Extremus Fors Chapter 29

The Technobarbarian clans were on the move. In a great wave they left their homes and hunting grounds, abandoning dens inhabited for centuries. Rude dwellings were left empty, augmentation workshops silenced and decaying Forgefanes left to the echoes of the wind. They did this in pursuit of a greater destiny, the promise given to them by the Star Queen and their new leader Lugdac. The heavens awaited, so they were told and the people responded in droves.

Rebre was pleased. At her urgings the savages had given themselves over to Slaanesh, embracing the creeds with rampant enthusiasm. From their base existence grubbing for scraps they had turned to the pursuit of sensation and pleasure, indulging their darkest desires with gusto. Such a short time, no more than a few days since the journey began, truly these people had been crying out for the revelations of Chaos.

Rebre strode through a long crevice, sheer ice walls winding a twisted path. She was not with the scouting wayfinders, that would invite danger, but near enough so the snow underfoot still crunched when she trod on it. The air was clean and sharp, the light dim but enough to steer by and her limbs had yet to grow tired. Behind the crevice was filled with thousands of primitives, from all the major clans. They followed in her wake without question, trusting she knew where she was going. They had accepted her as their saviour, marching to her command in the day and indulging her revels in the night. What nights they had been, Rebre had instructed them in connecting delightful hallucinogens, conducting massed orgies and overseen self-mutilations galore. Much of her memory was still hazy, but this was second nature and came back easily.

Her musings were interrupted by Millic, "You sure this is the way?" The young woman was greatly changed, blessings of Slaanesh growing within her flesh. The piercings she had inserted had been supplemented by spiky points, growing all over her exposed head. Her hair had completely fallen out, so now she boasted a mane of quills, utter black and dripping with what Rebre suspected was poison.

"This is the way," Rebre declared confidently.

"Certain?"

"Trust me."

"Like Werrey trust you?"

"Werrey was old," Rebre laughed, "Old, slow and stupid. She slowed us down, holding us back. Don't pretend you shed a tear over her death."

"Trrrruuussst…. Quuueeeennn…" Goresh rumbled. The enforcer was if anything even more blessed. His tongue now hung down to his biceps, making speech difficult. His muscles had swollen around implants, carrying a gleaming tang as if sweating from a hard workout. He walked shirtless to show off his magnificent physique, untroubled by the cold, and drew many admiring glances from the masses. Rebre was interested in discovering how much his strength had increased, and more interested in the strange bulges straining at his trousers, multiple protrusions hinting at new additions to his physique. The next time they stopped Rebre was going to find out how greatly Chaos had blessed this one, but that was an issue for later.

"Lazar shows me the way," Rebre said as if true, "The path to the heavens lays ahead."

"We shall walk under the sun again," Millic sighed.

"We shall know its warmth." Rebre agreed.

"Ssuuuuuunnnn," Goresh growled.

"Stay true, I can smell the warm air ahead."

The pair fell silent and moved on, pulling ahead of Rebre. The self-proclaimed Star Queen let them go, wondering if she should bother to take them with her when she left this iceball. She had invested a lot of energy and time into them and they could be useful servants. Rebre was under no delusions that the mass of Technobarbarians would be left to freeze when she departed, but perhaps a few slaves would be appropriate.

"Feeling sentimental?" came a silent voice inside her head.

"Rebis," Rebre growled, "Why do you bother troubling me?"

"So touchy, so ungrateful. After I revealed the path to you and the way out of this barren waste."

"You merely made vague promises of a way out and a route none dared follow. Hardly a starship, fuelled and waiting."

"Come now, you don't expect me to reveal all my secrets in one go! You must trust me."

"Trust! So you can stela my flesh and become real?! Hardly, brother of mine, I wouldn't trust you if you said the void was cold."

