It is time... Grath told himself as he let the cage of will within his mind break. The fiery soul of what one could be considered his 'Warrior' self once more free. Burning brightly within the confines of his mind. Fiery. Enlightening, and wholly destructive. Maybe it was his own personal visage of Khaine, or something wholly else. But it definitely did not enjoy confinement. That is something he always could tell. He was never truly sure. And was not willing to delve, just enjoy its guide and control. Becoming a son of War. Much like his Eldar brethren. Flexing his hands around the pistol grip and foregrip of his Avenger Catapult quietly. Then the words came... "ENGAGE!" The Serpents Pilot yelled. And the hatch opened to the interior of the Imperial vessel, whilst Visethianne was the first out. Grath left little time lapsed before he jumped out into the hanger. His masks HUD lighting up with targets from multiple directions as he heard Vise's shout "Exterminate them!" "Death to the Mon'Keigh!" He shouted in response, opening up a tightly controlled salvo of Shurikan fire from his rifle. Letting his body and targeting programs do much of the work calculating the shots onto his target-whom was a small congregation of Imperial Guardsmen whom were desprately trying to keep themselves from fleeing in utter fear at the Eldar raiders which decided to wreck their day. Not much was in the way of the monomoleculer shards-or rather blades, as they sliced into the flesh of the Guardsmen. Hacking off ones arm and gutting another. Making one clutch at the tangled mess of organs that sprouted out of his stomach, spilling out like a small waterfall of blood and gore. Meanwhile the third whom had not gotten hit in the first salvo-had enough courage, or fear, to fire back. The lasgun did little to nothing as it went wide of its intended mark. Clipping the shoulder plate of Graths aspect armor. Leaving a small singe mark...
<Architect> Behind the Sororitas squad laid the only unsealed exit from the hangar, the host had to neutralize all ten of these zealous humans to proceed. However, from behind these Sororitas came another squad to reinforce them - these ones wielding heavy weapons capable of destroying the host's Serpent - a Retributor Squad .
...Grath dispatched the last of the Guardsmen with no remorse. Whatever sick belief these things carried with them until their death-it did not matter if it was a false, dying god, or that the dirt below their feet was the true god-they were going to meet their end today. Better targets of his wrath though were left, as the Sororitas were blocking their exit out of the hanger. Aswell they had backup coming in. How nice of them to send more to play with us. He said quietly to himself within his mind. Before shouting: "We need to break through their line quickly!" To his brethren. Opening up with several controlled bursts of his rifle at the Sororitas, trying to split up their ranks and maybe hit one or two with a few stray shots as they flew in. A couple did hit their mark, burying into the carapace armor they wore, and finding a few open spots in the armor to make the women shriek in pain from the agonizing pain that followed. But that was not enough to down one of them. So he decided the best idea was to find cover, since four opened up with their bolter weaponry, explosions from the shells hitting around him as he dove for the shielding cover from a broken part of a ship-not exactly sure if it was of Eldar or Imperial make, it did not matter, it protected Grath. And that is what mattered. From that position he continued to lay down covering fire, popping in and out of cover so his kin could readily fight without pure harassment once leaving the Serpent.
OOC: May I simply assume that Mr. Pilot who desires to kill my guy is still alive through taking cover and basically the aircraft rubble guarding him from being killed directly by the Eldar that climb out of the Wave Serpent?
As the Aspects charged out Liriasol knelt in the shadow of the open doorway, scanning the battlefield in the blink of an eye. There. On the balcony above the hanger - already littered with the wreckage of ships and men - a small group of women-warriors, the shocks of white hair and fluttering ribbons of their strange battle-array marking them out. He sighted up on the one in the centre, a tall, broad female built like a grox. She was barking orders into a comm-unit, gesturing right and left to her soldiers. One brought up some kind of heavy weapon, pipes and cords leading to a backpack she carried indicating some kind of primitive flame-gun. The Ranger exhaled and took his first shot, hitting the unit commander in the centre of her forehead. She died, her eyes wide in surprise, too stunned to do more than topple backwards as blood began to spurt. The woman next to her opened fire but did not know where in the battlefield the fatal shot had come from, spraying bullets wildly. Some scattered against the door of the Serpent and Liriasol ducked back, reappearing the next second to take aim at the backpack-carrying warrior. He'd intended to take her down, quick and silent, knowing the mess fire could make of the more lightly-armoured troops on a battlefield. But at the last second, warned perhaps by her Corpse-God, or by luck, the woman turned, and his shot clipped her backpack instead. There was an explosion . A bloom of flame, and the spilling contents ignited as the fuel unit burst asunder. The bearer died, those next to her wounded and coated in liquid fire, their struggles mercifully brief. Liriasol shot one as she burned, a dull horror in the back of his mind viciously supressed. He was here to bring death. Swift and sure and without mercy or compassion until their goal was achieved. The Ranger sighted up for his next shot.
