Satharn nodded quickly, seeking the chance to reach down and lift up either of the pair if he found a break in the melee. If not - well, he hoped at least he could keep on killing long enough for them to help themselves.
As the bolts exploded upon the ceramite plating and sent the Sorcerer stumbling, it didn't take long for him to fall upon one knee with the spear in hand, very much ready to push away any foes that came at him. The searing pain on his insides were a clear indicator now that he wasn't quite capable of being a fighter as he had been before, putting some of his psychic focus to 'pulling' the shrapnel away from his organs inside. It was painful, but it was a 'good pain', as he reluctantly considered it. It meant he was alive, and that he was keeping himself that way. Still, it wasn't long before the man turned to look at the rest of the group, seeing how they worked in tangent with one another. It was at least clear that not all of them were here as comrades, how they were more interested in their own lives... But Ausarius saw how they still knew that not working together could be the last thing they did. It pleased him to see teamwork, for once - even if merely for selfish survival - on this level. Not long afterwards, the Prosperan got himself back to his feet and raised his spear up on high, crackling his latent psychic powers through it - even if it did not do anything more than show off his strength, he at least would hope to do something more mental. "FIGHT ON, BROTHERS! SEND THESE CURS BACK TO THE WARP DISAPPOINTED AND HUMILIATED, LEAVE NONE STANDING! THE PLAGUEBRINGER IS OUR ENEMY - BRING OUR MIGHT UPON HIS WORTHLESS HEAD!" With that, the man would step up once more and focus his mind, tightening his grip with one hand upon the spear whilst the other pulled up the boltgun from his waist, taking aim at the Plaguebringer. In the split second between aiming and pulling the trigger, Ausarius felt a moment of sorrow as he looked upon the weapon. He saw the etchings and scratches along it that showed a fair few killmarks from his now dead companion, seeing the marksmanship that he'd honed for so long - each praised shot getting its own mark of honour. As his HUD linked with the boltgun in his hand and flashed up the ammo counter - a bit under full, he noted, even counting the handful of magazines he had taken - he watched as the iron sight came up into the general direction and soon near the Nurglite Scum's torso. The man hadn't wasted but a microsecond before pulling the trigger, his hate and pains pushing on onwards as the thundering roar of the bolt round soaring through the air followed by another, and another, and another - soon giving off a ten round burst into the foe's direction. Should he be lucky, he'd hopefully see some guts splattering, or internal explosions from such a weapon. OOC: One bolter attack at the Plaguebringer, one defense on self. If possible, an attempt to rally the group to fight on! @Colapse
Observing the motley gathering at the roadblock suddenly attacking, defending, biting and clawing their way out of the silmy reach and pestilent stench of a self-proclaimed salvation, it didnt take a logikant to deduce that the Plaguebringer was the sender of the vox-broadcast. Their, supposed salvation, a way of this planet - for a price of course. Or at least, Sobek understood his offer as such from his faraway position. Feeling a gut punch Sobek shrank in driver`s seat before one from the group released a shining flare of light at the overly bloated figure atop the ramparts. He was Cyrabor for enough time to reckognize an Apostle of the Many-Eyed God, his stench in the Warp had the shriek of ravens and rustle of ichor-dripped feathers. A Thousand Son, a object of his former reverence. A sudden clash with an object of his faith so soon was not something he counted on, given how the Apostles are rare. It left him with confused feelings of religious euphoria and revulsion. It only served to enhance his caution, deciding to not interfere, but inclined to use the group`s success or failure any way he can. As the stench of spoiled milk and the rich fragrance of summer flowers spread in the coiling mist, the undead rose around them, and even a few dead Guardsmen rustled to unlife around the cautious Sobek. The miasma of the Plagued One spread, engulfing the Mystic in his seat. It itched so savagely at his parts of the body that were still connected with or drawn forth from the Great Ocean, that he almost took of his mask, just to satisfy the craving need. The Astartes drugs still ravaged his biochemistry, but it also sharpened his instincts. Taking the initiative, he climbed out of the Land Speeder, unwilling to risk another machine. Strapping the leather belt of a massive bolter that Corbulus gave him around his back, Sobek took out his Webber Pistol in one hand and uncoiled his shocking whip in the other. Climbing over the hull of the downed Speeder, he jumped of it and into the bunker, the power of the Warp thick around the corpses and badly decomposed cadavers that begun to twitch. Piling them all in one place, he attempted to web them with his pistol, thus disabling them. After all, what he does not kill, cannot come back to harm him. OOC: Attempting to gather all the corpses that are around Sobek at one pile. Attempting to enweb them. Defensive action on himself.
