(Had this in drafts gonna go ahead and use screenshot then type the rest)
@bookandyarndragonwritesdark @felinisnoctis @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @legionsofthehungry
@cunninglinguist-69 @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @nereidof40k
Shots ring out above Huron's head but he manages to dodge them. And what shots do land barely damage him through his still burning Khornate aura.
Or rather he doesn't feel the damage, and any blood spilled simply grants him more of war's blessings.
He takes a shot to his arm but pushes through Huron's bloodied teeth show in a malevolent grin as he laughs! "You Loyalists truly Do forget the most simple things. When one tactic fails."
The metal of Scintus's chassis shrieks and disintegrates bit by bit under Huron's increasing grip. And he actually does manage to wrench a huge plate free from the back of it.
And with a snarl he flings the ceramite wall. It sails forward and hits it's intended mark.
The Champion manages to raise his chainsword just in time to block a fatal flattening. But the force still drives him backward at incredible speed until he becomes pinned against the nearby piles of rubble.
"ARNAULT!" Roland tries to escape the sinking but his legs just seem to crack the ground more as he tries.
And worst still sprouts of green begin crawling from the cracks everywhere around them. They are weak alone but spread like hungry tentacles in a united force
Sigismund grits his teeth, shifting carefully to avoid plundging himself into a gap or becoming tangled. If he turns to aid Roland and Arnault, he abandons Scintus. If he aids Scintus, he leaves his Bruders open to attack.
Huron revels in his dilemma. "Now who's in place to offer Mercy dear precious Cousin?" He chuckles.
"Uurgh.." A voice from inside the broken tomb.
Huron grins even wider, eyes even more bloodthirsty. He begins to move his hand towards the Dreadnought's open cavity.
Sigismund feels his blood run cold, but prepares to burst forward and rip this filthy Traitor's HANDS OFF-
"IN THE NAME OF MACRAGGE AND THE PRIMARCH I WILL BEAT YOU TO A PULP!"
Before either active combatants can flinch a new giant in Gold and Ultramarine Blue slams into place. He nearly flattens Huron who has to step back from his intended prey.
There stands Cato Sicarious, chapter master of the Ultramarines, right hand to the Primarch Reborn.
And he also has a great sword, not of chain but one that glows with a plasma and promise of violence.
"Not so much Fun when it's against Marines your own Size now is it?" Another almost shrill voice calls. He turns.
A ghoulish visage appears atop the rubble of their makeshift arena. Well ghoulish to a human, as far as Nightlords are concerned this one is as standard as they come.
Compared to Sigismund and Sicarious his presence almost want to make Huron laugh.
"So when your precious Emperor's Choir boys fail you send not one but Two Chapter Masters...and some Whoreson of Curze? To defeat me?" Huron laughs with disbelief. He's almost booted from anger for pure...incredulousity? Is that a word?
Khopesh grins, wider than he already was. "Now now Blackheart. Didn't your patrons ever teach you about judging looks? Wouldn't want your precious pantheon removing your boons because your pride got the better of you."
Huron snorts as Khopesh hops down to join the new three vs one. "You know you actually speak some sense Whoreson. Perhaps then I should show you Exactly what you are Dealing with!"
Another red aura flares to life around Huron, but only for a moment.
Huron tries again, a glow appears briefly, and then gutters like a blown out candle.
Sigismund doesn't smile...but he certainly enjoys what he's seeing.
Huron tries again but in vane. No glow. No barbaric strength, even the tangles he'd summoned with his aura of rot seem to stop growing altogether.
"What...-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!?" He snarls, panting and angry and...
Khopesh places a clawed hand upon his chest. "Why it's not what I've done to you. Blackheart..." The air pressure shifts and suddenly the Nightlords eyes seem to glow from within, a feral shifting light that seems to pierce what remains of his soul.
"It's What We've Done To You." The Nightlord recites in a voice that's only half his own. "While you were so busy throwing Entropy around left and right and Hurting our Friends, I decided to try...a little something new. Tell me...you don't recognize this feeling? Are you perhaps drawing...A Blank?"
Blackheart's own hearts race he doesn't understand. "You are no Blank! None of you are blanks!" But that girl...He flits his eyes around desperately searching for the blank. That Damn Blank! He knew he should've killed her when he had the chan-
"Oo-Ooff!" Huron skitters back across the cracked ground, barely managing to stay upright against the hit and oppressive atmosphere.
And the damn Nightlord Still! Keeps! Talking!
"No. But it's actually not difficult to mimic one. After all, what is Silence but the absence of Entropy or Negentropy?" The Nightlord purrs after shoulder checking him back several feet. "Your seeding of the arena made it even Easier to leech it all back out. I had an entire runic array planned but you did my job for me. So thanks for that!"
But Huron doesn't have time to ponder that. He has to face down three opponents without his auras. At least until he puzzles out how to Kill the witchy Nightlord!
Keme contacts his brother as he keeps his scope trained on the Arena's left side.
"Thank fuck. That battle aura was making our shots useless. Now comes the Fun part."
Hebe nods in agreement focused on the right. "Indeed. Now that we don't have to worry about hitting them, We can cover the Templars first, make sure the injured can be retrieved."
"We make sure he can't leave the circle."
"We'll make sure he can't escape his fate."
Both twins smile, perfectly in sync, and return to supplying cover fire.
