Extremus Fors Chapter 16

"This is going to be a challenge," the voice issued from the smoky mirror.

"I am ready," Rebre stated firmly.

"Your skills lie in courtly intrigue and beguilement. You go into battle, this is far from your arena."

"I can handle myself," Rebre snorted.

"Not if the battle goes ill, you require my aid."

"You take me for a fool!" Rebre scorned, "Your advice has been helpful, but do not think I remain unaware of your ambitions, brother of mine. You wish to claim this flesh and become physical, relegating me to exist as a disembodied ghost. I have no plans to drift upon empyreal tides, watching you cavort in the world. I shall never let you in, never."

"I am wounded you doubt me so."

"Your sadness only quickens my heart."

"You will need my aid before the end, this I promise you."

"Begone Rebis, I have a battle to win," Rebre sneered.

The voice sank into the mists of the mirror. Rebre didn't care to watch, far more interested in the sounds beyond her tent. She dwelt in a luxurious pavilion, or as close to it as the technobarbarians could manage. Leather hides made up the walls and furs were laid upon the ground. Pillows and cushions had been piled to make furniture and rude chests held tribute of cheap jewellery. One chest glowered evilly, as the spells holding the Daemonsword strained to contain its ire. Rebre was sure it was secure but wasn't going to let it stray too far from her presence. In one corner a pair of young twins snored, adolescent boy and girl, their flesh barely marked by augmetics. The locals had little use for carnal pleasures, but Rebre would not be denied her amusements and had inducted the pair into the ways of Slaanesh.

Rebre had accepted these gifts as a grateful monarch. Her position as Star Queen earning her the love and adoration of the masses. True, most of the tribe seemed doubtful, but Rebre's spells had ensnared the leaders and shamans of the clan and that was enough to cow the rest into line. Lugdac's head was filled with visions of glory and Werrey drooled over the scant sorceries Rebre had handed down, passed off as Old Tech secrets. Already the Prince of Pleasure was seeping into the souls of these savages, now it was time to expand her reach.

Rebre checked her reflection in the mirror, seeing a warrior-queen. Rough furs had been bolstered by silvery plates, lightweight but sturdy. She wore a shining breastplate and chainmail skirt, with a belt of Plasteel discs about her waist. She had renewed the spells about her person, ensuring all saw her as a regal figure. Not the awe-inspiring vision that had won a crown, even she could not sustain that for long, but enough to make sure none questioned her authority. She completed the outfit with a sharp dirk at her hip, then compelled the twins to stand and follow as she stepped out.

Cold hit her face as she emerged, a chill deep enough to reach the bones. Away from the warm magma channels of the camp this was a world cold enough to freeze a man in minutes. The Sunsider clan wore heavy furs over their augmetics, making them resemble shaggy Ogyrns. They gathered about her tent in great number, all those capable of fighting in her name. In truth they were a disappointing lot, barely two thousand combatants in total. Rebre had seen armies that could sweep this lot aside without noticing, but it was a start.

Heads bowed as she led her pleasure-slaves forward. Eyes went down and whispers rang of the Star Queen's beauty and grace. She accepted this as her due, not deigning to answer their feeble praises. She walked with head held high, angling for a low hill, where Lugdac and his elites stood. These made way for her with love in their eyes, her hold upon them unbreakable. At the summit Lugdac stood, a heavy sword in his hand and two banners of yellow set upon his shoulders. Millic had drawn sharp daggers and Goresh a rumbling mining drill, strong enough to break boulders. Werrey hung under her anti-grav balloon, wringing her hands. She was no combatant, but her talents were useful in other areas.

"My queen, you kept me waiting," Lugdac said with a note not of possessiveness.

"I come and go as I will, my king," Rebre replied coolly, enjoying his jealous attention.

"Now you are here, we must begin. The Nightsiders have brought their full strength to break us."

"We shall triumph over all challengers. This is the promise of Lazar."

Goresh broke in, "I dunno, there's a bloody lot of them."

Rebre saw the rival clan massing at the other end of the cavern they had met in, several thousand warriors, significantly more than the Sunsiders. Their furs were dyed black, with purple stripes in their hair and boasting fearsome augmetics. Between the two armies a shallow valley lay, a bowl in the cavern they occupied. The high roof was strewn with stalactites and lit by the harsh glare of floodlights set up to illuminate the cave. Located halfway deep in Nightsider hunting grounds, a challenge they could not ignore, it would serve as the first test of Rebre's strength.

