Everyones favourit radical Inquisitor is back! If you were a fan of the first Daemonhost, than you will love what Lucien has in store for the loyal servants of the Emperor this time around. If you did not read the first Daemonhost, then its advised you do before proceeding here. Another warning, this part is a gazillion times longer than the origional! Best read it a bit at a time unless you really want to read it all at once.

This part of Daemonhost also sees the entrance of our very own Liechtenstein in a character of his own.

I hope you guys enjoy, and any comments or critisizm you may have are craved.
Cal




Daemonhost - Part II


I


"Remind me again, master, why we are slaughtering these pointless pests?" Seyton asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh lighten up Seyton!" Lucien said, with his usual malicious grin. "Can't you take fun in anything anymore? Does there have to be a reason behind everything?"

The two of them walked with the rest of Lucien's retinue in the underground slums of an Imperial hive known as Caren. The quality of life down here was poor, and disease and death were common. Rotting corpses that filled the gutter were now common objects that were paid little attention, and cannibalism was also not heard of. Life down here was a constant struggle, and those that escaped deformities and disease were usually forced to defend less fortunate family. There was no longer a difference between crime and business, with no form of enforcers or police evident. Gangs and criminal syndicates were the law down here, and they remained unchallenged.

Lucien loved the putrid atmosphere down here. He breathed deep breaths of air, thick with the scent of decay, and looked at the shabby and ruined buildings with delight.

"You witness the work of Grandfather Nurgle before you Seyton!" Lucien said brightly. "Head it in all its horrible glory!"

For all the disease, pollution and murder that happened down here, there was still one factor that Lucien thought the most delightful. And that was the threat of mutants and rebels against the Imperium! Lucien had known about this place for a long time, and had meant to pay it a visit to harvest new followers and soldiers. Now that he had come he was not disappointed, and found hoards of deformed and insane mutants ready to serve. Rebels were more than pleased to join him, and criminal gangs even put aside their differences to join Lucien and rise to the higher levels of the hive.

They now fought all around the radical Inquisitor, slaying innocents, murdering women and children alike. Those mutants who were not fast or strong enough were often rent to pieces by others, or left behind the pack. Soon the streets of the hive were drowning in blood, and the air polluted with horrified and dying screams! This pleased Lucien greatly.

Rebels also fought in packs and gangs, wielding guns and long knives. The molested, plundered and killed everywhere they went. There was to be no escape for their victims, and they fought like animals and daemons! They tore, ripped, broke, burnt and crushed!

"Drink!" Lucien advised them. "Drink deeply from your victims! The delicate fluids of a human being are so revitalising for a warrior!"

When all who could be found were dead, and everything in ruin, Lucien directed his army of the damned through to the higher levels of the hive, where they plundered and slaughtered some more! When they got closer to true civilisation, enforcers and planetary deffences attempted to halt the hoard of mutants and traitors. But they were outnumbered a hundred to one, and unprepared. They fell with the rest of those who resisted.


* * *


+++Incoming Vox+++

........Playing>

+++My Lord, I am distressed to inform you that Hive Caren of Laheth has come under pressing attack from mutants, heretics, traitors and rebels! They seemed to have risen out of the depths of our Hive, spawned from pollution, lack of proper resources, disease and other decadence! Thus far they have remained almost unchallenged, and if left in this state they will surely rise and take the entire Hive for themselves!

We desperately seek your aid, as we cannot turn to the other Hives on our planet, for they will surely come under a similar plague within a matter of time. We have talked amongst each other for as much time as we dare to squander, and have come to a common agreement. This situation requires the immediate attention of an Inquisitor, for the lives of rebels and mutants cannot be permitted to continue! We respectfully await your anticipated arrival, and wish you Emperors speed!
May the Emperor be with us all!+++

+++End Vox+++


* * *


Five days had passed since Lucien had arrived, and set light to the Caren Hive with their own civilians. He had not reached the highest sanctums of the Hive, but it seemed unlikely that he would not do so in a matter of days. Though the rebel groups now tired and had lost much of their initial fury, mutants would never be fatigued. Lucien allowed them to continue killing and burning on the higher levels of the hive that they had reached, but had brought his true advance to a temporary halt.

"What are we waiting for?" Seyton hissed.

Lucien's entire retinue sat inside a broken building, which was filled with corpses and rats. The centre of the building burned with a primitive fire, and Lucien sat on fallen rubble as he rested himself. His red eyes were closed behind their lids, and his face was placid a if he slept. But he was still fully aware of his surroundings, and aware of his Acolytes bothersome questions.

"Why are we waisting our time here, when we could still continue our unstoppable advance and take this worthless Hive in one fell sweep!" Seyton almost shouted angrily. "Rest is for the weak and worthless!"

"Calm yourself, Seyton!" Lucien said forcefully. "You are far to sinister and arrogant! Still your tongue before you say something you do not mean, and sit down!"