"I am wounded by your doubt, but I forgive you. Know that the way off this rock is down, always down, leading to the last fastness of Magos Lazar and the wellspring of his madness."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rebre probed, but the voice was silent, retreating back into the madness of the Warp where the spirit lay. The Sorceress shook off the vague threat and increased her pace, moving past loping primitives till she drew next to Lugdac. The king of squalor was striding along with his head held high. In his hand was the Daemonsword, the thorns of its hilt sinking deep into the bones of his hand to make them one. If Lugdac was pained he gave no sign, he was energised, vital, swollen with potential, he almost glowed with power. His voice had become law among the Technobarbarians since taking up the blade, former rivals obeying without hesitation and the masses hanging off his every utterance. Arrogance he wore as a cloak, his obsession with glory a crown on his head. He had also taken to cutting at his face, removing his lips to reveal teeth growing into sharp fangs and his eyes were the black on black of an oceanic predator.

Rebre drew alongside him, "My king."

"My queen," came the response, "I can smell the glory ahead."

"Your destiny is mightier than any can imagine. All that remains is to claim it."

"I am impatient to begin, yet these roads are not known to me. None have dared these paths for as long as memory endures. They are cursed."

"Fear and doubt hold you back, but you must dare to be bold. Only the bravest ever achieve their goals."

"The heavens shall be mine, all shall know and fear the name of Lugdac!"

"So shall it be for ten thousand times ten thousand years, but only if you…"

Her entreaty was cut short as a scream echoed from ahead, shrill and terrified, and very, very brief. The front rank of the horde pulled up short as the scout's wail rang loud, causing those behind to pile up in surprise. The whole column crashed to a halt as they shouted in dismay, yelling at each other in confusion. Rebre didn't understand what had just happened, but then she heard a hissing whisper ring, as if boiling water was being poured on hot metal. Everyone else seemed to understand and Millic breathed, "Undying!"

"They seek to block my glory!" Lugdac cried as he sprang into a run, "They shall be destroyed!" Rebre wasn't half as keen to engage the feared monsters from the barbarian's nightmares, but she found herself drawn along. The front rank of the horde burst into a run and she had no choice save to sprint alongside, else be crushed underfoot. It was a stampede, mindless and instinctive, but entirely the wrong way.

A hundred or so primitives sprinted away from the bulk of the horde, racing to meet the threat. Rebre didn't know what to expect, some local animal, a tribe of Technobarbarians augmented with dangerous devices, a last rearguard of Tech-guard, but she certainly wasn't expecting what they found around the next bend. Her eyes opened as she beheld Undying, three of them. Twisted limbs and withered chests, covered by broad pauldrons and backpacks. Grinning skulls topped their heads, crowned by haloes of fire and their black-glass blades glimmered with potency. A strange power was in them, of the warp but not from the warp, stolen strength and leeched soul-power sustaining them in place of true psychic mastery. They stood over the bodies of a party of wayfinders, but their orbless eyesockets turned to take in the newcomers.

"Gods Below," Rebre breathed in horror, but the rest were not baulked. Swollen with the rush of Chaos, egos inflated by the dreams of Slaanesh, they charged. They streamed around the frozen sources, bringing their weapons to bear, confident they could not be touched. They were wrong.

The leading Undying clattered its teeth in anticipation then swung a long sword one-handed. The blow looked almost lazy, slow and ponderous but the weight of it was unstoppable. It hit the first Technobarbarian in the flank and sheared through without pause, carrying on to slice the heart out of the second, decapitate a third and sliced through the scalp of a fourth.

Rebre was aghast, seeing the unearthly strength of the macabre beings. The Technobarbarians piled in, knives stabbing and guns blasting at point-blank range. Goresh swung a heavy-handed hammer into the back of one, while Millic's knives flashed. It achieved nothing. Blades failed to pierce their withered hides and bullets bounced off, leaving no marks and in return the Undying laid waste to the primitives.

That black sword mowed through bodies like a scythe through wheat, laying out bisected corpses upon the snow. The second fought with whips of fire, lashing about in trailing flames that dismembered and eviscerated. The third stood back but in its arm was a wide-bored cannon. it aimed and fired as casually as if on the firing range and unleashed a beam of scintillating energy. Pale and translucent, it moved through the air as if a mere suggestion of shooting, phasing in and out of reality at random. It struck a warrior in the back and bored through with ease, punching through five more till it burst from the last and shot away, coring a tunnel the size of a fist a hundred metres deep into the ice of the wall.