"Nightsiders are slick bastards," Millic sneered, "But tough in a fight."

"Chief Notrcre's clan is big but their caves are riddled with passages, easy to raid through, but we've never come against him in such number," Lugdac growled, "He is eager to crush me."

"Their bombards are powerful," Werrey observed, "Fire is theirs to command."

"And ice is ours," Rebre stated firmly, "The blessings of Lazar will provide."

"We shall see," Werrey muttered.

"Enough talk," Lugdac growled, "Time to begin my conquest."

At his command a warrior lifted an ivory horn and placed it to his lips. A loud tone echoed forth, spreading across the cavern with a doleful clamour. From the other army came a similar note, and battle was begun. Rebre stayed back as Lugdac set off at a run, elite guards at his heels. Moments later the Sunsiders sprang into action, sprinting across the icy wastes at a sharp clip. Blades and guns were pulled from under furs, ready to spill blood and the opposite side did likewise, two armies racing to meet as fast as their legs could carry them.

Rebre' fought to keep a sneer off her lips. There was no hint of strategy, no disciplined lines of soldiers or carefully arranged firing lines. The Technobarbarians simply ran at each other, eager to grapple and tear in close quarters. Each warrior fought alone, giving no mind to unit cohesion or orders. It would be less a battle and more of scum of hyper-violent thugs.

As the lines closed ranged weapons were brought to bear. From the Nightsider's ranks burly men lifted wide-bored cannons and let rip. Spinning projectiles spun high, soaring over the front ranks to explode in the mass of warriors. Thunder rolled, echoing loudly off the ice walls as bits of stone and metal scythed down, embedding themselves in flesh and steel. Simplistic weapons, barely more potent than frag grenades, but spreading their effects wide. In return the Sundsiders let rip with bullets, hammering the front rank of foes. A handful among their number bore more advanced Cyrocannons, and they blasted enemies into frozen statues with concentrated blasts.

Rebre counted the dead and found the exchange favoured her foes, but then the front ranks slammed together in a frenzy of chopping and hacking. Any sense of order disappeared as the melee became fast and furious. Orange-yellow and purple-black swirling together in a mishmash of heaving hues. Warriors stabbed and hacked, shot and gouged, only to be stabbed in the back in return. Neither side cared about covering their fellows, it was a clash of individual strength and personal prowess, where every man and woman fought alone. No wonder they wore bright colours, it would be impossible to tell friend from foe otherwise.

Rebre could only mark Lugdac's position thanks to the banners on his back, and she struggled to follow his progress. The chief was hacking his way deep into the mass of enemies, punching through the melee with raw strength and ferocity. His sword flashed, cleaving metal and bone as piston-driven limbs chewed through bodies. Goresh's bulk stood out and he ripped through resistance with his mining drill, its spinning head spraying blood high as a fountain. Lugdac and his elites were driving a spear into the heart of the Nightsiders, but they were greatly outnumbered and the Sunsiders were not holding. Blood and oil stained the ground, spilling from yellow bodies, their charge being absorbed by the greater weight of numbers.

"This…" Werrey gulped, "This isn't going as planned."

"Wait and see," Rebre uttered, "The moment to reveal my power closes."

"Better come fast then!"

From the melee a trio of warriors in black broke away, punching through the press. With no lines to hold them the Nightsiders were free to run up the hill, unopposed by any warrior. Perhaps they intended to loot the Sunsider's tents while they were engaged, but Rebre was right in their path and no rearguard had been left to protect her. The Sorceress was undefended, but far from helpless. Werrey gasped and floated backwards but Rebre drew her dirk and stepped forward. The trio charged, knives in their hands sharp and grins of anticipation on their lips. Their heads were crowned by purple crests and kill-tallies were marked on their faces, dappled dimples raised from the skin. They were killers of many men and well-armed, and Rebre had only her dirk, but she was not afraid.

