Warhammer 40K: Socialising

Growling agreement to Brother Hakets words rolled in from all the Wardogs, Lord Taarn included.
"But for now we hold and wait, Brothers." The Venerable Champion of Terra added.

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A long, greenish-blue tentacle, thick and strong, lowered the magnoculars from the beautifully twisted face of Sccician Slaid. He leaned back into his cowl and considered distant drama millitas unfolding among the hills, at least 30 leagues away.

"An interesting development Fidian" He hissed through needled teeth. "It would appear The Husk's lackies have engaged Miriatas at the edge of his domain."

"Bah, unlikely." Grunted the Aspiring Champion. Garbed in the outlandishly vivid colors of his Void Rager mercenary unit, the formidable warrior leaned on his prized power-axe.
"Most likely it was he who engaged them. I'll bet you a two bottles of shrneskelor that the fool simply upset them a bit, and has drawn more than he bargained on.
Imperial dogs have more than enough bite to disrupt his calm."

Sccician chuckled. "Undoubtably. Have word sent to to Lord Scyntilas that our work is being done for us, and what does he wish we do now?"

Sorcerer Slaid of the Vile Omen Cult went back to watching the show unfold, while Fidian dispatched a missive to his Master.

Taric absently responded to Atash's comments on the Chryos line. "I recall that they still failed to notice the plot that was afoot." He was watching the actions of the Figure half revealing itself among the rocks. He raised his gifted Bolter and set to watching it thru its ancient iron sights. 

"Brother, the point i was leading into before now seems more pressing, so i will be Direct. If this comes to a fight, we will need your ability's. More than likely, if they have a Sorcerer, it will be more powerful than you. I mean no insult brother, but you are out of practice." Taric spoke on a private channel to the Lexicanam, his tone was calm, almost deadpan other than the slight inflections indicating his concern for Atash.

"Probably just as well," Atash replied in kind to Taric's absent comment, shifting a little to rest his bolter more securely against the barricade. One hand briefly drifted down to check on the khopesh hung at his hip, making sure it was ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

As Taric addressed him over a private channel, Atash turned his head towards him for a moment, then looked back out over the rocky desert surrounding the encampment. "Do not concern yourself over my state of readiness, brother," Atash replied with detached calm over the private line. "While I agree that whatever sorcerers they have will be more powerful than me, a Shadowed Sun is never out of practice - and I have learned a few new tricks since last time."

"It is good to hear Brother. We will need them. We do not need you to be better than their sorcerers alone. We fight as one, and if you can dampen or distract the foe, or offer protection against them. Whatever your ability's permit. We stand ready to capitalize on your advantage." Taric was tracking the foes sporadic appearances, trying to discern any pattern. 

"Can you dampen them? By strength of will i was able to deny the witch-creatures flames, and i am no psycher. You are. Focus your will and you can hamper them, Even throttle their flow of warp energies. You are a trained in the arts of the Librarius, and we will need you in this war to fight them on their own field. You need not win outright, the fact that they must fight you is all we need. The moment of hesitation in a fight." Taric spoke in absolutes, every fact an undoubted truth. 

Taric lied. He knew little of warpcraft, and his knowledge on Atash's ability was limited to the manipulation of flame. But he knew his will was able to overcome a creature that was seemed more powerful than any librarian he knew, and he did so for one reason. He had absolute faith in the Emperors protection. He believed he could withstand the torrent, and he did. His faith, no doubt magnified by the sisters blessing protected him. His contempt offering the greatest armor again the preditations of the warp. 

Atash could manipulate warp flames, it stood to reason that with the same conviction Taric had in himself, the Lexicanum could do much more.

Taric needed the warrior he recalled from the Rooftop a year and two days past. The warrior that battled the almost forgotten beast in single combat, who held it at bay. First, Taric felt he must remind that Warrior Who He Was. 

With a shuddering breath, Taric convulsed and fell to his braced knee.

