My apologies for this being so late. (Respective things to their respective owners, you know the deal.)
The wind whispered quietly over her head, the breeze bringing with it the smell of the sea, and cherries. She attempted to open her eyes, but found to her dismay they were held shut, not by any life form but by something none the less horrible most likely. She raised her arms slowly, checking for any possible resistance, waiting for any retaliations against her acts of free will. Through a minute of cautious approach and hesitant waiting, her hands finally reached just under her eyes. Though her flesh was unblemished from birth and even her time in service, it was not that way now. Several trails of hard crust ran down her face, along her checks and cut off at the edge of her chin. They were familiar though, it had happened before. At a slow pace she began to dig her gloves into the rough textures coating her face, slowly pulling them away in an attempt to not agitate her skin.
Her hands arrived just above her eyes, their task almost complete in restoring her skin back to its natural state. With some hesitation she reached forward for the last time, and begun to remove the final pieces that had welded her eyes shut so efficiently. With a tug and a small amount of grunting in pain, the residue was removed, and cast to the ground underneath her, letting her eyes unfurl and granting her sight upon the world.
In front of her lay the sea, reaching far and wide, the breeze rising strait at her, the curved lip that gave her sight revealed that she rested high above the water, atop a cliff of medium size. She rose from her position, soft grass curling around her booted feet in longing of her presence. She twirled slightly, her heavy robes being barely lifted by the action, getting a feel for the area. To her right lay the continuation of the cliff, which slowly began to shift downward, soon reaching the beech where deep blue water meet endless white sand. To her left stretched the edge, grassland, flowers and small flying creatures swirling in the wind, their colors revealing a rainbow of wonderful color. Behind her lie perhaps the most wonderful thing, a glorious forest, full of trees some short and thin with glorious pink leafs and dark bark, the others tall and wide, white bark covering them and their light green leaves as they grew up to reach the sky. The forest was not thick enough to have large amounts of under growth, but was none the less beautiful, the breeze taking fallen leaves and swirling them in small whirlwinds of fast moving petals and color. It was breath taking. It was paradise, and she loved it.
"I must be dead." She spoke aloud, to no one in particular, for not a soul was around. Her eyes scanned the area once again, looking for anything un-natural, any sign of Imperial architecture or even person. She slowly sank down, her head bowed, allowing her long blonde locks to fall over her face. She ran her hands through them on the left side, a habit of hers when sorrow approached. The red crust and residue shuffled in the wind, holding onto the grass in final moments to see themselves be replaced by a clear substance that ran down the woman's first a small trail etched down by a single one, to then followed by countless more, till it as no longer a trail but rather a waterfall of tears. Her small frame ran out with muffled cries and sobs, wondering how fate had gotten ridden of her. She knew deep down inside that she was the death of her comrades, for not being quick enough to stop the portal, not being strong enough to shield them. Her sobs grew louder, echoing around the cliff in an orchestra of despair.
Her cries did not go un-noticed however, as a black shadow seemed to peel itself off the trees from the edge of the forest. It circled around the tree, standing less than 50 feet from the woman. The shadow approached, shadows peeling off to give form to the stature of a man, tall and intimidating. His coat reached all the way down past his knees, the color of starless night. He wore a helmet and a mask, his face covered by the breathing apparatus, a heavy cord reaching down and over the side of his jacket which was left open to reveal a shinning breastplate. His boots landed against the ground, steps almost silent beneath the background breeze. His mask, stylized in the likes of a skull, tilted just slightly to the side, the person beneath deep within thought. Almost unconsciously his right arm pulled back, slowly reaching down towards the belt where a bulky sword laid. Pulling forward, the sword left its place, carried upwards by the arm. The blade was slowly tilted forward, resting to where the tip was faced nearly forward, or where the tip would be, if the sword was of the most standard design. This was not, the marvelous chain sword laid at rest, the small sharp blades embedded along the blade side immobile, waiting to be put into action once more. For now though, they were slightly covered with specks of blood, revealing evidence of a battle not long passed.
The shadow slowly crept forward, sword aimed at the woman in the unlike ability that she decided to test it. Though no particular studier of the woman or those of her ilk, he knew that at any moment that she could become dangerous, an unholy vortex of destruction, resulting in the deaths, or worse, enslavement of those around her, especially after an event as traumatic as the one shared but minutes ago. Though he had not been conscious for most of the journey, the shadow understood what had happened, and he knew caution was of the best order, least he test fate and lose his life and his soul. He kept pace, slowly closing the gap between himself and the woman, till he was but ten feet away. The woman shifted, her crying still unchanged, but did not take notice of the shadow's close presence. He shifted to the off foot, drawing the sword back and raising his left arm, along with its sanctified tool.
