The Veil of Rot : Chapter 2
The sheer size of the hulk was something to be considered. Like a massive continent it drifts in the cold dark. Assaulting such structures is an arduos task, and many opt for blasting them to pieces than invading. Sometimes however it is of the most importance that infiltration occur; space hulk's are often resting places for artifacts that are priceless to the Imperium.
The precious cargo for these attackers although was not some sort of archeotech. Their prize was vengeance and carnage, and they had come for nothing less. It had been nearly half a century since Lerol and Davion fled the planet Borel, but a change had occured to their characters, a vast change. Their conflict with the warband of Nurgle had devastated the faith they placed in the precedents of mankind.
So full of bitterness, with no desire but the annihilation of a hated foe, it was like a pinging beacon in the dark to some who watch for such things. They dwell in their realm, waiting for something that catches their attention. They will lock into a strong emotion, drawn to it like an insect toward light. The astartes that lose faith in calling on the Emperor, will sometimes call to others instead.
The Captain who previously bore the heraldry of the Crimson Fist Space Marine Chapter, stood before those gathered for the mission at hand. The ship had been through the warp and back, and it was forever changed. Possessed. It's crew, now fully fledged followers of Chaos. The sordid tale of the events of that voyage are lost to only but those few.
Previously known as Davion, the Captain was now dedicated to The Black Legion, and was called Devphus. His master's sent him on the errand of killing Choleryngius to prove his worth to them. It was up to the would-be lord and the sorceror Rhalek, to devise a way to do this. The Black Legion needed more from Devphus, to prove his conviction. If he could not do this task, they were useless to the Black Crusade.
Rhalek was the sorceror in charge of keeping track of the relatively fresh convert, Devphus. The warp psyker was a devoted follower of Tzeentch, the Chaos god of change and magic. It was an unfortunate fate that befell the Librarian Lerol, who failed the tests to becoming a sorceror himself. Devphus then would have him here instead of Rhalek.
What inspired the Tzeentchian sorceror only was a chance to weave his powers to sow discord. He knew of this Malareous Typhen, and he sought to test his might in a psychic duel.
Rhalek had a plan. He would work his warp skill, and make the appearance of himself and Devphus along with the terminator assault force accomanying them to that of Crimson Fist astartes. Rhalek took on the look of Lerol. To the ferrymen of the Black Wind, they would appear as loyal astartes come to exact vengeance.
His plan however, was to eliminate the leadership of the Black Wind and induct the remaining forces into the Black Legion. The Veil of Rot is far too independent and would better serve Chaos in this way. If they could deceive the Death Guard into thinking they weren't fighting chaotic forces, then an advantage the attackers could have, enough for them to accomplish their goal.
"Have you located him sorceror?" Spoke Devphus. A moment of silence passed. Rhalek could sense the pensive Malareous, trying to plumb their intentions.
"I have him. We may proceed at your order." Replied the sorceror.
"Take us in."
With that, the small force teleported directly into the heart of the Black Wind.
Rhalek had taken them before the lord of the warband, Choleryngius. He stood in the main hall where the previously assembled death guard stood, and only several of his death shroud bodyguard and a sqaud of seven plaguemarines at the front of the large room were with him.
The small group of Black Legionnaires only numbered ten, including the lord and sorceror. Numbers weren't an issue at the moment. Rhalek was confident in his gambit. Devphus would either slay Choleryngius, or be killed himself.
Eliminating Malareous should be an easy effort for Rhalek. With the head of the enemy cut off, the Veil of Rot could be gathered into the Black Legion by replacing it's leaders. It was a relatively small vectorium, it's cultists would be easily obtained as well from the outlying plagueworlds.
"Challenge!" Came the voice of Devphus, now strained in fury, raised to a yell. The utterance had come just after a hail of bolt fire tore the plagumarines in the room to lumpy shreds of decayed viscera and sundered ceramite.
Choleryngius stood like stone, gazing out from his visored helm. In his tactical dreadnaught armour of nurglite possession, he was an imposing figure indeed. Insects crawl out of hive openings in his form, and toxic bile creeps from open sores and rents in armour.
It was becoming apparent that these insects were seeping into any area of the attacker's armour. The gases of the Black Wind held at bay for the terminators and their lord from the protective suits they wore, for now. For how long?
The Tzeentchian sorceror's gaze traced the room and into the corridors leading outward. His mind flew about seeking the plaguecaster. Devphus began walking toward Choleryngius with an ever increasing acceleration, breaking from the formation of his terminators.
"Be in ruins!" Screamed Devphus, now at a full charge.
A massive power maul clutched in his gauntlets sparked with energy, it's monotone hum joined by crackling electricity. It was always custom amongst the fighters of the galaxies to the acceptance of a duel, seemingly across all culture's and races; a truly remarkable phenomenon. The troops of each leader respectfully await the decision of the squaring off.
Choleryngius clutched his plague axe and steadied himself as Devphus drew in. His honor guard standing fast behind him, their morbid and ghastly figures resembling grim reapers of Terran myth.
"All will ROT!" Bellowed the gurgling voice of Choleryngius. He held out his left hand and a stream of bilous discharge spewed out and coated the aspiring champion of Khorne. This sent Devphus into such a fury that as his maul came crashing down on the plague lord's axe being brought up as a deflecting strike, red hot fires burned like molten bronze about the attacker and his weapon.