"I will not rest!" Seyton persisted. "I only ask why, master. What are we waiting for?"

"Did it ever occur to you, Seyton, that we are not just here to slaughter pointless lives?" Lucien asked, not opening his eyes. "There is an actual purpose behind this? A purpose that will take more time to evolve!"

"What purpose is that?" Seyton asked, trying to sound respectful.

"We must give our enemies time to...prepare!" Lucien said, a slight smile curling the very edges of his pale lips. The kind of smile that meant he had something sinister and horrible in mind.

"You play your cards very close to you chest, master." Seyton commented.

"Patience!" Lucien said. "It is a virtue, Seyton! It is also a skill."


To Be Continued...



II

On the sixth day Lucien turned his mutant legion once more on the people of the Caren Hive, slaughtering and burning everything in sight as he had before. Interestingly there had still been very little military Resistance, despite the fact that Lucien was almost ready to push into the upper most levels of the Hive. Soon he would be above the planets surface, yet he had not seen so much as a single Imperial soldier or Storm Trooper. The number of planetary enforces had increased with each level the mutants reached, but they were still of little use in preventing Lucien from reaching the next level. For the radical Inquisitor, it was almost becoming a bland and pointless project.

"Why don't you fight back?" Seyton was shouting into the face of a dying man, the Acolyte's long knife through his throat.

"Let him die Seyton." Lucien said in a monotone. "He is not worth your energy, and neither is your frustration. Be patient and we will get what we seek."

Seyton spat into his victims face, then withdrew his knife and sheathed it at his side. The dead body of his victim slumped to the ground, and Seyton gave it an angry kick with his black boot.

"They should be stopping us now?" Seyton protested.

"Were it any other planet they might have!" Lucien said. "But the Senators of Laheth are rather more clever than that, Seyton. I believe the ignorant fools are trying to ease us into a false sense of security."

"You think that they have something planned for us, my Lord?" Seyton asked, unconvinced.

"You will be challenged plenty before the destruction of this worthless hive is over, my boy!" Lucien promised, his red eyes flashing.



"You requested my presence?" Asked a stern voice.

"Yes, my Lord." Replied a humble senator, bowing his head to the mighty figure that stood before him. "We are honoured by the speed of your answer to our call. We did not expect you to get here so soon, but we are of course most grateful!"

"I understand." The tall figure replied, his piercing gaze bearing down on the short senator. "I wish to set the planetary defences to work at once. I require unquestionable loyalty and obedience from your regimental leaders."

"Of course, my Lord." The senator replied, leading his company down a wide corridor. "I have already summoned Major Bardock and his officials. They await you within a conference room this way."

"There is no tome for delegations." The man said quickly. "We must act fast if we are going to quell this rebellion quickly. Tell your Major to arm his men immediately, and brief them for battle in the hive!"

"You do not wish to first see a cross section of the hive, and what has already fallen to the mutants?" The senator asked, surprised.

"I already have." The figure said. "We will intercept them on the eighty seventh level. They will reach it in a matter few hours by the rate their moving, but that level is open enough for us to mobilize a mechanized unit, is it not?"

"You mean, tanks?" The senator asked.



Blood spattered across Seyton's face as he gouged a long knife deep into a blue uniformed enforcer. He twisted the blade, causing his victim to gag in pain and cough up a substantial amount of blood.

"Don't do it again!" Seyton whispered into the man's ear. "It freaking hurt!"

He pushed his blade in as far as it would go, before he gave it a final twist and dissected his victim's intestines and liver. The dead corpse dropped lifeless into a pool of blood, a smoking handgun still in its hand.

Seyton then straightened himself, and slumped painfully back against a concrete buildings, tearing a bullet from his shoulder with an instrument he usually used to torture people. He held the blood soaked metal pellet up to his face, snarling at it before letting it drop to the ground. He then pushed up off the wall, holding his left arm close to his body so he wouldn't agitate the wound too much. Luckily it was not deep, and would only require a few stitches, but it hurt like hell.

The Acolyte stepped slowly back to where Lucien stood, appreciating the carnage before him. The radical Inquisitor bared his fangs in a wicked grin, his crimson eyes seeming to shine at the sound of blood shed and tortured screams. His spidery hands were curled around the blade of his sheathed sword, and they seemed to twitch as evidence that the Inquisitor longed to draw the weapon. But he had to be patient, his turn would come soon.

"Get your revenge did you?" Lucien asked Seyton, not even turning to look as his Acolyte approached.

"Yes, my Lord." Seyton replied, turning to the Sage to seek medical treatment. "I didn't expect any of them to have a gun."

"Obviously!" Lucien snorted to himself.

After another few moments the Inquisitor seemed to break from the trance he was in, and he stepped back towards Seyton. The Acolyte was having his wound stitched, but of course the Sage was no medic and so there would be a nasty scar later. Seyton hissed in pain as a small pin pierced his skin several times over to sew the bullet hole shut.

