Hello . Sorry for the long wait, I have been incredibly lazy. I guessed that 15 months is too long a wait. I'm in the middle of my second years in college. It's not as good as I thought, but still very interesting nonetheless. And no, I'm not going to abandon this story. Please RnR. Your comments will definitely help me create a better story.
"What causes you to think that we will believe you ?" the Grand Master asked angrily "There are only lies in your words, sorcerer. We are the faithful, not some kind of shameless mercenaries who will sell their souls, bodies, and minds just for your dirty gold ! And how do I know that you are not one of the mutant's allies ? And you aren't luring us into a trap ?"
"I only tell the truth" Kaeron replied "and if you are too stupid to realize it then there is the proof."
From the end of the hall, a large table were being carried by slaves toward the throne. When it came close enough, everyone, except the sorcerer and his retinue, was horrified by the sight.
Hundreds of mutated heads, riddle with holes, lay lifeless on the great table. Ramilies didn't need to see to know that the Sorcerer were smiling. But how could a large mutant horde like that able to avoid detection ? This wasn't normal.
But the Grand Master knew better than that. The damned sorcerer had told the truth; the tally he had racked up was more than what the Purity Cult's Death squad could do in one year ! The feeling of eating own words was not comfortable, especially for the poweful ones such as Ramilies. There would be the times to pay back the humiliation he suffered to day. But not now.
If he could, for the time being, work with Kaeron ? If he could lead his troops to find more mutant scums, then he would do a great service to humanity, and Ramilies's position within the hierachy would be secured.
"Very well, Kaeron. You have done us a great thing for us, and the holy human form as a whole. Tell me, then, who do you want to kill ?"
"It's good to hear that we can reach an agreement here," Kaeron smirked, earning him some angry glances from Ramilies's bodyguards "However, I must say that they are…tough to crack."
"There is nothing the faithful cannot do, Kaeron." The Grand Master said calmly "May I remember you that not one mutant has escaped from us ? Show us the information, and those despicable vermins are as good as dead."
"Seem like I have made a right choice" Kaeron said, the disdainful smile still stayed on his lips. The Grand Master said the proper words of respect, but his tone betrayed his insincerity and arrogance. Not that Kaeron was sincere, either, but Ramilies was too easy to read. He would make a fine puppet, provided that he didn't die when he enacted his plan.
If only the Grand Master knew where he got the mutants's heads.
Run. Run. It was all he could think of doing. Legs pistoning like a great machine, his hooves kicked up sand and grit into thick clouds with each giant stride. His breath came hard and fast, foam flecked at the corners of his mouth and his eyes were narrowed into slits as he pushed his body to its limits and beyond in a frightful dash towards safety. His mind was racing along with his body. The memories of his recent sojourn here on this dreadful world burned through his fear and panic.
He had betrayed them. The prophet, he had betrayed them all. He came to them like a saviour, and he and his kin, liked fools, embraced his words. The Beastmen were utterly unprepared for the slaughter unleashed upon them by their former allies. The cultists began their assault in the middle of the night. Sentries were silently put down, and then the massacre started. Many were still sleeping when the cultists poured into every tents, firing indiscriminately at the occupants. Hundreds were cut down by las bolts and solid slugs as they charged at the human in rage. They never stood a chance and all their infernal might was no match for firearms in the hand of the cultists. However, he did not have time to taste the shame of letting his herd to die that shot through him. It was not the time or the place to wallow in his misery. He needed to survive.
Was this the end for him ?
The kidlings and his mates were weeping as they ran. The cracks in the air indicated that some human were pointing their guns and firing bolts of fire nearby, perhaps even at him as he rumbled by like a run away freight train. A glance revealed a Sentinel drawing bead on his location. He narrowly advoided death as the barrage of las bolts hit the ground. One of his Gors wass not so lucky, as it was hurled backwards, disintegrating into a fine spray of mist and parts.
Several cultists got on his way, screaming their prayers to the Dark Gods. It was funny that just two weeks ago he hadn't had a clue on who they were; and now, given the firestorm around him, maybe it was better to pray for the Emperor and continued toiling in the manufactorums of Solaris. His thought was abruptly ended when the blood-craze mad men jumped straight into his face. Wasting no time, he swung his massive hammer to bear, crushing one of the cultists into red pulp. The remaining two startled for a second, surprised by the unexpected agility of a massive creature like him. And that killed them. His bodyguards slashed at them with his claws, ripping through their crude armors and tearing their chests open. The cultists screamed as the Gors fell on them, tearing them apart and stuffing meat from their body into their mouths.
"There is no time to feed ! Get on your feet !"
His order ran around the group, bringing them into some form of formation. He continued to run, and behind him his pathetic rag-tag band appeared in a grim pastiche of a fighting formation. These were the only thing left of his once mighty warherd. How many were still alive ? Or even half-alive? Some were so badly wounded they would be little more than helpless children. Neither the cultists nor their weapons had mercy, those who they spared, they left crippled and feeble. It was all over.