Kara had spotted the approaching Sisters of Battle and she was about to deploy the hunt-and-kill of the Spider Ascendant to jump in behind the squad, sowing deadly webs amid their ranks and leaping out again. But just as she was about to do so, there was an explosion, and fire blossomed among them, neutralising the front few and forcing those behind to regroup. A segment of the arachnoid intelligence within supposed that one of the Humans' primitive weapons had malfunctoned. How fitting. Instead she turned her attention to the wreckage of the brace Crimson Hunter that had served them as their grim herald into the hangar bay - something caught her eye there, something was not as quiescent as a grave should be. Kara jumped in, seeing that the pilot was still alive and needed backup. The Warp was cold today, a swirl of silver amid black lakes that shone under forbidden stars. She took no time to stop and look, to observe or to listen to the siren call that always seemed to know her name. The instant was gone, and she landed on a tottering piece of engine-block, instantly ducking down and scuttling in front of her fellow Eldar to lay down covering fire as he recovered himself. "Well met again brother," the Spider hissed, firing her left spinner out towards the nearest foe, "that was bravely flown."
"Well that works..." The Avenger said softly as he watched one of the Battle Sisters ignite and became a monument of flame. Spreading her burning, glorious death unto her sisters. Awashing them in flames. Replacing the magazine to his Catapult after its recent tirade of rounds, he continued to fire without a beat missed. Working to keep the white haired women from gaining ground. One of the wounded Sororitas he had hit earlier, was finally downed by the recent burst from his Catapult, having found her neck, ripping open the soft flesh like a hot knife through butter. Spraying her blood over another sister at her side.
<Architect> With the enemy fighter's engines destroyed by the Wave Serpent's fire, the human pilot had no choice but to jump from his cockpit to seek Rharijen and kill him... He was bent on doing so before he died. "I downed you, bloody Xeno! And I will finish you by hand!" He yelled to the Nightwing's corpse, loading his lasgun. To the side, the conflict was fast and all-consuming as two of the enemy troops focused fire upon the downed Eldar fighter, aiming to kill the Warp Spider and the pilot while the rest of the squad focused on pinning the Avengers, Hawk and warlock down.
OOC: Gah I go to bed and miss everything T_T TIME FOR SOME MAYHEM FOLKS! <Desek> Pulling back from their Pilot's body as they made the landing Desek heaved a sigh and turned toward the exit directly left of himself and slipped out into the fray. Immediately he could feel the change in his allies auras, having only been semi-aware of even himself whilst focusing on guiding their Pilot, where life had once been in the fore it was no replaced by something...restrained, something hollow. Feet touching solid bulwark the Warlock was forced to suppress long drilled in instincts to shift his stance in preparation of the coming combat, no longer the Path of the Reaper was his to tread but nor was his duty of devastation over. Drawing his Witch Blade Desek's back arched a brief moment feeling the raw surge of power that came with a small spark of his energy being fed into it's coil and thus fed back into him so many times greater. Taking a deep breath as he conjured up his first bit of sorcery for his own engagement, and as the blurred shuriken slid from Catapult so did Warlock sprint from Serpent. Hardly did his feet leave the solid surface beneath him instead moving in more of a gliding slide as he enhanced his own agility beyond that of it's own natural grace that was the birth right of his kind. Enemy Heavy Weapons were positioned above them, a pair of stairs flanking that walkway were the most direct route to them and even then the Warlocks halved off a few seconds as he ran up the railing and leapt the last few feet toward their position. Casting his free hand forward a rolling wave of force struck the warrior women, throwing down some or only staggering the most resolute of them. Closing in he caught one woman mid-fall, driving his blade clean through her neck before spinning about in a whirl of violence to part another as his blade clove through her armor. So it had began, Desek born to the warrior's role once more, with no small amount of relish and horror encompassing his mind. OOC: Will post Redren in a moment!
Grath had to lay down on his back as the bolter shells were beginning to peel away his protective cover. One ricocheting off the tail lip of the cover to impact with his armored calf. Blasting a hole in the armor and leaving a gaping wound below. The shell, even though it wasn't a perfect hit-the explosives within had done their work to hit the internals below. Blood slowly began to weep out of the hole in his aspect armor onto the cerro-plate steel floor. Thankfully, after testing his range of motion, it did little to hinder his movement. Much of the damage must have been topical, with a somewhat deeper apex injury below. A hiss of pain escaped Graths lips as he retook in the surroundings about him. His Avenger brethren had seemed to have taken cover, and began reciprocating fire at the white-haired hags. There was some more wreckage he could make use of, as his own was becoming increasingly dangerous to hide behind. So with one fluid motion he lifted himself up and launched his body like a spear, across the field of fire, clearing without much of a hitch. One single bolter round grazed his stomach, though did nothing but hallow out a small crevice on the armor. Landing with a soft thud on the ground behind what looked to be a shattered wing, next to several of his kin, he re-accessed once more. Noticing two of the battle sisters opening up on the destroyed cockpit-where he noticed the Warp Spider had taken position. Not being able to do much from his position, he did what he could. Taking his only two plasma grenades, armed them and threw them from cover at the two Sororitas. Maybe it would distract them, maybe it would kill them, hopefully it did something. It is all he could do for the moment as he crawled up to the battlements near his brothers and sisters. Returning fire on the Sororitas by the exit with some sweeping shots of his Catapult... ...And held fire after a moment as Desek moved in. Shouting to his brethren on the line "MOVE UP!". Knowing that the Warlocks presence would disrupt the Sororitas line enough they could get to better firing positions. Lifting himself from the ground and moving out of cover to get better aim and support the Lock in the midst of battle.
