, just proved his mental point, too bad that he wasent and artsy fighter, with the pretender pulled close, Hetax quickly moved his lower right arm to get its barbed metal claw around his curret marks neck to persuade him to not fight back, while he despite respect for the craft, was in no mood to fight a wych on uneven turns, so instead he used his remaining hand to fire the splinter shotgun at the wych, the paralysing poisen should be a nice surprise, and keep him from killing the wych unecesarely.

Upon hearing the voice Ave'ras' smile only grew. He chuckled lightly at Aerith's last comment before turning to face him smiling widely at his old companion " Aerith ! So glad you're still alive and in one piece , or at least seemingly so" he laughed lightly at the joke while his eyes ran over the other kabalite breifly resting on the weapons on his hips before carrying on. Ave'ras' hands rested on the blade dangling by his hip " Oh this little thing ? I happened to procure it from some fellow who really loved his animals" Ave'ras' tone left mo doubt on how the man "cared" for his beasts 'Thought itd make a nice memnto mori, you never let this thing out of your sight , it was your pride" he chuckled again hoping his old compartiot had caught his jests well enough .

<Yrara's laboratory> @Vulpas

Surrounded by the screams of his experiments, Yrara's work was finally about to be done. With the almost unlimited supply of flesh and subjects to work with, the Haemonculus finished the major portion of the task given to him by the Archon and these were the results.

Sixty-two wracks were created in total, twenty of those being the support wracks while the rest were the ones he prepared for melee. Sadly, those twenty support ones suffered many malfunctions and weren't behaving as needed, so their overall usage was under question although they could at least fill the cannon fodder role since the other part of his wracks turned out to be almost perfect in every shape and form - the Archon will most likely be very pleased with them.

As for the rest of the more experimental ones, Yrara managed to create five working spider-wracks since the process of creating them as host carriers for the eggs he initially planned backfired on him and many of those eggs either unhatched prematurely while still inside the wracks and thus killing them from the inside out, or simply failed to hatch at all, getting bigger and bigger until they exploded and killed the wrack alongside.

Besides them, given the limited supply of Ogryn slaves and the longer gestation period for the bigger monstrosities Yrara created only two Grotesques with added version of butcher's nails to make them even more aggressive. As for the raptor beasts, the strain of DNA he used turned out to be rather flawed with many errors inside that he could repair and rewrite, but in the time frame given to him by the Crimson Lord he only managed to pull out two such creatures, which wasn't that bad given the circumstances.

Finally, consider the effort he put in all of the other stuff and the fact his new assistant was quite new in this and required more training, his work on Talos pain engine would have to be finished some other time and the machine would not be ready for the upcoming raid.

All in all, he could be satisfied with the result and whatever happened, the Kabal will have plenty of Yrara's creation to use in the next battle which was always a proud moment for any Haemonculus. The only thing left was to see how they behave in proper battle conditions, but as the things were turning out, he wouldn't have to wait for that much longer...


<Introduction> @Jorimel

While the rest of the Crimson Moon kabalites were busying themselves with finding new gear, checking their new homes and so on, another stream of newcomers was being processed. By the order of Archon Zar'uil, the Kabal of the Crimson Moon was hiring once again in order to fill the gaps where needed. The majority of these newcomers were simple soldiers because Zar'uil was in need of more meat shields like any other ambitious Dark Eldar Lord, but between all those "stock" troops couple of invites went for those who had more skill and could serve as lieutenants in the rising Kabal.

The latest one of those was a Dark Eldar Wych called Keshariel Ilestrion.

Managing to find him wherever he was located at that moment using the means known only to those winged warriors and their masters, Crimson Moon's Scourge messengers delivered the message in short time. The message was simple - "Lord of the Crimson Moon invites you to join him for a private audience with the opportunity for employment open for discussion." Since Zar'uil and his Kabal were making a name for themselves in these parts of the Dark City, this sort of an invitation could prove to be just what he needed if he wanted to rise up in ranks and power.

If he deemed this invitation worthy of their attention, once he arrived on the Nether Gale plateau, he would find the fortress of the Crimson Moon right in the center of it. Its walls were bristling with guns and armed guards, while its gates were open to allow hundreds of slaves to carry supplies inside from the Kabal's newly-conquered territory. There were also some Kabalites going in and out - now that most of the surrounding territory was under Crimson Moon's control the chances of crimson-armored warriors getting shot was lower than before, but it also meant the proper patrols to secure the perimeter were needed as well.

His invitations however would allow him to pass through the first ring of defenders and reach the great gates of the fortress itself, where five figures stood apart. Four were Kabalites armed with splinter weaponry, their armor of similar shade of dark red like on the flags above while the fifth one was a tall warrior armed in half-segmented crimson armor with a silver kheitan below it. His long black hair was tied in a topknot and his face betrayed his old age and even older hatred, which he carried with himself proudly. In his hands he held a great halberd, the style and the type of the weapon as if dropping from some ancient tale, although that fact didn't seem to trouble this warrior in the slightest (OOC copying from my older post a bit to speed it up, hope you don't mind).