"Oh, hurry up!" Lucien said. "There's [center]no time for that now!"

"Why?" Seyton asked, turning his cold gaze on Lucien.

"Wait for it." Lucien said, a malicious grin on his face. He fell silent, leaving nothing but the sounds of battle and slaughter to be heard. A second later a particularly piercing scream tore through the air from the distance, and it caused Lucien to cackle like a maniac. "That means we're ready to move on! Only eighty seven levels left now!"

The Inquisitor then turned on his heel, and began marching in the direction that would lead to the next level of the hive. His retinue were close behind him, Seyton at the rear pulling his robe over his stitched wound and a sour look on his face.


To Be Continued...



III


Inquisitor Joseph Liechtenstein sat in the rear compartment of his personal transport, pondering to himself about what was about to take place. But more importantly why.

It was he who was summoned to help the civilians of the Caren Hive, and to quell the rebellion, and outbreak or mutants. They had obviously hoped that the presence of an Inquisitor would bring a swift and crushing end to the situation, and that is exactly what Liechtenstein intended to do. He had a reputation for being zealous, loyal to the Imperium and efficient in everything he did. Every action was thoroughly calculated and thought through, and yet done with the fury and energy of the youthful. Liechtenstein lived up to his reputation well, and this outbreak of mutants and traitors would be no exception.

In the space of only a few hours, he has managed to fuel and arm 4 Lemun Russ battle tanks, 3 Hell Hounds and 8 Chimeras carrying loyal soldiers of the Imperium. He had also ordered the dispatch of Storm Troopers into the sewer systems, planning to blow as many passages and tunnels as possible to force the enemy above ground. The plan was to crush the advancing hoard under the might of the Imperium's tanks, and then chase down the scattering remains of the infection until every last heretic, mutant and traitor are purged of all sin!

Liechtenstein currently sat with his eyes closed under their lids. His stern face looked strained, as if he were in deep meditation or thought. His brown hair was combed back to show a healthy hair line and clear complexion. His strong jaw and prominent nose ridge gave him an intimidating look, especially when one came under his cool and emotionless gaze. He was clad in brass power armour under a black cloak, a psychic hood rising from behind his head.

Sitting inside the Rhino transport with him, was his retinue. The first member was a Storm Trooper named Carl Rogers. He had been recruited by Liechtenstein from his home world of Gadvoc VII, after several years in the Imperial Guard. He was a trusted ally and body guard, and had saved Liechtenstein from many possible fatal blows. He had the scars to prove it, but his body and mind were still strong, and he would continue to serve until he died. On his back he carried a maimed shield which had been recovered by his Inquisitor superior from the ruins of an Imperial chapel. It's significance was not yet known, but a large band of Chaos cultists had gone to some length to try and destroy it. Liechtenstein had vowed to take it with him, study it, and revere it until its origin was discovered.

A warrior priest sat next to Liechtenstein, his red robes hanging loosely from his lanky body. In one hand he held a Brazier of Holy Fire, a flame which would forever stay alight for as long as there were heretics and traitors to burn. In his lap sat a large lather bound book, the contents of which was highly sacred and classified. Only the eyes of the Priest and Liechtenstein himself had fallen on its aged pages. The Priest's name was Zane, and he was a zealous and loyal servant to the Imperium and Inquisition.

There was a Sage also present, recording all of Liechtenstein's orders when he spoke, and relaying them over its vox unit to all leading officers. It had also recorded much of Liechtenstein's personal thoughts, which the Inquisitor deemed important or would need to remember later. Those files were replayed to the Inquisitor and him alone when he requested them. He had programed the Sage to immediately erase all evidence of those recordings, if the Sage come under threat of capture or destruction.

Only one member of Inquisitor Liechtenstein's retinue was missing, and that was his servo skull. It was currently travelling through the sewers with a unit of Storm Troopers, giving the Inquisitor eyes and ears where his infiltrators were. He intended to know exactly what was happening at every location of the battle field at, every single moment.

"My Lord," Came the robotic voice of the Sage. "Major Bardock contacted me exactly two point eight seconds earlier."

"Play the message." Liechtenstein ordered without even opening his eyes.

The Rhino compartment was suddenly filled with the recorded voice of Major Bardock. "All vehicles are now in position, sir! We are respectfully awaiting your orders."

"Tell him to sit tight." Liechtenstein said. "Don't open fire until he sees the hatred and insanity in his enemies eyes!"



"Is it just me, or can you also hear the ground rumbling?" Lucien asked Seyton, who walked besides his master.

"I take it that the Imperials are finally moving against us." Seyton said, not looking at Lucien. "An armoured company?"

"A little odd inside their own hive." Lucien commented. "Still, it will make for an interesting struggle. Who will crush who? The mechanized might of the Imperium, or the unstoppable hoard of mutants?"

"Do you expect us to lose, master?" Seyton asked.