Atash felt a flare of irritation as Taric lectured him, and he had to take a moment to calm himself again before replying. "Yes, I can dampen them, and more - and you do not need to tell me how to do my job," he replied, a little more sharply than he had intended.

Apparently his temper wasn't quite as in check as he'd thought.

He took a calming breath, but before he could say or do anything else, Taric suddenly convulsed and dropped to one knee. "Taric?!" Atash immediately knelt down beside him, trying to figure out what had happened. There had been no sound of a gunshot, and he had felt no ripple in the warp, no sign of a psychic attack - but just because he hadn't felt anything didn't mean there had been nothing to feel. "Brother, what happened?"

Even as he knelt beside Taric, Atash reached out with his mental senses once more, trying to find some hint of whatever had felled his battle-brother.

Something in Tarics brain popped. Not something physical, something placed. Something left loose, or incomplete. With a sharp jab of pain, Taric remembered. Not much, just a little. Just enough. 

"I-" he started, regaining his bearings. "I am alright, It was not an attack." Tarik got back to his kneeling position, and re-grounded himself in the now. 

"The event on the Rooftop. After the fact, we were mind wiped. I do not recall why, only that i agreed to it willing. Something of our foe was... corrupting, i should guess. Some of it slipped loose... I will submit myself to ensure it will not all unravel later, for now my memory's are important."

Taric faced Atash, Looking into his impassive lenses. "The beast on the rooftop was akin to the one two days ago. Unlike, but both entered from the warp, and both were powerful psychers. Two day's ago you.. withdrew to the Storm-raven, rather than counter the sorcery at hand. I had thought you were perhaps unable. But The beast on the roof tried to cast some spell. It was powerful, but You Nullified it."

Atash let out a quiet sigh of relief as Taric recovered himself and assured him that it hadn't been an attack. Once he was sure that Taric was steady, Atash returned to his own position on the barricade, though he kept glancing over at his battle-brother to ensure that Taric was still all right.

Then Taric began talking of the disaster on the rooftop a year ago, and Atash tensed within his armour, his already-frayed temper flaring anew despite his efforts to keep himself calm.

"I 'withdrew' to the Storm Raven because I know of these warp beasts," he replied, his voice low and tightly controlled, but edged with icy anger. "I know how hard they are to kill, or even wound, and I wanted the biggest damn guns we had on hand to give us the best chance of actually getting through its defences and hurting it, or at least driving it back. Attempting to counter its sorcery was not my priority - especially since I know that I am not strong enough yet, not against a creature like that." He let out a bitter huff. "Which was very aptly proven when I succumbed to its mental predations. Yes, I came back eventually - but it was very nearly too late, and had I been on the ground with you when my strength failed, I would have been nothing but a liability."

He shook his head sharply. "As for the beast on the rooftop - the only reason I succeeded in nullifying it then is because I threw everything I had into a desperate, last-ditch attempt without even knowing exactly what I was doing, and the creature, in its arrogance, had not been expecting me to even try. Until that point, it had been toying with us, secure in its own superiority - then it stopped toying with us, and--" He hesitated briefly, indistinct memories of pain and darkness flashing across his mind, but he drove them back and continued. "Well, you saw what happened next."

Atash paused and glanced over at Taric. "Or was that blocked from your mind as well?"

Whatever Taric was going to say in reply was lost in the sudden and cacophonous roar when every single weapon with sight or range to the cave mouths opened fire at once.

Apparently the enemy had presented itself a bit too clearly.

Autocannon rounds, mortar shells, rockets, lascannon, and plasma bolts. They arced, streaked, and flew with precision. Hammering the ground with a cannonade tempesto.

Behind the defensive lines it was raining shell-casings through the mist of coolant vapor. Banner Master Scarab stood with a slighty stunned look on his face, he was only meters from the gunnery emplacements.

"I like that!" he exclaimed as the last shots sounded off, and an autocannon case bounced off his pauldron unnoticed.

