Savarel crossed his arm as he studied the image. A relic of the Legion and a powerful one at that, there was opportunity for great victory or great defeat, no middle ground in his mind. Their experiences with the Thousand Sons were few but so far slanted in their favor, yet that was a poor indicator of how any future engagements would go realistically. Just as their Chief Librarian had operational control the Sergeant intended to give Diabel even more of his ear than was normal.

"Do we even know where the spear is supposed to be located on the planet normally or are we going in totally dark Sir? "

Zuriel bowed and made the sign of the Aquila when Zaphen approached them, honored that he felt they were worthy of leading such an important mission. "Honored Chief Librarian, we are humbled by your faith in us. By the grace of our beloved Primarch, we will not fail you." Zuriel couldn't take his eyes away from the beautiful relic weapon that Zaphen was showing them. Such a blessed weapon in the hands of Traitors was a sickening thought. These withces would be cut down for their offense.

"I must inquire as to how the local population has been effected from this invasion? Are the kin slayers focusing on this objective? Or are they attacking major population centers as well? If so, we cannot let the faithful be butchered and mutilated."

Haimon shook his head at the politics of his now chapter. " My question is what we have for terrain and defensive stuctures to set up a staging point with."

@DeranVendar @Colapse @Avenging-Angel @TechCaptain @Keidivh @Jolojose

Zaphen nodded to the words he heard from Diabel, "Unfortunately, Brother Diabel, these weapons do not just work because of how powerful the user easy. The spear on Terra was know as the Purging Light and has killed far, far greater pyskers than yourself for merely touching it. Now, you mentioned you heard a voice when you used the spear on Terra, and this is more information on it than any others have given as they are all dead. I would say it is safe to assume that if you could touch the spear on Terra, then this similar relic may view you in the same manor. Though this is merely speculation and upon touching it you could vaporize into nothingness."

Zaphen looked at the Sanguinary Priest, "I know not of the state of the population, Zuriel. If this is anything like Terra, then you maybe familiar with how the traitors deal with the population. However, the best thing you can do for this population is get the relic. Saving a few lives is unimportant if the traitors get their hands on the spear, for they will destroy the entire planet."

Looking at Savarel, Zapehn spoke with a nod, "We do in fact know its general location. It is believe the great Cathedral on the center of the man island. How far bellow I do not know, but I would assume that even if the traitors get their hands on it, they will not move to far from where it is held."

Zaphen then looked to Haimon, "The terrain there is almost entirely city. As the main island is the only island populated, it has used almost every inch of land to house its population. I would not worry to much about defensive structiures though brother, as I am sure most have been destroyed as this planet was never meant to be a front for war. Just expect to make planet fall on the outside of the city and make your way in to its center."

"Not unimportant, of lesser import. " Savarel felt the need to correct the Chief Librarian seeing as Zuriel would probably be chomping at the bit after such a statement. "Regardless, we drop in, advance through the city and ensure the spear does not fall into enemy hands. Get us into a drop pod or a transport and this deed shall be done Sir. "

Zuriel bit his tongue when he heard Zaphen's remark, irritated that so many lives could be so casually discarded. He knew they couldn't save everyone, but to completely ignore their plight. If he could give his life to save but one citizen, it would be worth it. Nyk'tos had taught him that.

He was thankful for Savarel's remark, as it allowed him some solace, and not lash out at the Chief Librarian. "Indeed, let us depart while there is still a world to save." With no words left to speak, Zuriel took a moment to prepare for the upcoming battle cutting open his hand and feeding it to his chainsword and bolt pistol, before checking over his medical supplies, and ensuring he had his chalice. It was unfortunate they were being deployedso rapidly, as it meant they wouldn't be able to have communion. At least they could kill Traitors sooner. That was always a blessing.

"I see," Diabel nodded, "Well then, we'll just have to keep me long enough to find and recover that spear. Hopefully that won't be much of a trouble for my brothers," he added with a smile. He wasn't really thrilled with having to go through the spear episode all over again but if the Emperor intended of him doing it (like he obviously did once already), who was he to question the "order".

@DeranVendar @Colapse @TechCaptain @Avenging-Angel @Keidivh @Jolojose

Zaphen shrugged slightly before speaking, "I care little for opinions and more so for results. I expect to see those results as soon as you make planet fall." Zaphen then pointed his finger at Diabel, "And you, Lexicanium Diabel, will do full battle reports of every detail as they come." Zaphen then lowered his hand and looked to Savarel, "I would suggest, since you all are so eager, to head now to the Armory and gather the grenades and ammo you would like to carry with you. Haimon will help each of you will your weapons, should you wish to hear what it is they have to say. Then you -will- have Zuriel bless all your weapons, and conduct pre-battle rituals and rights. You now know what type of enemy we face, so a blessed weapon is an effective weapon." Zaphen then walked towards the door, but paused just before exiting, "After you are finished in the Armory, you will then head to The Cleansing Spear's hanger bay to be taken to third company's Battlecruiser, Witch Hunter. Is that understood, Sergeant?" He then continued to walk out of the room as he spoke, "I will meet you there."

