<Thû> Eyes snapping open, Thû finds himself hyperventilating involuntarily as his mind reels from the shock of translocation back into the Materium, still racing from the harrowing flight from...whatever it was that had noticed him. Scrabbling for writing materials, he feverishly sketches his visions from memory, as closely as he can reproduce them - the lone tower standing against a storm-wracked sky in the midst of a grey desert, the skeletal reaper reaping yet more skeletons, the burning human city, and, lastly, the silver dawn bringing incomprehensible change both wondrous and terrifying. Above it all stood that bird - that damnable bird - with its two heads, its blue plumage and its staring red eyes, always watching him, clutching at his mind with invisible claws. Having filled several pages with sketchings and notes, Thû stares at the skull-lined walls of his private sanctum. No stranger, he, to personal journeys through the Sea of Souls - indeed, he is closer than most, even psykers, to it, given the murky origins of his own subspecies in the damnation of the Eldar. This , however, is the first time he has drawn the notice of an entity so potent, and experienced revelations so profoundly troubling. Coming to a decision, he packs up his notes in a folder, which gets whisked away underneath his midnight-blue robes as he dons them, along with his ivory mask. A brisk, purposeful march takes him to the Archon's tower, where he makes a beeline for the library, scratching Gorm behind the ears as he passes the shade-hound. Esconced alone in the musty dimness of Zar'uil's library, Thû proceeds to pick out every tome, scroll and data crystal he can find relating to mind-travel within the Warp, its attendant visions and deceptions, and creatures associated with such. Deep within, he knows particularly where to look, and with a sense of foreboding, searches out especially all the lore he can find on the Changer of Ways in its aspect as a giver of deceptive revelations.
"By, 'Relief' - do you mean the typical sorts, or less carnal, and more miserably Craftworld-y, affections?" She asked now, turning back to him through the helm. Even if her tone was one that mocked him it was mostly just for show - her body language seeming mildly hopeful; the slight tilt of her head, how she leaned forward by a hairsbreadth on her heel closest to him. The Incubus wasn't under any illusion that he'd want her romantically; she'd seen far too many people in Commoragh to know that such things were an impossibility. Still, such simple affections always appealed to her, even if that unfortunately meant she'd also find the idea of leaving this accursed place for simpler livings, just as appealing. She'd go over and pick the door back up off the ground (she'd have to find someone to deal with this mess, she knew), and rest her halberd against it - heavy enough that someone would have to actually shove the door a bit to make it open. A bittersweet, too hopeful dream, she thought to herself on the idea of such... Different livings. ( @Wata )
Kaesar laughed at her. He laughed at them both. "We are all wretches here. Whores of our own desires." The laugh made his rib radiate pain all over his side, he winced from it. Seeing her prod the halberd against his broken door left him hoping for something which he didn't understand. Her words lingered in his mind a moment, "less carnal affections", which he suppressed. They were buried into his subconscious, still latching on like a desperate leech. However the knot he felt in his gut didn't vanish, for some unfathomable reason. He was a killer, a sadistic murderer who revels in bloodshed. Is there anything else but that to be found in Commoragh for Kaesar. More importantly, did anything else matter? "What else is there, darling?" Kaesar said, smiling meekly at her. He made some room for her on the bed beside him. "This city doesn't breed innocent Craftworlders." @Vlayden
<Library - Thû> @Draconion OOC hmmm I'm not sure what to write about Thû's discovery of Tzeentch that you already don't know Let's say there are only some books on basic occult lore available and that sort of stuff. It's a little bit difficult now to find a proper guy to talk to who's an expert in these sort of things but there will be one available after the next mission is done <Heltherith> @Maleth "Yes, a logical conclusion to your earlier efforts of leading troops into battle. I know that each of you have risen in ranks now, but none of it answers my question," the spy said, a certain edge creeping into his tone now. He was running out of patience. "What is that which your Archon has in store for you? What is his plan?" <Aesra> @kanila Khymerae indeed done their job, spooking slaves and pushing them to work ever faster. It drew a chuckle from Eliria, "Ah, be my guest - feed your hounds, they look like they are starving anyway, it's all the same to me. Archon is pushing lots of resources in rebuilding this factory complex and he doesn't care about slave deaths, nor Kabalite deaths for that matter, he just wants this complex up and running at maximum efficiency." "And sadly, I don't have my tools on me, but maybe once I'm done here we could figure out some sort of a meeting like the last time. I missed my favorite drinking buddy and I also wanna hear all about your recent adventure!" "As for someone asking around about you," she scratched her head, fixing back up her mohawk, "There's two of them actually. A sleazy Sybarite that I'm sure you're well familiar with and a local Hellion gang leader. They heard we were tight and they wanted