The sudden, deafening firestorm that erupted from the guns and weapons of the human warriors caught Durance by surprise. His helmet senses told him that they were concentrating their fire on one of the tunnel entrances beneath them but he could not be sure how effective their firepower had been. It certainly sounded effective.

Durance glanced to his side as Brother Atash rested a hand on Taric's shoulder. They were discussing something privately and Durance did not feel the need to intrude. Instead he began threading his way between the trenches and firing lines and inspected the emplacements that had been established. Rainer and Atash had coordinated their talents well with the aid of the Guardsmen. He nodded silently at the faces that he passed as they held their guns close, letting the barrels cool after the fierce fusillade.

If the enemy attacked in great force, the mortals would have to hold the line. The Astartes would do what they could but it would fall on the men and women of the Imperial Guard to fight against the hordes of the traitors. Packleader Lance would command the mortals well. Durance was sure of that fact.

Memories of being the target of a similar gun-line made Atash instinctively hunker down a little further as the fusillade of gunfire erupted all around him. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the target area though, and his mental senses stretched out once again. He could feel a psychic shield being hastily erected - and bursting like a bubble - over and over again, as the ordnance rained down and the target tried desperately to protect himself. Atash managed to catch a glimpse of the enemy through the clouds of dust and smoke and fire - and it looked like the armoured figure was involuntarily airborne for a moment before dropping back down to disappear again amongst the haze.

"Ooh, he felt that," Atash commented with grim glee over the Squad channel as the firepower slackened off. "Still alive, but definitely unhappy. His psychic shields were dropping as fast as he could put them up - and I believe I saw him bouncing."

"I recall exactly what happened next! But also it was wiped, the beast, it stole-" was as far as Taric got before the guardsmen's overwhelming firepower muted his words.

Adrenaline suddenly pumping, Tarics mind flipped into combat mode in an instant, reflexively firing off bolt rounds and anything that moved. In those First few moments, Taric processed what was happening.

Reflexive fire? No, command given. Lasgun fired first. Twitchy fingers? Possible, unlikely. Clear Target? Partial Pauldron confirmed, shattered. Why? Distraction? Plausible.

Taric switched to the Squad vox net. "Lord Taarn. Sweeping for Infiltrators. This is too easy. Out." With a mental pulse Taric activated the Stummer hardwired to his Mk6 Warplate, and ghosted back into the camp.

Taric's search of the camp came to an abrubt halt as Sister Halios, Celestine Veteran from the Order of The Jade Rose stepped out from the cargo bay of Lord Taarn's Storm Raven and placed herself directly in his path.

Although garbed in the black and green power armor of her order, and despite her well muscled frame, she was still dwarfed by the powerful Blood Raven. Never-the-less, she stood with an air of unbending authority. In her right hand she held the icon of the Ordo Hereticus, in her left a large, weighty tome, bound in silver chain and covered in sigils of warding and protection.

"Hold Blood Raven". She did not bother to speak the words aloud, but mimed them, so Taric could understand her through the stummer's field.
"I bring you knowledge." She enunciated, like a stage-player. "I bring you death... to those that are undying."

She held the tome before her, the fire of zeal mixed with a deep dread in her eyes.

The sweep of the perimeter was swift, Lance had kept an even spread around the plateau, spacing the Snipers of the Rattling unit to maximize the use of their keen perceptions. As the bombardment continued, Taric relied on swiftness and speed to mask his own presence, the stummer rendering him completely silent in the cacophony. 

Seeing all the stationed guards were all alive, if a little surprised at the Blood Raven materializing out of the spreading fyceline fog, Taric continued into the encampment, seeking to secure priority targets. 

He was Confidant that no one was getting by the guardsman without a fight, and as the Cannonade died down any opportunity of doing so stealthily slipped past. 

But something still did not sit right with Taric. He did not know what they were fighting, what that creature was two day's ago, with its legion of warpish kin. Not knowing was driving him insane. It was causing the birds to torment him. 

