Locum Ignotum Chapter 18
Under the contoured sky there was a hill, a bleak and barren peak made of mud and loose stone. It was little more than a ridge in the earth, with no remarkable features but it was about to become the site around which destiny would pivot. Standing upon that hill was Jubila, impatiently waiting for events to unfold. With him were hundreds of his loyal cultists and a score of Chaos Marines, his most favoured Chosen. They had gathered here for the culmination of their efforts, their campaign to break this land open and claim it for themselves.
Jubila tapped his boot impatiently and said, "This had better work."
"It will work," the Sorcerer Rebis said in masculine tones but then in feminine voice continued, "The walls have been weakened, a rift will soon form."
Jubila watched on as Rebis went back to his ritual, chanting and carving strange symbols into the dirt. Jubila had ordered Rebis to open a doorway to the Warp, a rift that would allow him to summon Daemons into this land. It had taken a monotonously long time to break enough Menhirs to allow this to work but at last the desired result was within their grasp.
From behind, Jubila heard the voice of Salmacis say, "This is taking too long."
The warlord glanced over and said, "It will be worth it, the delights that will come to us shall make it all worthwhile."
From the other side of him Baeghost was loudly chewing the marrow from a human thigh bone but still grumbled, "It better had, there has been strong resistance."
Jubila cocked his head and said, "Yes, who would have expected lickspittles of the Throne to be here. Still it doesn't matter, they can't stop us now."
Salmacis muttered, "They have slaughtered our cultists, they repulsed our main thrust from a miniscule town. The survivors are still weeping of a giant metal monster, breaking them utterly."
Jubila snorted and said, "I care nothing for those worthless wretches, let them die if it slows down the Storm Heralds."
Baeghost swallowed his chew toy and said, "Storm who?"
"A bunch of complete nobodies," Jubila answered dismissively, "I recognised their colours as they flew overhead. I was part of the great slaughter of their Fortress-Monastery some time ago… I think I still have one of their helms on a banner pole somewhere or other."
In the crowd behind Jubila one of the Chosen whispered to a comrade, "Some slaughter, he cut and run as soon as the going got tough." Jubila's head didn't move an inch but instantly his Charnabal sabre was in his hand and sweeping laterally about. It neatly severed the Chosen's head clean off his shoulders before he even saw it coming, the silver blade ending his life in one stroke. Jubila didn't even bother to look at the falling corpse, merely returning his blade to its scabbard as he said, "Now as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, once we have our allies with us we can take this place for our own. It will become a floating Palace of Slaanesh, a base of operations for us to reave across reality itself."
Baeghost ignored the cooling corpse at their feet and rumbled, "What of Abaddon?"
Jubila sneered, "What of him?"
Baeghost dared to say, "The Despoiler will want a piece of this place when he hears of it, he always expects his due."
"I don't answer to him," Jubila laughed, "He's thrown everything he has at Cadia and lost most of it in the process. He is a spent force; it will take him at least a century to claw back a semblance of his power."
Abruptly Rebis stiffened and paused in his preparations as he hissed, "The Sacrifice!"
Jubila waved a cultist forward whom pulled a struggling lad, who was bound hand and foot, then forced him to his knees. He had been captured in the recent raids and brought here unmarked. Rebis pulled a black dagger from his belt and loomed over the captive, terrifying in his mad intent. Long seconds passed and then Rebis moved, stabbing the dagger right into the throat of the cultist holding the lad down.
Jubila laughed at the betrayal, "Ha, there's a reason that one is a classic."
The cultist grabbed at his neck but was too late as his lifeblood flowed freely. The man toppled over but his blood stayed in mid-air hanging impossibly in a diffuse cloud. Rebis spat a strange string of words and the blood began to spin, describing a large circle in the air, one that grew darker and darker. The golden radiance faded around them and the world fell into a dim gloom as a portal began to open, a doorway into another realm.
Rebis slammed his staff down and the portal cracked open, tearing a black rift into reality itself. The rift bulged and rippled like a sheet in the wind and strange multi-coloured hues swam in its depths. Jubila watched with glee as the colours grew more intense, knowing that he was staring into the warp and something in there was staring back at him. Jubila raised his arms and cried, "Come to me, children of Slaanesh, come and feed on our offerings!"
The colours surged forward and then from out of the crackling infinity came a blob of colour, a lurid hue that moved like oil upon water. It crossed the threshold of the rift and fell down, landing upon the ground with a squelch. The blob heaved and pulsed, quivering like a living thing as it tried to move under the unaccustomed weight of gravity. Jubila watched intently as the blob contracted and hardened, compressed by the hateful pressure of reality into a solid mass.
Jubila was familiar with the nature of the Neverborn and he recognised that before him was a lesser Daemon of Slaanesh, a Bringer of Joyous Degradation and a Seeker of Decadence: a Daemonette. He knew such entities were the most numerous of the Dark Prince's Legions, messengers and servants sent to do his bidding. They had little to no sentience of their own, being an expression of feral desire, but they possessed a low cunning that could easily be mistaken for intelligence. Above all they excelled at finding a man's finding desires, bringing their most depraved and burning ambitions to the fore.