"Not really." Lucien said, a knowing smile crossing his angular face. "But that remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

Lucien and his retinue walked almost casually down a dusty side alley, avoiding the main slaughter path of the mutants. Screams and the sounds of killing still filled the distance, but Lucien no longer paid it any attention. His own beating heart longed to kill, his mouth desperate for the taste of blood, which had been denied him for so long. The Inquisitor could feel the usual withdrawals he went through if he did not feed. His hands began to shake and twitch, and his red eyes became wide and crazed. But willed himself to be calm, and that his time would come soon enough. But his cravings would soon become unbearable.

Without warning, the ground at Lucien's feet suddenly rocked heavily, and an explosion sounded directly under the concrete. The Inquisitor was forced to drop to his knees to keep his footing, and the rest of his retinue stepped back as the ground began to break up. Dust was thrown into the air, and the concrete floor quickly began rubble and fell, as if there had been a cave in. Lucien jumped from the rubble, his black robes billowing behind him.

When the explosion stopped and the ground became still, a gaping tear in the floor had opened. Lucien stood for a moment of shock, not daring to move. But it was not long before he had regained himself, and curiosity took the better of him. Slowly, he motioned for his retinue to stay back while he investigated. He stalked slowly towards the gap, trying to see into the darkness underneath.

"Frag!" Came a voice from the gap. "You could have waited until we were a little farther away, you bloody fool!"

When the dust had fully settled, Lucien saw movement underneath. His keen sight picked out five visible Imperial Storm Troopers in the darkness. They had not yet noticed the Inquisitor, but they would soon look up. When they did, they suddenly froze and stared at him in silence. They did not quite seem to know what to do, and so Lucien just stared back. Silently in his head, the radical made a note of which one seemed the youngest and had the most blood.

"Hello." Lucien said cheerfully to break the silence, and smiled broadly to reveal his long fangs.

This seemed to terrify the men immensely, and they raised their guns immediately. They never got a chance to fire them however, for Lucien swooped down on them like a great bird and grabbed the closest to him. He pulled the lad's body close to his, sinking his long teeth into his neck and draining him of his live fluids. He then pushed the lifeless body to the ground before drawing his sword and quickly dispatching two more of the soldiers. A third raised his hell gun to fire at Lucien, but a long knife slid through his throat before his finger squeezed the trigger.

Seyton ran up beside his master, the both of them watching the remaining Storm Troopers flee back down the dark tunnel the had come up. But Lucien would not let them escape, and outstretched his thin hand in front of him. Red sparks began to shoot up the Inquisitor's arm, before full jolts of lightning burst from his palm and finger tips. The red light weaved amongst the fleeing storm troopers, electrifying them and burning their bodies to ashes in seconds. There was only one survivor who escaped the psychic attack, but he soon feel with a sharp pain between his shoulder blades and knife sticking out of his back.

"Tricky little buggers!" Lucien commented. "They must have been trying to blow the sewers and force my mutant hoard above ground! They'd be easy pickings for the demolisher shells then! Clever!"

"But not genius." Seyton said. The two of them then smiled at each other.

"Correct, my friend." Lucien said.

Unexpectedly, a small light shone in the distance of the tunnel. It was too small to be torch light, yet it slowly became bigger as it advanced closer to the Inquisitor and his Acolyte.

"What the hell?" Lucien said to himself as he tried to get a look at the small source of light. When it came into view, the radical Inquisitor recognised it at once. It was a servo skull.



"Pleased to meet you." Inquisitor Liechtenstein said to himself, still inside his rhino transport. 'That is no mere mutant.'


To Be Continued...



IV



"An Inquisitor!" Lucien shouted, throwing his arms into the air. "They've sought the help of an Inquisitor!"

"What is wrong, my Lord." Seyton asked, hiding a smile. "I thought you wanted to give the Imperials time to prepare."

"But an Inquisitor?" Lucien barked. "I didn't expect them to have the means to summon an Inquisitor! And so soon!"

"He could have been here before we arrived." Spoke Lucien's mystic.

"I doubt that." Lucien spat. "He wouldn't have just happened to have been sitting on this rock for no good reason. If an Inquisitor shows his face somewhere, it is always for a reason."

The radical, and his retinue, now stood atop a high metal ledge. Behind them was a wide circular tunnel which they had emerged from, and in front of them the eighty seventh level of the hive stretched out into a bleak darkness. The edge of their platform dropped straight down like a sheer cliff face, and a fall would be fatal. Every now and again in the distance, a bright explosion would tear apart the darkness and mist, and was closely followed by a deep boom. These were the sights and sounds of the demolisher cannons going to work on the mutants. Lucien paid them little head, and the moving streets were enough to comfort him in the fact that he had more than enough slavering beasts left. But disposing of those tanks would be difficult, and having an Inquisitor leading them would make it all the harder.

"Tell the Black Hands and Falcons to move into whats left of the sewers." Lucien spoke to his Sage. "They need to try and get close to that darn armour and place charges."