Under the shadow of the trees, it would have been hard to make out, but the shadow's entire dark and deep color scheme was interrupted by three things. The first was upon his right shoulder, imprinted into the steel plates that lay upon his shoulder. It was tree red squares, laid atop each other at a diagonal angle, resulting in an almost diamond shape. The imprint was set upon two white wings, similar to that of an angel. The secondary incursion was atop the opposite plate on the other shoulder, where instead of any markings or regiment number lie a stylized capital I, struck through in the center by three parallel dashes lay, creating the symbol to be black. The entire symbol was outlined in red, with a few small litanies resting underneath. Within the eye, on top of the dashes was a skull, not tattooed into the plate but actual made into it, leaving a rise in the shoulder, that of a small human's skull. The last incursion was what lay strapped to the shadow's arm, his tool of office.
It was a forearm mount, braced in durasteel and lined with ceramite. It encased a display up towards the shadow, readouts and scanner feedback relaying that from the receivers just below the wrist. On the far side, facing away from the man an pointing forward lay that of a sword bladed saw, similar to the sword the shadow held tight but lacking a guard along its tipped edge. Needles and small flat points lay along side, farther back as inspectors and scanners. The machine held a variety of small blinking lights along the case, covered in a clear white. The entire thing had been recently cleaned, a small shine resting to it unlike the weapon within the shadow's hand. A large drill head lay underneath the bladed part, stretching out past the shadow's gloved hand. The glorious piece of equipment laid at rest, waiting to be activated at a moment's notice.
"Death or healing, which do you seek?"
The shadow's voice carried out above the crashing waves, deep and masculine, its word heavy and purposeful, ready to act upon the answer of the question. The woman halted her crying, looking up finally at the shadow that lay in front of her, brushing her hair away from her eyes as she tried to halt the endless sniffling. Resting her weary and bloodshot eyes on the shadow, her eyes taking in its features. Recognition pushed past despair and clouded mind to put together the familiarity of the shadow. Both robe and coat flapped in the wind as the two starred at each other, the wind picking up.
"Are you unable of speech? Are your cognitive skills impaired?" The shadow spoke once again, looking down upon the woman, his eyes already attempting to analysis if she was able to receive the emperor's blessing or whether she would be able to fight on. Fate took an odd turn when a small smile cracked into existence upon the woman's face, small laughter escaping her lips as she stood upwards on shaky legs.
"It's good to see you Mal" She said, the joy in her voice suddenly over shadowing her recent despair. The shadow, no proclaimed as "Mal" by the woman took a half step backward as the woman rose, lowering his stance, his mask no longer tilted to the side. He was taken by surprise as she rushed forward, as in an attempt to crush him. He barely had time to move his hands upward so that neither the sword nor his tool of office strike her. Though her grasp was not constraining enough to cause damage, Mal was still put off by the actions of the woman in front of him. He had already compiled a number of reasons for her actions. Warp trauma was perhaps the most prominent reason he could think of and considering the patient at the moment was a high leveling psyker, he decided to just keep calm, and hope a warp daemon didn't decide to make itself into existence through her soul.
The wind struck both them, the breeze picking up around the entwined comrades. Mal stood stock still, his weapons raised above his head almost in that of surrender, if he understood the term. The woman, her body wracked with small sniffles and now the return of some tears as she leaned into her embrace around Mal, though these were not tears of despair or pain, rather those of joy for finding one of her comrades, neigh, friends (If it was possible to identify a Death Korps Grenadier as one)in this strange place. As the though ran across her mind however, she stiffened, halting her embrace.
"Where are we? Last thing I remember was the warp portal, and then the awful screaming and warpfire." She asked, looking straight up into Mal's mask. He lowered his arms, thankful to being released from the ecstatic psyker. Considering his own memory on the matter, he simply shrugged, signifying a "I have no clue" much to the disappointment of the woman. The two looked around, still put out by their surroundings.
