>>5726794

Despite the loss of life inflicted by the beast, whom devoured entire blocks to add to its own mass, you were able to, with the assistance of the Shuni mystic, his disciples of the fire school of the nameless and the spirit of Tragic Xueqin, the pyromancer who sought death in the cold after his gift burned his village to ash but found greater purpose amongst the Wanderers in the Fog, and whom had burned away all he was except the memory of his warmth against the endless hordes of cloned, berserk thralls of the Butcher king, subjugate the great chaos spawn by way of reducing it and everything around it into bubbling glass and stinking ash.

While Xueqin's spirit departed, dragging the soul entombed within the flesh of the chaos spawn into the hellish realm from whence she was gifted her dark and accursed powers, the other heads of your nameless organization reported back to you.

And you were meeting with one of them now. A sniper of Shuomi decent from distant and hollowed terra. As her assignment was more treacherous than the duties allotted to the three other heads of the schools of the nameless, excepting perhaps Luo Zedong. She knelt before you, submitting herself to your stare as you searched her for any sign of chaotic corruption and probed her mind, for her target was not a hive of mutants, a mob of possessed rioters, a flesh absorbing chaos spawn or the terrible beast the head of the earth school was wounded battling. Her quarry was a shape changer, a demonic harlot who could steal faces. You had been suspicious of whom had emerged victorious in their game of cat and mouse from the moment she reported her success via a psyker's wind whispering, concerns that deepened when she reported she disposed of the shapechanger with a commandeered furnace

But your fears were for naught, without a doubt, she remains herself and the sniper had indeed outwitted the "blessed" adherent of Sie Nie, she who thirsts.

"Rise" You bid her with a gentle, knowing smile, showing to her that she has nothing to fear now that your inspection of her is done "And gather your students, Luo Zedong and you shall lead the containment of containing the subterranean mutant den your counterpart within the water school has flooded. This responsibility I entrust to both of you, to ensure not one of those misbegotten souls escapes the tomb that Witch of the Zoroast has made for them. Pray for their souls, for amongst their number were those unfortunate to attract the attention of the Ever warring siblings without meaning to, but if any rise from the waters, purge them for even if they were once virtuous, innocent and unaligned in this war, they had been brought under the great and loathsome shadows of our enemy. The corruption that has infused their flesh cannot be allowed to spread and infest others. Their sorry fate shall not be shared"
Cont

>>5726796

"Understood" They both speak, cupping their fists and bowing deeply, before The woman from terra, one of the few Nameless not born upon Shangrala asks "Any additional orders, SIR!"

"Deliver to the water head my orders for her and her school to reinforce the metal school in their efforts to contain the mass possession surging forth from the bloodpits, and if she encounters any elements of the earth school to take command of them to assist in the subjugation. It is unfortunate their head had to retreat from the city, but his wounds are too dire for me to even consider sending him to fight" You command, lashing out your arm as you bark your orders, the Guards and high rider soldiers who have thrown their lot in with you to survive this night of silent horrors looking on in bafflement as you rely them "I shall speak to the beggars with the wind, and have them evacuate any civilian unfortunate enough to be within the radius of that mob's advance"

"And what, pray tell, shall the great hunter and avatar of the golden sea overlooked by the silver moon seek in this most accursed of nights?" Luo Zedong asks calmly as your eyes turn towards the horizon and the maelstrom of black winds oozing out of the warp, focused on the districts of the city where the high riders sat their palaces

"Eradicating the source of the storm of black winds and blacker sins" You answer with a nod, thankful none of the native men surrounding you, resting from their terrifying encounter with the chaos spawn can understand what you are saying as none of them speak Long-Jianese. You'll have to have them collected and questioned, for while their actions this night were noble, they are not members of the namless, who have proven their resistance and hatred of the dark powers, and thus must be watched for any sign of lingering taint or madness.

But that can be done after the evil spirits and their minions have been chased away from the future site of Angron's great triumph. So you leave, clambering up the side of a building and flying across roof tops in search of the source of that rising darkness. It does not take you long to find it.

It would seem the slaves of Hei'an Fu, also as Hashut, have decided now is the day to summon one of the misbegotten spawn of that bull headed coward into a vessel of steel and fire. A vessel that is the Archeotech of House Thal'Kr and their closest subordinates. Luckily, members of the nameless have been keeping an eye on their ritual from a distance ever since it came to their attention.

The issue is, they are practicing the ritual in the heart of the Thal'kr's palace, in its bowels and roots. A most dire and irritating complication. They are your brother's enemy, though all tyrants are your enemy, they are his to kill and avenge himself upon

Sighing heavily through your nose, you cross you arms and ponder what is to be done.

Cont

>>5726799

What is your plan of action, Lieren?

>Use the psykerist technique "The Dragon sheds its scales to walk amongst snakes", to borrow the face of a High rider, and simply walk into their palace and interrupt the ritual

>realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths

>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis

>Do your best not to kill too many tyrants and just force your way into the palaces and fight your way into the basement. This night is not one for subtlety

>Write in

>>5726802
>>realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths
>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis
I fear we may lose Angus if we do not stop the ritual. We must prevent his nailing by any way possible. Even if we must take the nails ourselves.

>>5726918
Angron is yet to be there, and we need to trust his skills and the ones of his men.The location in question of the ritual is also not medical in nature, but very much a vault of ancient technology and weaponry.
And the place is deep.

>>5726802
>Realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smith
>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis
>Write in
Send orders to nearby astartes and brothers of the panthers squads to capture and sabotage any machinery and structure that likely feeds energy to the palace. Whatever the He'ian smiths are doing they are still trying to corrupt something that is no doubt physical in nature and has requirements for function, this should slow them. I was thinking to attack any life support present in the vast palace too, but i fear innocents lives would be at risk (servants/slaves/kids), and this malignant smiths being part of the technicians caste means they likely have some level of cybernetics integrated in their bodies. Even if they are all green recruits of the caste.
Of course i expect the smiths to have some auxiliary energy power they can reroute, but is not the same to aid their ritual efforts.

>>5726967
>support

>>5726802
>Write in
We can't go into the palace for we will empower the ritual, we can't tell Angon nor take his vengeance. But there IS something we can do!

With the aid of the schools/nameless and anything we set up a great big ward network around the palace! We contain and purify the area within by surrounding it! Thus this spiritual net/wall will cut off the warp and daemons from their designs! Meanwhile our more normal forces can take out power and standardised warfare.

tldr; purifying circle around palace

>>5727010
>>5726802
Supporting operation Ring of Fire

>>5726802
>>realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths
>>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis
Hey Magnus, little help?

>>5726802
>realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths
>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis

>>5726802
>Have our men end the smiths
>Astrally project into the empyrean to mess up their summoning from the other side.

>>5726802

>realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths
>Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis

calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

realizing your brand will only make the ritual easier to complete, bid your Nameless to act as your rifle and task them with the duty of ending the threat posed by Hei'an Fu's smiths:7

Well you do not need to enter the palace. Astral project into the Empyrean and do battle with the evil spirits the cabal summon to fill their weapon's chassis:7

Send orders for the brothers of the panther and your gene-sons to move up to the city ahead of angron with orders of sabotaging and capturing the city's power supply: 2

operation Ring of Fire: 2

total votes: 9

So Lieren will bid the Nameless observing the ritual to act as his rifle and entrust them with the mission of ending the threat posed by the Smiths of Hashut

While he astral projects into the warp to fight the evil spirits they bid to enter their warped weapons chassis

Writing now

It would be ill advised and a grand folly no doubt to enter the palace personally, as the damnable brand atop your brow would further thin the already battered barrier between this world and the realm of spirits and allow the cultists to more easily complete their dark rites and summon into this reality a demon bound in flesh of iron and blood of oil. That cannot be allowed. The Daemon engines you faced in the butcher's war were dangerous even without being wrought out of technology and weapons better left to the grim days of eras past. So by your hand the ritual cannot be ended, for your presence would worsen an already terrible situation into an outright catastrophe of which the scars it leaves behind upon this world and its denizens would not be easily healed.

However, that does not mean you are helpless. Standing around you are the men and women who have given themselves to serve as a spear and rifle against the dark forces gathering against all mankind. The Nameless. They are not shackled by the curse of the great powers of chaos as you are, and while they are not blessed with your inherently superhuman physique and there fighting skills and martial arts are not yet as honed as your own, they can serve as a suitable substitute and intermediary on your behalf. They may not be equal to the great hunter, but they are all hunters of that which dwells in hell. They shall serve as your proxy in this most fateful of battles, and it shall be their hands that strangle the life out of this cult of greed, fire and shadow. An evil spirit possessing a body of Archeotech horrors is a nightmare that cannot be allowed to be birthed beneath the blazing skies of Nuceria, or any world for that matter.

Making up your mind, you lash out your arm.

"My disciples, my students, you shall be my rifle and my spear. Tonight you will be the unseen shield guarding your fellow man. Though your deeds will be great and your sacrifice noble beyond reproach, none but ourselves shall know of the stand you took this night or the battle you fought" You somberly and reverently say outload as your eyes focus on the eye of the storm of black winds that they alone can see to be disgusted by and bear witnessed to that most wretched afront to all that is good and pure in life "But it is better that way. Let our memories alone become the reliquary of nightmares, let us alone be burdened with the grim knowledge of what lurks beyond the sanity of the mundane world. It is our privledge and pleasure to stand in the darkness, warding away the hollowing night, so others may continue their days beneath the shining sun and soothing mists blissfully unaware of the horrors that are born from their own hearts"

"You would entrust us with a role so vital? We are but men, this war is fought on the scale of giants" One of them, dressed in a pale cream hood muses, his faced scarred with caustic burns and eyes glowing in the night, revealing subtly his cybernetic augmentations
Cont

>>5728910

"I am nothing more than a man myself, a great man, but a man none the less. You are all my equals, for you have stood by my side against an enemy so vile and terrible that simply knowing of it can drive lesser men to despair. This stage is yours to stand upon as well, with spotlights or an audience, none shall see your performance or know that you fought" You continue on, the respect you feel for these brave souls overwhelming the sorrow of being unable to join them in their battle against the cultists of the forge and industry "But know if upon that stage you give everything and perform the final act of charity, that of self sacrifice, that I shall remember your names until the day I to must join you on the journey into the unknown beyond death"

Silence falls, except for one of them sniffling as they wipe tears from their eyes

"Understood" another of them, a veteran of the combat in the butcher's temple states solemnly "We shall do this. The heads of those spirit callers shall be lopped off, even if our own must fall from our shoulders. But I must ask..."

"Those who are unaligned with our quarry of the night, unaware of their wickedness and monstrous allegiances? Avoid killing them if you can, but if doing so jeopardizes the success of your mission, you know what must be done. Sometimes the undeserving must die" You answer, lowering your hand and sitting down on the rooftop, adopting a meditative position "I trust you all to know when a life can be spared and when it cannot be. Now go, and cross your blades with those acolytes of discord and spill their blackened blood and end their selfish dreams"

And without speaking another word, one by one, the Nameless vanish from view, making haste for the palace of the Thal'kr and their targets that hide within the shadows of their former masters. With a single tear in your eye, without speaking outloud, you wish them good fortune and success in this thankless task you ask of them. And then, you empty your mind and heart, draining at the multitude of colors and hues to return your thoughts and emotions to a featureless white. Breathing in deeply and breathing out ponderously, you prepare yourself to step into the astral realm. To enter into the Empyrean, to brazenly stride into the territory of your enemy.

For while you cannot fight their servants upon the physicals plane, you can do battle with the spirits themselves in their own world. In your mind's eye the world shifts, becoming a kaleidoscope of countless colors as you find yourself sitting atop a precariously leaning tower, crooked like a willow tree overburdened with leaves. All around it, skeletal figures hang, some human and others clearly belonging to devils and evils spirits.

A mournful wind moans across the valley of crystalline grasses and massive stone eyes before you. And ahead of you, you can see a living foundry.
Cont

>>5728912

Some great tortoise like spirit with the face like an Angra in pain, a large brass ring hanging from its nostrils and smokestacks on its back, filling the whole of the maddeningly beautiful realm with cloying black smoke as winged imps flit between the towers, dropping glowing orbs of light and squealing lesser spirits into the furnaces carved into its shell as drills, augers and massive clockwork picks tear into its flesh and bones.

And you can see, within the living factory, various daemonic entities, evil spirits battling, gambling, arguing, haggling and wrestling for dominance. For the privilege of entering into the flickering portal made of bones, flesh, gears and sputtering hoses spewing oil. But while these hellish sights and just viewing such abhorrent creatures enrages you, it is what you notice as the smoke clears that makes you for but a moment lose your composure and let out a howl of despair and murderous rage.

For, along the edges of the factory tortoises shell and within the furnaces, you can see spirits of Arianka, tortured, butchered and mortified. An ice carved soldier changed in the mouth of a furnace styled in the face of bloated toad thing, a maiden of frost and fire trapped in a cage like Na Gou keeps poor Isha. Ice crawls from beneath your feet, spreading down the hangman's tower as your howl turns and twists in the wind, becoming more like that of a wolf instead of a panther's roar.

And then a familiar presence enters your perception, sliding in from some other realm distant or near?

"Eh? Skald, Is that you?! You've taken to the wolf's own song now? Har! What a wrathful dirge you sing! A fitting backing for a warriors death chant, I say! Once more we meet in our travels, Lieren faireyes! And what good fortune that we do!" A ghost speaks to you, the ghost of Asbjorn Sverreson, the half bear spirit born of a warrior of a world called fenris, once in service to a king and his wolf child, the latter of which is perhaps one of your lost brothers named Leman russ "Have you come to free the sons and daughters from their shackles as well? Or have you simply grown weary in a world without my smiling face and come to sing to me the songs of my death...You've been singing my death saga, haven't you"

"The Name Asbjorn Sverrson is not forgotten, as I promised that day, I have told others of your bravery and spread the story of your death and second life" You say, rage quelled somewhat at the sight of his friendly face "Indeed, I've been meaning to commission a play to tell your tale in a more...digestible manner"

"Hmm, don't know what that is, but I am honored a skald of your verbosity and sweet honeyed words has taken it upon themselves to immortalize my memory so it does not fade come spring" He laughed, running his thumb along the length of his axe, eyes gleaming with a predatory malice as his bear hide cloak began to knit and fuse to his ethereal flesh
Cont

>>5728914

"Har! When the battle is ended, I have more tales of glory to share with you, faireyes! But first let us show these whore sons' the might of fenris and the wandering skald, aye, Wenyanson?"

"Let us howl together, and dance together this night, loud and ferocious enough for Leman himself to hear us beneath his distant star!" You declare, thumping your chest as you and the ghost of Asbjorn march fearlessly towards the daemonic factory of Hei'an fu

"Bah! The time for talking has ended! Now is the time of axes and swords!" Asbjorn roars, spit flecking and turning to ice on his teeth as they stretch and grow into flesh tearing, bone crushing fangs

"You speak my thoughts, loyal specter, now is no time for cordial conversation when our enemies are so near. Let us wet our blades with the curdled blood of devils" You snarl, flipping your hair as you reach to your side as if unsheathing a sword, as you presence as Asbjorn attracts the attention of the winged guards of the abused factory beast.

What do you do Lieren?

>Draw the sword of love out of thin air, and beside the ghost of the Fenrisian warrior, cut down a terrible tally of lesser evil spirits on your approach to the tortoise forge

>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

>Step atop the sword of love and ride it through the air as you leave the wingless beasts to Asbjorn while you deal with the winged ones, by punching their heads off and shattering their spines with well placed kicks.

>Use the "The water becomes the void as the Void becomes the water" exorcist technique to thin the swarm of imps and goblins, and to create a path for you and the ghost to charge through to reach the tortoise itself

>Write in

>>5728915
>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

>>5728915
>Draw the sword of love out of thin air, and beside the ghost of the Fenrisian warrior, cut down a terrible tally of lesser evil spirits on your approach to the tortoise forge

>>5728915
>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

I'm sure she would also like some revenge for her "peoples" death.

>>5728915
>>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework
Magnus pls

>>5728915
>>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework
A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON

>>5728915
>>Draw the sword of love out of thin air, and beside the ghost of the Fenrisian warrior, cut down a terrible tally of lesser evil spirits on your approach to the tortoise forge
>>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

>>5728915
>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

Spirit bros awaits.

>>5728915
>Draw the sword of love out of thin air, and beside the ghost of the Fenrisian warrior, cut down a terrible tally of lesser evil spirits on your approach to the tortoise forge
So I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should write books other than the Journey. Like one that focuses on describing the many Xenos we meet and learn of or manuals on how to train yourself. I’m worried the Journey might get bloated if we just put all of our wisdom into it and that the practical information will get lost between the pages, so to avoid that we should have the Journey focus more on Lieren’s Philosophy and have other books focus on practical skills and knowledge.
What do the rest of you think?

>>5728915
>Step on the sword of love

>>5729628
The journey is our philosophy and our world view.

We don't put martial arts or our practical shit into it anyway. I guess we could, but that'll need to wait for some downtime, we have a war to win.

>>5728915
>Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework

A NEW HAND FOR THE BEACON TO TOUCH! And also odds are it'll summon Dad or Mangus attention wherever the fuck they are to find our brother faster?

What if we attract the Nids?

>>5729742
I wonder if Emps knows about Arianka.

>>5729963
I doubt Lieren's powerful enough to grab their attention.

>>5729963
The Emperor didn't atttract them, It took the one Beacon being blown up during the HH to 'draw' their attention. So we'll be fine.

