The only sounds that he could hear was his own breathing and his own heartbeat.
Ulthan knew about the battle raging around his wagon, he knew he should be hearing the sound of swords clashing against steel, the warcries of the mercenaries and cultists as they fought against one another, the crackle of sorcerous bolts, the sound of muskets and pistols.
His father was a Loremaster; Ulthan knew he had fought in serveral battles, before he had been asked to serve in Hammerhal as part of its guard. He had told him stories of Stormcast mounted on mighty Stardrakes slaying greater demons, of sudden Sylvaneth ambushes against Ogres, and more besides. Yet none of the stories, no matter how much detail he gave, no matter how well he trained Ulthan, it could never truly prepare him for the real thing.
"Oi! Wake up!"
Ulthan snapped himself out of his shock once he heard the voice of one of the mercenaries. He turned to see a bald man, possibly close to middle age. Half of his face was covered by a roaring lion tattoo. He stood tall, his build made it possible to mistake him for a short ogre. The simple, chipped steel plate that covered his torso and the studded leather provided him with amble protection, the scars that covered his exposed arms attested to the fact that he was not unused to getting himself in and out of troubld.
"Sorry Turic." Ulthan said sheepishly as he drew his sword. Unlike Turic, Ulthan wasn't assigned to protect the caravan, rather he had hitchhiked when his father told him to leave Hammerhal. Most of the mercenaries left him alone but weren't unpleasant to him, they had been paid extra to discreetly transport him to Franzburg. Turic kept him company as the wagons trundled towards the Cinderlands, often regaling him stories of his childhood in Ghur, including a unbelievable escape from Orruks and Chaos tribesmen on the Jagged Savannah.
Turic gave a smile before the cart in front of the one that the mercenary and the Aelf were hiding behind suddenly burst into sorcerous flame, prompting a string of curses from Turic.
"Alright, we're going to head out of here and head east. Stormcast should have seen the smoke and should get you to Franzburg." He said, clutching a battered buckler and a rather brutal mace. "If I die or get wounded, don't stop."
Ulthan felt his pride prickle a little bit and was about to remark that he could fight when Turic spoke again. "I know you want to help, and I know you can fight, but your father didn't pay us to get you killed, and Captain has given me orders to get you out of here." Ulthan nodded, realising that he wasn't going to win an argument with the Ghurian mercenary, not to meantion it would be a complete waste of time.
Turic nodded before inching forwards before peaking out of the cover provided by the wagon. He turned around with a serious expression about two seconds later. "Its not going to get any better, we go now."
Ulthan nodded again before Turic and the Aelf began to move briskly out of cover.
The sight that greeted Ulthan was one of carnage.
The convoy sat stationary as mercenaries dressed in similarly rugged armour fought against Kairic acolytes and Tzaangors. The rock fields that surrounded the road played host to natural monoliths which towered over the battlefield. Dead from both sides littered the ground, limbs and heads severed from their bodies with blood and viscera decorated the dusty ground. Burnt corpses of men and horses, victims of the initial attack, laid on the ground, one was still screaming and flailing around in a futile attempt to save himself as sinister fire did its gruesome work.
His father had warned Ulthan that the battlefield was not a kind place, that it was cruel and punishing for mind, body and spirit and that a single mistake could cost him his life. Yet Ulthan felt like training with one of Hammerhal's greatest sword masters would give him some preparation.
Evidently he was wrong.
He kept constantly alert as he and Turic moved from cover to cover, hoping to escape unnoticed by the Cultists and Tzaangors, the remaining mercianeries were holding, albeit barely.
They had nearly reached the third wagon on when a wiry blue figure stalked out from behind the front of the wagon. Nearly as tall as Turic, the twin headed Tzaangor, armed with two vicious beaks with razor sharp teeth, long cruel claws and a two savage looking blades with eyes which stared at Ulthan with uncomfortably intensity, was certainly something that neither the mercenary or the Aelf wanted to see.
The Tzaangor's left head, a grotesque skinless thing, let loose a shrieking, bloodthirsty cry, while the right head chuckled sinisterly before the mutated creature suddenly hurled itself at Turic, with a wild swing of a blade it aimed to remove Turic's head from his shoulders. With a loud clang it collided with the buckler before Turic swung his mace. The beast managed to jump back enough to evade the blow, though the crude metal club did manage to connect with the Tzaangor's left hand with bone shattering results.
"GO!" Turic yelled at the top of his voice to be heard over the Tzaangor's dreadful screech before the mutant redoubled its attack on the mercenary.
Ulthan froze, hesitation seizing his body. He could already see that Turic was dangerously close to being overwhelmed by the mutant and without any sort of aid he would surely be slain. He was trained by a master of the blade. Surely he would be able to help.