At the moment, he was looking outwards as if waiting for the particular individual to come up with his courage and approach him (and the walls behind from where the automated turrets could turn you into paste easily enough) to ask about employment...

<Thû>

Thû had been carefully defleshing, cleaning and inspecting skulls taken from the raid on the Severed Hope when the Archon's messengers found him in his quarters - a dingy, shadowed attic in one of the outbuildings that he had selected himself after considering several alternatives. Sighing inwardly, he laid down the half-cleaned skull of Zalaya.

Kheradruakh would have to wait.

Now, he stands in the armoury, swathed in midnight-blue robes and wearing his featureless mask, as he waits on Kouron's pleasure along with Ave'ras.

@bossaroo

In response to Ave'ras cordial greeting, Thû bows in courtly fashion to the veteran Kabalite.

"Sieur Ave'ras. Charmed, as always," he says, careful to keep to the mellifluous accents and honeyed forms of address of high Commorragh, "I trust the day finds you well? As for my reward, well...who can say, 'til yon chest of treasure is opened?"

With that, he proceeds to undo the clasps on the chest and opens it. Reaching inside, he removes a fat-barrelled pistol lined with electronic indicators and gauges, now inert for a lack of power. A slow grin spreads across his face as he recognises a Gorgoroth-pattern Haywire pistol. Carefully gathering up the pistol's peripherals, he gives the pistol a thorough field-strip inspection, then slides a fresh power pack in before returning it to its holster, now strapped around his hips.

"I trust the question has been answered," he says, turning to Ave'ras, only to find him in conversation with a Sybarite.

"You can say that." Heltherith begrudgingly replied, with her brows furrowing at the laughter of Eliria as she was not wishing to admit being outfoxed on that occasion. And well, she had her reasons to avoid being so outplayed which were mostly to do with her past. (Not that she'd admit that was the case in public, given it was also a hint about prime manipulation material that she didn't need in anyone's hands).

Kaesar walked around the wounded wych, he lifted her up by her arm she still had attached. From behind her, he took eye contact with the one wych who had been more passive, and grabbed his victim by the chin.
With his knife he slowly slit her throat very deep and held her in place by her head, pushing her forward a little so she was hanging on her weak legs by his grip on her hair.
Slowly, the wound grew larger and larger by her own bodyweight as her legs fully gave out, and eventually the body slumped to the ground without it's head between it's shoulders.

Despite being an utter mess of wounds and bleeding heavily, Kaesar was smiling under his helmet. Visibly showing his pain in his movements he picked up his klaive and tossed the head aside like a used toy. Whether he was actually unable to fight back properly, letting the spectators enjoy watching him suffer, or deceiving his opponent, was only known to Kaesar. Who truthfully embraced the pain and these do or die scenarios.
"Now then, shall we continue. Looks like it is just you and me." He took a fighting stance and approached her slowly. "Want to grab a drink later?"

The Severer approached the walls of the fortress and looked at the massed ranks of defenders both seen and unseen that lay before him. This was to be expected; indeed, in a worthy employer, it was to be encouraged. After all, if he wished to work for someone of note, then being able to provide a decent sanctuary for those below them was another way in which an Archon could show their power. Keshariel knew well the ways of display and conspicuous consumption. And of course, it did not even need to be said that the defences were a blunt show of power to any would-be attackers.

He adjusted the set of his fur-lined coat minutely, enjoying the feel of the heavy cloth as it swirled as he strode forward. The fact that he was covered from neck to ankle was a novelty, but it was also plain for any Commorrite with half an eye exactly what he was: a Wych. It was in his grace. It was in his movement. It was in the way he glanced to every corner of the fortress not only to check for attackers' weapons trained on him, but to check that everyone was looking.

The Wych paused and, with the slightest nod, walked up to the old warrior in half-plate. This one was clearly the senior. Being truly old in the Dark City was a feat few could manage. The Haemonculi did it, but their ways were unfathomable. Keshariel weighed the odds and decided that any soldier who would allow his age to show so much was clearly hoping to be underestimated. The sheer contempt for everything - up to and including the ravages of time - brought a hint of a smile to the arena performer's lips. He couldn't imagine doing it himself, of course; that would be verging on a crime against looks such as his own - but it took a special kind of spite. He took the invitation out and held it in his left hand for the warrior to inspect.

"I am Keshariel Ilestrion, called the Severer," he said, his well-modulated voice carrying an edge of respect but no deference, "and I believe Archon Zar'uil is expecting me."