File: 1620924365920.png (77 KB, 853x626)

77 KB PNG

Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

Send up a beacon flare, calling more spiritual allies to the fight that's about to begin, by sending up a shard of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea, to explode like a festival firework:7

Draw the sword of love out of thin air, and beside the ghost of the Fenrisian warrior, cut down a terrible tally of lesser evil spirits on your approach to the tortoise forge:3

Step atop the sword of love and ride it through the air as you leave the wingless beasts to Asbjorn while you deal with the winged ones, by punching their heads off and shattering their spines with well placed kicks.:1

total votes: 10

So Lieren will send up a flare of Qi/ spirit stuff formed out of silver ice encased in the waters of the golden sea to call on more allied spirits to join the fight that's about to begin, turning it into a propah scrap

Writing now

>>5729088
kek

Asbjorn's battle cry is nearer to the hunting howls of a wild animal, but it is not entirely deprived of humanity. The all too familiar roar of the rage of man reverberates beneath the booming cadence of the bear within him. It is harsher and more imposing, tearing his throat and making hoarse his voice as he throws back his head as the pelts he wears fuse and become one with his skin and tattered armor. Raising up his shield as his hand become half a paw, he beats it with the flat of his well worn axe, strange runes glowing with silver light as you remain still, frozen in the drawing stance as you watch the flocks of devils and masses of evil spirits emerge from the pocket marks on the grand forge beast's abused shell. Surely, you and the ghost from Fenris could handle this paltry legion, made up of desperate furies and starved thoughtforms primarily. But their numbers are a concern and ever growing and your eyes shifting gold and silver can spot amongst their ranks stronger beasts and more powerful daemons as some enterprising sons of Hei'an Fu enter the fray, noticing instantly the prize at their doorstep. The one to claim your head would be well rewarded and praised by their progenitor and perhaps even one of his five rivals in the contemptible game they play with lives innocent and guilty alike.

Snorting through your nose as Asbjorn cries out in a tongue unfamiliar to your ears but you can easily guess he is abusing his lungs to roar out insults, curses and vulgarities to both enrage and entice your enemies to rush into the fray, to begin the fight so the dead man may once again feel the rush of battling upon the razors edge between life and death. If he is representative of every warrior of that icy realm, then the Vishnu tribes will have found their equals. Smirking at the thought, you tighten that hand that would've summoned the spiritual mirror of your redeemed blade and within its palm conjure a sliver of liquid moonlight so frigid and cold it feels as though it is pull away and tearing the flesh of your hand. A temperature so low could not exist in your hand in the material realm, but here in the land dreams and thought it is possible. Clenching your jaw, fighting through the pain of cold so cold it burns more agonizingly than boiling oil or super heated plasma, you encase your fist in the gilded flames of your spirit, dousing the icicle of purest will you have formed in the waters of the golden sea. In laughter, in hope, in comradery and in the bittersweet sorrow of standing at the precipice when an age of plenty and joy reaches its zenith and slowly rolls back and out of grasp.

Breathing out again, you throw up your fist, auroras of moonlight and blazing fire erupting from your fingers as sparks of black and white fly from out of your closed palm.

Cont

>>5730961

Opening your fist and with a second thrust, you send the beacon you've made rocketing up towards the boundless skies of the Empyrean. Asbjorn ceases his taunting and roaring to watch it as it soars, eyes widened with an almost child like innocence as he watched it scale higher and higher, sparks of all colors flaring from it as gouts and tongues of flare and shafts of moonlight shot from within it as it climbed further and further towards the unreachable heavens.

"Faireyes, what manner of sorcery is that?" Asbjorn asks, speaking from the side of his mouth as even the horde of villains and blackguards pauses to watch the spectacle you've created "Something similar to a hail of arrows? Or is it an illusion. I'll tell you now, I refuse to strike an unready opponent, even if they're inhuman monsters. Simply isn't sporting"

"Why should you and I hoard all of the glory of this battle of liberation to ourselves, Huscarl?" You coyly question, wagging a frost bitten finger playfully "We may both be warriors with few peers, but it is unbefitting of men of our talent and renown to be consumed by our pride in our abilities, as it would be for us to alone claim eminence for the heroic deeds of this night"

"A beacon of sorts?" He correctly surmises, catching on quickly "Fitting for a bard to have such a sense for dramatics, even in the moments leading to battle. I can respect such brazenness, skald. Far more flashy and eye catching than a simple smoke signal"

"Do they not have fireworks on Fenris?" You question, feeling somewhat sorry for Asbjorn's people to be denied beauty so common place across Long-Jia, to be denied the pure yet thrilling pleasure of watching the misty skies alight with colors and noise. Its almost astonishing just thinking of men who have never delighted in the most basic essential of any festival or celebration. Ah well, at least Asbjorn will see the bright blossoms of merry festivities with his own eyes now in his "Second life".

There is a sharp whistle heralding the familiar bang of a fire working going of, casting the smog clogged air and the desolate wastes with the glow of lively colors, which reflect of the crystal spires and cast the stone effigies in mysterious lights as signal flare erupts and expands into the image of an eight petaled lotus flower.

A familiar shape, a shaded figure dressed in chains glowing as if freshly pulled from the forge appears as the light of the firework dims. It is the wandering spirit of Xueqin, once again coming to your aid, though clearly worn from his battle with the sorcerous within the chaos spawn. Throwing out his burning hand, mimicking your habitual flicking of your sleeve and lashing of your arm, the ghost of your student in psykerism conjures up a dragon of flames as a loud hunting horn is sounded.
cont

>>5730962

And as the lesser spirits watch, stunned with confusion, a single shot rings out, and takes their vanguard's head off as a bullet of pure golden fire splits the skies and reduces their head to a smoking stump atop their shoulder.

Asbjorn needs no further encouragement, and belts out his war cry once more as the battle begins in earnest as the ghosts of dear friends rally to your side once more.

Wiping tears from beneath your eyes, you conjure a weapon out of a will alone. A find a hunting spear very much like the first one you shaped so long ago appear in your hands.

What do you do, Lieren?

>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general

>Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there

>Take the spear in hand, and pour into it all of your sorrow and grief and hurl it at the center of the army of evil spirits.

>Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the army you face, daring them to test their mettle against your spear. You've come here to deprive the cult of its idols and that is what you shall do, with ruthless efficiency.

>Write in

Some fitting music for this update
https://youtu.be/kvd5Mrjq3jc

>>5730963
>Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge

We can free the prisoners after

>>5730963
>>Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the army you face, daring them to test their mettle against your spear. You've come here to deprive the cult of its idols and that is what you shall do, with ruthless efficiency.

>>5730963
>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general
Free the people, hang the tyrants!

>>5730963
>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general

Our brother is the liberator on the physcial plane, We will be the liberator on the spiritual

>>5730963
>>Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the army you face, daring them to test their mettle against your spear. You've come here to deprive the cult of its idols and that is what you shall do, with ruthless efficiency.
If only Russ was here. He'd surely approve.

>>5730963
>Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there
Freedom

>>5730963
>>Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there

>>5730963
>Write in
Think back to the face and form we wore back then and fully embody it, the stag horned hunter. Hunt these deamons...

>Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the army you face, daring them to test their mettle against your spear. You've come here to deprive the cult of its idols and that is what you shall do, with ruthless efficiency
FREEDOM

.

He'll yes stag route is back!

>>5730963
changing my vote here >>5731173

>Supporting >>5731264

>>5730963
>>Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there

>>5730963
>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general

>>5731264
>Support

>>5731264
Support
>>5730963
Kurnous might

>>5730963
>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general

Spiritual Liberation for all.

>>5731894
Kurnous is dead and not coming back.

>>5730963
>Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general
Why is Kurnous suddenly being brought up, did I miss something?

>>5732082
You missed nothing.

>>5731913
Lies, fragments remain and in theory he's in silver hoes guts. Also dead and gone is a nebulous thing at best in warhammer

>>5732082
Read back further in the quest, he's come up several times as vote options or implications

>>5732171
I know that I'm saying that this >>5731264 makes no sense. Are people confusing unleashing the ogre for mantling Kurnous?

>>5732184
We mantled stag man once already I believe they are voting to do it again

>>5732170
>>5732171
More like you’re imagining it’s him.
Every damn Eldar god got killed (including the ones born in the future) except Isha and Cegorach with Khaine, Asuryan, and Ynnead in a weird limbo. So yes Kurnous is CANONICALLY dead regardless of how you look at it but the Exodites STILL worship him regardless. That is likely what you are actually thinking of.

>>5732222
We mantled Khaine. Point to exactly where we mantled Kurnous or I’m calling bullshit.

>>5732222
When was this? I remember we mantled an eldar god when we bullied Nurgle's son but I think it was Khaine or Ynnead and I suspect we could only do that at the time because Isha was there. We haven't mantled any gods since.

>>5732228
It was Khaine for sure. People were even talking about how it was when the Dark Eldar were attacking. Rather what he’s thinking of is that we were sort of reenacting a myth involving Kurnous but Kurnous was still notably absentee.

>>5732225
>>5732227
One thing I think might have been him was one of the options we had for a warp event, but we really never mantled Kurnous.

And here's the links

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5264486/#p5293005
>An antlered man, though you cannot see his face, he looks familiar. His form is clearly Aeldari in proportion

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5264486/#p5298140
Yes it is a winner only vote, but I'm going to keep Antler man a secret just in case. The outcome would've been EXCITING tm

It could have just been a worshiper, but then why would Malal said it would have been exciting?

And in the same update there was this mention of us kind of reenacting what happened.

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5264486/#p5298377
The mists that filled the forest took shape around the lantern light. At times, you marched behind a procession of aged monks, at times you pursued a young girl with roots and branches woven through her hair, at times you chased a fog panther with a lantern held in its mouth only to in the next moment follow the path laid by an imperious seeming woman of clearly noble birth. But then, then a great stag would take her place before fading into the fog, as you clambered up the side of a hill that was also the shell of a great tortoise, upon which two riders astride slithering eels jousted and paid you not attention, nor cared for the shrieking hag atop her tower of broken promises and failed ambitions. The bobbing lights and self setting road lead you further and deeper into the land of spirits, but your resolve did not wane and so stubbornly you continued on, trudging through a mire of lilac hued waters and froth that stank like Huli Jing's breath. The fog rolling by your step, pushed back the miasmic discharge of the swamp as you pursued the lights held by spectral antlers and the road hammered in place by spirit unseen and unheard

So who knows what Malal has planned? It could even be more complex then an echo of Kurnous surviving. Also I would like to mention that even though I'm defending his potential existence, I didn't vote to mantle him right now.

>>5732600
>It could have just been a worshiper, but then why would Malal said it would have been exciting?
Interacting with Exodites would have really cool though. Kurnous on the other hand has two problems: According to canon information he should be dead and saying he didn’t die would undermines how bad the fall of the Eldar Empire was as well as bring up the question of what the fuck was he doing (which I doubt could be answered in a satisfactory manner).
It just doesn’t make sense from a narrative perspective.

>>5732689
>Interacting with Exodites would have really cool though.
That's true, we already dealt with the craftworlders and the deldars, so we only need to see the clowns and the exodites to see all the flavors of space elfs.
But I have a feeling that we might never get around to that, we have a lot on our to do list, like we still hasn't finished unifying our planet, there might be other cultures we haven't met yet living near the dead sisters, there's still some unknown chaos gods that could oppose us, there might be some space skaven around and there's the whole ting of finding Navarro.
And that is if we don't try to save other brothers, like Lorgar.

>>5730963
Write In

Maiden-spirits and warrior souls alike are trapped and tortured; denied the peace of rest and the comfort of the afterlives and never-lives they sought or had! Through the connection the sons and daughters of Fenris hold, mantle your maybe-brother Leman Russ and assemble a Drott of spirit-warriors both stranger and familiar to sail over the ocean of neverborn and souls to the turtle-factory, and raid it for its captive spirits to set them free!

>>5730963
>>Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there

>>5731264
supporting!

>>5732689
Agree to disagree, remember how Canonicly squats didn't exist until they did again? Hows about how Malal and Hashut? When we battled in the tomb of forgotten things we were kicking open all sorts and more. Our QM has done stellar writing and could pull it off IMO.

Don't splash "well actyually canon" when canon is so far off the rails and 40k is full of so many intentionally placed voids and plot holes SO people can write and fill in what they will.

A single Crimson eye stared into the rolling tides of the Warp with the focus and clarity the most refined collector would envy, a shadow followed that sight; the claw of the Crimson king. The denizens of the Immaterium had once sought to try and manipulate the most potent of the Anathema's scions...now they fled from him as though he were a reaver upon their shores. Though they did so justly for the Cyclops in his search for understanding was no longer an innocent scholar delving into the unknown with open hands, now he moved through the wylds of emotion and thought with a curved blade and skinners knife, with rope and trap.

“Khalz'arakad” a voice as smooth as silk spoke into the warp as Daemon's fled the scarlet eye's gaze, a lone denizen of the Changer of Ways froze in it's tracks for it's true name had been spoken...it was forced to replay even as it tried to fold in on itself to escape the doom it could see coming in a thousand thousand different futures. It felt mortal things which did not belong here, it felt chains pulling themselves from the shadows will pitch black and cold, focused and indifferent to it's suffering.

The Daemon screamed it's fear and lament into the tides of Eternity...no help would come.

---

Within his sanctum Magnus stood still his eyes closed and right hand outreached forward while his left touched a concave mirror, slowly sigils began to appear across the surface and he felt his targets terror as his will bound it and then began pulling it from it's lair beyond the veil into the trap he had waiting for it.

The mirror soon had a new occupant, the Daemon looking at the primarch in horror as within this mirror it ffound itself a fish in a bowl pulled away from the ocean...cold, sterile and as it looked into the chamber it found itself within it behind countlesss others is different states of spiritual disection, forced conceptual metamorphosis?..pots of deamonic pieces, jars of prophesy, bottles of dreams.

Of all these things though there was but one instrament that promised pain, it promised undoing and utter oblivion. A blade which held no place in the material world yet also somehow sat attached to the giants belt; a scalpel.

Its hilt was golden intention,

it's metal was adamantium will,

it's edge was diamond clarity.

Khalz'arakad shivered as Magnus spoke a hand picking up a tome and then a quill.

Even in reality his voice was harrowing, “I will ask, you will answer. Do you understand?”

The Neverborn nodded nine times.

File: The Hand of Magnus.jpg (48 KB, 1024x1024)

48 KB JPG

>>5733369

>>5733360
That’s a stupid way of looking at it especially since Malal is using canon, old retconned canon. There was a time when 40k was WFB but in space and there was a time when the Emperor wasn’t a retarded stand in for someone else’s daddy issues. Saying “canon doesn’t matter” neglects fundamental aspects of fiction writing namely “consistency” which is why the Black Library are a bunch of hacks. Likewise you ignore how bringing back Eldar gods undermine the narrative in numerous ways that even the best writers would struggle with.

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the long wait.

Stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the army you face, daring them to test their mettle against your spear. You've come here to deprive the cult of its idols and that is what you shall do, with ruthless efficiency.:8

Join the fight alongside the spirits of the dead and lead them through the legion of Hei'an Fu's progeny, calling out to the enslaved spirits and their brethren in distant realms, announcing your arrival and presence on the battlefield like a proper Long-Jian general:5

Slip by unseen as the ghosts of brave men do battle and scale the tortoise factory and begin releasing the spirits trapped there:3

Embody the ideal hunter:5

Maiden-spirits and warrior souls alike are trapped and tortured; denied the peace of rest and the comfort of the afterlives and never-lives they sought or had! Through the connection the sons and daughters of Fenris hold, mantle your maybe-brother Leman Russ and assemble a Drott of spirit-warriors both stranger and familiar to sail over the ocean of neverborn and souls to the turtle-factory, and raid it for its captive spirits to set them free!:

total votes:17

so Lieren will stand firm atop the hill and issue a challenge to the strongest of the Daemonic horde, daring them to test their mettle against your spear.

Writing now

>>5733369
>>5733374
Oh this is just excellent, I really love the words you used to describe Magnus and the manner with which you did it, it really painted the scene vividly

", now he moved through the wylds of emotion and thought with a curved blade and skinners knife, with rope and trap."

and

".pots of deamonic pieces, jars of prophesy, bottles of dreams."

were especially good

also the hand with the eye in its palm looks really cool.

Forged of flexible but sturdy wood, the same sort that grew in the hearts of the trees of the forest that encircle Nothing, still green with life wrapped tight with leather rubbed smooth and supple by warm hands, dyed and darkened by blood, sweat and rain. Its head, wrought iron, reforged and pounded from a ruined sickle or hoe when looked at from one angle and made of sharpened, shining stone when viewed from another, the inner beauty of a river worn stone revealed through chipping and breaking apart. Yet when you viewed it directly down the center of its shaft it was simply a extension of it, a sharpened tip of wood. The three types of spears that were amongst the first you've made. The weapons you wielded after you cast aside the barbarity of fighting Panthers bare handed and with your teeth. Long before you began to practice your own styles of unarmed martial arts. Smiling fondly at the memory of the first tools you've ever held in your hands, you lift your eyes to see Asjborn fighting alongside the Bull headed ghost of Small Chen and while Bai, in the mien of a snow white tiger bounded forward, Xin upon his back with a bow in hand, piercing the hearts of wicked devils as more fallen brothers answer your hunting call.

Shots ring out. The familiar roar of the first rifles and revolvers you made, the rain like pattering of their automatic improvements, the snapping of las fire, the sizzling of plasma, the curious shrill whistle of Dark light, the foreboding hiss of the skinning light of the six fanged spear. Volleys of every type of ammunition used by the men of Shangrala and taken up by the brothers of panther and those who, while they never held official membership, were as dear to you as the brothers you found in Nothing. A war cry is hollered, and the whirlwind of dust and desert winds that was once called Michah dances across the sky, taking human form atop a serpentine beast you recognize from description as a Rattle with a revolving pistol in both hands, firing without pause or discretion . Then come the Vishnu chieftains, the fallen peers of Aruna and Akansha, the last great warlords of a dying people. Rudra, Manu, Kamakshi

You look away as Kamakshi's spirit flashes you a sad, forlorn smile, before she disappears into the fray alongside Red faced Wei, as Liang and Jiang in the form of the twin dragons joined at the tail flew across the sky, followed shortly by the specters of Rong and Zian as Xueqin and the soul of Old man Cai, trapped forever in his cackling skull, unleashed sorcerous artillery upon the winged and grounded forces of the hellish horde alike.