Taric's attention was drawn to the Sororitas as she disembarked the Storm Raven. He had expected her to be on the front line with the Guardsmen, so whatever purpose she was about had to be dire. 

He came to a halt as she Bid, reflexively making the sign of the Aquila, or a close approximation winged by the pistols he was wielding. He deactivated the stummer, the slight pop of sound returning joined by feeds of com's data, squad tactical feeds, and auto-scanners re-connecting to the Vox-net. 

At the mention of Knowledge, a part of Taric his Chapter had ingrained in him during training hungered. He swiftly mastered himself, as Sister Helios eluded to something he did not yet understand. A fact that caused his lust for secret knowledge to burn brighter. But it was the look in her eye's that he fixated on the most. He knew that look, but he could not recall from where. 

Taric tore his gaze to the tome, clearly ancient, and crafted of materials rare and exotic even to The book wise Blood Raven. There was power in that Tomb, knowledge of monumental weight. 

Taric knelt, Swiftly mag-locking his pistols to his side, Before removing his Helm. 

"Knowledge is Power..." He began, Grasping the Tome, his eye's reflecting the same Zeal that shone in the sisters, But in place of dread there was only Faith.

"Guard your zeal, Blood Raven." Her tone was harsh, jolting. She did not yet release her grip of the tome.
"This is no trivial thing you seek, no mere book you hold." The dread in her eyes diminished as the fire built.
"I have been commanded to share this knowledge with you. By Masters of yours and mine. But I do not do this lightly, or even willingly." She shifted her stance to regard him.
"This tome, it's pages. It may condemn you. It may doom you." She held up her hand. "Don't tell me of your purity and pios soul, I know what can happen to those with this sort of knowledge." She lowered her tone. "And your Chapter has already greatly suffered for it. As have others, as will more yet."

She gently let the tome slide from her grasp, and leveled a finger at it. Almost as a weapon.

"You are now the charge of this. You are responsible for it, and for the consequences it brings. You must neither share nor seek counsel of these writings without consent of mine or Chaplain Kathay. If you share these dread pages with another Astartes, they shall be quarantined and re-purposed. If you speak of this to a guardsman, their platoon shall be cleansed. Death and destruction will follow in the wake of foolish lips."

She stepped in close to him now. Her words almost a whisper.

"If you succumb to this tome, if you loose your way in some dark corridor of thought, by order of the Ordo Hereticus, and with the understanding of your own Chapter Master, agents of the Inquisition will hunt you down."
She looked almost regretful. Sad even.
"And you will die a heretic and a traitor, Brother Astartes of the Blood Ravens."

It was with these words and that look, Taric knew for certain she had spoken this warning before, and been forced to carry through with them.

The tome was suddenly somehow heavier than when he first held it.

Taric knelt in humbles silence as the Sister spoke. There were many among this sectors leader's in whom Taric considered his own heart, mind, and sense of honor to be the greater guide. There were few tho's purpose and mind aligned with pure clarity to the Blood Ravens. 

There were two exceptions. Two beings in which Taric put his aspirations. One was his Scout Master Cyrus, who he could never surpass in his own eyes. The other stood before him. 

With conscious effort, Taric Tarsonus quelled his pride, his zeal, and beneath them both, his Knowledge lust. 

When he looked back into this sisters eyes, only He remained, Not the Blood Raven, or the squad leader or the Righteous Warrior. 

"I understand Sister. I have seen what I could become. I have studied it my Entire life. I have fought, and lost, taken captive to those that suffered to our chapters curse. Succumbing to secrets in the Dark, It has been my life's work to discover what causes Loyal Astartes' to Turn. You tell me it lay in my hands."

Taric absently reached down, and buckled the book beside his Chapter Scrolls. "If i fall, The Inquisition will not even need get close. Captain Cyrus will kill me before they can, and deliver the corpse." Taric's tone left it clear he spoke from experience. 