to know a bit more about you, the regular stuff. Don't worry, I didn't tell them anything, just sent them back packing. Stupid fools think they can boss me around, the Slave Lord of the Crimson Moon?! Preposterous!" <Arena> @Grall_Stonefist Acid ate away through the frail flesh of the mutants, many of them burning and screaming in agony at the pain wrought upon them, Hetax feeling invigorated through it. Some of them died on the spot, while some survived, trashing as they now completely lost it. Reaching the melee range, Bounty Hunter saw as one mutant with a long sharp beak filled with teeth instead of proper mouth snapped its jaw right around the neck of one of the wracks, ripping its head off and dropping down to gorge on its corpse right before another wrack stabbed it through the chest with a crude hook, killing it on the spot. Another mutant came at Hetax, this one had long hoofed legs and a round torso with one arm ending in a crab-like pincer while in the second one it carried a long rusty knife. With a mad howl that had no place even on a crazy mon-keigh, it jumped at Hetax, hitting him with its hoofs hard enough to push him a bit backwards while narrowly missing to catch his chest in the pincer and then stab him to death. While this one was going all in, another creature, a mon-keigh with a curved horn coming out of the back of its head tried to sneak upon Hetax from behind and use a wicked-looking cleaver to slice at his heels and perhaps run him down on the ground. OOC feel free to do whatever you wish to them Spoiler: spoiler <Pleasure bar> @Kalle Whether Zar'uil received the message or not was anyone's guess for Kadara didn't receive a reply, but perhaps it was for the best. Archon would surely contact her when the time was right so maybe it would be best not to cross his thoughts a lot until that time comes, if nothing it was safer that way. Reaching the bar wasn't a hard thing now for her, if the crowd walking around became too big, she could just fly up and over them. What was also interesting is that during her short trip she wasn't approached by any of the local Scourges, before her ascension she knew that they existed since she saw them multiple times, both in and out of combat, however now she also spotted their hiding place, a couple of hollowed out points around the higher levels of the spire (but not too high enough to perch above Archon himself and risk his wrath) made their lair but so far, all of them remained content on staying put and not picking on the "newest recruit". Her size made it a little bit problematic to enter the bar, given how crowded it was nowadays, but then again she was a bit more famous now being Archon's personal officer and all of that, so she was quickly given a free table and a bottle of blood wine, on the house of course. Now it was time to relax in any way possible, be it with wine or with something a little bit more interesting. This was a pleasure bar after all! <Kholivaz> @Skarboy And indeed, this Hellion was simply not match for him, not even on his worst day. Kholivaz proved to be stronger than her as he caught the Helglaive in fierce grip, preventing the additional movement that could spell his doom while simultaneously proving to be faster, as his forehead met his opponent's face and nose broke apart in couple of little pieces. She screamed, the blood and tears momentarily blinding her to Corsair's followup move as he yanked the Helglaive away from her, making her loose balance and trip over the edge. However as a last ditch effort, the Hellion managed to grab the ledge with her hands, leaving her dangling above the abyss at Kholivaz's mercy. Suffice to say, the two remaining Hellions made absolutely no attempt to help their kin, instead they remained hovering close by and waiting for the outcome of the battle. They didn't look too disturbed with the fact this stranger might win the skirmish, after all it was the way of the gangs of Commorragh - kill or be killed, only the strongest survive to tell the tale and if Kholivaz was that one, they'll accept him as one of their own in a heartbeat (right before they try to do the same thing to him). OOC Feel free to end this combat as you see fit and grab your reward "free" skyboard is floating nearby.
She gave off a small scoff at that, reaching to pull her helmet off - the Commorite's eyes were tired, slight bags under them that showed a typical lack of sleep. "It breeds the envy for such people, at least." She muttered, going to sit beside the bed - not with him at that, instead just leaning her head on his knee if she was able. "I enjoy this life; being an Incubus is something not many would find possible, and it's an honour I treasure having. Though the simpler parts of lives that other races get is.... Appealing, I suppose." "If I can find some way to get to living that way, I'm tempted to take it, in the slightly distant future."
"And surely any Archon worth their salt would keep such information on a need to know basis?" Heltherith replied. She sighed in mock-defeat as if the spy had bested her in their game of wits. "However, from what I was able gather up as implied knowledge, I have a feeling for now he's focused on consolidating his power, and from there perhaps focus on expanding into the lower parts of the Dark City." Suffice to say, the Wych was pretty sure that going on about the truth which truth be told, would be something that could be seen as a rather ridiculous goal for an Archon to focus on, and would be much more hazardous to her health and career path than making up a more plausible lie.