Despite their inhuman guises, you recognize each of your fallen brothers in arms, oath and affection. Tears flow freely down your cheeks, catching in the scar beneath your eye and dripping to wet your robes. Yet you are smiling. You are smiling to see them all well, to see them thriving, to see them in some semblance of life again even if it is only illusionary.
Cont

>>5734128

But what is life but another illusion? Another quickly fading dreaming. Breathing out slowly, forlornly, ponderously slow so as to savor the sight of your lost companions and friends, you feel the cool mists of Shangrala at your back as the white fogs of your homeland clash with the putrid smog of Hei'an Fu's selfish industry and exploitive greed. And they feel as much like family as all the fallen heroes and deceased warriors who have answered your call without hesitation.

Breathing in, you lift and jut out your chest and hold your head high as the mists around you take on vague forms. Ghosts woven out of fog, some appearing as farmers with sickles and hoes held tightly in hands, some as soldiers in formation marching beneath a tattered fur banner, and others...who marched from a distant would proudly to find their graves within the soil of their lost father's world.

But this is no time for grieving amongst memories carried by mist, to wail amongst the shadows cast by those who wherever they are or whatever they have become is now out of your reach. Lifting up your spear, turning it around so as to watch its head turn from sharpened wood, to well shaped stone to iron refined and purified into steel, you step forward so as to stand at the absolute peak of the hill top and slam the bottom of the spear's shaft into the ground. A ripple carries through it, lifting up ash like waves across a lake as the ground cracks open in fissures of claws, fangs and feline eyes.

"HEAR ME! SONS OF THE COWERING DARKNESS! SCIONS OF TYRANNY! AVATARS OF CRUEL GREED!" You bellow over the din of combat, whipping your head back and forth rapidly, undoing the pins and knots in your hair to allow it to fall freely and become like a whip itself, mimicking the movements of a stage actor to lash your iron hued locks back and forth like flame trailing from a torch as you adopt a challengers stance. One of the Fog Panther Styles, a low stance, with one leg held back only touching the ground by its toes and the other pressed firmly flat on the ground in front of you, a dynamic posture that would allow you to quickly fling yourself into the fight to meet any bold enough to challenge you. And with your free hand pressed flat in the air, you roll your neck and flash a cheeky, almost monkey like grin, eyes twinkling with killing intent and mischief in equal measure.

"THOUGH YOU KNOW WHO AND WHAT I AM! I SHALL DECLARE MY PRESENCE LOUD AND PROUDLY SO YOU MAY NOT SCURRY AWAY AND EXCUSE YOUR MEEKNESS AS SIMPLY BEING UNAWARE OF THE STAKES OF THIS BATTLE OR THE ENEMY YOU FACED, CURS OF CHAOS!" You roar, throwing your head back as your lips lift in a wild, predatory grin, revealing your teeth that must seem like the hungry fangs of a starved panther "HEAR ME, DOGS OF DISCORD! I AM LIEREN OF NOTHING! SON OF WENYAN AND THE MAN YOU KNOW AS ANATHEMA! THE GREAT HUNTER OF THE WILDS AND YOUR ENEMY UNTIL MY LAST BREATH FLEES ME TO JOIN THE WINDS WITHOUT END!"
Cont

>>5734129

Stepping back to pace you swing your head forward and lift up your spear, bowing as you take it in both hands and spin it around yourself, catching it by its end and lifting it high above your head before slamming it down hard into the hilltop. It bends and you use the force stored inside of it to throw yourself up into the air and spin around, landing back on your feet in the stance of the Night Crane, one leg lifted threateningly and the other supporting you with only the tips of its toes as you pull you spear back to your side, grabbing it a few hands beneath its head to make it function more like a short spear or knife. And with your now empty left hand, you flash a hand sign Guozhi often uses whilst practicing his inherited psykerist arts of exorcism and hold it a few inches from your nose.

Breathing out slowly, you turn on your toes, expelling your hot breath in a cone around you, as you gaze across the battlefield, releasing the tension in your chest and arms as you slowly lower your empty hand until it rests above your twin hearts. Then, without using any unnecessary movements, you drop your leg and fall on the flats of your feet, slipping your hand down your spear and flicking it over your shoulders, catching its head with your left hand as you adopt Jinhai's habitual walking posture, the very same that is used in the Carp's dance. And with your right hand under the lower haft of the spear, you beckon to the evil spirits who have paused to listen to your boisterous challenge.

"AND WHICH AMONGST YOU POSSESS THE VAIN GLORY AND ARROGANCE TO BELIEVE IT SHALL BE YOUR CLAWED HANDS THAT WILL CLAIM THE MARKED HEAD OF HE WHO LAUGHS BACK AT THE DARK GODS AND MAKES MOCKERY OF ALL THEIR WORKS AND INTRIGUES! WHO AMONG YOU WILL TEST THEMSELVES AGAINST MY NOBLE SPEAR AND BE RUN THROUGH FIRST! I SHALL TOSS YOUR MANGLED CORPSES AT THE FEET OF YOU SIMPERING FATHER, FOULEST OF FIENDS!" You scream with a voice of thunder and sundered steel, the skies darkening as your challenge carries through them as a wave of golden light erupting from where you stand.

"IT SHALL BE I! THE LASH OF HASHUT, THE WHIP THAT TEARS THE BACK OF EVERY SLAVE! THE MASTER OF ALL THRALLS, THE HEEL UPON EVERY NECK!" A Creature wearing a shroud of barbed and thorned chain calls out, the only feature clear to you the black flames that burn in place of its eyes and its gangly, spider like limbs "HEAR ME AND KNOW ME, YOU WHO PREACHES OF PROSERITY AND PROVIDENCE, WHO SOWS THE SEEDS OF..."

But a child of chaos should know you have a reputation for acting without care for honor or loss of face. And in a fight against that which you hate the most, you shall never act politely or generously, and you will certainly not allow the wicked the simple privilege of announcing and introducing themselves when you can simply pounce upon them and break their necks.
Cont

>>5734130

Pulling your arm back, you fling your spear and its grandiose, self flattering speech is cut short by its tip piercing its veil of chains. Not deep enough of a wound to kill even with the flames of spirit subjugation wrapped around the spears head

At least until you charge across the field, flying on those same gilded flames, to plant the flat of your foot upon the end of the haft and physically kick the spear the rest of the way through the daemon's gurgling throat. And cleanly sever its head from its body, the black flames wide with indignation and surprise as the chains covering its face move as it tries to curse at you before with a twist of your wrist, you fling its head away as its body stumbles back, grasping at the stump of its neck.

"When issued a challenge by a hunter one should realize that empty chatter will only hasten one's demise" You cheekily mock with a mirthful chortle, holding out your hand to nearest devil and urging them forward "Did you think I'd be tricked by a façade of chivalry and cordiality? I know your nature, blackguards, and you know mine. Neither of us has the patience or tolerance of the other to laud ourselves with titles and graces, come at me all at once or fight yourselves to see who is next upon the executioner's block, I care not so long as I can pierce your shriveled hearts and sever your heads empty of all but the most sadistic and evil of thoughts"

Four of them charge you without words, quadrupedal monstrosities fused to the bodies of great stallions and oxen, with two headed axes and hooked chains and man catching poles in their hands. Seems they have enough sense to realize a man who can see the nature of all he looks upon is not someone they should waste their breath trying to fool or lull into a sense of false comfort and security.

https://youtu.be/-6fcs8uE5Q4

How do you fend off their attack, Lieren?

>With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows

>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each

>By leaping into the air, wearing the cloak of the ever burning will and blasting them with a concentrated flare of your soul's hateful fire.

>Whistling, ordering the ghosts of your friends to open fire on your position. You never said you'd face your challengers alone.

>Write in

>>5734134
>Expert spearmanship

It's our second most comfortable method of waging war.
And once again, banger choice of music.

>>5734134
>With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows

Poetic I think.

>>5734134
>With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each
Jinhai created the carp dance and he is an expert spearman, so these should work well together.

>>5734160
>Support

>>5734134
>With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each

>>5734134
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each
The Hunter shall know no other before his spear.

>>5734134
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each

>>5734134
>>By leaping into the air, wearing the cloak of the ever burning will and blasting them with a concentrated flare of your soul's hateful fire.

>>5734134
>Whistling, ordering the ghosts of your friends to open fire on your position. You never said you'd face your challengers alone.

And then after the first volley or so,

>With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows

-the survivor(s)

We called these spirits here to fight these most-hated of foes, it would be vainglorious to claim every kill for ourselves.

>>5734134

>>5734134
>>Whistling, ordering the ghosts of your friends to open fire on your position. You never said you'd face your challengers alone.
shit

>>5734134
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each

>>5734134
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each

>>5734134
>With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each
Kill

File: lierenprosper.png (585 KB, 721x754)

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>>5736556
you have inspired me bold anon

>>5736815
This is what Konrad sees when he has his seizures

>>5736815
POV: you are a daemon and this is the last thing you see before receiving a permanent death

>>5736815
Kek I find it hard not to say this when seeing such nice and glorious meme of my fellow journeyman :
Glory to Shangrila and all his peoples ! Long Jia with its beautiful tongue and good conduct, Vishnu for their martial tradition and passion, Shuni for their devotion and resiliance, Bask for their courage and kindness and Zoroast for their dutiful and gregarious nature !
May the Journey aid them in the neverending path for be better.

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait. Summer has been oppressing the fuck out of me.

With expert spearmanship, aim to disarm them and then as you said you would pierce their hearts with a single thrust each:9

With the carps dance, dance around their blows and lead their strikes into severing the limbs of their fellows:5

By leaping into the air, wearing the cloak of the ever burning will and blasting them with a concentrated flare of your soul's hateful fire.:1

Whistling, ordering the ghosts of your friends to open fire on your position. You never said you'd face your challengers alone.:2

Total votes:13

So Lieren will fend off the four centauroid spirits with expert spearmanship, aiming to disarm them before fulfilling his promise of piercing their sin stricken hearts

Writing now

Also found a song I feel really fits our boy https://youtu.be/rawRhVtL6eQ

>>5736815
Incredible, just incredible. Laughed my ass of the moment i saw it, its beautiful

>>5736948
>>5737116
And there go the rest of my sides, lol

>>5737837
Couldn't have worded it better myself

The four devils anatomy presents an interesting problem for you to solve. You've fought many beasts and you've slain many men, and you've cut down many entities with body plans similar to either. Even a combination of the two. But never a mingling of form as equal as these four quadrupedal beasts whose heads have been replaced with the upper bodies of humanoids. Bull headed, like a mockery of the loyal and true Angra. Contemptible. How will they attack? How will they move? Your eyes flash between the four as they circle you rapidly, trying to confuse your senses by moving more like a riptide or whirlpool or shadows of each other than four separate beings. Their two halves move as you expect them to, but their center of mass is lower than it would be if they had two legs like men do, while where the neck would be on a great stallion is no longer as much of a weak point as it would be considering in place of a neck is a well muscled and armored trunk..

Squinting your eyes, you study them as they try to baffle your perceptions in vain, circling tighter and tighter, spinning their axes and chains and stabbing their man catching poles towards your neck, which you easily bat aside and parry with the neck of your spear, never needing to use both hands in the defensive maneuvers to ward of their attempts to put a shackle around your throat. The way their muscles are moving, you can safely consider their human appearing halves to be false bodies. There are no space for organs with how they twist and rotate their stomachs, just pure musculature. Just enough bones to keep their shape and act as anchors for sinew and muscle. Curious. The only organs in their humanoid yet bestial portions would be present within their heads, and a long esophagus that leads to their beast halves. So their upper bodies are, in essence a glorified throat.

And from that, you can deduce their vital organs, or at least the closest thing to them in the body of a creature born of emotion and suffering can have. The way their veins bulge, the inflating of their horse like flanks, the slight delay in intent and action concerning their human bodies. Yes, most of their internal anatomy is present in their lower halves, of that there is no shadow of doubt in your mind. They should've struck before you had time to observe the movements and makeup of their chimeric bodies, but in their arrogance and attempts to trick what cannot be fooled and strike fear into your unwavering heart has given you an overwhelming advantage over them.

A folly they only take notice of when you allow a triumphant smirk to grace your lips and with it exude a fraction of the killing intent you have felt ever since their fell presence blighted your senses. It happens in a flash, in the interim between subconsciously deciding to blink and your body carrying out the urge. A canny decision, to strike in the brief moment while your eyes are closed and their scouring vision is sealed.
Cont

>>5737915

But they've made a graver mistake than their earlier delaying actions and meaningless harassing strikes. They have made an assumption that you do not believe any of your more cunning enemies have ever made. Guessing that your eyes are the only sense of yours that are honed far beyond the abilities of the mundane man and into the realm of the supernatural and mythical. Even Cearnarch, drunk on suffering and the hunt as he was, understood that your other senses were nearly as dangerous as your sight and that it would be impossible to fool your intuition, hearing or smell, which is why he instead empty his mind of all intent and thought before acting against you in your duel in his flagship.

Something these hellish beasts have not done, you could see, in all four of their inhuman minds, their unspoken plan to strike while you blinked, hoping that would be enough to shield them from the properties of your sorcerous sight. But they had forgotten that they had allowed themselves all to be exposed to it long enough for your more mundane perceptions to pick out the exact locations of their organs within their curious frames.

So when you blink, you do not open your eyes again, and relying only on the sounds of their thundering hooves, harsh breath and beating hearts, you fight back, anticipating the location and trajectory of their axes, chains and collared poles through the subtle shifts in the air that you can feel along the hair of your arms and the back of your neck, and figuring out how they're maneuvering their upper bodies and arms by the same methods, but also through the ashen scent upon their smoldering breath.

Breathing in, you allow your body to follow its natural rhythm, dancing in accordance to the instincts you have hammered into it. The muscle memory of a hunter. The movements of a spearman. Though you have wielded many weapons, the spear was your first and with it you have few equals.

The daemon's natural sounds become drowned out by the chorus of clashing and ringing steal as you parry and reflect all of their blows as they converge on you in one wild stampede of an assault. You count their steps and measure the distance with their strikes as you hold your ground, blocking and deflecting with your spear with movements that would not be out of a ribbon dancer's performances, its supple haft bending and whipping as you swing it with carefully applied force, controlling the speed of your retaliatory strikes to set the board in your favor, controlling the battle as if it was drawn upon the palm of your own hand.

A single thrust, powered and lengthened by a deep lunge, lowering yourself so as to dodge a scything swing of an axe large enough to dwarf your own torso. The sound of blood gushing, like the gurgling of a river escaping the roots of a mountain, then the sound of a falling tree.
Cont

>>5737918

Three remain. Twisting around, turning on your heel, that number is reduced to two, as you hamstring the spirit beside the first fallen, and as they fall, impale your spear directly through the point its two bodies meet, splitting its spine cleanly in two and driving its head down into their shriveled heart. Crackling leaves heralding the fall of a second tree. From behind, another snarls in triumph, a man catching pole launched at your back to pin you to your latest kill. Without making a sound, you pull you spear from the depths of the second casualties body, slamming its bottom into the brow of the centauroid devil galloping behind you, stunning them as they nearly bowl over you.

Then, side stepping, with a single jab, you stab into their hear and bleed them out.

The last is already fleeing, judging from the hurriedness of their hoofbeats, they shortness of their breath and the decreasing volume of both. Calculating the distance he has made already and where upon his escape route you could conceivably foil his retreat. With the current level of wind resistance and the spirit's acceleration, he will be well withing you maximum throwing range in. Three, two, one.

Launching your spear, you do not need to open your eyes or even turn in the direction of your target to know it will land. It whistles through the air, and a moment later, a deeply satisfying thunk reaches your ears. Opening your eyes again, you catch a bat winged creatured by the throat and crush it, tossing it to the ground and smashing its skeletal head with a harsh stomp to the temple. Raising up your hand, your spear reforms out of your will.

It would seem Asbjorn and the others have had just as much success in slaying spirits as you have had.

What do you do now Lieren?
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.

>Keep killing the daemons that could be summoned by the smiths, leaving the freeing of the spirits to the ghosts of your past,

>Throw yourself into the thick of the battle, leading your allies into completely crushing the defenders of the foundry, rather than fighting only its champions or rushing to free the chained spirits within it

>The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions.

>write in

>>5737919
>Tortoise spirit

If you seek to keep it from me, I'll take it now

>>5737919
>The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions.

>>5737919
>>The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions.

>>5737919
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.

>>5737919
>The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions.

>>5737919

Write-In:
These honorless scoundrels make a mockery of the Art of Creation, enslaving spirits and souls alike to their dark constructs. Show them the cold, calculated fury of a true Master Craftsman, an architect unrivalled by any your golden eyes have met, and call upon the Mein of your mercurial brother Perturabo! You will break into the mobile workshop of evil to smash this false forge and free its captive souls from the Smith Tyrant's clutches!

>>5737919
>>Throw yourself into the thick of the battle, leading your allies into completely crushing the defenders of the foundry, rather than fighting only its champions or rushing to free the chained spirits within it

>>5737919
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.

>>5737919
>>The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions
Die demon fool, one less pawn for your master to use. With the creature gone we can push for the forge and free the spirits trapped in it.

>>5737861
Kek

>>5737919
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.
Slight alteration to also free the Tortoise spirit itself as well? Free it from the Smith Tyrant!