Taric stood, towering again over the sister in body alone. "Before i open this Tome, Help prepare my mind, and guard my soul. What will i learn?"

She was silent for a moment.

"More than I can help you with. More than I can can shield you from."

She glared at the book, she personally hated that thing.

"You shall learn of Daemons."

And with that she left him, moving to the front line.

Sccician, Fidian, and the rest of the assembled Void Ragers watched the sudden display of Imperial firepower with a mix of appreciation and concern. There was some laughter, even a cheer when the armored form of Miriatas was briefly seen to be airborne, thrown around like a deranged marionette.

"Well." snarled Fidian. "That answers that." He hefted his axe and started moving toward his pride and joy; a captured Imperial Rhino transport, formally owned by the Imperial Fist Astartes Chapter.

"That answers what?" Asked Sccician, the sorcerer was confused.

"That." The champion answered. "Not going anywhere near that until we get some bigger guns and rally those fool cultists. I'm sending my warriors into the teeth of a Guardsman position."

Sccician rubbed his left temple, the flesh-change was starting to ache again."But they're just mortals Fid. Nothing more than that."

"That's the point." Fidian countered, coaxing the side door open. "They're scared, they're vulnerable, and they know it. That idiot Miritias has shown his hand and now the dogs know what they face. Guardsmen get twitchy when they're scared, and panic fire can be surprisingly effective."

The Rhino's door finally released and Fidian pointed a jagged finger back at the smokey plateau.
"And THAT sort of panic fire is deadly. That is not just a small group of stranded mortals. That's a dug in, heavily manned position full of mortars and our loyalist Bretheran."
He held up two fingers "They have two Ravens for air support..."
Then one finger "...pretty sure I saw a dreadnought in the mix..."
Then he presented his middle finger "...so naff that."

Sccician stood on the rocky rise, watching the plateau as Fidian and his cohort drove back to their stronghold.
"Fair point." he conceded.

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Sister Halios sat upon a large flat rock roughly central to Imperial camp. All around her guardsman were on watch, or sleeping, or chatting quietly. The Astartes she had found herself allied with were doing similar. The Brothers Wardog were in a cluster to the front, nearest the land bridge. They overlooked the cave mouths and were in a discussion about... jump range?

Brother Rainer was overseeing modifications to the weaponry and coolant systems on the Sentinels, Brother Nikkos was in deep discussion with Lord Taarn regarding a large dark cigar. The apothecary was holding the narcotic and talking at length about... medical matters she believed.

Brother Scarab and Vortali were reviewing personnel files and geographic maps in the back of the nearest Storm Raven, looking into potential
recruits apparently. And something about proving grounds.

But her main attention was on her two... charges? Yes well, Brothers Taric and Atash. Taric was visible in his squad's transport. Pouring over the restricted texts on the Great Enemy. She had insisted that he remain in an accessible location, just in case. But he looked suitable disturbed by what he read, so Sister Halios was content with his progress thus far.

Atash on the other hand was re-re-reviewing the eastern wall again. Just as he had the western wall. She knew that he knew she was watching him. And she made a point of not looking away when his helmed visage did turn in her direction.

She waited, and she would continue to wait. She was not going to initiate this conversation. She knew that was not going to work this time.
The Wytch would have to come to the Wytchhunter.

After the impressive bombardment from the Imperial camp, there had been no further enemy movement sighted. Eventually, the alertness level of the camp lowered and the majority of the Guard stood down again, though those still on watch remained vigilant.

Once he was sure that there was no longer an immediate threat, Atash resumed his work on the barricades surrounding the camp, reinforcing sections that he wasn't satisfied with and making whatever improvements he could think of. He had passed through the camp a time or two as he moved between the eastern and western sections, and had caught sight of Taric in the back of the Storm Raven, reading from some grand tome. As curious as Atash was, something about the tome made him feel highly uneasy and reluctant to approach. So he left Taric undisturbed, and resolved to ask his battle-brother about it sometime later. Preferably when the tome in question was nowhere nearby.