Kaesar was a bit confused now and awkward. He always preferred life to be simple, with simple goals that were easy to enjoy, the Incubus shrine had given him just that. "Envy..." Kaesar repeated the word quietly, ruminating on it. He carefully brushed his hand through her hair as she sat next to his leg, gently his hand shook as he did so. He thought about wringing her neck and punching her teeth in to make her stop that kind of talk, but with those thoughts came disgust to them. That then made him realize something that was a precious commodity: trust in someone else. Kaesar picked up the wine bottle and took a drink, letting his other hand rest on Venessia's neck. He was quiet for a moment, just staring at the door and the halberd against it. "I am damaged, I cannot live like that. Here I thrive." He said, reflecting on his love for violence. Another long pause went by. "You've got nothing to fear from me, at least. Trust, if it means anything to you." @Vlayden
<Heltherith> @Maleth Whether the spy was satisfied with an answer Heltherith couldn't really tell, but what she could see were slight movements in his body, as if he was actually shrugging. "Expanding? That could make sense, after all he was in charge of rather aggressive acquisition of local territory, the rise of the Kabal indeed something to be on a look out for future references. But then again, that is not for us to dwell on such matters." "You did good Heltherith. If you learn something new be sure to remember it, it will help your cause greatly. The organization I represent already talked to some officers from higher ranking Wych Cults and they offered interest in having such talented individual joining their ranks. That is of course, if you continue being an asset like you are now." "I will contact again you in few weeks to check on your progress. So long," the cloaked figure finished and slipped back into the shadows of the slave pens, disappearing among the cages and the moans of the tortured and the lost, leaving Heltherith once again alone with her thoughts.
With the spy going at last, Heltherith merely gave a subtle wave as her goodbye. Suffice to say she was interested about the higher up Wych Cults apperently , but in a purely hypothetical manner given that it would be a big change from having her (perhaps relative in a Kabal) independence. Still, this was all a diversion from what she had intended to so, so the Wych went on with her food delivery/preparation of gaining slave informants, and hopefully they would be a good enough start. After all, they would help her stay on top of what was going on within the Kabal.
The Helglaive spun end over end, cutting vicious orbits through the tormented air and around the body of a Commorrite very much coming back to life; the metals that were morphed into the durable blades that cut through armor and bone, that could hook a hanging piece of stone from the spires of Commorragh to launch it's wielder off in an impossible direction, now bent to the spiteful purpose of cutting the ground loose at Kholivaz's feet... And straight into the bloodied face of his hanging opponent, a spray of chunked masonry, dirt, and broken glass greeting the woman who even now hung on desperately for life. His boots passed over the carved earth as the Helglaive rose up to rest across his shoulders, the Helliarch looking down on his opponent with a glimmer of mischief in his dark eyes. Kholivaz breathed deep in that moment, the waves of anger, humiliation, and terror radiating off of his beaten foe so thick that it practically overwhelmed his senses. "Never in all my years did I imagine I'd find a Hellion who was afraid of heights. What has become of you lot since my absence?" The question was posed to all three of those in his presence as he began the ascent to his dark throne, turning from his foe as he made his way to the now unoccupied Skyboard. His sash fell away from his waist to be tied around the lead rung of his prize, a replacement until a sturdy chain could be found. Across his stomach was the only unscathed stretch of his armor, whether by fate or circumstance that piece of midnight cloth and the armor underneath had gone untouched. Next to fall away were the soles of his boots, the odd segmentation of thermoplas allowing his bare feet to grace the control pad of the craft. The pair of Hellions who had wisely hung back during this brief stint now watched him and Kholivaz simply continued to smile beneath his mask. They might attempt to kill him, but not before another matter was settled. "Take your broken comrade back to Saghiar as a message. I won't waste the time or effort to send her plummeting to the abyss. After your Helliarch has seen my work..." Kholivaz began to rise, heels digging in and the underside of his skyboard bared to the pair, both a shield against potential reprisal as well as giving them a hint that he very much knew what he was doing, barrels of the built-in splinter rifles glinting at them darkly in challenge. This felt right, it felt more than right.. But exactly what sensations caused his wretched heart to now sing would have to wait for another time, as worlds of possibility arose in the Helliarch's mind, the wind whipping at his red-streaked mane and calling for him to come home. "Tell him that Kholivaz Scarnax, former Helliarch of the Crimson Descent has returned. And that once his business with the Kabals is done, he is coming for the Middle Darkness. All of it." And he was gone, the skimmer's nose finally capsizing and diving away from the perch.
