<Kholivaz> The Storm Guardian looked over his shoulder as he continued walking, "I will give you more than poison, should you wish to continue this conversation further, old one." With that he rounded the corner. First opportunity, he would take his leave of the Anamnialocii. Perhaps join a group of Corsairs, for he could not spend his time with just Craftworlders. Tyrelhien and Astora had shown that well enough. There was no life for him here other than a death sentence for when he finally snapped and sent some fool like the Artisan to a painful afterlife. I am after all a Commorrite.
<Architect> On the other side of the mess, the Knarloc charging at the Host was stumbled by the Reaper - it's left arm ripped off by the shot. The creature roared in pain and headed his direction. Visethianne stood between the two, blade in hand. He was unmoving until the very last second...
<Amriel> The Corsair aimed carefully, he would only get one chance, and if he messed it up...they were all dead. The Corsair levelled the lance, aiming to catch the beast in the eye, where the lance would bury deep into the soft part of the skull before exploding. As the Vyper swings around the Corsair brings the lance to bear and slams it into the eye of the beast, holding on just long enough to ensure the lance penetrates into the skull before he lets go. The lance penetrates nearly a foot into the Knarloc's skull before detonating its charge. The thick skull of the beast works against it, serving to amplify the blast inside it. The other eye is blown out of its socket as the creature takes a couple more steps and collapses.
<Architect> Minnaloushe lets out a victorious war cry, arching her neck backwards and letting her hair bob loose. "Yeah! That's the way to do it, Amriel!" The Vyper spun around the collapsing creature, which splattered several combatants underneath, ready to lay covering fire to the rest of the Host.
<Architect> Upon the bridge, the Seer laid his hands upon the holo-map, thinking of every vision he had seen and every unaccounted and newly discovered variants. "So you believe this can work, captain Khaeeva?" "Yes absolutely. Trust my words," the voice replied. The old man chuckled. "Younglings."
<Architect> A waypoint appeared for Kholivaz, Desek, Rharijem and the Scorpion Exarch, leading them to the escape pods.
<Artisan> The old, exhausted man just sat down somewhere close to the entrance, waiting until someone would approach him. They knew he was there - So he would wait until they would approach him. Zryas-Vehd just entered when "Younglings." was said.
<Aspect Warrior> Rharijem was irritated and blinked a few times, then sighs and nods. He was to follow orders, not to hunt his own goals. And so the Mymearan Crimson Hunter obeyed, with Shuriken Pistol on his waist he made way for the Escape Pods.
<Amriel> The Corsair grinned and matched Minna's warcry, an old one from the Vent that they let loose on boarding actions. He then turned and surveyed the situation from his higher vantage point and noting the threats posed to the party. Two shots from the Shuriken Cannons sliced out, carving the hound on top of the Ranger in two before it could grab his neck. "Visethianne, get your group into that group of tents near the gate, hopefully that will throw off any of the Kroot looking for us. Liriasol and Vethellien hold position, we'll come provide covering fire and get those damn Hounds off of you." The Corsair's voice was commanding. OOC: Off for the night!
<Desek> The Warlock was roused from his slumber when a Guardian called into his room which was still wide open as the Shaper's had yet more important task than the repairing of simple door ways. "Mmmm....what? " "Your presence is required within the Pod Bay Warlock. " "Delightful, head to the Armory and tell themt o have my equipment ready if you would? At least as ready as it can be. " "Right away. " Rolling from the bed and dropping onto his arse the Iyandenite rubbed the grogginess from his eyes before springing up and taking to a brisk walking pace toward the Armory. The Halls of Khaine greeted him and a Servicer was prepared with his equipment aiding him in swiftly redressing. His armor was intact though the robes were still tattered, his blade remained chipped but at least he was given a new shuriken pistol, it would all serve admirably as his mind was still sharp. Soon enough he was at the waypoint pinging incessantly through his helm's visor.
<Farseer Aranethyr> "Can you believe our captain, Zryas? She wants to flush our warriors down on the planet, in escape pods." The woman beside him smiled and followed: "small enough to be undetectable, fast enough to be there in the cycle... It's rudimentary, lacks elegance, but it's-" "Perfect," cut the Seer.