Atash had also noticed the Sister sitting on her rock in the middle of the camp, observing all that was going on around her. At first he had paid her little mind, apart from a polite nod in passing. But as he continued his work on the eastern barricades, he couldn't help but notice how closely she was watching him. Every time he glanced in that direction, she met his eyes, even behind his helmet as they were. It was beginning to make his shoulder blades itch.

Finally Atash was satisfied with his work on the eastern wall - at least for the moment - and he decided to take a quick break before he checked over the western wall again. He maglocked his helmet to his belt and stopped by one of the Guardsman medic tents, politely requesting a saline pack from the young medic he found there.

Saline pack in hand, he began sipping from it as he moved through the camp. He gave the Storm Raven that Taric was in a wide berth, and eventually reached the rock where Sister Halios was sitting. Atash halted beside her, meeting her gaze and returning it with a polite nod. "Sister Halios," he started respectfully. "I... have a concern that Brother Taric recommended I consult you about, if you are willing...?"

Durance didn't like their current situation. The Imperial Guard forces had strengthened their position on this mesa with a vast array of heavy weapons and ordnance. The land bridge that rose from the flat plains below had so many guns aimed in its general direction that not even a rat could sneak through without getting shot. By all counts, the Imperial forces on Kiln were in the strongest possible position. Still, sitting and waiting for the enemy was not something to which Durance was accustomed.

The enemy had shown their faces and been pulverised with the sheer weight of fire. That didn't change the fact that the enemy had trapped them on top of an inescapable location. Two Stormraven assault craft would not be enough to extricate the mortals from this situation. It was fight or die. So why are we waiting for our enemy to make the first move?

Brother Alexandros was unconcerned about the situation. The Great Sleep seemed to have cooled his anger but even he agreed that he was tired of waiting. Durance wanted to lead an assault to chase the worms out of the burrows underneath them and into the firing line of the mortals. Alexandros said that such an idea was foolish and that Lord Taarn would personally smack some sense into him if he did something like that. Durance's frustration continued to simmer as he waited for something to happen, constantly watching the cliffs below for the first sign of the enemy. If he had to wait, he wouldn't be caught unprepared.

Lance strolled back up to his brothers after being called away by Banner Master Scarab.
"Well Brothers, we have an answer" He growled. His normally laconic expression replaced by a frown of frustration. Even he was getting impatient, but for other reasons.

"The reason we are stuck on this parched pimple of a rock is because the Packmaster has the Navy vessels doing a full, deep scan of the planet from orbit."Lance handed the dataslate to Haket.

"Turns out our Master grows weary of ambushes and being on the back foot." He stood by the wall fussed with his stalker's sights.

"So Lord Taarn has done a very war-doggish thing and is looking for the most enticing targets to strike. And I quote; If my warriors are to commit to this war, then we will strike at the most strategically crucial locations. We are Astartes. We will not be wasted fighting the minions, we shall hunt their masters."

Lance stared off into the distance for a while. Watching the birds.
"I won't be joining you in this hunt it appears. I am to be given command of the Guardsmen here now, and the rest of the 10th Company when it arrives." He unlocked his helmet and donned it.
"Whether this be penance for my previous fumbling, or due to my report with the mortals" he waved back at the weary soldiers. "I will do my duty regardless and without falter."

Packleader Lance clapped both his Brothers on their paldrons.
"As I am certain so shall you."

Lance then left them and went back to talk with the Commissar and check on the wounded guardsmen, his tattered camo cloak fluttering in the baking hot breeze.

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Sister Halios regarded the politely spoken Astartes with a evaluating stare. Finally she answered.
"Very well Atartes-Brother-Atash-of-the-Shadowed-Sons. I am willing to serve as consult to you."

She stood with grace and donned her helmet, face-plate slid open. She settled her sword and pistol into place and replaced her inquisitorial badge with an ornate ecclesiastical icon. She smirked at it, some personal humor attached to this action.