------------------------------------------
Armory

Upon entering the Armory, they would see many serfs running around in preparation for the battle to come. Techmarines were all noise deep in work, speaking with the weapons' machine spirits and fixing them as needed. Since Savarel's team now had mission priority, all of their weapons and equipment were laid out extremely neatly on table waiting for them. Around that table was 6 serfs and 12 servitors to help them put on their armor, gear, and weapons, should they need it. After they had finished they would have their choice of bolter rounds to take with them. Before them were Stalker, Inferno, Kraken, Dragonfire, and Banestrike rounds. Grenade wise there were Frag, Krak, Blind, Stun, and a single Melta-bomb.

OOC: Each of you may pick two clips and two grenades. If you chose Melta-Bomb (which there is only one of so first come first serve) that takes both slots up. After everyone is loaded up, @TechCaptain may whisper to the spirits of weapons or equipment how he sees fit, and the @Keidivh may then bless all weapons. Afterwards, you may conduct pre battle rituals/ rights that have to do with blood.

<Briefing>
"Need not order us to partake in brotherhood Chief Librarian. Our mission is understood. Squad, fall out and supply. " Turning away Savarel marched out with his mind turning to matters at hand. Admittedly he was starting to notice a pattern of grating with authority figures at various levels within himself but the events of the past still lead him to believe that might of been healthy. Challenging where appropriate can keep such sorts honest, something that might of prevented such a horror as the Heresy.

<Armory> @Avenging-Angel
"Brother Viserys since you wear our jump pack I would ask you take the melta-bomb available to us. Your maneuverability and its destructive power would mix well I think, though if anyone has an argument about this please do speak up and share your wisdom. " Looking down to one of the Serfs he spoke easily to the man. "Kraken and Dragonfire rounds friend. " Though he would not abase himself like a Salamander by taking to a knee before the humble servant there was no outright derision or disrespect in his voice, always polite to their aids. Facing legion traitors, sorcerous ones at that, was a dangerous proposition but Savarel wouldn't risk his weapon with Banestrike rounds. Their effects on a weapon's durability was intolerable to him and Haimon's own mentoring over the years on more in-depth weapons care was to thank for this wisdom. Kraken could suffice just fine, and wherever the taint of Chaos awaited having an immediate source of fire, such as in Dragonfire rounds, was ideal. For grenades he would collect two kraks so that they would have some adequate armor busting power in the event of vehicles or terminators showing up. Their current weapon load out favored anti-infantry and to a lighter degree heavy infantry meaning the explosive power was sorely needed.

Were Haimon to whisper to Savarel's weaponry he would find chainsword and bolt pistol as dutifully dull in their spirits as any standard weapon. Bolter however carried with it quirks that had been developing since the incident on Signus Prime. It was eager to lay low those beings that were born of or served Chaos, the death of its previous owner a sin never forgiven and this obsession nurtured by the continuing actions of the civil war that ruined the Imperium.

<Fratres per Sanguinem>
With his primary weapons still laid aside Savarel produced his combat knife and patiently awaited for Zuriel to begin their ritual. When time came for goblet to reach his hands combat blade would easily carve across a palm, quickly curling into a tight fist so that the vitae could drip-drop then flow freely into their drinking goblet. For those that received his memories they would find themselves in the shoes of a much younger warrior, a simple scout set before a fallen captain being told he would act as Sergeant to a squad of his own peers. Exhaustive thoughts over training schedules and a voracious need to succeed. This all foggily transitioned to a chance meeting with Sanguinius himself, of his own visions and wisdom relating to their young squad feeding such things...it would all melt down to a single crushing weight forged in sorrow and disappointment, the death of their former Captain bubbling up to the surface as his head was cast from the ranks of the Emperor's Children. In the end it all boiled up to anger, bitterness and hatred absolute. It was at once similiar and different from the same nightmares and echoes that had come to grip many of the Blood Angels legion since Terra, toxic in a more subtle and lingering way than the direct shock of those who claimed to sometimes see Sanguinius dying at Horus' hands.

~Briefing~
Zuriel was admittedly surprised when he overheard he was to bless the weaponry they would be using in combat. This was something he had only just begun training in, and wasn't all to familiar with the process. It seemed simple enough, but he always felt he was missing something the elder Priests were doing. He was leated however to hear they'd have time to do their ritual. "Excellent! Most excellent! I shall prepare the blessings and ritual at once!" Zuriel didn't much care for this Chief Librarian so far. His disregard of the populace grated against him, but he understood the gravity of the mission. Besides, not like it would actually stop him from protecting citizens.