They were at the outskirt of the forest when several cultists and a Sentinel appeared, obviously searching the ground. He knew what they had spotted, the pile of bodies in the edge of the forest and it was checking to see if they were dead. He paused, then froze. Perhaps if he played dead, it would go away. The shame of that thought made him want to weep but he remained motionless anyway.
"What does the boss want, anyway ? Killing the Beastmen ? Is he still sane anymore ?" One of the cultists said, kicking a rock toward the dead bodies.
"Watch your mouth. He might be watching us." Another one answered; this one looked back into the ruin of the camp fearfully before continuing "Remember what happened to Nass ?"
"Yeah. That old bastard took a lightning bolt directly to the head. Poor fella."
"Enough with the talkin'" The other shout. This one was obviously the leader. A giant of a man, with bulging muscles and a face that looked like it had been twisted "Do your chore. The sooner we finish, the better."
And to survivors's horror, he cut off the head of the nearest corpse, and then the next, then the next…
He willed himself to remain still, if he got up and ran, the cultists would kill him for certain. If he stayed still and silent, he might survive. But as the cultists slowly got closer, he realized that his life might come to and end now…
He looked to his favorite mate, Mazzak. She smiled tiredly; the sudden journey had drained most of her strength. His heart nearly broke; they had trusted him, devoted their entire lives to him, and now this was what they get ? He knew his group could not survive, so he keep them relatively close together. He knew it was wrong, that he should be dispersing his people out so they would not be slaughtered in mass by a single burst of fire, but that was not his intent. A least when they die, they would die together, hand in hand.
Suddenly Mazzak rose up. His eyes widened; time seemed to slow down. She leaped at the nearest cultist, slashing at him with her claws. The entire hunting group were surprised by the sudden attack, and in the confusion they rushed at her, intended to free their comrade. They impaled their bayonets into her back, but she keeped clawing at the fallen cultist. This was all that required for him to forget his survival instinct. He rose up, preparing to sell his life dearly, but his bodyguards tackled him, dragging him toward the forest.
"No ! What are you doing ? Release me !"
His scream seemed to have no effect on them. The Sentinel fired a missile at them, only for it to explode harmlessly at a tree. They would be able to get far enough to escape; it would be impossible for the cultists to pursue them this far into the forest. Then all of the sudden, it dawned on him of what was going on. Mazzak had sacrified herself, so that the whole group may live. He had failed her, and all members of the herd, yet they still loyal to him until the end. Tears formed around his eyes; he keeped roaring her name, even after her voice was silenced by a wet thud.
Brestia Empire. The largest nation on this pitiful, backwater world. But still, the royalty got a fine, fine taste of art. However, most of this magnificent castle had fallen into disrepair, the luxurious furniture, lavish paintings, beautiful pillars decorated with gems and gold…all were covered by layers of dust, with dozens cracks running on the wall. The occupants must have a wasteful habit of wrecking things.
Standing before the gate of the castle's throne room, Kaeron still heard some, for the lack of a better word, disturbing noise coming from inside. Not that he was scared of them, but he must be prepared for what would come. He who knows his enemy and himself well will not be defeated easily.
Pushing open the gate with a wave of his hand, he was instantly greeted with a hideous scene: blood and limbs strewn across the room, and standing in the middle was a foul creature, gnawing at a ripped off head. Sitting on its head was a ornamented crown that thrummed with arcane power.
"So you are the one who has been driving the guards away, your Majesty ?"
Without a word, the creature leaped forward with incredible speed. Kaeron had just enough time to realize that the creature was not where it had been moments before when he was send flying toward the wall. Composing himself, the psyker slammed his palms together, creating a shockwave to knock the monster back. But it only angered the king more, for it roared in defiance before swatting the psyker again as if he was nothing more than an annoying fly.
Now he was truly terrified. It seems that he had bitten more than he could chew this time. Continued fighting was to doom himself. But the monster didn't have the same thought. Its iron grip tightened around his neck. He began to suffocate.
Clenching his hand in the last act of desperation, Kaeron reached into the monster's mind, and surprisingly, finding a spark of sanity between the unending sea of madness. The monster roared again, but this time was in pain. With a final spasm, it fell to the ground. Kaeron staggered back on his feet, absorbed a full lung of precious air before turning his eyes to the monster. But it was no more. Instead there was a man.
"Do it." He said with a gasp "Finish it".
"No. That would be too easy for you" Kaeron said. Not that he could, anyway "You would be more useful to me when you are alive. I could save you from your cursed existence."
"How do I know you are not lying ?" The king said. He was now standing on his feet.
"You don't have to believe me, your Highness. But I am your only way out of this. Do whatever you think is right. But I warn you, the chance does not come twice." The psyker smirked. He had now regained his usual calmness.
"Contact me again if you want. Meet me at the square three days later."
Lothar kneeled, picking up the painting that stranger had dropped. Two paintings, the most realistic picture of a human being he had ever since. The first depicted an armoured knight with a strange suit and weapon. But the second…
Impossible.
The woman with the pointed ears…
After all those years…Seeing her again send a chill down the king's spine. Was this some tricks of the stranger ? How could he know of their relationship ? There were multitude of questions in his head that he could not answer. It seemed that their destiny was to meet again.