"Walk me to the western wall, let us patrol and talk of matters."

Atash met the Sister's penetrating gaze unflinchingly, his expression remaining politely neutral even though her stare made the back of his neck crawl. As she rose to her feet, Atash took a step back to give her more room, watching with interest as she replaced the Inquisitorial badge with the Ecclesiastical icon. He still wasn't entirely familiar with what either symbol represented, and made a mental note to try and find out more information later.

At Sister Halios' request, Atash bowed slightly. "Of course. I thank you for your assistance." He waited for her to fall in beside him, then began towards the western wall, suitably lessening the length of his own stride so the shorter Sister could comfortably keep up.

He remained silent, however, until they had reached the barricades and were out of easy earshot of the Guard. Atash paused for a moment to scan the landscape, then looked back at Sister Halios. "Brother Taric informs me that you are an experienced witch-hunter," he started carefully. "How much of that has also involved dealing with the denizens of the Warp?"

"For the glory of the Pack, Packleader Lance. That is excellent news!" Durance quickly perused the dataslate and it had appeared that the Imperial Navy scanners had been very thorough. The central plain of this continent was filled with red dots indicating clusters of enemies and traitors. The large green dot indicated the presence of the Imperial Army position on the mesa and it was surrounded by a tide of red. Durance returned the dataslate to Lance before eagerly making the warrior's salute, a clenched fist over his heart with his arm perpendicular to his body. "The Packmaster shall choose our targets well. We'll try and save the Imperial soldiers the stress of dealing with the treacherous leaders. Fight well and lead well, Packleader." Durance saw Packleader Lance turn around and return to his duties with the mortals while Durance began to prepare his equipment. If Banner Master Scarab had told him of his true purpose, Lance went not only to save the lives of the human warriors but also save the lives of the first new recruits of the War Dogs. Packleader Lance still served the War Dogs in his actions and Durance would be sure to thank him after this was all over.

Packmaster Taarn would call on him and Brother Alexandros soon, he was sure of it. Durance checked his weapons and ensured that the teeth on Warden were well-oiled and ready to taste blood. His arm twinged with pain as he went through his battle preparations and Durance winced as he remembered that his broken bones had not fully healed. That could prove to be a hindrance in battle. Durance bade momentary farewell to his Chapter Brother and began to seek out the Apothecary, Nikkos. The combat alert from earlier in the day had hindered his healing and the ensuing scramble for battle had not allowed Durance any time to fully tend to his wound. Only the skills of the Apothecary could heal this injury in time for the deployment. Durance made his way towards the medicae tents and equipment, hoping to find Nikkos sooner rather than later.

Sister Halios smiled. A thin, taught smile.

"Denzians?" She echoed. "They're called Daemons, Brother Atash. Best get used to the term." She shifted her weight, resting on her sword side leg.
"As for dealings, yes. I've faced them." she rested her hand on the pommel of her gilded blade. "And I've killed them."
She drummed her fingers. "Well, sent them back to exact. The minions of the great enemy are multitude and immortal, but thankfully not invulnerable." she paused "We kill them here in our reality, and send them back to their space."
She glanced behind them, making sure their conversation was not overheard.
"The majority of these encounters have been because humans have drawn upon, or made pacts with, the powers of the warp and have unleashed these daemons. Either upon the world, or within themselves. Sometimes both."

Halios looked up at the imposing frame of the Shadowed Sons warrior.

"Now that I've covered the absolute basics... was there anything in particular you wished to discuss about them?"

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Apothecary Nikkos had finished his report to Lord Taarn. While a difficult topic, it was not an impossible task.
Thankfully the Venerable Master was open to at least the concept of change management, and once he was assured that there were no medicae related ramifications, and no threat to the gene-seed development or its stability he had approved of testing.