As they bounded nearer she drove the dirk into her palm and felt the ecstasy of pain, unleashing the potency of warp-power in her veins. Blood pooled around the point, far more than such a small wound should produce and where it dripped it made the ice at her feet hiss and dissolve. Rebre pulled the dirk free and gestured at the trio, spraying blood in their faces. The effect was instantaneous, where blood fell skin charred and metal melted, tearing into meat and bone like the most potent of acids. They screamed in torment and flung hands to their faces, trying to sweep the vile splatters off. It did nothing to help, where hands touched the warp-filled blood skin burned away, their fingers burning off in seconds. They fell to their knees in torment, flesh sloughing from their skulls, reduced to grinning corpses that fell prone at her feet.

"Amazing," Werrey breathed in awe.

"I have only just begun," Rebre hissed, "Come, my loves."

The twins stepped forward, eyes addled with intoxication. They looked upon her as a chick does it mother, complete trust and adoration writ large. They stood still as Rebre advanced and didn't even react as she slit their throats with one sweep of her dirk, slashing their jugulars wide open. Hot blood sprayed everywhere, coating Rebre in vitae. She felt their life-forces flare, the last burst of their souls breaking from fleshy prisons. Such vital power, such frantic energy, Rebre's sorcery grabbed tight and guzzled the power, feeding her spells with stolen energy.

Rebre's vision expanded, casting her mind across the field. She beheld the entire battle, every combatant and dying warrior made plain. She could see it all, see the Sunsiders driven back, nearly defeated. Lugdac stood firm, fighting furiously but his side was outnumbered and outfought, they would not last long. With her stolen power it was simple for Rebre's spirit to slip among the enemy, stealing into their minds. She felt the crude simplicity of their thoughts, the primitive urges that drove them. So banal and tedious: kill, eat, fight, mate, so uninspiring, but easy to twist. With a single impulse Rebre laid a glamour over their eyes, all the Nightsiders, all at once. With the sacrificial power she made the enemy see what she wanted to see, namely that everyone around them was clad in yellow.

A shiver ran over the melee, then suddenly the enemy turned upon itself. Warriors roared in surprise at finding themselves surrounded, and reacted the only way they knew. Knives flashed, swords struck and guns thundered, culling their numbers in moments. Nightsiders turned upon Nightsiders, decimating their own fellows as friend fought friend and brother fought brother. Rebre watched as the whole battle shifted, hundreds of purple and black bodies falling as the yellow-clad pressed their advantage.

Rebre held on as long as she could, but the lifeforce of her sacrifices was all but spent. With a reluctant shiver she let go the last droplets of energy, seeing her spell dissolve. It didn't matter, the effect had been enough. The Nightsiders were shattered, their numbers obliterated. A triumphant wedge of Sunsiders crushed the last resistance, and Lugdac waved his sword high in victory.

Rebre shuddered as her sight reduced back to only what her eyeballs could see, but she squared her shoulders and walked down the hill. She wore the drying blood as her armour, proudly declaring her power to any who looked upon her. She saw savages tearing into the fallen, ripping free augmetics from the dead, and the not quite dead. She passed looting without concern, uninterested in the fallen, but moving quickly before the living joined them.

She found Lugdac standing over a corpse, neatly severing its head with his blade. "Notrcre, is dead, only shame I couldn't kill him myself," the chief laughed.

"A fine victory my king," Rebre purred.

"Did you see it?!" Millic crowed, "They went mad, killed each other for us!"

"Lazar's blessing was with us," Rebre replied smoothly.

"It's not done yet," Lugdac growled, "Not till we kill the lot of them."

"Patience my king," Rebre crooned, "We need a few alive."

"Alive?! Why would I spare a single one of the bastards?!"

"To go forth and carry word of your victory to all the clans. Let your defeated foes spread the tale to all the Lords of Sinew and Steel, telling of the power of Lugdac. Your glory will be known in all corners of the world, all will come and bow before you. Lugdac the mighty, Lugdac blessed of Lazar. You shall claim dominion over all the clans and become lord of all you survey."

Lugdac mused, "Of course… yes. You lot, round up a few who can walk and tell them to go and tell everyone they meet what happened today. Spread the word that Lugdac the mighty is unbeatable!"

The elites sprang to obey and Rebre quietly smiled. They had taken the next step on the path to dominating these lands. Soon Lugdac would command all the clans, which ultimately meant Rebre would command them. She would rule this ice-ball, then she could start thinking of her return to the stars.