"Warp sorcery!" the lord of contagion thought, as instead of striking away the oncoming blow, his ceramite and thrice blessed axe was sundered, and the maul continued it's course; crashing through armour and splattering infected gore from the shoulder to sternum.
Fiery rage pushed Devphus to raise the weapon again and bring swinging through the head of Choleryngius. However the berserker had ruptured a poison detonation within the lord of contagion. A violent corpse explosion in Choleryngius' death throes sent rotten toxic bile in all directions.
Having anticipated such an occurance, Rhalek teleported the aspiring champion out of proximity of the blast, and Devphus' swing came through the thick clouds of gases suspended in the ship, parting them momentarily.
After realizing the sorceror's quick thinking he shot him a glance of contempt. He hated sorcerors, and his bloodlust was not sated. However the corrosive bile Choleryngius coated Devphus in coupled with the toxins from the explosion likely would have ended the aspiring champion.
The plague lord was not expecting an attack from a berserker of the blood god. So these astartes were traitors now themselves, Cholerygius' realization a short lived one. His head was beyond recognition and his body was a pulpy pile of messy decaying flesh and wrecked terminator armour.
The nearby Death Guard astartes that heard the battle were all gathered around the outskirts of the hall, looking on in wonder. The now chaos armoured marine that had just killed their lord was practically screaming in some bloodlusted elation.
The attack had left the witnesses oddly befuddled. The ruse was up, there was no need to hide any more. Rhalek and the others retained their chaos blessed apperances, Devphus had already reverted in his rage. The champion had red warpfire playing about his crown, it would seem that Khorne is indeed pleased with him. Perhaps Rhalek would need to be wary of this one after all.
But where was the sorceror?
More of the Veil of Rot had gathered and now encircled the Black Legionnaires. They all just stood silently, staring.
"Your lord is defeated, and your sorceror has abandoned you all!" Came Devphus, his voice booming through the chamber.
It seemed true enough, not one of the Death Guard was approaching to challenge, the champion Gregorius and sorceror Malareous nowhere to be seen. In such an event, it mattered little to the warband who it's leaders were. That they continue to uproot and rot out the universe is their only concern.
The day would be won, and the entire vectorium would start crusading with the Black Legion; led by some new aspiring champion. It would be so, if it were that the Veil of Rot submitted to defeat. But the champion and sorceror of the plaguemarines had not just dissappeared to become subservient in this attempt at upheaval.
Irritatingly some of the smallest insects found ways to enter the Black Legionnaires rents, and thus the toxic atmosphere of the Black Wind began creeping through as well. Not only spattered with rotten gore, but Devphus' armour was also showing true signs of corrosion from Choleryngius' plague spewer.
"We must return, Champion," came the hissing tone of Rhalek. He understood too that it would be only a matter of time before more of this disease ridden place infested them all to the core.
"Await your new orders, Death Guard of the Veil of Rot. Your new masters make their leave for now. We shall appoint you a new plague champion from our ranks in time. Remember that you all belong to the Black Legion now! You will have enemies under our banners to wage war upon! Rejoice!"
Oddly enough the insect's droning seemed to increase. The bells and percusive metals began to chime and clank. Unsetteled, the attacking force was eager to leave behind this rotting vessel and despair invoking scene of decay. It would seem they approved Devphus' message.
Upon arrival back aboard their own craft, the Black Legionnaires were not relieved to the welcoming sight of poisonous gases and buzzing insects in the air. Before them stood Gregorius, Malareous, and a host of blightlord terminators. The entire ship's crew slaughtered or being routed at the very moment.
Without hesitation, the group of Death Guard advanced forward. Gregorius hefted the massive two handed plague blade in challenge toward Devphus, and the Khornate champion charged with blood curdling cry. With two stroke's Gregorius split the aspiring champion's torso from his legs; deflecting the Devphus' maul and then back through his midsection.
Gregorius was peerless with the blade amongst his brethren. The rest of Devphus' commrades were slain quickly in a terrifying display of bolter fire and melee combat. Rhalek showered the area in a doomblast as he teleported into close range of Malareous.
Grasping his warpstaff and aiming it like a firehose, the Tzeentchian sorceror doused Malareous in colorful chaotic flames. The massive astartes pushed into the cone with his bubotic force axe raised and brought it down cleaving Rhalek in twane. The flames had burned the sorceror to some degree, but to the Nurglite it was superficial for the length of time he was exposed.
Upon close inspection of the dead Rhalek, Malareous knew that it was a doppleganger. A decoy. The Sorceror was making is escape, ejecting out in a scouting vessel. It would be no use to persue him now. Having failed his masters it may have been better if he had been in the stead of his double.
Rhalek fumed. The incompetency of it all. It was the fault of Devphus, the brute. The lord couldn't possibly think they would be successful. He thought that at least they succeeded in slaying Choleryngius, it should have weakened the warband. But then he remembered the solemn feeling just before they departed the Black Wind.
The rows of calm and patient Death Guard, just staring. The clangs and bangs of their bells. The buzzing. They all knew we were going to our deaths. Curses and damning thoughts issued forth from Rhalek as he propelled toward his destination. Perhaps all he had accomplished was making a hornet's nest more prone to striking.
"Bring the vessel to dock, we will take from it what we will." Gregorius' voice was cold and commmanding.
"My lord." Malareous raspingly replied.