Ulthan heard a pebble clatter behind him. He spun round to see two men, lacking any clothing save simple trousers, some armour and leering bronze masks which covered their faces. One held an axe which were shaped to resemble an icon of Tzeentch and a dagger while the other held a sword and a shield in his hands.
Kairic Acolytes.
Ulthan held his blade in a death grip as he now realised he had to stand and fight whether he liked it or not.
For a moment the world slowed as adrenaline coursed through the Aelf's veins, as fight overcame flight instincts he waited for the cultists to make the first move.
The duel wielding acolyte suddenly surged forwards with savage energy as he lunged, seemingly hoping to impale the Aelf's shoulder with his blade. The Aelf side stepped his attack and swung his blade upwards. The sword cut through flesh and bone with contemptuous ease.
The acolyte fell to the ground, blood mingling with dust before impact, within the space of a few seconds he was dying, surrounded by a pool of dark red fluid. He only had barely enough strength o groan in pain as he took his last living breaths. All the while adrenaline coursed through the Aelf's veins.
A pained gasp suddenly sounded behind of Ulthan. He spun Lund to see that the Tzaangor had stopped Turic in the gut. The mutant was not content with simply just leaving the mercenary to die. It let go of the blade before it reached out and tore out Turic's throat with it's claws.
That was the last thing Ulthan saw before the cold hard pommel of the second acolyte's sword smacked into the Aelf's head, robbing him of consciousness before he had any sort of attempt at escape or revenge.
Already Helena was on alert as the mounted Stormcast thundered across the Ashen plains.
The ride out of the camp had been fairly normal, the sounds of their steeds galloping across the terrain being the only thing that punctured the quiet save for the occasional piece of good natured banter between her brothers. She usually let them talk for a short while after leaving camp, as long as they remained vigilant and alert and once they reached the point where enemy contact was likely they focused completely.
Soon enough the banter ended and each one of the Stormcast readied themselves for what was inevitably going to be a long evening for them. Even if the convoy didn't come under attack by some miracle, they could not afford to let their guard down for a single second until the final wagon had rolled past the town gates. Franzburg had no appropriate moorings for Skyships and due to the funding that had been diverted to other areas it would be unlikely that the town would receive dockyards for vessels in the immediate future. A shame because, even though it would only be slightly more secure, it would be quicker.
However a while into the ride, she began to feel unease in her stomach. Her instincts screamed that the convoy was in danger, they begged her to not tarry a moment more and ride as fast as Squall could carry her.
It took barely a moment more before her instincts were proven right.
A gust of wind blew against the Stormcast, bringing the sulphuric scent of gunpowder, along with the coppery scent of blood and a foul brimstone stench which was all to familiar to the Stormcast.
Just as the scent hit them the sounds of battle reached their ears, swords clashing, men gun firing, men dying. The dreadfully familiar orchestra confirmed that the Lord-Aquilor's suspicions were correct, unfortunately.
"I see smoke! Right ahead of us!" One Pallador called out. Sure enough a black pillar of smoke rose over the horizon. That only reinforced Helena's suspicions.
"I think we can assume the disciples has beat us to the convoy." Helena stated as Squall sprinted forwards, now putting on additional speed towards the could of smoke.
"We should make haste and ride the winds! We've kept the guards waiting long enough!" Alric called out to the Lord-Aquilor, who nodded in response.
"A wise move. Be ready to ride the Aetheric winds!" She ordered. "Pallador-Prime, give the signal when ready!"
"Yes Sir! Be ready!"
Each one of the brothers gave some variation of 'affirmative' before they awaited the signal to begin riding the winds. Gryph-chargers were used by light Calvary prior to Sigmar forging the Stormcast, their spreed and agility was nigh peerless and they allowed riders to easily flank their enemies, respond to developing situations rapidly or retreat and reposition. Though they weren't are tough and durable as Dracoths or as savage as Dracolines, they possessed far greater agility than both, making them the perfect choice for the Vanguard-Auxiliary. Palladors and any other Stormcast who road Gryph-chargers were vigorously trained in using the winds to traverse the battlefield quickly to suddenly appeared at an unexpected quarter, some other Stormcast, most notably Neave Blacktalon from the Hammer of Sigmar, even learnt to ride the backdrafts, allowing them to be in the perfect position to support the charge. Alric had proven himself to be a master at riding the Aetheric Winds during training, an achievement which earned him the title Swiftstride. Yet it still demanded precise timing, mistakes could case injuries or even deaths, but even if everything went perfect, with a well trained rider and steed, mishaps could still occur.
Alric waited for the opportune moment to give the signal so that the mounted Stormcast would be able to signal their steeds to transmute themselves into the wind.
He saw it.
"Go!"
Instantly the riders began the shift. To any observers the riders would each dissipate into a golden glowing cloud which crackled with celestial lighting, though to the naked eye it would be more akin to a golden blur racing over the Ashen plains, the winds howling in their wake.