>>5737919
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.

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Kronk memes incoming

Dangerous idea, but would Lieren(and/or Magnus) be able to purify a demon? Not purge or banish it, but cleanse it of its Chaotic influence? Daemons are emotions manifest, but emotions are often complex and multi-faceted; could The Path be used to quiet the more malicious urges, while encouraging rhe more compassionate ones?

Obviously this is an insanely dangerous line of thinking to experiment with in-universe, I'm not suggesting we try, but it'd be funny if a daemon that leans heavily towards the Honor side of Khorne tries to absolve itself.

>>5740220
Wasn't this how we got our sword?

>>5740222
We forcefully cleansed a daemonsword and turned it into a forcesword, different altogether.

>>5740222
We debated with it because fool wanted to try and weaken us. He was on the verge of suicide.
Essentially they would attempt to off themselves or their deity would do that for them

>>5740125
>>5740132
Pretty cool

>>5740220
>>5740222
>>5740225
>>5740441
Just wanted to point out that there were multiple options for how to purify the daemon.

>>5737919
>Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

The tortoise spirit is moving away from the battlefield. Killing it would be a mercy, and doubtlessly further impede Hei'an Fu's ambitions.:5

Take advantage of the chaos to reach the tortoise forge, and begin freeing spirits and battling the scions of chaos still present atop it.:5
- attempt to also free the tortoise spirit: 1

These honorless scoundrels make a mockery of the Art of Creation, enslaving spirits and souls alike to their dark constructs. Show them the cold, calculated fury of a true Master Craftsman, an architect unrivalled by any your golden eyes have met, and call upon the Mein of your mercurial brother Perturabo!:1

Throw yourself into the thick of the battle, leading your allies into completely crushing the defenders of the foundry, rather than fighting only its champions or rushing to free the chained spirits within it:1

Total votes: 12

So Lieren will take advantage of the confusion of battle to reach the tortoise spirit and the forges on its back, to free the spirits chained and trapped with them and to grant the abused and exploited tortoise spirit a merciful death, battling any scion of Hei'an Fu who seeks to impede either of these noble goals.

writing now

>>5740125
>>5740132
>>5740133
YES! YES! These are fantastic, thank you for making them.

And as you gaze across the battlefield, overseeing and observing the numerous scuffles and surprisingly honorable duels taking place alongside ambushes and volley firing lines, your eyes trace for a moment over the behemoth tortoise spirit, being mined of its flesh, ichor and basic spiritual and emotional essences by the ever grasping children of Hei'an Fu, with forges sprouting from it like cancerous growths and infected buboes while quarries and mine shafts riddle its once magnificent shell like gangrenous decay or bore holes. The sight of the once majestic creature brought so low and wretched fills you with a deep sense of sorrow, as your emphasize with its pain. For the evil spirits have not only butchered it alive, but they have chained the tools of its slow slaughter upon its back, forcing it to bear their weight.

And within the ever churning machinery bolted, seared and branded into it's shell and the flesh and bone beneath, the fair and noble children of caged Arianka wail and weep, singing songs of agony and despair to the delight of the capering shadows and black flames that stoke the fires they fuel, mocking them with mirthful laughter and cruel jibes. And as you see these attrocities, for a moment, the Empyrean around you shifts to an ethereal replica of the court of Gao Liwei and the last bastion of the Yan dynasty, the Celestial Incarnation palace. Men half way to devils, snarling and cackling over the faded remains of the souls of men good and wicked alike. The crimes and excesses that first sparked revolutionary fervor fanned by the repulsiveness of the Yan Tyrants. The vision is drowned out by the fog sweeping around you, but the memories linger upon all your senses.

As a friend of the oppressed and herald of prosperity and plenty, you simply cannot allow those benevolent spirits and the innocent beast of burden to suffer a moment longer. Their chains shall be broken, and the abused beast shall be put down kindly with a gentle hand. And the workers stoking those flames and digging into the meat of the behemoth shall be torn asunder and cast down to a pit so deep and dark even the memory of their existence shall be lost with their echoing screams.

Flipping up your spear, you hoist it onto your back, holding it over your shoulders with both of your hands as you sprint further into the valley, pushing aside any daemon of discord out of your way with sweeping kicks or barreling shoulder thrusts as you pick up speed, running faster and faster as your astral form and the mists and fog that surround it blur together as you run faster than your body could handle in the world of flesh, gristle and living blood.

Like a cliffjumper in its native range, you make haste through the battlefield, combatants on both sides too distracted by their present opponents to pay you any heed as you become a blur.
cont

>>5741001

Kicking off the ground you soar, using clouds and billows of fog as stepping stones as you climb higher and higher, easily catching up with the retreating living industrial foundry within the span of a few spaces.

Spinning around, you reorientate yourself in the air to land on your feet at the base of a hanging structure made of shadows hammered into a metallic substances, from which grey smoke rises where the soles of your feet touch it. Odd. There is a stair leading up to a tower jutting downwards from the overhang of the shell.

In your way, are meek spirits, little imp like things dragging raw resources up and down the supply chain, storing them away where you stand in great stacks chained to the warp entities you recognize as furies for transport. The current line of these pitiful spawn of malignance stare at you, frozen in mortal terror.

You do not suffer them to live, and cut through them with ease, but do not pursue the ones that flee, whether by taking flight or plunge off the sides of hanging stairway leading up to the industrial wastage proper. You move quickly, as your arrival was spotted by greater and more intelligent spirits, who are already working to hack and saw the chains and hooks holding the platform to the shell of the tortoise to drop you and it to the ever changing landscape below.

You reach the top just as they slice through enough material for the weight of the chains to do the rest of the work, leaping over the final hurdle to your destination and landing on top of both of them. Lethally. And your presence is noticed by their equals and superiors, who turn away from their selfish contests and debating to rally a defense of their tortured quarry and foundation of their diabolical forges.

There are several objectives you came here to fulfill. And they shall hinder all of them. In your heart, you know you might be forced to choose which kindness takes precedence. The freeing of Arianka's children, putting the tortoise spirit to rest, or ensuring no evil spirit steps through the gateway to reality to bedevil humanity and enact their dark ambitions upon your brother's oppressed people.

It is an unpleasant, bitter reality. But need it be? Defiantly, you are determined to carry out and deliver each of these three mercies without forsaking any of their number. But should you fail...
cont

>>5741002

What is the first mercy you carry out, Lieren?

>The spirits fueling the forges will soon be utterly spent, drained to the point of non existences, free them first, ignoring even your own wounds to shatter their prisons

>The defenders shall be thrown into disarray with the collapse of the great tortoise. With heavy heart, cut short its life. The fall may even free a few of Arianka's kin from their cages

>Suffer not the tyrant spawn to live and massacre the evil spirits still stationed upon the tortoise with your hunting spear. Preventing the creation of a Daemon engine is your primary goal here.

>Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves

>Write in

>>5740982
>>Write in
Glad you like them, was a good laugh making them to.

>>5741004
>Suffer not the tyrant spawn to live and massacre the evil spirits still stationed upon the tortoise with your hunting spear. Preventing the creation of a Daemon engine is your primary goal here.

>Little add on
Slaughtering our way to the Tortoise spirits side and sense we will speak to it, offering the choices.
"Oh Venerable Ancient you have suffered for so long but know I have come and so it shall end one way or another. Tell me do you wish a final defiance or peace? If you wish for peace i shall grant it and wish you fair travels...but if you choose defiance, if you like I am saddened and infuriated by this perversion...stand with me Old One...stand one last time to spit in the eyes of they whom dare call themselves your masters!"

>Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves
If the Turtle agrees welcome him into the Golden Sea, he shall swim with us. Focus more on the empower than the kill.

>>5741026
Riding a giant tortoise into battle sounds pretty up our ally ngl.

Supporting

>>5741026
>support

The beast's cooperation will assist in killing the other spirits.

>>5741004
>The spirits fueling the forges will soon be utterly spent, drained to the point of non existences, free them first, ignoring even your own wounds to shatter their prisons

>>5741004
>Suffer not the tyrant spawn to live and massacre the evil spirits still stationed upon the tortoise with your hunting spear. Preventing the creation of a Daemon engine is your primary goal here.
>The spirits fueling the forges will soon be utterly spent, drained to the point of non existences, free them first, ignoring even your own wounds to shatter their prisons

>>5741004
>>The defenders shall be thrown into disarray with the collapse of the great tortoise. With heavy heart, cut short its life. The fall may even free a few of Arianka's kin from their cages

>>5741004
>Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves

>>5741004
>Suffer not the tyrant spawn to live and massacre the evil spirits still stationed upon the tortoise with your hunting spear. Preventing the creation of a Daemon engine is your primary goal here.

>Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves

>>5741026
Support! Dragon turtle ally LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO

Will we give the Turtle/Tortoise to our Allies as a Guardian beast?

They already share symbolism.
That could be the start of a cultivator/spirit beast clan thingy.

>>5741004
>>Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves

Wait what if we get the dying turtle spirit to enter the warmachine flipping it to our side?

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the wait.

Suffer not the tyrant spawn to live and massacre the evil spirits still stationed upon the tortoise with your hunting spear. Preventing the creation of a Daemon engine is your primary goal here.:6

Channel the Cloak of the ever burning will: Spirit subjugating blade and empower it with as much of the moonlight Arianka gifted you and use your spear as an explosive missile, devastating the evil spirits in front of you while empowering the nearby noble ones to free themselves:7

Slaughtering our way to the Tortoise spirits side and sense we will speak to it, offering the choices...etc:4

The spirits fueling the forges will soon be utterly spent, drained to the point of non existences, free them first, ignoring even your own wounds to shatter their prisons:2

The defenders shall be thrown into disarray with the collapse of the great tortoise. With heavy heart, cut short its life. The fall may even free a few of Arianka's kin from their cages:1

total votes: 10

So Lieren will massacre the evil spirits manning the forges, the spawn of the father of tyrants, with his hunting spear, fighting his way towards the head of the tortoise spirit to ask if it wishes for a final peace or a chance to avenge itself upon its captors

And no matter how it answers, if it does at all, will channel the cloak of the ever burning: Spirit subjugating blade, empowered with frosty moonlight, and turn the now dulled weapon into an explosive javelin, devastating the children of Hei'an Fu that were not cut down in his sprint to the ancient spirit's ear, and empowering any child of Arianka who is nearby the blast zone

Writing now

Unbidden, illusionary visions of what would transpire should you fail to succeed in each of the tasks you've undertaken play out in excruciating detail in your mind's eyes. A engine of destruction born of technologies better left buried in the sands of time, darkening the skies of Nuceria with corpse ash and blackened soot. Noble spirits, fighting a war against incalculable odds that are rarely in their favor, reduced to spent kindling, never again to take up a sword or laugh mirthfully with their kindred. An ancient mind, degraded and abused until the final flickers of consciousness fade from it. Those that you hold dear, living or dead, contending with the forces that rally against you. Too often have that which you've loved has been forced to stand against that which you hate.

The grim vision of Angron, Kanzeon, Anahita and Jinhai beneath the shadows of the great wings of a mechanical monstrosity is encouragement enough to make you refuse the possibility of failure outright, even though the actual chance of it is far higher than nothing. Far too likely for you to be comfortable. So you sup upon these nightmares born from the deep well of contempt you harbor for these evil spirits and all their works, and use it as grease and fuel for the cogs of your mechanical mind, urging for great efficiency of thought and planning as you can feel the grains of sand embodying each passing second falling upon your back, weighing down and forcing you to seek out a hasty solution for the three challenges you cannot refuse for turning away from even one would be an afront to your three views and the very foundations of your way of life.

A chart. You draw a chart in your thoughts. The brand upon your head is a lure, the children of Hei'an fu, embodying the arch devil's greed, will be unable to resist the promise of wealth, glory and prestige that taking your head would grant them. They will pursue you, even if it means losing their chance to exert their dark will upon the world of man. The turtle's head, a straight like from where you stand on the bottom left of its shell, as despite being beings of chaos, the forge workers have built their workshops in such of a way to encourage efficient movement of materials and easy passage throughout the foundry. A spear in your hand, not yet dulled.

You can see the path forward clearly now, like the sun and moon of Nuceria. In your mind's theater, you can envision each step of your path to accomplishing each of your goals in sequence, one after the other.
Cont

>>5743915

Slaughtering those barbarous villains who would willingly entomb themselves as a living engine of a goliath forged of ancient and forbidden technologies, speaking to the ancient tortoise spirit to know its desire, looking directly into its eyes to know its wishes, and then, with a now dulled and pitted spear, turning on your heel whether it is wetted with the old beast's blood or is awash with its fading energies, channeling the Qi of the hellspawn's anthesis, a being of orderly and virtuous thought and nature.

Flicking the tip of your spear from the ground, you flash a confident grin, even though within every emotion has been quieted to allow your mind to process information and work untampered and unslowed by the colors and sounds of life.

"Come" You whisper as you step forward and begin the massacre of those evil spirits foolhardy enough to charge you all at once and all together, while their wiser and more calculating brothers sit back and watch you like night cranes or owls do mice in the fields, scrutinizing every movement you make as you paint a path of oil black blood and severed limbs across the scarred and burned surface of the great tortoise's shell.

Not a single word parts your lips, you do not blink, nor do you breath. Every habitual action and mannerism is suppressed, your spiritual has no need of oxygen and there is none to be found in the Emperyean if it did. The eyes of a soul do not dry or water, so blinking is pointless. The restriction of bones, sinew and limits of muscle and blood flow, similarly, are no longer needed to be accounted for, as you are fighting with thought and will alone. The limits of your superhuman body, which you have mapped and carefully measured long ago, have been removed as variables in the calculation. The only, theoretical, limit is that of your willpower.

A variable you have let to measure the exact limits of. For you have never met a challenge you'd turn away from or anything that could force you bow and kowtow against your own designs.

It is a methodical butchery, as you move amongst the half machine shadows like the automata of the Mathoth Abominable intelligence or the servitor corpses of the high riders, not a single motion wasted, fighting without restriction or restrain, forsaking the humanoid form to become as mist yourself, carrying aloft the spear shaped and hammered out of your own unbreakable will.

When the first step is finished, you breath in and out, and cease repressing your emotional side as you are now standing atop the head of the tortoise, absolutely drenched in the black ichor of demons, charcoal dust and sizzling copper green spittle. Setting your spear down, not even deigning to glance back at the carnage you methodically wrought with utmost efficiency.
Cont

Flicking some of the filth from your hand, you brush your callused palms over its scared scalp and lower yourself down to whisper softly into its ear, that has had a blackened hook jammed and stabbed into its canal.

"Oh Venerable Ancient you have suffered for so long but know I have come and so it shall end one way or another..." You murmur as quietly and gently as an autumn breeze blowing over a still lake "Tell me do you wish a final defiance or peace?"

Its reply comes not through spoken word or even wind whispering or telepathy as Magnus names it, but rather a rumbling deep in your soul, carried by humid air. The cloying, sickening heat of a jungle, like the bone devouring forest but more primeval and wild than it was even before you tamed it.

"Rest"

You blink, seeing its dreams of a home long ago stolen from it, a strange place of vibrant plants and ancient cities of gold and humming sorceries etched into the very foundation stones and the glittering plates hammered upon them.

"Or else, a chance to continue the work allotted to me by destiny's brand"

"Ah, you and I are much alike in thought, but you remain mostly a being of logic, following the purpose you were designed for. What a peculiar sort of spirit you are, reptilian sage" You exclaim happily, hearing the smarter and stronger Daemon kin rallying to "Avenge" their slain brothers "If you wish for peace i shall grant it and wish you fair travels...but if you choose defiance, if you like I am saddened and infuriated by this perversion..."

"...You would assist me in pursuing the fragment of the great plan entrusted to me, Twice blessed and twice cursed child?

That is all the answer you need

"Stand with me Old One" You bid, raising up your hand "Stand one last time to spit in the eyes of they whom dare call themselves your masters!"

"Anathema's son, do you truly think you can rally the broken spirit of this exhausted resource?" A bull headed shadow born of boiling oil and skulls wrapped and nailed with iron hackles, spitting and choking on its own fumes as it leads the rallied defenders of the quarry atop the spirit's back "It can do nothing beside march onwards until we reach its core and excise its immortal essence to fuel greater forges than these!"

I have determined the layout of your psyche will be able to endure this

For a moment, your eyes behold what to your eyes resemble the circuitry of your gestation pod, the swirling smoke within the memory cores produced by lotus scepters, the geometrical sigils and sorcerous science your borrowed from the wards of your crib to create the Null denouncement charm script. Mathematical enchantment. Empyrean winds aligned in a gridline web like an efficient power grid. Its a blueprint, of sorts, a design of a psykerist technique unknown to you. Magnus would kill for a chance to study it,

The purpose of it is clear. A glimpse of the old sage's knowledge. The only assistance it can offer.Guidance

Cont

>>5743917

Breathing in, you shroud yourself in the golden conflagration of your soul and channel your ever burning will from your back and down your arms, filling the spear in your hand with it as the geomantic schematic the ancient one granted you etches itself on its surface. The combined energies is too much for it to contain, and its head shatters, exploding into splinters of life and fragments of an kaleidoscopic window into a world unknown to your all knowing eyes. The fresh white word is transformed into black iron, and its weight multiplies as you hold it and breath over it, controlling the flames as the sigils that had burned into your retinas continue crawling and replicating themselves in smaller scale repeatedly, passing up and down the iron staff in a cascade of bright blue light.

Isolating the spirit subjugating blade as two rings, one on either end of the enchanted staff, you then lift it up and realizing in that moment what needs to be done to complete the ritual implanted into your mind, slam one end of it as hard as you can upon your moonlight infused heart, filling it with a flood of purest Yin energies.