"Of course, my Lord." The Sage said, already activating its vox.

"Do you think that we will be able to over come them?" Seyton asked his master.

"Possibly." Lucien replied. "But we will need to act quickly. Most likely the Inquisitor, whoever he is, has already ordered the aid of the other Hives. Their own armoured might will be arriving in only a few days."

"Don't you think that the other Hives would want to be well guarded in case there is an uprising there?" Seyton asked.

"Previously I was relying on that thought." Lucien spoke. "But we have been discovered, Seyton. The Inquisitor will likely know, or at the very least suspect, that it was we who broke this storm. The other Hives are unlikely to suffer a similar fate."

The two of them stood in silence after that, watching the carnage bellow. Not far off, an entire street went up in bright orange flames as a Hell Hound fired. The tortured screams and moans of burnt and dying mutants soon arose from the area, and Lucien watched as the dark form of the Hell Hound crunched forward over their decaying corpses.

"Come." Lucien spoke. "It is almost time for the grand finale. And I do not wish to be late, or detached from the action!"

"What about the Inquisitor?" Seyton asked. "You're not going to seek him out?"

"No." Lucien said, a delicious smile crossing his serpentine face. "I think he will try to come after us. Sadly I will not be available, so I left a friend to great him in my absence."

Silently, the dark forms of Lucien and his retinue re-entered the tunnel from where they had arrived on the ledge earlier.



"Into the sewers!" Liechtenstein had commanded his retinue.

Minutes later they walked down a dark tunnel, the walls of which were covered in green slime and. Water came up to their ankles and splashed as they moved forward, but Liechtenstein was not overly concerned about stealth. The only thing that concerned him at that precise moment was hunting down, and destroying a heretic. He had learned the name of his enemy through a data base scan by his Sage, and the crimes which this radical was suspected to be behind. His cunning and ferocity was matched only by his ego and audacity it seemed. Liechtenstein would not allow him to live.

Rogers walked ahead of Liechtenstein, the torch from his hell gun illuminating the path in front of them. They had encountered several mutant packs who had escaped the carnage above and surpassed the Storm Trooper mines, or traitors attempting to gain forward positions with their own explosives. Neither traitor nor mutant survived long against the zealous and self righteous fury of the Inquisitor. Those who were not burnt alive by Zane's Brazier, or Liechtenstein's Scourge, were either cut down or shot. This was the vengeful wrath of an Inquisitor.

They trudged on in the darkness for what seemed to be hours. Occasionally the entire tunnel would rock, and the ceiling above would threaten to give way as shells exploded over head. Through careful planning and fortune, Liechtenstein managed to guide his retinue away from where he assumed the next shell to land. The Sage's ability to calculate their exact position at any one time was incredibly useful, and eventually the sounds of falling shells disappeared into the distance as they moved away from the main fighting. Other times they could hear the shuffling footsteps of mutant packs above, but Liechtenstein was forced to let them be and hope that the Emperor's wrath would be brought swiftly to them through other means.

"We must be getting close by now?" Asked Rogers, obviously sick of the darkness and filth he walked in.

"Indeed we are." Liechtenstein spoke in a strong voice. "I can feel that traitors disgusting presence. He is here, that is for certain."

"So he's not going to run away on us, sir?" Rogers asked.

"Not likely." Liechtenstein said. "This particularly scum seems to like a challenge. We can lure him to his own redemption."

"Good." Rogers spoke. "I finally get to purge some heretics a-"

Rogers fell silent suddenly, his voice dying in his throat. His torch light had fallen on something in front of them, but only for a second. When he returned the light to where it had been, the thing had disappeared.

"What?" Zane, the zealous warrior priest, asked.

"Did you see that?" Rogers asked.

"Indeed I did." Liechtenstein said, his eye narrowing. "There is something filthy down here with us!"


To Be Continued...



V


Thump, thump, thump.

This sound echoed up the sewage tunnel towards Inquisitor Liechtenstein and his retinue, who all stood ready for what ever may emerge from the murky darkness in front of them.

Thump, thump, thump.

The cause of the sound could not be seen, despite Rogers torch light shining far down the circular passage. Nothing entered the light, yet the sound continued to get closer and closer.

Thump, thump, thump.

"What is it?" Zane breathed, before being hushed with a sharp hiss from his master.

Tension grew with every thump, and the thick and putrid air in the tunnel became suffocating. Liechtenstein drew his green power sword slowly and quietly, crouching slightly into a battle stance. Yet an enemy still could not be seen, only heard. And still it came closer.

Thump, thump, thump.

Soon it sounded as if it were right in front of the Inquisitor and his holy retinue. As if some twisted creature of chaos should have been towering directly ahead of them, yet the tunnel was still clear. Nothing could be seen, and nothing moved.

Thump, thump, thump.