The riders allowed the currents to carry them towards the convoy, only pushing against them slightly to make sure they weren't suddenly blown off course. Before long the battle was in sight. The surviving mercenaries had managed to rally together and were currently holding out against the onslaught of cultists and mutants. Some of the enemy were waiting in the direction that the Palladors intended to arrive from, obviously they had predicted that they were coming, but they were still getting into position by the time the Palladors had reached them.
A fatal error which they would realise when the Stormcast became material again and crash into them. As they materialised many cultists suddenly found themselves torn apart by Boltstorm volleys and Gryph-Charger claws. Helena wasted no time in getting stuck in, she raised her own pistol and fired into the cultist's ranks, a few shots bounced off shields or missed, those that found their mark did so with deadly results as the scent of blood and scorched flesh. With her hand already drawing her sword she roared a battle cry in a voice that would have made the white bear Ursircht proud.
"For Sigmar! For the Astral Templars!"
Her brothers roared in response as they plunged into the enemy.
Mara moved across the wastelands with the grace and silence of a wild Kavat. She darted across the open, stopping in what little cover was available to survey her surroundings before moving on. Even though she was still learning about the realm of Aqshy, she had fought in enough theatres of war to have a range of tactics and strategies which she could use for the Ashen plains, those developed while she tailed Grineer patrols on the plains of Eidolon where particularly useful.
She held the Vulkar in her arms, ready to raise it in a firing position at a moments notice. She had made numerous modifications to the weapon, including adding a sound suppression system, it wasn't enough to completely silence the weapon but it would be enough to make it tricky for an enemy to locate her firing position. Of course it still had a three round magazine, meaning that she needed to make every shot count if things took a turn for the worse. That being said if anyone successfully closed in on her, the Plinx and her Nikana were more than adequate for close quarters.
She could have taken it into King Marrow's fortress, but the last time she took a sniper rifle into an enclosed environment (a Grineer resource asteroid), she only scored a dozen with it, if you counted the poor butcher who was beaten to death with it.
She continued to move towards the road. She had made a rough guess as to where she would find the convoy. Once again she was going in semi-blind, though this time she had at least a better knowledge of the terrain, though the security detail of the convoy remained a half-mystery. From what she gathered from various conversations she eavesdropped on, the convoy was accompanied by mercenaries who would be joined by cavalry. However the flesh eater court may mean that the security detail might be different from the normal composition. The local militia had taken notable casualties during King Marrow's reign, which could mean that they wouldn't be able to send additional personnel. The more she reviewed what intelligence she wanted to gather, the more she realised that she still had only a little bit of reliable information information on the Stormcast, since most of what she heard was from singers and storytellers. She had only a basic idea of their tactics, capabilities, and modus operandi. While some might say that this would enough, Mara knew otherwise. She also realised that she may have an opportunity to observe the Stormcast if the captain was unable to send any of his men.
The first sign that something was wrong for Mara was the smoke on the horizon, somewhat close to the predicted position of the convoy. From what she had gathered, the convoy always arrived during the evening and stayed in Franzburg for the rest of the night before departing in the morning and she wasn't aware of any camps in this direction, so she could immediately rule out camp fires as a likely source, that left two other reasons as to why there was fire and smoke; an accident, or an attack.
Mara quietly cursed her luck, and headed towards the smoke to investigate. She did not activate her cloak as it would drain energy unnecessarily, and instead moved slowly and cautiously. She felt safe in saying that she would probably have to clean her blade after tonight; as much as she wished to remain nothing more than a observer for now, it may become necessary for her to intervene. For now though she would watch the situation.
As she closed the distance between her and the smoke she began to hear the distinct sound of metal meeting metal. Now she could say with confidence that the convoy was under attack. By this time she was advancing through a sparse field of spire like rocks, each one reaching up towards the sky like the fingers of a dying god. When she reached the last spire the noise sounded close enough that she could probably take potshots at anyone close to the convoy.
She locked her rifle on her back before she placed her hand against the deep crimson coloured rock. She felt warmth pulse through it almost rhythmically, as though it was blood coursing through someone's veins. She never felt she had accidentally made an analogy which seemed so fitting.
Pushing her thoughts aside she crouched down before pushing herself high into the air like bullet. She felt the air rush around her body as she corkscrewed skywards before gravity began to drag her back down. Placing her feet on a shallow foothold, she pushed upwards as she dragged herself towards the top of the spire. An arm reached upwards and grasped the side of the top of the spire. She pulled herself up in a single fluid motion so that she was now crouched on the spire.
Mara gazed at the source of the sounds. She could see the struggle between mercenaries and a group of armed men, yielding pole axes, curving swords and elegant shields while only wearing pants, strange bronze masks and pieces of blue armour, and strange, blue skinned, avian-humanoid creatures who wielded similar weapons and wore similar blue armour.