Nikkos shook his head. Lord Taarn may have been asleep for generations, but his mind was sharp as any the apothecary had known. The depth of insight and clarity of questions. The uncanny vision of his chapters future and how everything could be made to better it. Surely this was the place Nikkos wished to serve, at the re-birth of legend. The Knights Tempest veteran paused, weighing his options.
Yes, he would apply for tenure. He would spend his years in the shadow of Lord Taarn and watch history unfold.

Nikkos looked up and saw Brother Haket approaching, his stride a mix of confidence and pain. His left arm was damaged by the look of things. Nikkos glanced back down at the Sothis Black Leaf cigar in his hand, and dropped it into a pouch.

Now this conversation was going to be interesting.

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"So... what are they doing now?" Gimmak wheezed through his gas mask. He sounded bored. He was bored. Bored of the sand, bored of the sun, bored of being awake at all.
"Nothing. Still." replied Moin. Putting down the magnoculars and rubbing his eyes.

The two cultists were garbed in an outlandish mix of colorful clothes, looking like a cross between jesters of old and desert militia. Moin pulled his bandanna back up over his nose and tugged the cowel of his deep purple jacket down.

"They're just building up defenses. They're turning that plateau into a firebase." Moin wriggled a little further down.
"The Astartes are doing a lot of talking. Lots of prep I assume." He looked back at his fellow scout. "And they have a woman with them. She looks important."

The reflection on Gimmaks goggles shifted as he tilted his head in thought. "Black armor, looks real ornate? She has a short cut, probably white?" he mimed the hair style with a clawed hand.

"Yeah! That's it! Pretty too." Moin took up the magnocs again for another look.

Gimmak rolled back and swore at the sky for a bit. "Not good. The blasted corpse hounds are being clever. They've set up a base, they're not sending out scouts or risking anything, they've brought a bloody Sister Militant with them..."

"They're setting up a long-coms unit..." Moin interrupted.

Gimmak paused. "Orbital or better?"

"Better" Moin replied.

Gimmak rolled to his feet and gathered his gear. "C'mon, that means they're expecting company. And soon. Time to bail out and report" Moin followed quickly as they scrambled down the rocky slope and disappeared into the dusty ravines.

A brief flash of something - irritation, wounded pride? - flickered across Atash's face, but he refrained from retorting that he was perfectly aware of the term 'daemon'. Instead, he just politely listened as Sister Halios described her experiences.

Once she had finished and asked her own question in reply, Atash remained silent for a brief moment, glancing around them again as he considered how best to word what he wanted to ask. "Just one thing, for now," he started finally. "I -- and my squad -- have had a... previous experience with a daemon, one of significant strength and power. Stronger even than the one we faced here. We were fortunate enough to come out of that incident intact." He paused for a beat, absently rolling his left shoulder. "Mostly intact."

He shook his head and continued. "My concern, however, is how that may or may not relate to this latest encounter here on Kiln. I checked the dates, and it was exactly a standard Terran year between this encounter and our previous one. I am not yet knowledgeable enough about the finer details of daemons to know whether this may be significant, or if it is merely coincidence, but... the timing concerns me. I was hoping, perhaps, that you would have more insight."

Taric exited the confines of the Storm Raven into the brilliant light of Kiln. He felt the way it seemed to burn his eyes may have less to do with the shadowed confines of the Gunship than he would like, and took it as an affirmation that he should take a break from the Grimore.

He had done little more than memorize the Index and Appendices so far, and even that had been a revelation. Paradoxes suddenly made absolute sense, and context had been added to a hundred mysteries.

None of it had left the Astartes in a particularly ambivalent mood, so he wandered past Rainers's workshop. The Tech-marine had used some spare and damaged machine parts to rig up some rudimentary training dummies. Well, rudimentary was the tern the Tech-marine used. They could stand up to Astarte's Punishment and the armatures would swing back with equal force when struck.

Taric fetched his refurbished Axe, the chains had been damaged when he struck the Daemons force field three day's ago. After showing his appreciation to the Tech-marine for his work, Taric set about testing the new dummies, at least until any of his other brothers were available for proper sparring.