Rebre was stunned at the display. These creatures were beyond the Technobarbarians in every way. They shrugged off blows with ease and their every motion was deadly. In seconds they decimated half the attackers, laying waste to all resistance. Something of their form and power reminded her of another, a grinning warrior in decadent plate, but this was no time for reminiscing.

She saw the one with a sword snatch up a warrior in its free hand and hoist him aloft. Skeletal jaws yawned wide and then the Undying ripped the lifeforce from its victim. Rebre sensed it, felt the consumption of the primitive's soul, his most vital essence drained as fuel for the fires of Undeath. She staggered back a step, unable to think of any spell that could affect these abominations. Her skills were subtle and sly, working on hearts and minds, neither of which this filth possessed.

The one with the Whips was alerted by her motion and moved to intercept. She backed away, holding up her hands but it cared nothing for her pleas. Its jaws opened wide, eager to consume her soul and Rebre knew such a fate would be an eternal torment, an eternity of suffering awaiting if it got its hands on her.

Panicking she turned to run but her boot slipped on the ice and she went tumbling, sprawling in the snow, helpless to run. She rolled to see the Undying loom overhead, ready to snatch her up and eat her life. All she could do was throw her arms up before her face, unable to look, so she missed a spear of twisted metal erupt from its chest.

A thunk of breaking bone caused her to look up and she beheld the Undying frozen in place, the length of the Daemonsword sticking out of its heart. Flames wrapped the blade, sheathing it in corposant but not damaging it in any way. If anything the Daemonsword was drawing more energy to itself, sucking the unnatural fires into its matter. The Daemon Prince trapped within that sword was bitter and spiteful, made ravenous by imprisonment. It consumed the energies of the Undying, as it in turn had fed off the lives of others, a contest of hungers that could only have one outcome. The halo of fire sputtered out, then the Undying collapsed, falling apart as a pile of inert metal and bone. It was empty, drained utterly as the blade withdrew.

Lugdac pulled back his weapon, but he was far from finished. The other Undying was carving apart foes but it saw the ending of its kin. It drew back the sword and lunged, trying to slice Lugdac apart. The warlord however ducked low, letting the blade pass overhead as he closed and rammed his weapon into a withered gut. Once more the Daemonsword tasted unnatural energy and drank deep, its greed cruel and insatiable. It drained the Undying as it had the first, leaving only one left.

The last backed up, drawing a bead on his position. The cannon glittered, then discharged in a silent shriek. Lugdac should have died then, but somehow was not struck. He jerked aside with impossible speed, dodging the blast. It was the Daemonsword, Rebre sensed, feeding back a morsel of the energy it had stolen. The malignant thing had no wish to be dropped so suddenly, its bearer was feeding it what it wanted and it wished for the feast to continue.

Empowered by his weapon Lugdac blurred, sprinting closer at a fantastic rate. Another beam was dodged, another and then Lugdac was on it, ramming his sword through its heart. The Undying broiled the air with its final wail, arms going wide as fire cascaded over its body, disappearing into the blade. A heartbeat passed, then it fell down, drained of all vitality. Lugdac was left standing over his kill, arms upraised as he exulted in victory.

The surviving savages picked themselves up, barely a fifth of those who had first engaged. Their losses were grievous but they cared not, they stepped over their dead as they gathered around their lord, praising his name.

"Luuuuugdaaaac!" Goresh hissed.

"He brings death to the Undying!" Millic cheered.

Unremarked Rebre picked herself up from the dirt, nonplussed at being ignored. She brushed her fur clothes free of grime as she watched Lugdac revel in the laurels. She had come far too close to dying for comfort, but as she beheld the warlord saw opportunity unfolding. Lugdac had formed a bond with the Daemonsword, and that made him mighty. His potential had barely begun to emerge and she could rise high on his coattails. Yes, Lugdac could well reave across the galaxy if given the chance, and there would be no limit to Rebre's reach with such a man as her champion. Lugdac would shape the future and it would be to Rebre's design.