She plucked an arrow from the holder on her Warfame's right shoulder. As she did a amathyst coloured, diamond shaped arrow tip began to materialise from the arrow shaft. Satisfied that she had the correct arrow, she flipped it and then thrust it into the rock beneath her feet.
In an instant she disappeared from sight. Cloaking arrows were difficult to use outside of their support role, but one thing they were good for was helping create little sniper nests. They were more energy efficient than using Ivara's cloaking system, especially since Mara intended to remain stationary for now.
Mara unholster her sniper rifle once again but didn't look down its sights. Instead she held it ready as she observed the situation from a distance. Judging from what she could see, the mercs had managed to rally round and were digging their heels in and despite having taken a lot of early causalities, they were starting to pull the situation back. Yet the aggressors still held the advantage in terms of numbers, which made their decision to have some of their forces take up defensive positions at the front of the now stopped convoy somewhat baffling. Why did they not use their numbers to overwhelm the mercs and finish the fight?
Still, despite this miscalculation the fight could still go either ways. Mara silently debated how she was going to adjust the odds without immediately tipping off either side that there was a Tenno (or whatever name the denizens of this place had given her). Her position, paired with the cloak arrow and suppressed Vulkar, ensured she could take advantage of the target rich environment, that being said she couldn't get careless; both the mercs and the aggressors would certainly notice heads being blown off.
Her mental debate was interrupted by a streak of blue lightning shrouded light raced towards the aggressors. It moved with such swiftness that even Mara didn't fully register its presence until it was about a second away from the convoy. Suddenly the light began to take a form, namely the form of purple clad Stormcast and their strange bird-horse hybrid steeds. Despite only becoming material a few seconds ago they maintained their momentum as they crashed into the aggressor's defensive lines, immediately they began to hack into the aggressors with a vengeance. Helena was particularly vicious as she made her assault; on several occasions she shattered shields and even enemy blades, often cleaving into the enemy with the same strike.
At this point, Mara could see the writing on the wall, the aggressors could probably hold out for a couple of moments before the Stormcast would overwhelm them and completely annihilate those that did not manage to withdraw. Mara would continue her observations though, hoping to learn more about the Stormcast and the aggressors. She had just begun to settle down when she spotted movement out of the corner of her warframe's eyes.
A group of the aggressors, six humans and three avian creatures, where leaving the battle as discreetly as possible, and to their credit neither the mercenaries or the Stormcast had notice them slipping away. One of the avian creatures was carrying a human (or at least humanoid), who was bound and gagged. Male, probably late adolescent, fair skin and blond hair which was about three shade away from being white. Clothing material looked too fine to belong to any of the caravans normal personal.
A thought occurred to Mara, perhaps the attack was intended to be diversion, that the disruption of supply lines was merely a secondary objective, that this abduction was the true objective.
Whatever the case, they were not in sight of the battle, but Mara had a shot on them.
The Tenno raised the rifle to her shoulder, the stock pressing against her Ivara's shoulder a little uncomfortably. Ignoring the discomfort caused by the Grineer weapon's construction, she gazed down the scope, which gave her a visual feed from the optical system mounted on the barrel. Slowly and calmly she began to draw a bead on her first target's head.
Her finger rested on the trigger.
Ulthan slowly began to come to his senses. For a moment his vision was swimming so badly that he couldn't make heads or tails of his situation. For a moment he thought he was now in the underworlds of Shyish, until he felt the familiar warm Aqshy air.
The Aelf's vision began to clear, albeit only enough to distinguish the figures around him. However he was able recall the events which lead to him being robbed of his consciousness with clarity before his vision had fully returned. He knew what he would be greeted be when it did.
That did not bring him even a slither or comfort.
His very rational fears were confirmed when he saw that three Kairic Acolytes were walking behind the disciple who was carrying him, their bronze masks seemingly bearing victorious grins as they walked silently across the sands, next to them was a Tzaangor with two small horns with a large great sword hanging off its back. To make matters worse he was being carried by a the Tzaangor who had killed Turic as he could see it's second fleshy head, in addition Ulthan's sword was hanging off its belt. In front of the mutant was another Tzaangor with long curving horns (probably the leader of the group), along with three more Acolytes.
Ulthan felt his heart hammer against his ribs. It wouldn't take anybody long to stumble across a story detailing what happened to those that the servants of the Chaos Gods took alive.
Forgotting any dignity he had, Ulthan began to struggle desperately. He knew very well that every limb was bound with thick rope, and that his mouth was gagged, but instinct had taken hold, and even if their was only a fraction of a chance of success, he would make every effort to escape before the cultists get what they wanted from the Aelf.
His struggling achieved very little. Two of the Acolytes behind him made some sort of remark to each other in a hissing, clicking tongue known only to them before the Tzaangor bringing up the rear walked up to the trussed up Aelf. The mutant grinned as it reached out and held a single taloned finger which was pressed against the Aelf's throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for Ulthan to definitely feel it.