And for once, the fire within your eyes and the ice in your heart enter into conflict. Explosive conflict. The sigils were to service as containment for them as they met and cascade towards mutual destruction. The clashing of Yin and Yang. Fire and Water.

And so you carry out the last portion of your plan and hurl the staff at the spirit formed of oil. It pierces through them and the dancing gilded flames and Aurora of silver moonlight become blindingly brilliant and turn into flare of...nothing. Not white, not black, colorless, entirely pure from the various filths of this transient world.

And then a flood of soulfire and freezing ice expand from the event horizon of the blast, washing over first the stunned oil pot devil and then those who had wisely stayed behind him.

And a winter wind blows, as the explosion of silver and gold reaches the forges like a fire quenching rain, and with the hiss of steam, escapes the children of Arianka. And as they flee their confinement, explosion rock the refinery as the raw Qi you unleashed interacts with the strange fuels and byproducts of the industry of Hei'an Fu's progeny.

You decide then is a good time to retreat from the field, now that the battle is won and you're astral self is staring down a wall of lethal shrapnel launched at speeds that could not be replicated in a realm with more settled laws of physics. You will have to search for the tortoise later, as lingering here would only lead to you suffering needless injuries.

Opening your eyes in the real world, you can hear the triumphant cries of your fallen friends and the ghost of Asbjorn, and the laughter of the ice spirits.
Cont

>>5743918

You'd succeeded the one way the evil spirits could never have expected you to, with kindness. It'd have been more pragmatic to simply kill the tortoise, but by offering a helping hand, it entrusted to you the missing piece of your three step plan to accomplish all of your goals with a single flick of your wrist.

And after dramatically replicating the gesture even though no one is watching you who'd know of your battle, you wipe the blood stream from your nose and eyes. You might've overexerted yourself somewhat in the last stretch of that particular battle against wickedness incarnate.

What do you do now that've you've succeeded in stopping the summoning of A daemon, Lieren?

>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.

>Once the riots are quelled, order a retreat from the city, satisfied that chaos has been curbed. And collect the dead of the Nameless, at least the ones who left corpses behind, to bury them with full honors.

>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you

>Wile away the time while your students in spirit slaying complete their tasks by writing petty wrongs and evils in the dark of the night. Sure Angron will soon be liberating this city, but in the days until he arrives, the people will still be suffering beneath the high riders

>Write in

>>5743920
>Get a status report

If everything is fine
>While away the time by righting petty wrongs and evils, Without slaying a single high rider.

if things are not fine
>Fix the fuckin' issues

>>5743920
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you
Was that an actual Old One?

>>5743920
>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you

>>5743920
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you

>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.

>>5743920
>Wile away the time while your students in spirit slaying complete their tasks by writing petty wrongs and evils in the dark of the night. Sure Angron will soon be liberating this city, but in the days until he arrives, the people will still be suffering beneath the high riders

Also write-in:

The warp is home to devils and demons whom all vy for nothing but complete subjugation of all other things both Real and Unreal. But, as this mission to defy Hu'shan reminds you, it is also home to Neutral and even Noble spirits. It is time-enough to create a compendium of allied and non-hostile Warp entities and teach your Nameless followers of not just their eternal enemies, but their unseen allies as well. You would not allow your organization of demon-slayers to become some perversion of the Blood God's uncaring violence, you would not allow it to be twisted by the false Fate Weaver into inevitably hunting down innocent misguided souls, you would not allow it to fester unchanging in its teachings like the Rot Godcs followers, nor would you allow it to banish them a cruelty akin to the Fox's Mistress or become victim to unquestionable hate like that of white-black Paradox king. You have just proven that compassion and kindness can be powerful weapons against the forces of Chaos when given to yet-unbroken soul under their heel, and this is a lesson that must be taught.

>>5744098
Oh and collect the dead, though I presume that goes without saying if we aren't leaving yet.an

>>5743920
>>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.

>>5743920
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you

>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.

>>5743920
>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.
We can offer indirect guidance where possible while we...
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you

As much as we may want to get in there Angron needs a divisive victory to secure his legitimacy among the population but also to have peace in his own heart.

>>5743920
>>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.
>Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you
Heal a bit

>>5743920
>>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.

>>5743920
>Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.
Did we just learn a little Old One magic? We should show this math enchanting to Emps and Magnus later.

Magnus sat in meditation within his personal chambers within the physical realm locked behind wards and locks mundane and divine, the body is still breathing slow so at peace and balance within his domain of scrolls, journals and vaults. But his soul was in another place beyond the curtain of reality; his inner sanctum shaped by his very will and forged with the purpose he deemed; a sanctum of celestial furnaces, tanner's wracks, surgical tables and to the denizens of the warp? Dread purpose.

It was hear a feathered beast of tricks and change was forced to endure a perversion of itself; stuck within a static form, dissected, understood in totality. Khalz'arakad wept tears of mercury as the Crimson king pulled open the whirling fire at the core of it's essence with the care of a doctor, the eye of a scholar and the conviction of a zealot.

“Let us try this again-” Magnus spoke putting aside a scalpel of pale light “-are you as a lesser emanation of the Discordic Force which calls itself 'Changer of Ways'”

The Deamon tried to whisper falsehood in fact, it's exposed essence burnt but it spoke no words of mortal tongue.

“Curious” the Cyclops of the Red Sands murmured writing something down in a ponderous tome which he closed and then turned back to his prey.

“I have a theory to tell you and then a question, you will answer me.”

Silence

“Good, so as I understand your master is one of the primordial forces within this realm but fragmentary mythos and other now...shall we say deceased sources have confirmed the existence of a conceptual known as 'The Well of Eternity'.”

The Deamon squirmed,

“So you have, confirmation is most welcome. Now it is said to be a place where all came...the fathomless pit your master may have crawled from.”

The Deamon thrashed in it's bindings fruitlessly,

“A place I can find the truth”

The Trashing stopped...a chance?! A way under the Primarch's armour! It spoke;

“Yes, No...the both wellspring and pit churning and ever still where you may find all answers...my lord can be guided to it”

The Creature knew it would be able to lure the Crimson King to it's own masters side it woul-

Pain...it felt pain.

“You can't fool me Feathered snake, I don't want to look or step into that Well and damnation.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Bring me Kairos, Fateweaver” he whispered in it's ear as he cast the mind thing out into the Warp once more.

He smiled as it fled, he knew the fable...unspeakable knowledge...but one head lied, one told the truth...how to know which is which? How Fortuitous he had just the Brother to help.

>>5746425
oh, that's clever.

Meeting his brothers had both a blessing, and a curse.

Everything was in question now, and yet at the same time none of it was. He knew now that his cautuon, his wariness of everything around him, was both artificially exacerbated and completely justified.

The assassins that came for his family were as ever-present as usual, though now he began to question if they explicitly had orders to kill or if they were simply stationed to be ready if they came. Dignitaries and visitors coming to see his genius, ones he once held with contempt and suspicion that they would try to simply curry favor or steal secret designs, now give him pause and make him wonder if they seek kindred spirits. Even his own siblings, raised as noble politicians, he now wonders if they simply want to know and bond with their largest brother.

Perturabo sighs, pinching his brow before taking a sip of calming tea, a beverage reccomended to him by both of his star-scattered brothers, which he had reluctantly tried and now grown mildly fond of. His brother, both of a Man so powerful that his enemies had to scatter them and even-more yet-unmet brothers across the galaxy. Brothers whom had only discovered him by chance through soul-borne gifts he supposedly also possessed, though in much weaker strength. Obviously, their Father had roles in mind for them all, and idly the Giant of Olympia wondered if there were and redundant brothers, those of equal skill to others in the event of a tragic loss, or perhaps to simply allow two simultaneous tasks requiring the same skill set.

Did he have a twin, in skill and purpose?

Likely not, he concluded, though he suspects instead that he has a brother whose skills overlap with his. Like the overlapping fields of fire of a star-shaped fortress, he and his spacially-seperated brother all had overlapping fields of focus to supplement or even complement eachother. That is how he would do it, and if his genius could come to it then surely his true Father would think of it as well.

He'd like to meet the brother that compliments his skills, if only to compare their designs, to have an equal who could find weaknesses he could not, and vice-versa.

A small smile spreads on his face at the notion, only to turn into a frown. But, what if this brother was a sabotuer? One designed to keep in in check? One if this brother was one who grew jealous easily, one who stole designs and claimed them as his own? Lieren could see the truth in all things, but could his father? Could the people? No, no they might not, indeed them might prefer to believe this other brother if he were more beloved, if he were-

[1/2]

His train of thought stops as the teacup shatters in his grasp, and Perturabo is reminded of what his brother had said. His paranoia was not his own, it was a product of that damnable star from so far in space, one he once looked on and pondered before being told of its baleful presence. Forces that their father made him swear to never speak of. Were those forces related to the enemies that scattered them? If so, why keep such a secret? He didn't like such a notion. Enemies he could not know of, who could be anywhere. Enemies he could not protect he cherishes from…

Or could he? He strokes his chin at the thought. The Eye of Terror it was called, a malignant un-star that attacked the mind and soul. Would Magnus know more about it? They had collaborated on a few projects with Lieren, perhaps they could work together, and devise a way to create a shield of Pure Reality? Yes… Yes, they could work on that. They could create such a machine, between the three of them. And if their efforts attracted or lead to the discovery of more of their brothers? All the better. Already, Magnus had informed him that Lieren had found another of their brothers. Was there a pattern to how they were scattered? All things in the universe followed patterns, and if Magnus was to be believed then even things of other dimensions also followed patterns-

Perturabo stops. Patterns. Stars. No matter where one person was in the galaxy, two planets would share small parts of their star charts, parts one planet could see when looking directly towards, or opposite, of the other. If he, Magnus, and Lieren could compare star charts, they could triangulate eachothers positions- and with a fourth point of reference, this new brother Angron? It would only be easier. If their father found any one of them, he could find the other three- and with all four of them together, they could search for patterns, search for where the rest of their brothers were, and finally reunite, and then…

An almost-cruel spreads on the Olympian. With all of them united… then Father's enemies would truly learn fear.

[2/2]

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Calling the vote now. Really fucking sorry for the really long wait, but I got volunteered to build a cow fence for my dad, the moment before I fell asleep. So working all day beneath a cloudless sky on a hot day on zero sleep knocked me out of whack for days. I honestly wish they were grox, cause these bovines were escape artists on par with godamn houdini. I wish the sun would die.

Anyways

Get status reports on the Nameless in the city, to see if they've succeeded in the tasks you've entrusted to them.:9

Wile away the time while your students in spirit slaying complete their tasks by writing petty wrongs and evils in the dark of the night. Sure Angron will soon be liberating this city, but in the days until he arrives, the people will still be suffering beneath the high riders:2

Rest for a moment, and speak with Kanzeon, describing the odd spirit you found and the vision they showed to you: 6


The warp is home to devils and demons whom all vy for nothing but complete subjugation of all other things both Real and Unreal...etc: 1

Total votes:11

So Lieren will rest for a moment, allowing himself a rare brief reprieve, chat up Kanzeon about the odd spirit he encounter, while also requesting status reports from the nameless.

Writing now

>>5746425
Oh I really, really loved this. The ending brought a crooked grin to my face, very clever.

>>5748893
>>5748897
You wrote perturabo magnificently. Love that he got hooked on tea because of Lieren and Magnus, that's cute. I also really, really enjoyed this, grade A work, anon! Also stuck the landing well, with the star chart plan, its refreshing for primarchs to show common sense lol

A shield of pure reality....interesting idea.

Indeed the longer you sat there, atop the roof top, watching the stars glitter in an unhidden sky as black as spilled ink or strong wine, the more certain you were that you had strayed beyond the limits of what is safe and what is sane during your battle with the soot spawn of Hei'an Fu. The blood flowing from your nose and eyes was not stemming or slowing, at least not quickly. And from your experience and studies with psychic and spiritual backlash affecting the physical body, usually the recoil comes in a burst. Like a snap or oil fire. Blood erupting from orifices due to blood vessels rent asunder by a sudden decrease of internal pressure is one of the more common but less anomalous results of overexerting one's psykerist abilities or spiritual essences. Yet as you sit on this tiled roof, legs crossed, more and more blood flows from your nose and blurs your vision as it bubbles up beneath your eyelids. Curious, and most irritating. Troublesome. You idly ponder on the pool of warm crimson in gathering in your palm, dripping slowly onto your chest and knees. Your reflection shifts, replaced with those blessed youths you've taken under your wings of azure and plum benevolence. Little Meixiu, one of the most potent psykerist you've encountered, and certainly one of the strongest amongst the standard stock of mankind, with a peerless talent for spirit's touch or telekinesis as Magnus dubs it. She's growing rowdy and bold as she matures.

You'll need to change her lessons to impart teachings of self control and stringent limitation. With a flutter of her eyes, she can snap the bones of a Vishnu brave, with a flick of her wrist she is more than capable of turning a full grown man into a ball of collapsed organs and pulped meat. Incredible power, wielded by an innocent smile. In other lives, she would've struck down the lord of a thousand nights, Kamal Kanan, or else terrorized the countryside as a witch of the sort added in the exaggerated accounts of the lives and adventures of many of the prominent figures of the rebellion and older myths. You clench your hand, blood squirting between your fingers as you dash away the memories of hollow prophecy and soothsaying.

Destiny is the salve of fools, and is transient as the wind. Only the arrogant or deluded trust in prophecy. Meixiu is a sweet girl, pampered even, especially by Guozhi and the other elders of the Wanderers in the fog. Beloved and adored by all who meet her. Her abilities simply need to be trained, tempered and refined.

Yet, despite knowing there is more to be done, your legs refuse to rise. You exact quite the toll on your flesh and blood body during your fantastical battle atop the tortoise spirit in the realm of souls. You need to rest, recover. But there is work to be done. There is always more work to be done. But as heavy as fatigue as you now are, and sensing the mental strain caused by your contact with that strange, ancient spirit, you must rest
Cont

>>5749294

With a few flicks of your fingers, you send a message demanding status reports from all of the heads of the Nameless, to see how their missions are transpiring and if they require any assistance to see to the duties entrusted to them this most chaotic of evenings. It is a coded message, unique to each school and every circumstance. A portion of musical notes taken from popular folk songs, some that were made by the deeds of you and your companions, some taken from older generations, like Vishnu war ballads, Shuni mantras or Bask drinking songs. And of course for the Wood school you use a Terran marching song.

They will reply as soon as they're capable of it. But there is a more pressing matter on your mind. What kind of husband would you be if you did not speak with your wife after doing something as dangerous as charging into the den of a fanged shadows and living furnace flames, during a night were chaos reigned.

"Songbird, oh jade songbird" You muse, reaching out to your bride to be with an beckoning, welcoming thought, and soon the vast shadow of her presence falls upon and soothes you, weighing down on your own mind as she hurriedly scans it, fretful in an adorable way.

"You're overworking yourself again, your hearts rates are irregular" She scolds out of concern and love

"Because I am speaking to you" You tease, wiping more blood from your face "And yes, because of a few...internal injuries I've sustained, nothing that will kill me of course"

"The category of things that can kill you is infinitesimally small, that doesn't mean you should shrug off every bruise and cut" She reprimands, as you sense her continue to gaze worryingly at the internal wounds inflicted upon you by the surge of Emperyan energies washing from your soul into your body "Even though I do love your scars...but that is neither here nor there, You should've spoken to me sooner, you ran off into trouble with a manic look in your eye as you so often do. I might have a metal heart, but that doesn't mean its invincible, darling. Sometimes I wonder if it'd be worth the effort to engineer an alloy you cannot break, so I may have a chain to pull to keep you from rushing to meet the rare dangers that CAN threaten you...Joking of course"

"Oh I was about to worry" You chuckle, in good spirits now that the first reply, from the group of nameless, rings in your ears as the tune they send back reports that they succeeded in exterminating the sect of archeotech tenders turned daemon cultists, the only casualties being injuries that could be easily mended with Kanzeon or her sister's advance medical technologies "That it would be I who would be the songbird"

"Aren't I more like a hawk in terms of personality?" Kanzeon dryly replies

"Songbirds can be as fierce as hawks, and the timber of your is a most pleasing song" You sweetly answer, bowing your head
Cont

>>5749297

"Though you do certainly have talons that rival a panther's claws. Ferocity and kindness, in perfect harmony together"

"Flirting isn't going to keep me from pulling your ear for this stunt" She says with the barest hint of a titter to her voice before she grows silent

"So you've noticed the touch left behind?" You ask cautiously

"More like branded!" She shouts indignantly "Knowledge forced onto your wonderful mind, stuck without regard of its well maintained ordered, pressed and jammed like a book forced onto a shelf! Like a child taking a brush to a centuries old work of art. That's why you were sweet talking me? I can't even understand this, its all nonsense data, like corrupted code! Lieren, what did you stick your head into"

"A strange spirit and I exchanged gifts, hope in return for knowledge that helped me in my task" You answer plainly, scratching your chin, planning ways to soothe Kanzeon's fiery heart "A curious code, akin to the geomantic script my father used to ward my crib. It proved effective against my enemies, but as you can see, the rigor to contain and comprehend it has"

You can hear Kanzeon mentally grinding her teeth in frustration and directionless anger and sense her desire to throttle the spirit who lent you its knowledge to free itself.

"A tortoise shaped spirit, mined by the parasites, ancient and strange, unlike any presence I've encountered before" You continue to explain, hoping that more insight will calm her somewhat

"You weren't planning on receiving it" Kanzeon surmises ruefully "The sudden onset of alien knowledge was unexpected...this would've disrupted the cognizance of any brain that was less durable, and more carelessly wired. Your father's design and your openness kept it from causing more damage than it has. It's a piece of thought that doesn't fit in with the rest of your memories like crudely fused wiring or poorly written code. If I could easily project my consciousness into that layer of reality, I'd...I'd"

"Show that behind your tenderly smile and motherly aura, you have the fangs of a panther and the will to use them" You say with a smile, as two more reports come back, from both Luo Zedong and the head of the wood school of the nameless, reporting nothing of interest in terms of the containment of the flooded mutant hives, meaning that the whole of that misbegotten horde has perished in the water. May they find piece in their next life.