"So I'm guessing that you have no idea where the rest of the retinue is, or the inquisitor is for that matter?" She asked, hesitance creeping into her words as she prepared for the worst answer. Mal's helmet shook side to side, his answer apparent and even though she already knew what the answer was it still brought a crease to her brow and sorrow to her eyes. "Well... Frakk." Mal leaned a small bit back at this, never before having heard the woman swear before. He personally hoped that she did not make it a habit. His eyes however, caught at the lip of the clip, revealing dark clouds, run through by forks of lighting at periodic times. He tapped the psyker's shoulder, pointing behind her. She turned, looking out to the sea and nodded in agreement, already knowing what Mal had planned. She turned back around at Mal, who had already begun to march away towards the forest. She began to pick up the pace, catching up to the edge of the forest right as Mal stopped, where he then stooped low against the side of one of the trees to grab something. Before the woman could even lean forward to question what he was after, a pole stood a mere foot in front of her, held up straight by Mal's unwavering hand.
This however, was no pole, for it was the woman's treasured staff, part of her being as it was. The smooth wooden pole stood at Mal's height, looming over the shorter woman who carried it. The bottom half was fitted with a steel guard, made for walking over most surfaces and protected the food from wear and tear. The center of the staff was wrapped in leather, acting as handhold akin to that of a walking stick, making it easier to grasp. Along the shaft lay small floras of paper, picked up by the rising wind, each one imprinted with litanies and prayers, protections and wards against the horrible forces of the warp. The top of the staff was capped by an enlarged symbol , the exact same as the one resting upon Mal's left shoulder pad. The only difference was that the skull that resided in the center was replaced by an enlarged eye, which flickered odd light every once and awhile. Atop the Sigil rest a double headed eagle, a motif spread across both of the persona's armor and robes. The staff was weapon, as well a buoy, meant to be a bulwark against the warp as well as weaponize its powers.
Re-united with her staff, the scowl previously worn was completely annihilated, replaced by a beautiful smile, She reached out, grasping the smooth wood with one hand before pulling it from Mal's retreating hand. She raised it up a bit, inspecting the staff for any cracks or blemishes that may have occurred during the passing. It shone, perfect and reflective like the day it had been made. Bring it back down, she looked to Mal and nodded her head once, conveying her thanks to the Guardsman. He gave no reply, turning abruptly and begun a marching pace into the forest. The woman looked over her shoulder at the cliff, watching the dark clouds hat rolled above, slowly closing in on the land. She turned back around, once again sprinting to catch up with the swift moving Grenadier.
Thirty minutes into their march had the rain started, at first a small speckle at a time as the clouds moved closer and closer. Soon the rain came swiftly, increasing by the second until a torrential down-pour erupted from the sky. The rain did not hinder the duo however, the woman casting a shield around their persona, the rain deflecting and sliding off in waves. The breeze shoved against the trees and shield alike, the branches far above wavering like sails in the wind. Each hard wave of air sent a small ripple along the shield, drawing forth designs and enigmas in the dark light. Soon however, the light had faded from the sky, descending upon them as the sun slowly began its decent somewhere. An hour later the duo were encased in darkness, save for the flashlight mounted upon Mal's helmet. The light shone back and forth, sweeping the area . They continued for a little while longer, until the trees decided to spread out, marking the end of the forest, and the beginning of a wide field, full of tall grass. On the horizon in front of them, stood the outline of buildings, their roofs given away by small fires.
The woman looked to Mal, her concern clear. Those were no ordinary fires.
Author's Note: Once again I'm sorry for this being late, last week has been a bit more stressful with certain things in my life, alongside the fact that I completely Fragged my sleep schedule. NO excuses for my actions, just a few explanations. As a reward to the faithful I shall be putting out a longer chapter on the 26th as repentance for my tardiness, which will include our final three characters. After that we begin the fun stuff. I gotta say the set up is really hard to write, all the boring stuff needing to be pushed up front so we can have all sorts of ideas and branch-offs of reasonable degree latter. IF you guys can tell me where Mal and the Psyker are, I'll be very thankful, hopefully I described the scene well enough. If not you'll know in four chapters. Also, the scene of chapters, to add on to the plotline and the way things work I will be putting it into segments; First chapter is Drakken, the next Apheal and the Techpriest, the third on the psyker and Mal, and the fourth on Jordis, the adept, and the Sister of Battle. The chapters will be looped from that arrangement. Any reviews or responses are welcome, and if you have any questions just PM me (Within reason). See you all on the 26th!