Valeforia could only gasp when she was stabbed in the foot, and a cry of pain from the bite was to be heard from her over the small matter of being bitten by a zombie. Still, it wasn’t her time to be slain in her view, so she tried to get a little bit distance between her and the rising undead, even if they seemed to be all around the area. Course, the purpose of it was so she could have some time to aim on her targets, preferably so she could shoot the head to make sure they stayed down. Suffice to say, she readied her own dagger just in case she needed to fend off any more close encounters with the undead before turning her lasgun upon the undead which to her would be a far more fitting target than trying to shoot at Power armoured, zombified marines with a lasgun (given the effectiveness of such a weapon at power armour), even if there was a few unkind grumbles under her breath on the topic of the Marine Sorcerer yelling about fighting on. OCC: Balanced attack: Attack on the undead, defence upon herself.
"That skull looks familiar brother." Orghast began walking forward, heedless of the walking dead or the other struggling around him. Both forces shared his purpose: shambling horde bringing forth Nurgle's will, living souls looking to escape this blight-less world. They were not his Maggot Kin though. "Sower Fulvious used it as a locus for the Warp if I recall. Is it truly our lord who empowers you, or have you fallen just as far, and are hiding behind our fallen Sorcerer's own lost power? One last time Ukris, let us all pass from this garden, its soils are not yet ready for the sowing or harvest; let the living till them with hope and progress while we fester in the background." Face going deadly serious he regards legionary. "If you will not join me, or them, then I shall set you free of this realm without the Plague God's blessing." One last attempt at diplomacy, and then it would all fall apart into the regular fratricide that was so woefully common among the scions of Chaos. OOC: All-Out attacks from both Orghast and Doggy on Ukris is he denies this last diplomacy attempt. Orghast's attacks will all be with bolter while steadily marching closer.
<Diplomacy? More like Nurglemancy> @WanderingJester @DeranVendar @Uriel1339 @High_Adept_Zeth @Jorimel @Maleth @Kalle @Vulpas @Vlayden @Skarboy Bolters barked, chainteeth whirled, bodies were ripped into pieces, but there was no stopping the restless dead. Swarmed in their Chimera, Satharn managed to pull up both Valu and Fera up on top of the roof, from which they fought off the incoming corpses like heroes of some ancient tale. Corbulus drove into the Black Legionary and his his chainaxe made mockery of his opponent's armor but now matter how many times he carved into him the dead Marine just kept on coming. Retaliating, Alpha Wolf's blood began to flow from two deep gashes in his stomach where the chainsword went through. Nero fired his bolter on full auto now and destroyed at least dozen of these things however it didn't help him much as they just kept on coming. Power of the Grandfather spread even more, getting empowered with the slaughter and the sheer amount of fallen soldiers strengthening others to take their place. Sobek managed to neutralize one of the mounds by his pistol, the dead trying and failing to get themselves free of his web and even though they broke their flesh on it they still kept on trying. However then even more of the creatures started rising, threatening to overcome him and Valeforia who despite freeing herself from the immediate attackers, simply got swept away in the tide of dead flesh. Ausarius couldn't even manage to get a clear shot on the Plaguebringer, having to clear himself of the immediate threat in form of dozen dead guardsmen all carrying chainswords. His voice echoed through the area but whether the others fought due to his encouragement or simply because they wanted to survive he would never know. Xaviera saw Attelus managing to finally bring one of the zombie Marines low with no less then ten chops but he was then attacked by the other one, the Word Bearer who was still standing and not looking like he would relent soon. The psyker herself had the right idea and she managed to pull off couple of shots towards the Plaguebringer's artifact before she was surrounded by the undead creatures. Alas, the only thing that happened was putting couple of burn marks on top of the skull, the power seeping from it holding it together with ease. Overall, as even more creatures got up to join the fray, the situation looked quite bleak and perhaps the end of their suffering would happen right then and there if not for Orghast. "I...Ahh..." Ukris muttered as the other Plague Marine saw right through the charade. "I tried to find purpose...I was lost, the Grandfather withdrew his favor from me as well, but I managed to find Sower's skull and some of its residual power gave me renewed strength...I'm sorry brother, I thought I was the only one left..." lowering his head, Ukris grumbled as he stopped doing the ritual. Skull stopped shining and one by one, the corpses fell back into their regular dead state. Couple of minutes later the only "enemy" from the initial batch was the Plaguebringer himself and even though he seemed to have surrendered to Orghast's words, he still held to his own scythe and was ready to defend himself if needed. But before anyone could actually take their revenge on the confused Death Guard, the mist surrounding the hill began dissipating and everyone could hear clapping. Right above the road and on top of a small cliff was a figure in shining silver armor. Pale skin, long platinum blond hair falling freely behind shoulders on which no marks of legions or warbands were written and a face of a handsome super-human smiled back at the gathering. If you could compare it with something, you could compare the newcomer's looks with one of the Phoenician's sons before their eventual fall to Chaos. With a rapier-like sword which had a beautiful handle enriched with large purple gems locked on his belt he definitely looked a little bit out of the place on this barren wasteland of a world. Behind him and further up the slope everyone could see a dark shape of a Stormbird (with no markings on itself) surrounded by couple of horned figures (@Grall_Stonefist ), so there was