"I'd do something that would give me one of the fancy epithets your people hand out like gold star stickers" Kanzeon says almost wistfully, her rage simmering down "I'm surprised I haven't been given one already, considering how closely I stick by your side, if not a complimentary one then"
Cont

>>5749298

"One that the old tyrants would have had tongues pulled if it was given to them" You say with a nod, understanding the subtle implication left unspoken "And you have been given quite a few poetic titles and epithets, its simply that they're not oft spoken in your presence"

"I am a rather imposing woman aren't I? Especially since my temporary intermediary vessel is...well, Primarch sized" Kanzeon says, sounding calm but you know she is still playing host to quite the storm of anger "I know some call me Mother"

"Quite a few do" You answer, nodding your head. it is true

"I blame that as much on my nurturing instinct towards humanity as I do your habit of adopting, as well as the legion of gene altered soldiers made in your image" Kanzeon says flippantly "And I know you've been making certain I'm not mistaken for a goddess"

"It is an easy mistake to make, admittedly, as you so often remind me" You chuckle, finding you have enough air in your lungs to stand now "And if I allowed some sects to form under that mistaken assumption, well, it'd cause a headache for both of us"

"I might know my worth, but I'm not egotistical enough to desire worship" Kanzeon muses "As endearing as the thought is, I'm very much content to just be...human. Especially after so long of being denied even that"

"Ah" You gasp, as you get another reply, the last, from the water and metal heads. It is as you feared. They had to get creative to suppress the riot of caused by Kong Nue. The entity guiding the berserk mob would be empowered by bloodshed and would spread further. An infectious madness, surely created with the aid of the foul Na Gou, carried by a musical note.

It could only be contained through inventive and desperate means. Sound frequencies that will permanently deafen those at risk of hearing their wailing chant of murder, choking fumes to prevent those that cannot be saved from falling under the entities thrall from shedding more blood, condemning them to bloodless deaths. The former can be undone, if they can be given proper care and treatment, that is refused to all but the high riders in the world's current status quo and the latter is...

Regrettable. Perhaps there was a way to save those unfortunate souls possessed by bloody minded intent, but it could not be found before the riot would've overtaken Desh'ea. And spread beyond its wall

"You did all you could Lieren, and that's magnitudes more than most could hope to have accomplish if they were in your place" Kanzeon whispers, consoling you. Many would deem the night a success, but could you say the same, knowing how many lives were reduced to raw materials for a mass of hungering flesh? How many were drowned in a sea of bloodlust? How many were ruined by despair by the machinations of dark spirits? At least the face stealer did not cause any collateral damage beyond a single life lost, the other schemes of the discordant powers may have been cut short as well.
Cont

>>5749300

But they all exacted a terrible tally of lives. Innocent lives, blissfully unaware and ignorant of the forces that became their doom this night. Such a waste.

You wipe you eyes, but instead of blood, find tears.

"A bitter medicine" You mutter sorrowfully "But it would be arrogant to think I would be capable of preventing every loss of life this night. I will mourn, but I will remember. These tears I shed are precious"

"They show you heart is not yet hardened and cold" She says lovingly

What do you do, now that the night of horrors has been ended decisively, Lieren?

>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army

>The water and metal heads managed to capture the daemon in a singular host, and are preparing to execute it. You shall speak with the wretch before they banish it to back to its masters

>Makes plans to help heal those deafened by the efforts to contain the possessing tune

>Weaken the city's defenses as you leave it behind and join Angron's attack, when the time comes

>write in

>>5749302
>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army
Clear the board for Angron and his victory, having been in there we can send him plans and layouts where everything is and ensure they stay clear of the sewers for example.


Our beloved will handle the healing of tune of madness so we should focus on something more important
>The water and metal heads managed to capture the daemon in a singular host, and are preparing to execute it. You shall speak with the wretch before they banish it to back to its masters
Time to make a new fun weapon...we didn't say it could leave~

>>5749242
my rural friend i to know this burden of both familial piety and bovine escapades

>>5749302
>Weaken the defences
>Gather the dead and withdraw

The defences are our cover for why we entered the city, at least if asked.

>>5749309
Supporting, also ngl I miss home and our own arcs...or meeting pops at long last in person. We can then finally meet Horus and Russ!

>>5749309
+1 gotta cover this shit up as best we can before Angron shows up.

>>5749332
POV: You are a Daemon and Magnus just put you in the magic mason jar

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I just remembered some of the Celestial hunt might have reincarnated themselves into vat bodies. We'll have to kill them again

>>5749309
>Support

>>5749302
>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army
>Makes plans to help heal those deafened by the efforts to contain the possessing tune

>>5749302
>>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army
>>The water and metal heads managed to capture the daemon in a singular host, and are preparing to execute it. You shall speak with the wretch before they banish it to back to its masters
here

>>5749332
kek

>>5749351
a possibility unless their own kabal decided to dispose of them

>>5749302
I'll back this one >>5749309

>>5749309
>Support

>>5749302
>>5749309
+1
What do you guys think will happen if we Do tell Angron about Choas? and if we keep him in the dark?
I feel that the evil will twist us as lying and being dishonest, and will turn him against us somehow.

>>5749309
>guardsmen
support

I think after this victory we need to activate a mega group Skype call: the Emperor, Angron, perti, magnus and us. We can see one another and can be given roles/orders

You know, its kinda amazing how hard its been to be able to fix Angron's course. Like, we started on this in thread 18 and now its 28, and still going.

No wonder the dude fell. Game was fucking rigged so incredibly hard from the start that its a struggle even for multiple Primarchs, with one of whom even knowing about Chaos and so can't be blindsided as easily by their tricks at that.

>>5750039
ngl as much as i wanna skip around to Lorgar etc, id rather our own plot lines for a bit; stag spirit, aeldari journeymen, working on our own world, local space travel, handling the dark eldar whom will come back.

>>5749662
I don't think he will be that easily swayed, not now at least. Chaos will have to work hard to put a dent in this relationship, which actually matters. Honestly Lieren wants to say it but it's all on the emperor, not saying this kind of info to your top generals is a big deal. Lieren already put it in a way there is a big unknown foe to be ware of, and he presented his philosophy and way of life to Angron.
For me we should make has soon as possible multiple primarch councils (even at high distance) and arrive at the topic, much like another anon suggested. Knowing and not knowing about chaos makes a big difference.
But at the end of the war on Nuceria. We can activate another temporary golden dragon path here, so the emperor can send an expedition force of Angron legion. They will aid him in the process of rebuilding Nuceria, on we will start before we leave.

>>5749955
We are not connected or near by any means, giving orders or roles now is not necessary. Magnus, Perturabo and Angron need time to build (or rebuild in Angron case) themselves and reach for the stars.
Lieren is the only one that can go around and even then, is still a long way. Leaving him to his own objectives has proven fruitful.

Returning to the triangulation idea.

Knowing the position of the eye of terror would lead to perturabo's position and thus reveal all the rest.

But i'm sure the emperor would have eventually developed a divination technique good enough that could have led him to the rest of unknown primarchs directly given their link with him.

>>5750299
At this point in time, Chaos is actively fucking with the Emperor's divination in order to give themselves more time to corrupt and sway the Primarchs. The only reason we've been able to deny them three of their toys is because we're Motherfucking Lieren. We decide our own path. Right now, that path seems to be finding and contacting/rescuing our brothers so we can Speedrun This Bitch with the Galactic Reunification, and using the EoT as a reference point is a bad idea when lookng directly at it even lightyears away can lead to corruption.

>>5749302
>The water and metal heads managed to capture the daemon in a singular host, and are preparing to execute it. You shall speak with the wretch before they banish it to back to its masters

Our Golden Gaze will shield us from any twisting tongues, and we may yet learn valuable intel. Meanwhile, while we do so, have our other Heads:
>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army

-While we stay behind, and give Angron and his army intel about the city. We can use to teach him valuable lessons about scouting and information-gathering; allowing him a victory he's earned through his own merit while also still being a caring older brother.

Also, while Angron is taking the city, we can perform backline and support roles like taking care of the wounded and dealing with logistics, but we'll see what we can do after the next post.

>>5749302
>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army
>Makes plans to help heal those deafened by the efforts to contain the possessing tune

>>5749302
>Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army
>Makes plans to help heal those deafened by the efforts to contain the possessing tune
The Materium begs just as of our attention as the Immaterium. We should leave no trace of our work here besides the absence of the Ruinous Powers.

So while we wait, how long till we unravel whom our mysterious unnamed assistant is? Anyone got any theories or ideas? They've been there since before we chatted with the Emperor? if i had to throw out a wild, wild guess i'd say another perpetual?

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>>5751727

>>5751730
Thanks for the idea.
---
The khan whirled around the with a speed which defied the laws of reality, already he was the swiftest of the false Emperor's Sons but now with his pact with the Silver Prince he was more than that which could be fathomed. No longer was he but a man instead now a mingling of horse and man like the fabled Centaur of old, he hunted and lived freely in his patrons gardens and beyond, free to roam all reality at his pleasure and pleasure. But one thing was standing in his way, a loyalist of the Golden Pretender; Lieren.

His cloven hooves drummed the deck of his vessel making ready to charge his brother once more sure he'd ran him through a dozen times already? The Chimera should be dead, bloody ribbons and gore beneath him by now yet each and every time he thought he'd taken his enemies head or simply cleaved him in twain....nothing? Like fighting a mirage? He felt his muse whisper to him;

“Take his head! The denier, the fool and deciver! Kill him! KILL HI”

The mental spurring was interrupted by a low laugh, something ominous...something old, the master of the White Scars didn't recognise it as his brother but he felt his Patron's recognision as She who thirsts spoke through his lips.

“So you finally show yourself?” the voice was as gentle as ash on snow, as sweet the first peach of spring.

Lieren whom had been battling with his queer martial prowls lowered his weapon not looking towards his foe, the youngest of the four spoke again and Jaghatai felt himself begin to bleed from acting as but a mouth piece.

“Will you not introduce yourself take a bow now the curtain his risen?”

Lieren twitched and moved like a puppet on unseen string, his body to fluid despite being armoured, until with a sudden jolt he bent backwards head spinning so he was still looking at the speaker on the same field...laughter....only laughter.

“You mock me Clown?”

Lieren's body twisted and contorted to be upright once more the world around him twisting and becoming checkered and fluid, pulled by those unseen strings Lieren simply vanished and ina blink was upon the Khan's back...the sheer insult enraging the fallen primarch...

But his brother kept laughing...laughing....

he could hear it in his mind...over his patron,

He looked into the wells of molten gold and saw something else in there, fury, malice, bitterness....mockery.

Two brothers would not fight but two gods long overdue their time.

---
CENTAUR KHAN!

>>5751727
I have no intention of being annoying to the guy, he doesn't want to talk about himself and for the service and companionship he provides that's genuinely fine. It's a choice i leave to him. A good hard working man, diligent and skilled, and with a modest sense of humor.
He has been there when Lieren first received is starting role of minor administrator. He was one of the staff members that was assigned to him alongside his guards, by the disgusting Gao that doesn't deserve to be named.
Possibly. I mostly want to ask him an opinion on the Mahoth

The moment we get even a shred of downtime, we need to introduce Angron to Papa E. Perturabo too, if he hasn't already met the Emperor.

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Calling the vote now, sorry the wait.

Gather the dead, and ferry away those guardsmen and beggars who've seen the supernatural forces at work this night, and leave Desh'ea to Angron and his army:14

The water and metal heads managed to capture the daemon in a singular host, and are preparing to execute it. You shall speak with the wretch before they banish it to back to its masters:3


Weaken the city's defenses as you leave it behind and join Angron's attack, when the time comes:8

Makes plans to help heal those deafened by the efforts to contain the possessing tune:3

While we stay behind, and give Angron and his army intel about the city. We can use to teach him valuable lessons about scouting and information-gathering; allowing him a victory he's earned through his own merit:1

Total votes:14

So Lieren will gather the dead, and steal away the city guards and beggars who witnessed the supernatural forces at work this night and take his leave of Desh'ea, leaving the high rider city a parting gift in the form of weakened defenses as he leaves it behind, in preparation for Angron's assault.

Writing now

>>5749332
>>5749351
Excellent, that perturabo will haunt my nightmares and the smug aura of the 2nd is fantastic,

>>5751745
I really enjoyed this story, this line " as gentle as ash on snow, as sweet the first peach of spring" was so effective a description it gave me brain tingles

And this drabble reminds me how much I wanna write the prime clown and Khan, been theorizing since real early on how Lieren would interact with those two.

>>5752453
Oh, before I forget to, giving a shout out to a quest I've been enjoying lately. Noble bloodline 40k. Check it out if you haven't already, the mechanics are really unique.

>>5752455
Wish it had a little more story. Right now it's just a match maker game

But this tender, fleeting moment of solitude shared and savored between you and your promised, whose smile can alight even the most fog ridden of nights, is soon interrupted by a query whispered into your ear carried by the breeze carrying the mournful scent of blood and tears shed. It is Luo Zedong, whose diligence acts as the assassin's blade to the throat of this brief moment reprieve shared by you and Kanzeon alone, reminding you where you presently sit and that the pure, chaste love shared between the two of you is better expressed places and times elsewhere than this. Kanzeon retreats bitterly, but in good spirits, extracting an unspoken promise to watch the sun of Nuceria set and rise upon the world when it is newly freed, but leaves you to your discussion with your acolyte. The naturalized priest turned against his former gods.

"A thousand apologies for interrupting a man and woman soon to be husband and wife, but considering we have achieved our goals of preventing the great darkness incursion from their false heavens" Luo's psionic voice reverberates in the vast sea of your mind, like rain falling over the last cinders of a dying fire. Each wind whisper has a different presence and sensation from all other's. Magnus' is dry, yet soothingly warm like desert winds traced with incense smoke and old papyrus pages. Angron's is the scent of freshly oiled blades and sweat, the results of hard labor, equal parts threatening and comforting. Kanzeon is the aroma river stone, fresh growth, and bitter memories drifting and wrapping around you like a stream as a emerald hued dawn washes over your face, Mari's is cold but gentle, like the first winds of autumn, Al Uzza is all ozone and static, Anahita is machine oil and new bruises.

Luo Zedong is rain washing away a fire that burned a once grand cathedral. The death of one faith promising the rise of another. Similar to Carys', though her telepathic fingerprint is barely comparable beyond that one shared link.

"There is no reason to apologize, I forgot myself in the gentleness of her eyes" you answer back humbly as you stand and stretch out the stiffness of your joints, and begin to scrub the blood dried to your face and chest with your knuckles "I have already sensed the reason for your interruption, and without pause I shall hand to you your new orders, please, if it is not asking too much of your capabilities, deliver them to the thoughts of the other elemental heads"

"I await your command in meek silence, enemy of false prophets" He replies tersely, though in no way rudely, his tone deferring and resounding with respect

"Gather the dead, if they cannot be recovered in any meaningful way, remember their names and engrave their deeds upon your heart" You say, whistling a funerary song, recalling the friends you've had to bury along the journey that lead you to where you stand now, atop a roof of an alien world, watching smoke rise into its foreign, cloudless sky.

Cont

>>5752493

"And take into custody they erstwhile and happenstance allies we found this night, for their own safety of course. Leave no trace of our presence, let the hand of actors unnamed draw back the curtains and fade once more into the background" You continue on, as you chart out your own escape route through Desh'ea, knowing that the High riders and the Thal'kr especially will be rousing, noticing the dangers lurking within their own walls long after they could have intervened or prevented them from overtaking them "Any others who bore witness to the devilry of this night, if it is possible, capture them as well. We will make our leave and become as morning mists. However, a few key agents will be required to perform...extra duties. That I too shall personally undertake"

"Speak those honored to join you in this work, and I shall deliver your command to their hearts" He answers back proudly, as you deliver the list via wind whispering "Sabotage? And none of these names are unnamed"

"The Nameless' enemy is evil spirits, while tyrants are the enemy of all men who live free, I shall not muddle the purpose of the five schools" You explain "The beggar sect however, they were established to bring low the mighty who overlook those who suffer in silence in their gutters and in their streets, they shall see to the task with me, I shall assist you in reaching them, Zedong"

"Understood" He answers back without complaint "Let us leave behind this night of walking horrors, and face the morning son together"

"Let us meet again in more serene a setting" You answer back, mentally cupping your hand and bowing before you and Luo Zedong part ways and you prepare to do what must be done, having already mapped out the path that will get you out of Desh'ea swiftly, whilst also allowing you to pass by key locations in the house Thal'kr's defenses to weaken or break them in preparation for your brother's arrival to the city.

Fortuitously, the death of a not insubstantial number of the cabal of tech adepts entrusted with the care and handling of the high rider's archeotech, the massive riot, and sudden "Explosion" decimating a poor quarter of a city have the attention of the tyrants who rule Desh'ea, allowing you to do your work and depart without obstacle or difficulty, and the same can be said for your fellow saboteurs and the nameless agents.

Your brother's abusers do not know it yet, but they are much less well protected than they were when the sun last rose than they are now.