~Armory~
Upon entering, Zuriel took a moment to to look over their weaponry. Tried and true, these blessed weapons had shed the blood of many a traitor. There was nothing else he'd rather rend kinslayers apart with. First, he walked up to the bolters and bolt pistols. He knelt down, and stretched his hands over the weapons.

"By the grace of blessed Sanguinius, I bless these weapons with his piercing justice. May each bolter round sing praises to our beloved Father and Emperor as it tears into the Traitors. May Sanguinius guide each to its destination, and pierce any foul machination of the warp. No darkness can repel your light."

He walked over to the chainswords, bowing once more and lifting his hands up in praise.

"By the might of blessed Sanguinius, I bless these weapons with his righteous fury. Let each cut laid upon a kinslayer burn with the agony of a thousand wounds, that they may feel the weight of their sins. Let the very sound of their roar be a death knell to them, that they know their time of judgement is upon them. Whether it be a demons hide or warp armor, let it rend it asunder. No foul taint will escape your righteous purification."

Finally, he walked over to their armor, outstretching his arms as to encompass them all.

"By the spirit of blessed Sanguinius, I bless this armor with his unshakable will. Let each attack from the fell forces of the warp turn to dust, and the very act of touching it burn the demons and Traitors alike with our Fathers fiery spirit. Let this armor also remind us that faith, is as always our greatest shield. No machination of the warp can break the armor of righteousness."

With his blessings complete began the process of arming and armoring himself. After he fitted his robes across his power armor, he went over to gather his munitions. The first natural choice were Inferno rounds, to burn the heretics and Traitors alike in righteous, purifying flame. It was to kind a fate in his own opinion, but it sufficed. He next got some Banestrike rounds. He knew the dangers of using such ammo. They wore out a weapon quickly, and their origins... It made him twitch ever so slightly in rage to think about. He would need to ask Haimon how his bolter's machine spirit would react to this.

His chainsword he could tell was eager, and he felt would leap into his hand if the poor thing was able. A weapon forged of faith, zeal, and fury. Just like his owner. Zuriel wondered what whispers Haimon would hear from the blade, and sorely wished he could hear it. But it's song of battle would have to do.

<Fratres per Sanguinem>
After everyone was suited for war, Zuriel took out the squads ritual chalice, and his old dagger, from scared Baal itself. He stood in the center of the circle they formed, each with a guantlet off, ready for their communion. He couldn't help but think of the first time they did this before battle, on Terra. It made Zuriel all the more anxious. He took a moment to breath in deeply, entering a meditative state, as Jericho had trained him to do. When he opened his eyes again, it was if Zuriel was no longer there, replaced by another, his eyes glowing ever so faintly. He approached the newest of the brotherhood, firmly taking his hand. It was time to share blood.

“By the Grace of the Sanguinius, we are chosen to serve.” With a well-practiced strike he cut Jozai’s hand open, letting the blood drain into the chalice. He approached Haimon.

“By the Will of the Sanguinius, we overcome the terrors of the galaxy.” Sanguine rained down from Haimons hand.

“By the Might of Sanguinius, we purge the enemies of Man.” Viserys palm flowed crimson.

“By the Wisdom of Sanguinius, we are guided to victory.” Diabel’s palm poured forth his life blood.

“By the Honor of Sanguinius, we remain noble.” He sliced his Savarels hand open in a burst of blessed sanguine.

“By the Spirit of Sanguinius, we are unbreakable.” He made a deep cut into his palm, filling the chalice to the brim with beautiful red fluid.

"We are the defenders of mankind, the guardians of the Imperium's purity!" His voice reverberated within each brother, as an old but all to familiar presence descended upon them. "We are the harbingers of justice! The reckoning of the Traitor! We are the Sons of Sanguinius! His own Sanguine Templars!" His voice roared, Zuriel lifting the chalice up high before suddenly his blue eyes returned, his own self seeming to return. He panted a moment before lowering the cup, sweat noticeable on his brow, "Aye, my dear brothers. We are his Angels of Death." With great respect and ceremony, Zuriel knelt down and offered the cup to their leader Savarel, who as always had the honor of the first drink.

For any that received Zuriels memories, they would see a young scout. Bursting with zeal, with passion. One who looked to share his spirit of faith and fervor with all who would listen. This would suddenly and disorientingly shift to the battle of Terra, the young warrior caked in blood of both his own and that of countless enemies. They would feel each pang of guilt as brothers and innocents fell around him. Each one more he failed to save. It would continue to the final moments of the battle, where he and a handful of scouts stood before the sanctity of the Imperial palace itself. And it would be here that they would feel the scouts heart break, as his Father was torn from him, his ultimate failure not being there to die for him. Finally there would be a giant, clad in blue who wielded a cleaver, and cut his Legion to pieces, casting them away from each other. Yet when all seemed lost, they would see their squad gather around him, save him from sorrow and anguish. His blood brothers. His family. This would lead to a feeling of righteous fury and fervor, to go with his brothers to purge the unclean.