"Foolish Aelf child." The Tzaangor spoke in a hissing, mocking tone, it's beak seemingly twisted into a cruel smile. "The dice have already been rolled... and there's nothing you can do to change the result of this round of the great game... just as your father could not change his fate."
At this point Ulthan was hyperventilating desperately and his body was stock still. By now fear had taken over his body as the Tzaangor gloated. He tried to keep some form of composure in hopes of retaining his dignity with little success; he wasn't give this creature the satisfaction of scaring him.
The Tzaangor was about to continue when Ulthan heard something wiz through air. Then the Tzaangor's head exploded in a shower of gore.
Ulthan's eyes suddenly went wide as a decaptated mutant fell to the ground, blood mingling with the sands. At first he thought that the mercenaries had found them, and a marksmen had blown off its head, but he saw no smoke, heard no gunshot. That scared him far more than the Tzaangor. Each of the cultists cursed, and began speaking in their tongue hurriedly, all of a sudden the surety of their success was gone.
The first victim's corpse had barely cooled before a second projectile could be heard traveling through the air before the gruesome sound of a head being cracked open was heard, this time at the front of the group. By now he could feel the rising panic as the fact that a unknown assailant was beginning to pick them off one by one sunk in.
The response to this revelation, a series of orders were hissed in the cultist's secret tongue before the survivors began to make haste. Ulthan was jostled around as the Tzaangor carrying him broke into a sprint. The Aelf heard a third gristly splatch from the front of the fleeing warband, as the cultists ran for cover they left behind a third headless comrade.
Mara calmly reloaded her weapon as she watched the fleeing aggressors run for a cluster of rocks, her Warframe's hands moving with practiced precision. So far they were behaving as she was expecting.
If their was one thing that soldiers from across the origin system agreed on, it was that the prospect of unwittingly straying into the crosshairs of a well hidden sniper was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that someone could take your life before you even realised that you were no longer on your feet was a very rational fear. This fact was clearly true here; after she killed the first bird creature, who seemed to be taunting the prisoner, the group attempted to try and locate her, when she killed the second bird creature, the group panicked.
After using her third shot to kill one of the humans, the aggressors ran into a cluster rocks. From what she could see their were three ways of exiting the cluster, each of them would place them in her firing line; so long as Mara was careful, they were cornered. However the clock was ticking as she was certain the Stormcast and mercenaries would be finished mopping up the aggressors soon. In addition the aggressors would not remain panicked forever, and might figure out where Mara was, a real possibility considering that she only had a few seconds left before her cloak arrow expired. If they decided to use the hostage as a human shield she wouldn't be able to shoot without endangering his life. To make matters worse this was the only good vantage point. She weighed up her options before she decided it was time to engage in close quarters combat.
Yet again, I'm throwing myself at the enemy and hoping for the best. She pushed her mental complaint aside as she stepped off the spire she had been standing on. The wind whistled past her Warframe as she plummeted towards the ground before she landed on her feet with grace.
The moment her feet met the ground, she brought her rifle back to her shoulder and activated her cloak, hiding her from the naked eye. Looking at the energy she had, she would be able to get close to her quarry, and would be able to get into an advantageous position, after that though she would only have enough energy to make a stealthy retreat once she was finished. She began to move forwards slowly and steadily as to minimise the energy drain from her cloak.
In absolute silence she crept forwards, stalking closer and closer to the doomed aggressors. Though focused on her quarry she maintained an awareness of her surroundings. She noted that the sounds of battle had quieted a little, by now the Stormcast were probably dealing with last of the stragglers.
From here on, the more time she spent, the more likely the Stormcast were going to find her. She could not afford to take any more time than was necessary.
Just as she was three quarters of the way towards the rocks she spotted one of the aggressors, a human, peeking out of cover with his turquoise shield covering his torso. From his point of view he was observing a reasonable amount of caution, his shield protected him from body shots while his mask would decrease the chance of him being killed by a headshot. However Mara knew it was a major misstep, her Vulkar, even though it's preferred target were those protected by Corpus shielding, could penetrate the mask and the shield.
Mara looked down the scope of her rifle as she came to a halt. She rested the dot at the centre of her crosshair with practiced precision, braced her rifle against her shoulder and pulled the trigger. The moment she did the sniper rife bucked, the uncomfortable stock making itself known as it pushed against her Warframe's shoulder, the sound of the gunshot was no louder than a polite cough. The cloak flickered a bit, but the Warframe was only visible for a split second. Mara brought the weapon back to its original position just in time to see an explosion of red as the man's head was promptly removed from existence in a spectacular fashion.
Mara barely stopped long enough to confirm her kill before she continued her silent advance; move and strike, that was the basis of the Tenno methodology of warfare.