You all meet some distance from the city's already once burned walls, and hold a brief ceremony for those who gave their lives in defending the sanctity and purity of its peoples' hearts and mind, consigning them beneath the burning, blood drenched sands in whatever manner is customary to their own culture.
Cont

>>5752495

You and Luo Zedong linger there the longest, scattering fertilizers and native plant seeds so their selfless sacrifice may be remembered in some manner, even if by the nature of their duties, their names and those sacrifices shall be condemned to be sealed away from public eye and knowledge. Stories shall be told to their loved ones, and to all who know them, they will have died fighting against mortal tyranny, making a stand for those without a voice. A half truth that is scarcely worthy of their true and heroic last moments, spitting defiantly in the face of beings beyond most's comprehension. They deserve songs to be songs and monuments built in memory of their stand against chaos, but instead, they shall receive sand swept flowers and a false narrative of their demise.

Thus is the reward of those who shall remain Nameless until their final breath.

You hand the personal effects that can be passed on to their next of kin to Zedong, and bid the former priest fairwell as he follows the footprints left behind by Elazar.

"We could've made them tombs, a grand reliquary" Kanzeon sighs, looking over the soaked portions of sand where the nameless dead are buried "They deserve a grander memorial than a meadow of flowers"

"There is nothing that can be done, they swallowed the poison of knowledge to contain it within themselves" You sadly state, still kneeling before their unmarked graves "They deserve statues and a place in history books, to be idolized and known as heroes. The most we can do for them, is to allow their treasured ones believe them to have died in less exciting and grander manners, to think they died in combat against their fellow man rather than"

"Putrid parasites" Kanzeon spits, away from the graves "Because mankind rarely if ever learns from its mistakes, and knowing they died fighting against a hell that promises power would only lure in more rubes for those vermin to take advantage of, I know, It is just"

"Bitter" You and her say in unison

"But there is nothing that can be done, but for us to remember them" You continue on sorrowfully, as Kanzeon kneels besides you and nod

"And pay our respects" She adds "You and I will become their memorial, as we both have done before...too many times"

You nod in agreement, and for awhile, kneel beside Kanzeon, giving each of the dead their moment of silent grieving together.

"What the hell" Angron mutters when you return to his camp so distant away from the unmarked grave sight "I can feel...wounds that I can't see on you, just what did you get up to this last vanishing? Can't tell me can you"

"Your empathetic abilities are improving, brother" You coyly answer, chuckling as you step by him as the two of you meet as the sun rises above the horizon "And do not worry, they will heal"
Cont

>>5752496

"Can't imagine what could've dealt them, never met a psykerist in my time as the Thal'kr's pet" Angron muses, pondering outload as he stands with his arms crossed, gazing through vermillion morning light to look upon Desh'ea "Desh'ea...to think I'd return to you as a conquering hero"

"Is that what you plan to be?" Kanzeon asks plainly, standing behind him in so similar a posture as to appear to be mimicking him

"It is what my people deserve" He answers "In another life, I might've been something else, something worse, but when you can feel the fear others feel towards you...well, its in your best interest to stem the source of their fear and be something that chases away their fears, rather than inspire them"

Kanzeon smiles coyly

"You have a delicate heart under your rough, hull like exterior, Anahita was right about you" She teases. Angron doesn't respond, though even from where you stand you can make out his scarred and sub beaten cheeks alighting with a gentle blush

"I'm being honest, they deserve a hero. But those bastards have been spreading propaganda about me recently" He grumbles and growls, shaking his head "The only wound they can still deal me, I suppose"

"The Yan tried the same tactic against me, it didn't work" You console, sensing how much the attack on his reputation troubles angron, if only because of the lives it has already costs. Men will fight to the last if they believe their opponent to be an inhuman, vengeful monster driven by rage and spite alone.

"History will remember you fondly, Angron" You promise, bowing your head as you drift away, having your own preparations to make on the dawn of what will hopefully be your brother's great triumph.

And what are those preparations, Lieren?

>The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.

>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory

>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories

>Figuring out where New Varro actually is now that you can catch your breath. Jinhai had already met the other uncontacted nations upon Shangrala and had put in motion efforts to assist them in a similar way you did the Shuni and Zoroast, so now would be the best time to begin reaching for the stars.

>Write in

>>5752498
>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories

>>5752498
>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory

>>5752498
>The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.
>Figuring out where New Varro actually is now that you can catch your breath. Jinhai had already met the other uncontacted nations upon Shangrala and had put in motion efforts to assist them in a similar way you did the Shuni and Zoroast, so now would be the best time to begin reaching for the stars.

>>5752498
>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory
>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories
>Write in
Repeat the same great event that happened at Shangrila, when the final great victory has been achieved, you will attempt to create another temporary golden dragon path with the aid of warp anchors and the assistance of the wanderers of the fog present on the world and Angron himself. As the last gift to Angron a expedition from Terra will be sent, a portion of his own legion will join him here on his homeworld.

>>5752498
>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories
and
>The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.
I just want to go home.

>>5752545
Let's do this.

>>5752498
>The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.

>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory

>writein
Once homenrush to old Weylan ...he's our dad and really getting on in years. Once home we can reinforce stuff there so we can handle more stuff abroad knowing home is secure

>>5752545
Actually sod it let's do this if only because it will mean the Old Bear of Terra can meet his old friend again to! But only if Angron is OK with the idea.

>>5752498

>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory

>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories

>>5752545
>Support

>>5752545
>Supporting
Going to New Varro and having some death world cowboy adventures is very tempting.

>>5752595
Support.
Let Angron have his victory, while we prepare for our true passion: Prosperity.

I find it amusing and awesome that Magnus has been thoroughly convinced of the dangers of the Warp and has set out to quantify just how dangerous it is with his daemonology experiments. All without being aware of the presence of the Chaos Gods. His research, should we ever learn about it, would be an absolute boon to both the Nameless and common psykers; the former gaining a bestiary for what they hunt, the latter aquiring a survival guide of sorts.

>>5752498
>>The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.
>Figuring out where New Varro actually is now that you can catch your breath. Jinhai had already met the other uncontacted nations upon Shangrala and had put in motion efforts to assist them in a similar way you did the Shuni and Zoroast, so now would be the best time to begin reaching for the stars.

>>5752545
Ill support this but there must be a big fucking caveat to it; 'if Angron wants'.

he needs to meet dad first and then, ONLY then do we give that offer because otherwise we're effectively bringing in a new occupying army and leader when Angron has only just asserted himself. While I doubt Lieren is stupid enough to not actually confirm this first it does bare mentioning.

We will need to ensure that when the Warhounds arrive they do not feel useless or overshadowed, I doubt they will be without foes to face but we need to ensure they are not left bitter.

.

Later we NEED a quiet word with dad >>5753092 brought up a good point, I believe we should try to convince dad to atleast at bare minimum inform his psyker sons of the Great Enemy lest seeds of doubt be sown. If i had my way we'd let Pert know as well.

im >>5753126

To clarify we're leaving after we handle the tech side of things right? because after we handle the tech side of things and get Angron his support, we'll have to give our farewells, tearful and bitter they may be but still they must be so...the mist calls us home and who knows whom we may cross in the Webways on the way back~

>>5752498
>>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory

>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories
>>5752545
+1 Only if we ask Angron if its okay.

>>5752498
>Repeat the same great event that happened at Shangrila, when the final great victory has been achieved, you will attempt to create another temporary golden dragon path with the aid of warp anchors and the assistance of the wanderers of the fog present on the world and Angron himself. As the last gift to Angron a expedition from Terra will be sent, a portion of his own legion will join him here on his homeworld. BUT ONLY IF ANGRON APPROVES
>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories

Im just dropping this to remind us of stuff we have to lock down specifically back home.
1) Sweep the courts and regions for chaos once more
2) sweep the kang and others for signs of treachery or plots
3) Set the planets defences up so Dark Eldar can't raid at leisure
4) local Solar system exploration and figure out roughly where in the galaxy we are

>>5752498
>>Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory
>>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories
Let's not leave this job half-done.

>Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories

>>5752545
support

Oops, forgot I already voted for that.

>>5752498
>Figuring out where New Varro actually is now that you can catch your breath. Jinhai had already met the other uncontacted nations upon Shangrala and had put in motion efforts to assist them in a similar way you did the Shuni and Zoroast, so now would be the best time to begin reaching for the stars

Getting a second recruitment world/non mechanicum controlled tech word will only help us in the long run.

https://youtu.be/Nsy5t0GT0EU

The three most powerful psykers within the Imperium of man stood together overlooking ancient tomes and scriptures of a thousand worlds, the combed through Prophacy and trolled through Diviniations seeking answers even as the Imperial palace was shuddering, shaking and filled with the sound of a the Custodes buying them time...time from an interloper that could not simply be stopped, a foe which could only be prevented. While they were deep within the Black Vaults they knew the thing that once was their friend and comrade could not be prevented for while how to stop it remained a mystery how it came to be was a far simpler puzzle to solve.

Lieren had ever been a scholar and delver into the past, trusted above all and rightly so...he never betray them for this was not Lieren they now faced, they faced a thing...the Golden Sea has touched the pools of the Great Wellspring at the heart of the warp and mingled with it, the eyes which beheld truth recognised that which was within which was all things and so it saw itself looking into the Wellspring, over and over and over through reality, time and possibility, over and over a spiralling infinite madness. Yet a fundamental flaw remained, the churning soul within himself that consumed and remade itself; so to thing thing would devour and remake. It was Lieren, but every Lieren? It was many things but above all else it was Furious with all it beheld, disharmony, suffering, deceit and pain. It would bring them peace.

The Secondborne was Lost to them.

1/2

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>>5757496
https://youtu.be/WpW-1Z1xX3s

Ancient runes flared and died upon the great vault doors in which they had all but entombed themselves, the Amalgamation was breaking through. Dust was shaken lose from the great ceiling and treasures older than memory were crushed under falling debree; they had one chance...to prevent this from happening again or maybe before?

The Master of mankind with the last two of his faithful threw a message into the warp, it would be cast out and consumed with all of them but when reality emerged from the Wellspring once more and Creation given form in whatever primordial cacophony it did, this message would remain and hopefully be found...if fortune holds by themselves after and before this doom. The Vault began to fall apart, elements reduced to atoms, to fundamentals, unto concept and then nothing all consumed by what was becoming visible beyond the doorway.

It was a shade blacker than night and colder than a black hole, it smelt of smouldering ozone and gentle mist both, it's form shifted between the silhouette of the man they'd known and a thousand thousand they'd not all trying to pull themselves free, beasts of fable and myth equally lingering around it's event horizon as it's presence ate reality.

Yet at it's core, where a face should be was a nova, a single burning eye of molten gold and iridescent fury. The three felt themselves fading and did not fight it for there was no point, as their souls were unmade for rebirth they reflected on their Lost Kin, Magnus felt disappointment in himself for not warning his brother, the Sigillite felt tired and disappointment in himself for not acting before things grew to dire. The last to go was the Lightning lord whom embraced the dark that was once his son and with tears whispered the message which would echo into the warp.
-

=
In a another place, another time...a Lord upon Terra opened his eyes...he heard his own voice;

The message was simple; 'The Second Son must be Expunged, no matter the cost'

>>5757496
>>5757498
So basically the frenzied flame ending for Elden Ring.

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Calling the vote now, sorry for the super long wait, haven't been feeling well or like myself this week

Preparing peace time gifts for Angron and Nuceria. The planet has suffered from the high rider's hoarding their technology, and you have already prepared the means of improving the means of the average person's life, just like you did upon Shangrala, specifically the methods you employed in healing the former Cui territories:16

Attacking Desh'ea, with your sons and Brothers of the panther. You'll only play a small role, but it would be an insult to not stand by your brother's side the day of his victory:13

The return trip to Shangrala, with Jinhai and the various generals under his command. When the Thal'kr, the mightiest of the high rider houses fall, the rest will be of lesser concern if they do not capitulate outright the moment they see the way the wind is turning.:5

Create a golden dragon path gateway on Nuceria and ask your father, if one is established, to send a force of his genesons to him: 9

Figuring out where New Varro actually is now that you can catch your breath. Jinhai had already met the other uncontacted nations upon Shangrala and had put in motion efforts to assist them in a similar way you did the Shuni and Zoroast, so now would be the best time to begin reaching for the stars:3

Visit your aging father: 1

Total votes:17

So Lieren will join in the attack on Desh'ea with his sons and hunting buddies, only playing a small role in the battle as it'd be a grave insult to not stand by your brother's side on the day of his great victory

And when the battle is won and Desh'ea is freed/ secured, he'll present peace time gifts he's had already prepared and manufactured as a means of improving the average persons life upon Nuceria

and among these gifts will be a gateway that will act as the third "Shore" of the gold dragon's river, and instructions on how to power it with both ordinary and psionic energies and the golden ratio,

So if he wishes, he may contact your father and request a portion of his own gene legion or whatever else he desires from your shared progenitor (As well as praising Magnus and Perturabo's genius and their contributions to the designs of the veil piercing devices)

Writing now

>>5757496
>>5757498
Good use of ambience, and the eye looks great and is properly foreboding, both helped to really sell the grim tone of this little horror story. good work

>>5758139
Just a head's up, we're floating on page 9. Do with that information what you will Malal.

Ngl I'm hype to compare this victory march and parade looks as compared to his Canon return with Lorgar

And you toil tirelessly and without rest to see that those preparations are complete before that dawn arrives and the drums of war are beaten heralding the down fall of the Thal'kr and the ascendance of Thal'kyr. Your fondness of dramatics along with your distaste of overburdening yourself with promises that may not be kept, at least when you have no intention of going back on words spoken and oaths sworn, is the reason you have kept the gifts you are now taking inventory of hidden away with Kanzeon and Anahita's titanic true forms, away from any prying eyes or curious attentions, even Angron's own when he rarely ventures onto the ancient space craft. A gift of this splendor should be a surprise, and you'd hate to have bolstered your brother's hope for the future of his world and people before he has, by his own skill and steel, won the right to guide them to an era of prosperity, plenty and freedom. There would be nothing crueler if this endeavor of liberation, to cast off the shackles and yoke of the high rider's rule, had failed AND you had revealed to him the gifts of technology and knowledge that had been denied to the common man of Nuceria, burned out of arrogance or ignorance or simply lost in the bloody, selfish wars of bickering tyrants.

But, now that it is clear to even the most cynical and purely analytic and logical part of your mind that victory will be achieved, that the chance of crushing defeat is so minuscule as to be all but null, that it is time to gather these gifts in preparation for the peaceful era you are certain Angron shall usher in, like the rising sun after a long, chilling night. Amongst supplies to improve soil fertility and agricultural sustainability and crop yield, and machines and materials to produce medicines cheaply and environmental stabilizers to repair the damages dealt by negligence and careless pollution generated by the use of Archeotechnology that was barely understood by its owners, and the various means you've employed to gradually heal the damages done to abused lands and environments like the Cui fief, is a gift beyond any other.

A rare artifice, rare even than surviving examples of the technology of the golden age of technology that it was conceived from. The results of the unity of the fine minds of three wise brothers, Magnus, Perturabo and Yourself, the expertise of fair Kanzeon and the webway and knowledge of the Aeldari. The gateway anchors that can create a Gold Dragon River. You smile, fondly remembering Perturabo's euphoric expression when he suggested the application of the universal golden ration principle in the anchor's key components, and the colors of Magnus' eyes when he suggested the use of psionically active materials. Without their unique perspective and their peerless expertise and intellect, the golden dragon river would have remained a dream.
cont

>>5758220

"I can't imagine giving this to Angry Ron will lead to anything but a father son fist fight" Anahita huffs and puffs, having exhausted herself lugging a crate of liquid fertilizer that was larger than herself "He still has a chip on his shoulder about that guy, and I can understand why"

"Angron may have opened his heart and offered his trust to me, but he still suspects our father made us as tools before sons" You answer with a sagely nod, frowning as you imagine the confrontation whilst idly inspecting the molecular null denouncement script engraved within the strands of wraith bone woven within the starmetal chasis of the anchor devices "I cannot deny him his belief, but can hope meeting him in person will convince him of his affection for us, his lost and scattered sons"

"Angry ron? That Guy?" Kanzeon scoffed incredulously, as she sat atop an open crate, a dozen of her metallic doppelganger drones picking through the rice grains, inspecting them each individually "You are aware that "That Guy" has plans for galactic conquest"

"Reunification" You correct politely as you realign one of the wires within the left anchor of the gateway

"Same thing" She said with a roll of her eyes "And is a similar existence to ourselves?"

"And?" Anahita asks cheekily, flopping down onto the ground with a flutter of her eye lashes

"And he's accepted us as people, humans" Kanzeon says on the edge of cordiality, clearly irritated by her sister's blithe attitude this morning "Instead of abominations left over from the old night in needing to be put down"

"Tch, you just don't want to offend your father in law" Anahita teases, flipping back up to her feet "And don't let that self loathing show, it isn't cute, Kazzy"

"Oh bite me" Kanzeoin mutters and you whip around, sensing immediately that Anahita was planning to obey her older sister's command, but you were to late "OW YOU IDIOT! I CAN ACTUALLY FEEL THAT REMEMBER!"

You decide it is best to stay out of their sisterly squabbling, especially since you know from helping to design their avatar bodies that they have enough bite force to break your skin if they wanted to. And you knew a bite mark on the neck or shoulder would be interpreted by certain individuals. Like Angron. Or Jinhai.

They'll stop their fighting and bickering soon enough anyways, unless Kanzeon decides to escalate. She'd have every right to. Anahita did bite her and is acting rather childishly. A slap to the cheek would be the gentlest punishment she'd deserve for being rowdy enough to interrupt important work and to bite her sister like a little girl. But still, it brings a smile to your face to see the two of them act so carefree. So you silently see to your cataloging and preparing every gift you intend to give to your brother, only pausing to glance back to make sure Kanzeon and Anahita aren't at risk of needing a new avatar to be constructed or their current vessel mended.
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>>5758222

Some cosmetic damage was fine, but a clearly broken neck would...be disconcerting for those who do not know that their flesh and blood bodies are simply puppets which their true selves experience the world through. And envisioning such a sight is, admittedly, disturbing for you as well.