indeed a way off this rock nearby! "Bravo! Bravo! I quite enjoyed the show! There is something alluring about watching last stands!" his voice was almost regal-like, quite fitting the looks and almost obvious patronage. "I see you got my message, although I honestly thought more would fight through but apparently my new friend below took upon himself to cull the meek," he pointed an elongated finger on the Ukris, "Thankfully, it was interesting enough to watch it, even though the fighters were crap. At least, until you arrived..." "I'll keep it simple so I don't have to inhale more of this foul air, this planet really turned into shit. I have a proposition for you: I serve a powerful lord who has a ship in orbit, despite the Despoiler's withdrawal and his betrayal of all of you, my master knew better and is ready to help those who would seek vindication. Come with me and swear your allegiances to him and you will be given another chance to fight and rise in power. Deny us and remain here on this rock and wait for the Imperials to come and pick you up." "And please, think fast will you? My mood is getting sourer by the minute. I think I'll need a proper bath when I get back on the ship."
Corbulus sneered as the Black Legionnaire dropped dead again, walking over to the body. If he had felt any pain from the two gashes to his midsection, he didn't show it. Only the fact that he had his helmet on did the Alpha Wolf refrained from spitting on the corpse. Slicing down with his chainaxe, he removed the head off of the corpse, even as the previous blows from him rendered it to the point where it was barely holding together. Picking it up, Corbulus added it to the other fallen Black Legionnaire from before on his trophy rack hanging off of his belt. Turning, Corbulus walked past the visibly relieved Nero and waved for the young astartes to follow. Seeing the threat now removed with the various corpses collapsing motionless to the ground, he walked up to the blockade, where the Plaguebringer looked almost sheepish were it not for the disease rot covering his helmet. Tempted to exact his vengeance here and now on this Ukris, the Alpha Wolf instead turned to address this newcomer with the Stormbird, ignoring pretty much all other combatants on the field. The very likely son of Fulgrim spoke of his proposition, with all the arrogance of a Phoenician. At that, Corbulus responded. "I am the Alpha of the Wolves of Horus and I swear allegiance to no one but myself and the dark gods. However, it would be reasonable for your master to expect something in return for safe passage away from this warp forsaken planet, so I have a counter proposal: you give me and mine safe passage, and we will offer our services to your lord in return. You mentioned vindication, so I suppose that your master is no ally of the arch failure. So long as that remains that way, I see no reason why we can't do business together." That was as much as the pretentious bastard would get out of Corbulus, even as his eye flickered over to the Plague Marine who had been his enemy before. Marking Ukris out in his mind for later, he would exact his revenge at a later time on the Nurglite for having the audacity to attack him, preferably when he didn't need to get off world from an Imperial Fortress World after just losing his entire warband.
<Everyone> The plan worked for a while, but in the end there were just too many of the undead. Dragged down by numbers alone, Sobek moved backwards from the bunker slowly to the Land Speeder, firing bursts of monofillament wire as he retreated. Firing the petro-chem power-plant back to life, Speeder slowly climbed on the invisible columns of contra-gravity. Swiveling the agile vehicle left and right, Sobek clobbered and crushed, turning them into bloody splatters of rotten biomass by ramming them with several tonnes of force. Then it all stopped as suddenly as it began, the dead stood, their heads tilting as if hearing an invisible command carried by the mist. Then they fell and mist dispressed with them. The opressive warp-stench that followed the foul sorcery, dissapated with it, but not completely. It remained in the back of his mind, as a tiny ich inside the skull that he can never reach. As a beautiful being appeared, heralding the offer of his supposed master that resided in orbit, Sobek scowled within his mask, the frown contractic his forehead into deep recesses of skin. Or at least, he imagined it should look like that. @WanderingJester @Maleth Driving the vehicle onward, Sobek parked it near the still-warm corpses of Black Legionnaires. Only by coming closer he noticed the diversity among the gathering, some of the beings he knew very well and reviled them, others not so much or didnt knew them at all. Noting the Techpriestess among them, Sobek observed her noticing the similiarity of form and function between them. However, she did not look like the ones he met within the Empyrean. Truly, the existence behind the Antilline Abyss held some mysteries for him. No wonder Abaddon wanted to despoil reality so much. A deluge of questions come to his mind, and just as he wanted to give voice to some of them, despite the circumstances , Sobek realized that his vox-grillie was still malfunctioning, and apart from a wet-gargle from his throat, there was no sign of his flesh voice either. "I am the Alpha of the Wolves of Horus and I swear allegiance to no one but myself and the dark gods. However, it would be reasonable for your master to expect something in return for safe passage away from this warp forsaken planet, so I have a counter proposal: you give me and mine safe passage, and we will offer our services to your lord in return. You mentioned vindication, so I suppose that your master is no ally of the arch failure. So long as that remains that way, I see no reason why we can't do business together." As the demi-god spoke, Sobek found him in concordance with his agenda, after all, the half-breed owned his life, or at least he was under such impression. Better to throw his lot with him, then pledge to some other warlord and be forced to do its bidding. Ignoring the grisly trophies the warlord took and displayed and its waist, Sobek approached Corbulus, offering him back his bolter with both hands, holding it horizontally infront of himself as if displaying an antique sword.