Her quarry did not attempt to push out of cover as she slowly closed the distance, having now discovered that a sharpshooter does not need a high volume of fire in order to convince the enemy to keep their heads down. Slowly she made her way to the rock which the still twitching corpse was laying close to before she clambered up it. Before long she was gazing down at the surviving aggressors like a predatory bird.
The five survivors had pressed themselves against the stone walls, hiding from their unseen assailant, two against the rock Mara was standing on, three, including the remaining bird creature, against the rock to it's right with the hostage opposite them. The remaining humans were carrying swords and shields while the bird like creature held a single axe in its right hand and a sword (which didn't seem to belong to it) hung off its belt, the other hand seemed to be extremely mangled.
She had seen the human aggressors hurl fiery bolts during the attack on the convoy. She decided that tactics she often used to deal with shield lancers would probably be effective. However the bird creature could be an issue; while some may decided to ignore a weakened foe, in a situation where you are outnumbered you need to reduce the number of threats. Following that reasoning Mara decided that it should be the first to die. In addition to being wounded Mara had witnessed these creatures savagery, which would make it even more dangerous in confined quarters.
Mara clipped her sniper back onto her back before she silently dropped off her perch, right next to the bird creature with one hand on her Nikana and her other ready to unholster her pistol while still cloaked. Both of her first prey's heads were risking a peek around the corner, hoping that they would catch a glimpse of the sharpshooter that had taking potshots at them while not becoming another corpse.
Mara dropped her cloak, her warframe suddenly becoming visible before she sprung towards the bird creature, her blade already half out of the scabbard, steel glinting wickedly. The Tenno could see the bird creature's eyes widen as it realised the attacker was right on top of them and give a shrill screech. By then it was too late. Mara's blade slashed through the air in a horizontal arc of silver and blue which was quickly joined by spurts of foul black liquid as the Nikana cut through flesh and bone as it ripped through the creature's torso.
The creature was just starting to hit the ground as the when Mara had hasten towards the two humans who had been hiding along side it. She kept the momentum from her initial strike. Their comrade had warned them that they were under attack, but it would still be too late for them. Her blade flashed twice, crimson blood splattered around her as her blade did its lethal work before they got a glimpse of their adversary.
The last two humans had managed to rally and face the Tenno as their comrades fell to the dusty ground, shields raised in front of their bodies to protect themselves, in their hands were small balls of flame. Mara recognised their intent.
With her free hand she clasped her Plinx and raised the gaudy pistol so that she was gazing down the sights. In the time she did so both aggressors had stretched their free hands out, preparing to throw their arcane projectiles at the Warframe in hopes of beating the Tenno to the draw. For one, it was a vain hope as Mara levelled her pistol with precision before she pulled the trigger. The Corpus engineered sidearm fired a beam of energy the width of a pencil which burned through the target's mask and head with the heat of a sun. His brain was fried in an instant as he crumbled to the ground, the conjured flames guttering out as he died. The second aggressor managed a cast his bolt, energies leaping out of his hand in a concentrated super-heated bolt. Mara had enough time and space to move her torso instinctively, so that her back would catch the shot at an angle, an little trick used widely by Tenno and Corpus to minimise the amount of damage taken, though it wouldn't be as effective against the arcane bolt. She felt heat whip across her back as the fiery bolt impacted against her shields, but the shields held, albeit not as much as she would have liked, as the flames licked against them harmlessly for a few seconds before disappearing. During that period she had raised her sights and trained it on the head of the remaining aggressor. Another trigger pull put an end to his life, his body falling to the floor after another beam pierced a hole in his head.
Mara kept her gun raised as she observed her surroundings, scanning for any additional threats that had presented themselves during her deadly dance. Once she was satisfied that she and the hostage were the last two living beings in the immediate area, Mara clipped her pistol to her Ivara's hip before turning her attention to the hostage.
Now that she was closer, she realised that he had pointed ears, he was probably not as human as Mara believed. Still he had the very human emotion of fear in his green eyes as he realised he was standing in the presence of a apex killer who was more than capable at doing her job. The Tenno was used to these sorts of looks, especially from Ostron or Solari civilians, many of them regarded them or their supernatural abilities as myth until they witness one tear through enemies with contemptuous ease.
Mara knelt down before she grasped hold of the hostage's arm, she knew she was being somewhat rough but she needed him to keep his limbs still. She carefully rested her Nikana against the ropes that bound her arms and began to channel energy into the blade. The blade glowed a sapphire blue as it cut through the tight bundles of plant fibre. After the rope fell from the hostage's wrist she repeated this process with the rope around his ankles, though thankfully he had gotten her silent message and kept his legs still as she cut through his last binds.
As soon as his legs were free the now former hostage scrambled away from the Tenno, tear off his gag as he pulled the sword on the bird creature's belt free from its scabbard and held it in a defensive position. Mara didn't doubt that he had seen enough to now that if she wanted him dead, he would not be alive right now, but his survival instincts were in overdrive.