And then the sound stopped, and an even more complete silence filled the tunnel. A silence that pressed in around Liechtenstein as the darkness did, and for a few brief moments the Inquisitor mockingly feared that he might have suddenly gone deaf. The breathing of his retinue was all that proved his fears unfounded.

Then, with a suddenness that made Rogers and Zane jump, something fell from the ceiling of the tunnel. It landed in the shallow murky water with a simple splash that tore at the silence, and there it remained for a few moments before moving again. It had looked merely as if a thick black rag had dropped from the tunnel's roof, but sadly it was much more. When it rose again, Liechtenstein looked upon it with such hatred and rage that the air around him threatened to explode with a shock wave of furious psychic energy.

It appeared to be a man, who wore nothing but lose rags from its otherwise naked body. It looked as if it had not been fed in days, its limbs seemingly nothing but stretched skin and thin bone. Its body was marked with deep cuts and wounds that did not bleed, but looked hideously infested, and crawled with maggots and other insects. The face of the man was pale and sunken. Its jaw hung loosely open to reveal black gums and rotten death, and its eyes were yellowing and lifeless orbs that starred blankly ahead of itself. It looked like a corpse, yet it stood as if manipulated by a puppeteer.

Nothing happened immediately after that. The body stood and seemed to look past the Inquisitor's retinue, while Liechtenstein and his men starred straight back.

"Mutant!" Spat Rogers, raising his hell gun to fire.

"Oh, no." Liechtenstein said. "This is something much worse."

Without warning, the thing opened its jaw wider and emitted a terrifying screech that bounced and echoed off the walls of the tunnel. The high pitched scream threatened to burst the ear drums of those in radius of it, and everyone who had ears in Liechtenstein's retinue ducked and covered their ears in pain and horror. Liechtenstein however raised one gauntlet, and pointed it straight at the creature.

His mind reached into the warp, calling on its furious power and channeling it up his arm. But then something went wrong, and Liechtenstein's mind was filled with visions of creatures so dark and horrible it was unspeakable! They burst forth from the warp and clawed for the Inquisitor's mind, attempting to devour it and destroy his very soul. Liechtenstein cried out, breaking contact with the warp realm and clutching his head with one hand. His skull ached as if it would collapse, and his thoughts swam as he tried to regain control of himself.

In the mean time, the creature in the tunnel lurched forward and reached out with black fingers. It looked as if it were to take hold of Liechtenstein, but Zane was at his masters side. He held up his Brazier of Holy Fire, and from the end of the staff the orange flames grew more violent and burst forth in a torrent of blazing fire! The creature attempted to turn and run before it was engulfed in the flames, which rushed forth down the tunnel, compressed against its walls. Another piercing scream echoed from the creatures jaw, and then it was gone leaving only a faint thumping as a trail of its retreat.

The flames cleared, leaving the air thick with the stench of burning. Liechtenstein rose, and looked at Zane with a harsh eye.

"You could have burnt us all alive down here!" Liechtenstein burst out in rage. "You don't know if there was something flammable in the sewage!"

Zane was speechless, and turned his gaze away from his masters. The warrior priest hung his head in shame, as Liechtenstein calmed and placed a hand on the fanatics shoulder.

"Good job." The Inquisitor said. "The Inquisition needs more priests like you."



Radical Inquisitor Lucien threw his latest victim to the ground, savouring the taste of fresh blood that covered his teeth and lips. His red eyes shone brighter than usual, and his fangs were bared as his long tongue licked the last drops of the precious fluid from them. He was hunched over his victim, and his hands were clawed. But it was not long before Lucien regained control of himself, and straightened up.

He stalked forward slowly to the edge of the building he stood on, looking out over the carnage that had evolved in front of him. The streets of the Hive was aflame, the orange glow illuminating the air. The Imperial tanks had truly done their job on the mutants, the hoard now broken and scattered into small mobs that now retreated towards Lucien. The Imperial Guard had ranked themselves up next to their vehicles, forming a line across the the city that no mutant or traitor would pass. Their guns were poised and ready, and no press of mutants would stand that amount of fire. A few shattered shells of the Imperial vehicles could be seen flaming here and there, but they were of little consequence now. Reinforcements had arrived from the other hives, and the Storm Troopers had emerged from the sewers. It seemed that Lucien had lost.

"You under estimated them, it seems!" Seyton said, standing besides his master. "You did not expect such stiff resistance?"

"I did not expect the presence of an Inquisitor!" Lucien spat resentfully.

"What will you do now, my Lord?" Seyton asked, a mocking smile spread across his face. But he hid from Lucien.

"I will not be defeated so easily." Lucien said. "I admit that I expected to be able to push further up the Hive. But this place will have to do!"

"Do for what, my Lord?" Seyton asked.

"The grand finale!" Lucien said, his thin lips now twisting into a smile of their own.