<Pleasure bar> @kanila @Maleth

"Well that's unfortunate," Eliria smiled and emptied another glass, "My advice to you is - play the game on your level. Archons, especially those old as Zar'uil wants us to believe he is, are creatures of ancient malice and they have played the game for a very long time. Trying to outsmart them is not something I would do, but if you really want to try and influence things, you should do it with your peers and those slightly above and below you. That's how you advance and after enough centuries have passed, maybe you'll get enough power to try and give it your shot in the big man's league without dying horribly in the process."


<Armory> @bossaroo @Draconion

"Well that's a low blow right there my friend!" Aerith laughed although it was clear that he wasn't that happy with Ave'ras finding out about his earlier fight with the Beastmaster. "Ï don't know what he told you, but he ambushed me quite deviously, killed some of my men and robbed me of my possessions before I had any chance to react. If only he was alone and not in the company of his creatures that it would've been a different story..."

Suddenly chatter stopped as the Dracon entered the armory, Aerith winking at Ave'ras and disappearing back among the weapon racks as Kouron made his way towards him and Thû. "I see that our rewards made way to you," he nodded after spotting the crates in front of two warriors. "Those items will help you in our upcoming raid. That's also the reason I wanted to speak with you two."

"Lord Zar'uil is satisfied with your performance and wishes to extend his gratitude by giving you greater responsibilities," without any introduction he simply continued, making sure he was as clear as possible. "Once the Kabal goes on a raid, your team will probably be divided due to the necessities of the enemy defense and various objectives that need to be completed. However whatever happens, you two will make sure the orders from the Archon are completed to the letter, thus elevating you above your peers. For this, you will need two things."

First, he handed each of them a small signet ring with the symbol of the Crimson Moon on it, the item easily carried in a pocket or below armor. "This is the symbol of Archon's authority and these are the means to enforce it," he said and ten warriors entered the room. Five were warriors in kabalite armor similar like Ave'ras was wearing that stood near Ave'ras and five were dressed in thick leather armor with long cloaks, heavy hoods and wicked-looking swords that positioned themselves near the Mandrake. "These warriors will follow your every command and will help you to make sure Archon's will is done."

"Also, the others will not be informed of this and I also expect that you as well keep your mouth shut. You will have the authority but you will hide it from others and act upon it only if they deviate from the original task. I also expect that, if you do a voting for your leader, none of you asks for leadership and instead remain in the "shadows" as sort of a reassurance that everything goes smoothly. Finally, if you abuse this position for your own gain and with that compromise the mission, better pray that I get to you before Zar'uil's hound does."

<Thû>

"Curious. Is this task not usually the province of the Incubi?" muses Thû quietly as he slips the ring into a belt pouch.

"Nevertheless, honoured Dracon, Thû accepts with gratitude, and will endeavour to live up to expectation," he adds with a grave bow.

"If there is nothing else, honoured Dracon, Thû must withdraw enow. Sieurs Ave'ras, Aerith - bid you both good day."

Bowing once again with a swish of robes, the masked assassin leaves with silent, gliding steps that lend him the illusion of floating while swathed in his voluminous cloak. Blending into the shadows of the doorway, he doffs his robes and then flits his tenebrous way, first to the kitchens, where he steals several slabs of fresh, bleeding steak. Pausing in the shadows of the kitchen outbuilding, he proceeds to rub the steaks all over himself, thoroughly saturating his skin and hair in their juices. Riding the shadows once again, he makes his way for the Archon's spire, slipping in the front door the way he did before.

This time, however, he proceeds to rub a steak along the walls and floor, leaving a tantalising scent trail for any large carnivore that may happen to be around. Round and round the trail goes, always circling away from a straight line. Every hundred or so steps, Thû leaves a steak before padding his silent way forward, keeping both ears out for signs that his offerings have been found and enjoyed. His eyes, meanwhile, scan the interior of the spire, wondering where his current employer might be located, so they might have a word in private.

Ave'ras stood quickly to attention when the dracon entered the amoury and began explaining his new role in the crimson moon. He nodded before letting his eyes run over the new kabalites measuring each indivudal kabalite from how they looked. One was slouching , if they didnt give the Dracon respect they wouldnt respect him . He'd have to each them , he struggled to stop his smile from growing past anything slight.

He took the ring with a cordial nod and made sure it would fit underneath his armor. "Thank you sir , i'll will make good use of this" now that the dracon had arrived Ave'ras smiled as he removed the splinter cannon from the crate the weapon greatly complementing his new role in the group " may i take my leave now sir ? I belive i could use a bit of training with my new armament" as Ave'ras hefted the Splinter Cannon from its crate he turned to his old friend "Care to join us ? Maybe we can make a wager or two , win this " he tossed Aerith's knife in the air "back" he left with a chuckle as he walked knowing Aerith couldnt resist a good bet, now to contact that beast master