She simply just stood up before jumping onto the rock the largest rock and surveying her surroundings. Again she saw nothing; no hostile reinforcements, Stormcast or mercenaries. The cost was clear as far as the Tenno could see, though judging by the roars of victory the Stormcast had successfully driven off the aggressors.
"Who are you?!"
Mara turned her attention to the freed hostage. As she was observing her surroundings, he had retrieved the scabbard from the corpse of the bird creature and had now lowered his sword, lessening the chance of him doing something extremely stupid by a significant margin. The Tenno silently debated dignifying him with an answer. She was currently an enigma to everyone in the mortal realms, though eventually Helena would begin to put together the truth. Perhaps it was time to drop a subtle clue as to her intentions?
"What are you?"
Mara paused before she gave an answer.
"Tenno."
The freed hostage started a little at the sound of the voice of the Warframe, which sounded more like two feminine voices speaking in perfect synchronisation, overlaid to the point were it was nigh impossible to discern anything that could be used to identify Mara. His bafflement was clear.
Mara turned away. Like it or not, she would probably end up having to take a side in order to survive and have a chance of returning to the origin system, and like it or not she had extremely limited options. She still intended to perform some more observation work before she stepped into the light, but by giving Helena a shred of information she felt like she would communicate that she did not have hostile intentions.
At least that was Mara's intent; the Lord-Aquilor may interpret it differently, but the Tenno had made her decision, there was no turning back.
She sheathed her sword before she raised her Plinx skywards and discharged three shots into the sky, the blue energies lancing through the night before the Tenno disappeared into the night like a phantom.
Aventis Firestrike, high Magister of Hammerhal, slowly made his way through the maze like laboratory of Eisen Oswal.
As a Lord-Arcanum of the Hammers of Sigmar he was no stranger to magical laboratories; the Sancrosant chambers where primarily seen by mortal folk on the field of battle, where they smote the enemy with lightning and celestial magic, or known by them for their role in reforging, the process which allowed Stormcast to be reincarnated, yet they sometimes played the role of scholar, furthering their knowledge in magic and engineering to aid the Storm eternal in the war against Chaos and the dead. Their mortal counterparts, the Collegiate Arcane, where no different; on top of educating young mages on how best to use their powers and fighting alongside the armies of the free peoples, they often undertook research projects. Due to his responsibilities as High-Magister he often played a role in supervising these projects, meaning he had seen a lot of Collegiate laboratories.
He had yet to find a laboratory like Eisen's. It was a maze of shelves and tables, each one was filled with samples, experiments, instruments both mundane and magical and notes and journals. It continued to amazing Aventis that such a workplace for a wizard could be so untidy.
He turned a corner, past a table which contained a sealed box labelled 'Aether gold' with various instruments attached and surrounded by at least half a dozen notes written in a messy shorthand. He found a man dressed in golden and white robes hunched over a magnifying glass which was suspended by a metal aperture over a cluster of crystals which glowed with a golden light.
"Professor?"
The man turned to face him, clearly aged with a pair of goggles secured to his bald head with a thick leather strap. Aventis could see that the fingers of the golden wizard were slightly silver, not uncommon due to their penchant for experimentation and their transmutative arts. Despite being dressed in full sigmarite plate and holding his staff of office, Eisen was not intimidated by the Stormcast, instead he just smiled apologetically.
"Forgive me High-Magister, I got a little distracted observing sun crystals."
"You have no need to apologise professor. Just please be more aware of when someone enters your laboratory, we still haven't caught Loremaster Althorian's killers." Aventis said, his voice carrying through the air with ease.
The golden wizard's expression was somewhat sullied at the mention of Althorian's murder. "So I've heard; I've spoken with the freeguilders about additional security and have come to a agreement, so there's no need to worry about me. Anyway, what brings you here to my humble laboratory this evening?"
"The sample that was recovered by Lord-Aquilor Tempestborn." Aventis stated.
Eisen stood straight. "The throwing blade? I believe I have made some... rather interesting observations. If you would please follow me."
Aventis nodded before the wizard set off through the maze with the Lord-Arcanum in tow. Despite his age, Eisen moved through the lab with confidence, seemingly knowing exactly which way to turn, even though most would feel like they would need a Aetheric compass to navigate the confines of the lab.
Aventis was well aware of the Lord-Aquilor's reputation. The Vanguard-Auxiliary Chambers of the Astral Templars were rightfully well renown, and Lord Tempestborn, whom her chamber named themselves after, was one of the most famous, not least because of number of victories to her name, but the fact that she was reforged as a lord-Aquilor rather than a Lord-Celestant and being promoted to a Lord-Aquilor later. So when she sent a message with a record of an encounter with a mysterious assassin and a throwing blade with a request to take a closer look at it, he immediately handed it to Eisen for study.