Seyton starred long and hard at his master. The more the events of the past few days evolved, the more apparent it seemed to Seyton that he had been left out in the dark. The more apparent it became that Lucien had been plotting and scheming behind his back, and the ends to his planning had always been hidden. Lucien had said that he had expected to be able to push further up the hive, but not that he had expected to be able to take over the hive. It had now become obvious to the Acolyte, that his master had not intended to utterly destroy this hive at all, and that he had another hidden agenda. One which the Acolyte neither understood, or would know of until its fruition. These thoughts angered Seyton greatly, as he did not like being left out in the cold.

"Are we ready?" Lucien shouted at the mystic.

"Almost, my Lord."He replied. "They rush forth through the warp at a high speed! They are almost here. They are almost ready!"

"Good." Lucien said to himself. "Then we must wait. They will emerge from the pits of hell in their own time!"

"Indeed." The mystic agreed.


To Be Contiued...



VI


When there is a wearing thin of the barriers between warp space and the material universe, a warp storm is created. A violent place where the laws of physics are bent and broken, sanity can not exist, and nightmares are spawned into reality. But when these barriers are forcefully torn open, the destruction can be a lot worse.

When Lucien's plan came into fruition, the thundering of battle cannons and gun fire was drowned out by the terrifying scream of reality being ripped in two. Stone and concrete buildings began to crumble to pieces as a shock wave swept through the Hive, and men and mutants alike were thrown to the ground. The air seemed to spark with insane energies, making everything seem tense. The soldiers of the Imperial Guard hugged their weapons, their wide eyes darting in every direction as if they expected their doom to come at any moment. Their cheers at the fleeing mutants had died in their throats, and the roar of their tanks had stopped all together now. Reality itself became distorted, the rock and rubble on the ground slowly lifting into the air as if a magnet pulled them. Images of horrifying creatures filled them mens minds, and they could here the shuffling of a hundred feet as those daemons came for them in
their thoughts.

It was then, in a wide street directly in front if the Imperials largest battle line, that things truly went crazy. Thin air began to take the shape of hideous faces and gnashing claws. It looked as if the coming daemons pushed against a barrier which they could not yet break, but they continued to push against it with all their might! Then, with a giant rip, the gates of hell exploded open and the creatures of chaos burst forth. A gaping hole into the warp grew larger and larger as daemons spewed forth out of it. Near by structures began to break apart and were sucked through the gap, the concrete of the road was being torn up and dead corpses in the streets soon followed.

The sickly red forms of Blood Letters dashed with terrifying speed at the Imperial line. The guardsmen were to afraid and shocked to even raise their weapons, and so the daemons crashed into them with unmatchable ferocity and blood lust. They raised their Hellblades as one, and felled them into their mortal victims. Scores of men were reduced to piles of gore in a singe instant, but that was not the end. The Blood Letters continued to hack their way into the Imperial ranks, cutting down all who stood ahead of them. Some threw themselves to the ground and pretended to be dead, hoping to escape the slaughter. But they were crushed under the bloody hoofs of the daemons as they advanced over them.

The daemon hoard was not huge. But they easily outnumbered the Imperial Guard, and would reduce them to nothing in a matter of minutes. Behind them came the traitors of the Space Marines, clad in deep red armour and formed into units, they were the Word Bearers. They stood back from the carnage, walking almost casually from the warp with their weapons slung over their shoulders. Deep laughter could be heard from under their helmets, their hidden eyes scanning over the carnage with delight and amusement.

The leader among them, a Lieutenant of Chaos, stood in the middle of their ranks. In one clawed gauntlet he held a long power sword, the other free to cast the twisted psychic powers of chaos. He gazed about himself, perceiving everything around him in perfect detail. His vision was in red, as it would be for all time. The thousands of years of carnage and blood shed enough to paint any mans world in red, and perpetual darkness.

Lucien watched the vicious slaughter from atop his building, which had luckily been far enough away from the tear into the warp to sustain any real damage. The radical Inquisitor watched the events below him with great pleasure, cackling like a lunatic at the screams of the Guardsmen. The mutants had even gathered again into another hoard and attempted to rejoin the carnage. But the Blood Letters did not differentiate between them and the Imperials, and all who came in range of their violent daemons were cut down.

Lucien then spotted the Lieutenant, who stood centered amongst his men starring up at the Inquisitor. Lucien smiled at his cold gaze, nodding his head slowly.

'Join me.' A voice spoke in Lucien's head, and he would obey.



Inquisitor Liechtenstein roared in zealous fury and horror! Had emerged from the sewage tunnels through a man hole close to the main Imperial line, but only to find it in ruin. He watched the Blood Letters go about their gory work, to shocked to take any immediate course of action. His eyes then turned and he spotted the traitors, standing calmly and watching the blood shed as if it were some form of sick entertainment. Irrational thoughts filled the Inquisitors head, but he fought them back with what strength he could. He had to clear his mind, and think of a reasonable course of action. Thus far neither daemons nor the traitors had spotted him, so he had the element of surprise for the moment, but he had to choose a target wisely.