The Prosperan wasn't one to go wasting time, and as he pulled his boltgun back - glancing over to the Nurglite warily, but even he could see that this man wasn't vindictive. They halted their fighting, and as such he was willing to move on without a glance back. Still, the helmed gaze turned up to the blonde-haired man, a brief sense of paranoia coming through his mind. Who was he? Why is he here? Who is his 'master'? Is this a Slaaneshi Cur? Does he even owe allegiance to Chaos Gods at all, or is he like me in that regard? A few seconds went by, though eventually he glanced over to the... 'Alpha'. The one who was so arrogant to consider himself worth being spoken to in such a manner. The Sorcerer didn't speak to him directly, though his own words did eventually join his. "I do not stand with this wretch; but I do also not submit myself to someone else's wishes. As an ally, I shall accept - and I will be treated as such. Grant me safe haven, I shall ward your defenses. Grant me ship, I shall smite your enemies - grant me a plan, I shall foresee its probability." "But I will not join as an underling." The injured Sorcerer didn't do much else of course, now walking forward with his spear in hand, giving a slow nod to the Plaguebringer and if possible, limping over to stand himself beside the Night Lord. There was little to do now, but wait for a response and see what this man would~... Do. The actions of these mortals may interest him too, as well - for they seemed to have their own agendas past mere survival. A dangerous thing, but an interesting one. Still; his gaze was primarily towards this... Corbulus. The crackle of psychic energy coursed through the spear and along his fingertips, ready to act - not specifically at him, however this one seemed to be the most... Troublesome. He doubted anyone would argue if he was to erase his existance, even this bizarre 'master' that the blonde man spoke of.
Corbulus continued to ignore the other survivors even as two of them joined the closer gathering around this ambassador. Only when the heretek's bolter came to the fore did he spare a glance over. He had half expected some sort of futile attempt on his life when the weapon appeared, the Alpha Wolf's grip on the chainaxe tightened and ready to bite down on his target at the sound of bolter fire. So it was to his satisfaction that the mystic offered the weapon in return to the chaos space marine. Taking it as an offer of allegiance, Corbulus ignored it. "Keep the weapon heretek. Consider that the second of the many gifts you shall receive within my forces, should you swear your fidelity to me before the dark gods. Betray me, or hinder my cause, and you can expect that weapon at your execution." Corbulus had not forgotten his promise earlier about feeding the mystic piece by piece to a daemon hound should the heretek refuse him and briefly considered the merits of dismemberment via bolter rounds. That was until the Thousand Son strolled up, and began plagiarizing his words with an additional insult thrown in the Alpha Wolf's direction for good measure. While Corbulus have killed men for less, in the grand scheme of the situation at hand, he couldn't be bothered by such triviality. Should the sorcerer wish to consider him as nothing but an insect in the way, in time he would prove the sorcerer wrong, whether through his direct or indirect way of causing the Prosperosian's death. However, the warp energy that began crackling at the force spear in the Thousand Son's hand could not be ignored. Should the Son of Magnus wished to try for the Alpha Wolf's life, he would face a similar fate as those fools that followed Abaddon. "Tread carefully Sorcerer; remember the last time your kind decided to tangle with wolves. I do recall that your world burned, and the Wolves of Russ are but toothless and fangless whelps compared to the Wolves of Horus." Behind the chainaxe and bolt pistol wielding lord, Nero's eyes flashed between the speakers. While his bolter was not leveled at anyone in particular, he did have it at ready, able to fill the air between him and any target with bolts in a split second. @High_Adept_Zeth @Vlayden