Finally they came to a sturdy looking door, covered in iron banding, a keyhole located on its left side. The golden wizard produced a iron key with Duradin runes caved along it. Eisen inserted it into the lock, the runes glowed orange, before turning blue. The wizard turned the key with a heavy clunk before he pulled the door open. The wizard entered first before the Stormcast followed him into the chamber, closing the heavy door behind him.
The room was dimly lit, unlike the rest of the laboratory. A stack of books stood next to a stone table which held a metal plate which had arcane carvings etched onto it. Above the plate, surspeneded by magic like the needle of a compass, was a yellow ribboned throwing knife. Next to it was another magnifying glass mounted on a movable arm, akin to the one that Eisen had been using before when the High Magister found him, and a leather bound journal.
"Right, where to begin..." Eisen sighed, Aventis could hear an edge of frustration to the wizard's voice, which was unusual given that he felt like studying the material of the blade would be something that would in his field of expertise.
"The blade is possibly one of the biggest mysteries I have encountered in my tenure as a scholar." He began before he picked up the journal before offering it to Aventis.
"This journal contains my findings pertaining to the sample, I will summarise them by saying this; the vast majority of the material used in its construction does not match any metals found in the mortal realms."
That caught Aventis off guard, especially since it was coming from one of the foremost experts of the lore of metal. "Are you certain?"
"I do not like to use the word certain when discussing these sorts of matters, but yes. While most of the materials used share basic qualities with those found in the mortal realms, there are too many differences to say that they match anything seen before." Eisen looked at the blade as it hung in the air. "Out of curiosity I looked at the material used in the ribbon, and to my surprise the fibres do not match any silk known I was able to compare it with. Yet that isn't the strangest mystery."
Carefully Eisen removed the blade from the magical field, being mindful of the razor sharp edge age as he held it out to the Stormcast. "Hold this, and tell me what you feel."
Aventis hesitated for a moment before he took the blade. Despite the Golden wizard's eccentricities, he doubted that he would hand him something cursed, at least not without warning him.
The High-Magister held the blade in his gauntleted hands as he closed his eyes. He could feel the energies that coated the blade. The moment he felt it something felt off... not in a way that betrayed a malignant purpose, nor did it signal benign enchantments, it just felt strange.
"I... can't quiet describe it in any way other than odd." Aventis said as handed the blade back to Eisen. "It certainly doesn't feel like the kind of magic which is drawn from the winds, or the Aetheric Void."
"Indeed. I only have a guess... a theory as to what those energise are." Eisen placed the blade back to hover in the magical field before he began. "What do you know of the true void?"
"The true Void lies beyond the Aetheric Void. Unlike the Aetheric Void which can be traveled across and whose power can be channeled to unpick spells, no one has succeeded in drawing power from the true void or traversing it. Even Archon at the height of his power during the age of chaos, with the aid of the gaunt summoners failed." Aventis answered. "Other than that, it is a mystery to all."
"That is correct... though there are certain circles which believe that if a creature was born from the void, it could channel its power, and that spells conjured with the power of the true void could ignore most, of not all wards and countermeasures designed to thwart the use of magic."
Suddenly it Aventis realised the origin of the assassin that Helena had encountered during her mission.
"You mean to say that the assassin who used the blade came from the true void?"
"Yes, the assassin either hails from the void or from a realm beyond the void."
AN: whew, done, right.
I'm probably not going to right from Ulthan's POV as much as this chapter though he is going to be a recurring character. I've gotten a good deal of world building/connecting done and I have a plan for Arc 1/book 1, this is a major project for me and I'm trying to approach it like one. I was originally going to write the fight between Mara and the disiciples of Tzeentch from Ulthan's POV but decided against it as I really need to also practice writing Tenno fight scenes from the Tenno's POV since they aren't always going to have an audience for their kickarsey.
Before I go, shoutout to SpartanCommander and -not Donut- Powerus, both have helped me massively with that aforementioned world building/connecting and just helping me lob ideas around.
Update 21/11/2019: Okay, I have a bit of an update for the status of this story, and... well it isn't exactly positive news. Recently I have been struggling with my mental health, and while I have gotten better, my head still isn't in the best place. To make matters worse, uni is now in full swing, so that dosen't exactly help either. I have been trying to write another chapter, but its actually proving to feel like a chore. I have come to the decision to take a break from this story.
I apologise for effectively leaving those of you who follow this story hanging. I have recieved overwhelmingly positive feedback from all of you, the amount of favourites and follows I have recieved because of this story is staggering, but I need to take a break from this project, least I burn myself out like I did with soldiers of fate and legacy of iron. I'm considering doing other projects, trying to write something else as to rekindle my enthusiasm in this one, but there almost certainly won't be a new Void Born chapter in 2019.