So you decide to intervene, even if you know both of them won't go so far, accidents can happen. Especially when one is wrestling beneath precariously stacked cargo containers that could crush a star metal armored astarte beneath them if they fell from a sufficient height. And soon enough both of them are laughing and happily working together again, with a few new bruises between them and a bleeding bite mark marring the fair skin of Kanzeon's left arm. Thankfully their mouths are sterile so there is no need to worry about infection.

The morning sky that greets you when you're done with the labor of preparing the thousand fold gifts for Nuceria is the reddest you've ever seen, and the air is crisp and cool. A gentle breeze washes against your face as Kanzeon hooks her arm with yours and stands closely by your side and Anahita casually swaggers down the landing pad towards the armies amassed before your brother and his father Oenomaus and the dragon Eruthrós who presently sat curled around the elder gladiator's neck, its plumed tail flicking much like a horses.

He's giving a speech. You should gather the brothers of the panther, and the astarte of the second legion and their attached force and drill them to readiness, but you the allure of hearing Angron's oratory skills is too great for even a man of your temperance to ignore the pull of. So you linger, and listen.

"Sons and daughters of Nuceria. For too many generations have the few stood above the many. For too long our blood has been shed and our lives wasted for the amusement of distant and uncaring overlords, men born and bred for sadism and arrogance like prized hunting dogs, while we, the masses, the mob, toil and slave in their shadow" His voice resounded throughout the valley, like the crack of distant thunder or the roaring of a water fall, unable to be ignored and impossible not to hear. Every soul gathered before him listened in reverence and you were certain Yin Lei was on the verge of tears already, even though he had just began to speak. The man was zealous in his beliefs, and was moved by your brother's denouncement of the high riders, which a court official you recognized from Jinhai's palace translated, while Jinhai himself sat astride his rescued Qilin, remaining silent by striking and imposing figure for the new recruits of Angron's army to gawk at.

Every day, men, women and even children of all walks and stations of life flocked to his banner, despite the propaganda spread by the increasingly desperate high riders.
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>>5758223

The lure of freedom was enough to overpower any fear of death in their hearts, and the promise of vengeance against their oppressors was just as strong an attractant for his cause

"We've all suffered under their yoke! All lost family and friends to their conceit. I have had brothers and sisters die in my arms, cut down by cruel blades, seen them trampled by our so called and self appointed masters! Brave men, good men have been happy to die opposing them" He rages, clenching his fist and then thrusting it up in the air, as if he's caught the crimson sun on the horizon and is crushing it to dust in his hand "Rather than to be spent for their amusement. I pity those whose final moments were deafened by the cheers of the crowd, the laughter of their "betters"! And while I grieve for those who were not able to see them humbled and broken, I myself am rallied whenever I reminisce of those who gave their lives for our cause, for this struggle. But, the same sand has drank the blood of both. We all carry the dreams of the dead, a shared burden like the chains we once wore. The high riders would have us all wallow in their shadows, to have us die afraid in the dark. To die in the light is a slaves greatest wish, and many of us have. And many of us will today"

He spoke of those brave souls who gave their life fighting the mad shade of The Mathoth's failed grasp for immortality, in a manner only you and he and the other survivors of that dreadful encounter would understand, while also speaking proudly of those who gave their lives elsewhere in this war of liberation. You would have to visit the monument built in their honor before you left Nuceria.

You wipe your eye as he lowers his hand and his usual grimace softens from a vicious and fierce snarl into a mournfully forlon expression, his bared teeth turning to a gentle frown

"But we die so our children can be freed. So they will one day think the stories of our suffering to be nothing but that. Stories. Told by their fathers to scare them to bed!" He laughed dryly and darkly, though his frown inverted to become a smile "That is our goal. Not slaughter, genocide or retribution. We can kill the bastards sure, but our reward isn't something tangible. But its worth more than any stack of gold or vault of their toys. To know not a single child will be born into slavery, that no man will wear an iron collar or suffer the iron nails! That we will be free to determine our own path"

You grinned at the sight of Journeymen from two worlds cheering and shouting fervently. Angron waited patiently for their exuberance to subside, his father looking close to tears as Jinhai held his head high, looking to be shedding tears of his own. And you knew why. Angron's defiant speech brought back memories of friends long lost to you both.
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>>5758224

"We will not become them! I swear this! I'll kill any man who dreams to rule as they did! We need no kings! No masters! No gods!" He bellowed, rage overflowing out of him in a wave, visible to the eye of a psykerist like yourself, blood red and roiling "Our future is our own to decide. We've what authority without restriction or oversight leads to. Every man will be his own master upon Nuceria, so long as I live"

How would that work? Similar to the Bask republic? You'd have to ask. That was quite a promise to make, but one you quite approved of, to say the least. It'd be easy for him to name himself the sole authority of Nuceria, to become emperor. A demi god king. Yet, like yourself, he didn't even think of claiming power for himself when presented a golden opportunity to. His sole ambition, is to be free and see all others to be free

Marvelous, absolutely marvelous. As you expect from your beloved brother

"That is the oath I swear today, a promise forged of broken chains in blood drunk sand. I should have to say more. Our enemy is in front of us. There's nothing waiting behind us. Lets cut the head from the strongest house of high riders, and once and for knock them from their high seats" He said, unsheathing his sword as he began to march from the podium quickly constructed for him to stand high upon "We've battered and bloodied them, so now lets kill them and strike a spark to burn the other high houses to the ground"

The roar of approval, from both his people and yours, is enough to shake the ground. Literally. Their combined voices are so powerful that the frequency causes a minor, localized earth quake.

"Godamn" Kanzeon whines, covering her ears as Anahita roars and yells, joining her voice with the rest as she falls in with the two marchines, only not vanishing from view due to her towering height.

"Shall we join the fray?" You ask, offering her a hand so you may stride hand and hand into battle. Which should make for quite the memorable height

"Trying to steal your brothers thunder?" She joked as she took your hand and with a flick of her wrist, called a plasma pistol her empty hand

"Oh glory is as ash in my mouth" You laugh as you rush to take command of your personal forces to lead them into the fight from their head.


"Holy shit" Kanzeon gasps "Do you see how fast Angron is running, he's half way to Desh'ea already"

"Ah, so that was his game, drawing strength from collective excitement of those around him and their exaggerated vision of himself! He came up with that himself, amazing!" You shout excitedly, as your brother uses his empathetic ability to bolster his troops and embody the ideal image of Angron Thal'kyr, as conjured in the collective unconsciousness of his followers. Eugenius!
_

The battle for Desh'ea is quick.
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>>5758225

The city was burned when you freed your brother, and its defense crippled when you left it a second time. Combined with the confusion caused by the night of devilry, the Thal'kr were caught entirely unprepared. The defenses they trusted failed them immediately, and with the ranks of their tech adepts thinned, they couldn't field as much Archeotech horrors as they could in prior engagements.

And with the weapons supplied from Shangrala and looted from every battle one or vault Angron marched past, they were outmatched in both technology, numbers, and morale.

It'd take a genius of the like of Yin Lei, Yan Zihao, Lai Song, Dai Niu or Long Jia Jinhai for their to be any hope, not of victory, but of a costly retreat in the face of such overwhelming odds. And that is without accounting for the two primarchs and the sister ships present on the battlefield, or the specialists units, like the wanderers in the fog, Aeldari, brothers of the panther and the veterans of the butcher war.

The son had just passed the horizon when the battle began, by its end, it has only scarcely reached it zenith.

It is a complete, total, crushing victory. Angron's army and the Shangralan volunteers suffered very few causalities and the high rider forces are killed to the man. Excepting those who turned their coats or surrendered themselves pitifully to the overwhelming might of one man.

One man. Who when they found him, they named him slave and put a collar around his neck. They have paid dearly for their wicked villainy, for the destruction of their society and way of life has come by the hand of the one they made a slave.

And it is a beautiful sight for your golden eyes.

But, you cannot become distracted. With a noose in hand, you hunt down those villains who would otherwise scurry and hide away like rats. You, your gene sons and personally trained hunters only play a small role in the conquering of the center of high rider rule and power, but you all ensure that the vilest of them and their followers are judged and punished according to their crimes. Before the second line of defense falls, bodies of the condemned hang from walls and high buildings. Perhaps the terror incited by seeing their peers and trusted lackies as hanging corpses assists in weakening the morale of the defenders, perhaps the mysterious glitches in the defense matrixes they relied on so heavily was the deciding factor. Who can say. All that is certain, is Angron earned this victory and has proven himself in the eyes of the Nucerians. Whether they consider him a savior or blackguard, none upon this world can deny that Angron freed himself and bested the high riders by his ability and force of will, even if recieved some help from strangers from the stars.
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>>5758227

"Damn beautiful sight, isn't it, father" Dae-hyun muses, smoking on a rolled and tightly packed leaf, with a clay bottle of a weak wine made from grain called "beer" in his other hand as he stood, still dressed in bloody armor, at your side, observing Angron's triumph through the city, with his father and the heads of the free city of Loc'ea marching with him and Jinhai and the shangralan devils.

Dandan is in charge of fire works. Which at first nearly caused a riot as it made both the on edge soldiers of Angron's army and the terrified civilians of Desh'ea think another army was assaulting the city

"Yes it is" You say, tearing your eyes away from Kanzeon's face as it was lit up by a blossom of red and orange sparks from a rocket you specifically designed so as to paint the darkening sky with the faces of those who gave their lives in this struggle, to give a brief memorial in the night sky to the brothers and sisters your brother lost to see his people truly freed from high rider ruler

"Tch" Dae-Hyun snorts, catching your wandering eye "I mean the parade. We didn't even get these back home. We'd be given medals and honors, but, well, we didn't have time or resources to waste on something like this. Hell, if we tried, I bet some techno barbaric fuck would've launched a suicide attack just to rain on our parade"

"If it was thrown in your honor, old bear, I think they would've been part of the crowd" Nikephoros quips as Anahita, with a bruised eye and cut across her cheek gasps at the next sequence in the firework show, leaning against Kanzeon as they both enough the festival in the heavens that Tao Dandan was throwing

"And I'm sure those "Techno barbaric fucks" outrank you by now, Hyun" Chul Moo laughs, grinning ear to ear as he enjoys the hospitality of the locales, in this case two women who delight in his tall tales and war stories while he plays cards with Hector "Since we've all probably been marked down as MIA"

"And yet, we have the honor of fighting alongside two primarchs" Dae-Hyun exclaims triumphantly "While they fight over lifeless rocks with our cousin, I can imagine my old friends in Uncle Angie's legion dying of jealously, since we fought beside their daddy first"

"If they're still alive" Nikephoros, as befitting a creti sighs gloomily "The War hounds never shied away from suffering devastating losses"

"Eh, in their next lives then" Your once entombed son shrugs off, but you can see how deeply that off handed remark has stricken him. He fears for the well being of his distant friends. You push the thought from your mind, not wishing to dwell on such unpleasantness, and instead delight in watching Angron and the slaves and gladiators that escaped alongside him and who survived to the end of the war, striding as conquering heroes through the city that they were once enslaved in.
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>>5758228

Through the glare of fire works, smoke of lanterns and crowds surging around him, you focus in on your brother. And devout the image of him, with tears in his eyes and a contented smile on his lips, surrounded by adoring masses as he is presented the broken blades of his fallen enemies

And his enemies, who are lead in front of him in the same chains they placed around his wrists and ankles. Most of the hanging bodies have been taken down, so the populace of Desh'ea won't think they'll soon join them. But in the palaces of the Thal'kr, nooses await necks.
_

"Grisly work, Lieren" Angron chuckles, dressed in a white, thin robe slung over one shoulder and clasped in pace with a pin shaped like a watchful hound. He's speaking off the tech adepts, Lanistas and swindling merchants you had judged in the gardens of the Thal'kr and hung there amongst the flowering blossoms and heavy hanging fruit "So this is where you've vanished to eh? Didn't see you during my triumph, That hurt, brother"

You laugh

"I was enjoying fairer company than you, and keeping my sons in check" You jest, shrugging as you finish tighten a noose out of length of rope, ignoring the blubbering and pleading of the woman whose neck it is placed around it

"Not her, I assume" He says off handedly, his severe eyes become chips of ice as he looks at the high rider with such scathing disdain that contempt is not enough to describe the emotion in her eyes

"No, met her when I wore the face of an old man, but couldn't put a rope around her neck before...well, we met" You answer as with a single might tug, you end the life of a woman whose crimes are too terrible to recount, and secure her corpse to the tree beside her husband, who assisted her in her inhuman crimes

"Surprised you left a job half done" Angron remarks casually as he sat beside you, swirling a glass of wine in his hand before he sighed "Ya know, never thought I'd get this far. I always dreamt of fighting back and avenging all the wrongs done to me but...well, I didn't think I'd live long enough to do. Didn't think I'd be cheered for it either and now"

"You lack purpose?" You ask, as you watch the shadowy shapes in the trees sway, accompanied by the familiar sound of creaking branches and rope.

"Something like that, don't know what to do next" He answers after a few moments of deep thought "Or myself. I know what's waiting for me in the stars"

"More killing" You answer, as you take the wine her offers, and you sup from the glass, lifting your eyes to see your dear friend Feng writing poetry with the help of the Emperor of Long-Jia, out on the outskirts of the piece of garden you took to hang the last few wicked men and women who had escaped your grasp during the battle or had not met their deaths during the chaos of it. He must be writing to his wife, Akanksha. It was an old custom amongst soldiers, that you were glad to see survived all the changes wrought upon the culture of your world
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>>5758230

"Its what we were made for" He answers bitterly

"In part" You amend, wagging a finger in his direction "And speaking of our creation, I have a gift for you"

"Hah, I've seen your gifts, your brothers and wife filled the old throne room with just a portion of them" Angron huffed, shaking his head

"A greater gift. A chance to meet our father. To meet your sons" you say quietly, as you hand him back the wine glass, studying his expression carefully

"I've felt him trying to reach me" He mutters under his breath "I don't need your help to speak with him"

"I mean in person. How do you think my astartes and I came to walk the same road?" You chuckle, shaking your head, sweat dripping from your hair "And before you ask, why would I want to, would it not be better to meet him now, rather than later? You have your concerns about him but...is it not better to know than not, and simply imagine"

"To see with my own eyes the man who created us" He growls after gulping his wine "To meet my new master"

"Oh you're being dramatic" You say, waving away his cynicism. Angron glares daggers at you

"You. Of all people, saying I am being dramatic. I should punch your teeth out" He says, raising a fist half heartedly in a joking threat

"But is it not better, to kill your fears? Or else know they are real?" You press

"I will" He sighs heavily through his teeth "I know you trust those eyes of yours to see the truth, but I only trust my what my instinct show me"

"With your gift, that's nearly as much as my eyes reveal" You chortle off handedly

"So, how exactly will I meet him? Through the webway?" Angron asks curiously

"That is my gift, a gateway that connects worlds" You answer "If you wish to speak to him, just contact him psionically and you can both turn the key, and meet eachother. And see for yourself your fears aren't warranted"

"I'm more concerned with getting my own space marines onto Nuceria. Having soldiers like that would help keep the peace, if the high riders try and retake power" He answers "Then if our father truly cares for us as deeply as you say"

That is a lie. But you do not point it out

"And you and all your friends, you'll be leaving soon as well" Angron says, sadly after a moment "I'll admit, you can be a pain in the ass, but I'll miss you"

"We'll reunite soon, brother" You promise, holding out a clenched fist. A gesture you learned from your gene-sons. Angron smirks, recognizing it. And gently places his knuckles against yours

"Well, so long as you don't die smothered in your wife's bossom" He laughs "We should drink together, like only brothers can, while we have the time"

"You speak my own thoughts, Angron" You snicker as you stand, and leave the corpses to the crows and Feng and Jinhai to their poetry "Lets see if there's any bottles of Dragon's spit left undrunk, but first, allow me to praise the towering intellect of our absent brothers..."
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>>5758233


What do you do, when you return to Shangrala, Lieren.

>Tell the story of your adventures to the imperial court and make sure Daiyu doesn't scold jinhai too harshly for running off to join you, and present the ministry of development's plan for space travel

>Open the gold dragon's river and return the psykers of Nuceria to their home, and for a brief while, show Angron the world you came from

>Visit Wenyan, and apologize for being away from how for so long and see how Nothing has flourished while you were gone.

>Visit the nations that have joined the Long-Jia empire for signs of chaos, and visit the last of Kanzeon's sisters' graves

>write in

First big update in awhile

>>5758235
>Tell the story of your adventures to the imperial court and make sure Daiyu doesn't scold jinhai too harshly for running off to join you, and present the ministry of development's plan for space travel
>Visit Wenyan, and apologize for being away from how for so long and see how Nothing has flourished while you were gone
We should return the psykers just so we don't break the promise but do tnt focus on it to much
We secure the ground and only after look to space

>>5758235
>Open the gold dragon's river and return the psykers of Nuceria to their home, and for a brief while, show Angron the world you came from
>Visit Wenyan, and apologize for being away from how for so long and see how Nothing has flourished while you were gone.

>>5758274
+1
Promises to be kept, wonder if we'll get a pov of their meeting or it will be kept as a point for later

>>5758235
>>Tell the story of your adventures to the imperial court and make sure Daiyu doesn't scold jinhai too harshly for running off to join you, and present the ministry of development's plan for space travel
>Open the gold dragon's river and return the psykers of Nuceria to their home, and for a brief while, show Angron the world you came from

>>5758235
>Tell the story
>Visit wenyan

As another anon said, sned the psykers home but deligate that.

>>5758235
>Open the gold dragon's river and return the psykers of Nuceria to their home, and for a brief while, show Angron the world you came from