The Neverborn before him seemed to be having trouble adapting to reality, struggling to construct a physical vessel out of the raw elements around it. Jubila watched with interest as it flowed and bulged, becoming a variety of shapes, first it was a spiked wheel, then a thorn, then a cup of poison and then a spiked lash. On and on the shapes came, changing from moment to moment as the entity tried to match its nature to a form that suited. Jubila saw in one moment a purple feline and in the next a gaping maw with long fangs and then a snake with the face of a dog. The Daemon adopting a myriad of forms as it tried to adapt to the unfamiliar sensation of being real.
Suddenly the entity stilled as it found a shape that seemed right, a form that best expressed its nature. Jubila looked upon the form the Daemonette had chosen and was delighted. Before him stood a lithe feminine creature, with silky skin and perfect thighs and a dainty pouting face, all wrapped in a ribbed corset. It was a vision to make a man's heart beat faster but that alluring appearance was but a cover for something truly foul.
Once one saw past the glamour the abomination became clear, for it hid a vile countenance. Its legs were human to begin with but at the knees they twisted backwards like an animal and its feet were splayed claws with wicked talons. Between its legs hung a long tail that moved like a snake while its left hand was deformed hook and the right a massive crab-like pincer, with serrated edges that glistened with poisons. Its head bore twisted horns arising from its skull, which swept behind it like a veil in the wind.
Worse of all was its face, for there was not a trace of humanity there. All its features were filled with a bestial hunger, a craving for unspeakable atrocity and a yearning to drink deeply on suffering and pain. To look into its eyes was to lose one's soul and any mortal so foolish would have screamed in horror and desire, knowing they could never forget the sight. Cultists all around gasped in wondrous amazement and disgust as Jubila smiled widely and leaned in saying, "Well, hello my pretty."
The Daemonette spun on the spot, moving like a poorly edited pict-film. One instant it was several feet away from the Warlord and the next it was at Jubila's throat, its massive claw wrapped around his gorget. It hissed in challenge and extended a forked tongue from its mouth, waving it in front of his face to drink in his terror.
Jubila however was not afraid, his smile widened even more and he nestled his neck into the claw, letting the tongue lick his face. He breathed in its musk and said, "So my sweet, you have come to take me away from this dull existence. Are you here to show me the ultimate experience that waits beyond death?"
The Daemonette blinked in confusion, its simple mentality struggling to cope with the situation. It was an entity made from raw emotion and passion, it needed terror and suffering to feast upon, it needed its victims to be tormented. This loving embrace and openness was loathsome to its nature, it wanted anguish, not this unconditional acceptance. The Daemonette let go and staggered back, uncertain as to what was happening. Jubila cocked a hairless eyebrow and said, "Alas not today, oh well, there are other amusements to be found. Look all around, a feast awaits your kind."
The Daemonette didn't speak any language of man but it could read intent like a book. Its head shifted to the horizon and it looked like it was sniffing the air like a hound. Suddenly it tensed as it scented a bounty of souls just waiting to be feasted upon. In one great leap it bounded forward and fell upon the nearest cultist, eviscerating the man with a sweep of its claws. The deranged worshipper screamed in horror and ecstasy as he died and the Daemonette swept on. It killed any mortal in reach but ignored the Chaos Marines, their souls already too mired in Chaos to be of any interest to it.
From behind Jubila, Rebis said in masculine tones, "That was but the first, a whole army comes after."
Then in a feminine tone continued, "You might want to stand back a bit."
Jubila backed off as the rift expanded, climbing high over their heads and spreading out ever wider. The unearthly hues rippled again as another entity came through, this time adapting much faster than its kin. It took on the form of a small simian with large black wings and leapt into the sky, instantly flying to join the slaughter. The next Neverborn became a two-legged steed with a sphincter-like mouth which galloped into the fray and the one after that became a chariot covered in barbs.
On and on they came, growing in number as their rate of emergence increased. Their forms and shapes becoming ever more varied and Jubila delighted to see such a plethora of designs, each one abhorrent and alluring in equal measure. They filled the land all around the rift and darkened the skies, crooning and cawing in an animalistic feeding frenzy as they tore the cultists apart. In only a couple of minutes they had exhausted the supply of mortal worshippers and spread out further, seeking more souls to feast upon. Jubila watched as the Daemonic army poured out of the rift and laughed loudly, "The time has come; this land is ours for the taking!"
Behind him Baeghost rumbled, "What of the Storm Heralds?"
Jubila grinned and said, "What do they have that can stand against this? Our victory is assured."
Salmacis dared to say, "I wouldn't underestimate them, the Throne's lickspittles are blinkered fools but they are annoyingly tenacious."
"Good," Jubila declared as he watched the Daemons fly free in all directions, "If they make a fight of it that will only add to the fun. Come quickly, we must keep up. I don't want to miss all the excitement."