Attack the daemons, and he could destroy a score of them in a single flick of his wrist. But he would be deathly outnumbered afterwards, and not everyone in his retinue were warriors. On the other hand, if he charged the traitors he could hack half of them down before they realized he was upon them.They did not outnumber him as much either, and a small unit of them stood close by.

With another zealous roar of rage, Liechtenstein raised his power sword into the air!

"They dare to show their treacherous faces here, do they?" The Inquisitor cried. "They have chosen a bad day to defy the Emperor! They must be cleansed!"

"Is any day a good day to defy the Emperor?" Rogers asked comically, before hoisting up his Hell gun.

With a righteous fury burning in his heart, and a poisenous hatred flowing swiftly through his veins, Inquisitor Liechtenstein charged! Just before he reached the traitors unit, he outstretched his hand and once more reached into the warp. This time his iron mind did not fail him, and the power worked. Blue sparks of fury shot up his arm and burst from his fingertips in dazzling arcs of psychic energy. They struck the traitor marines and vaporized several of them before the rest were scorched by Zane's Brazier of Holy Fire. Liechtenstein then crashed into the survivors, brandishing his power sword in a zealous rage and cutting down two more of the marines. Rogers attempted to take down a third with a point blank shot from his weapon, but the traitors armour was not punctured.

Now aware of his presence, the Chaos Space Marines raised their own guns and tried to counter attack. But none could stand against the righteous fury of the Inquisitor, his form glowing with his passionate loathing of them. Liechtenstein cut down the last of the traitors, before shouting at his squad for the retreat. Within a blink of an eye, Liechtenstein had disappeared once again into the sewers to escape the retaliation of his enemy. He left nothing behind but the cleansed corpses of the traitors and heretics.


To Be Continued...



VII

"There are less than we expected." Commented the Chaos Lieutenant, watching the carnage before him. "They will be displeased if their blood lust is not satisfied. And that is not good for us or you, Lucien!"

"That is hardly my problem." The radical protested, not intimidated. "If you had arrived earlier, you have had far more to slaughter! But fear not, there is more on the way."

"There had better be." The Lieutenant snapped, his voice gruff under his helmet. "We have long sought the revenge that you promised us, Inquisitor! If you fail to deliver it, we will vent our fury upon you and your freak show instead!"

Lucien laughed, displaying his long fangs. Though the Chaos Space Marine was a good half a foot taller than him, if not more, the Inquisitor found his threats and taunts boring. He admired the black sense of humour the Lieutenant had, and respected the obvious thousands of years of blood shed and violence such a warrior must have seen. But he did not fear the Lieutenant, and knew that his treacherous breaths were numbered.

"You will have you fill before the day has ended!" Lucien said, watching the
slaughter in front of him with disinterest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucien could see Seyton. He could feel his Acolyte seething, a pent up rage ready to be unleashed churning in the boy's chest. He had been in the dark about Lucien's true intent this entire time, and now he had learned that his master had made a secret pact with traitor marines! Distrust and anger consumed Seyton's mind, his black gaze stabbing directly as his master like daggers. Betrayed, the Acolyte felt, at not being told what Lucien had actually come for. Even with the Chaos Space Marines present, what did Lucien hope to achieve? He had admitted that he did not expect the Hive to fall, and though the daemons slaughtered the imperial soldiers in droves, reinforcements would arrive in a matter of hours to hold the line. There were certainly not enough daemons or traitor marines to take the entire Hive on their own. Still, Seyton knew nothing!

"My Lord!" Cried an approaching Word Bearer, his dark red armour spattered with blood.

"What is this?" Demanded the Lieutenant in a roar. "I said that no one was to join the battle until my word!"

"I have not killed, my Lord!" Shouted the Word Bearer, shrinking under his masters wrath. "We found a unit of our own, dead! They lie in a heap several hundred metres in the direction I came from!"

"What?" Hissed the Lieutenant. "They were murdered?"

Lucien's eyes were wide at this news, excitement building in his chest. He turned to face his Mystic, who shook his head under his masters gaze. The radical then put two and two together, his expression turning ugly as he spat in disgust.

"It must have been that Inquisitor." Lucien said calmly. "He killed your men."

"An Inquisitor!" Roared the Lieutenant, rounding on Lucien and raising his gauntlet menacingly. Seyton could not help but to smile at how small his master looked under the death gaze of the Space Marine. "You said nothing about an Inquisitor, Lucien!"

"Well I didn't know they had the means to summon an Inquisitor, now did I?" Lucien snapped back. "He arrived after we did! The poor bugger is probably wetting himself now, scared half to death at your sudden appearance!"

"Your kind do not scare easily!" The Lieutenant said flatly. "Especially when they have faith in your false Emperor!"

He, and few other traitor marines, all spat at the Emperor's mention.

"Calm yourself, good sir!" Lucien said, his voice melting into smooth reassurance. "He is but a fly before your notice! We have stripped him of his army, and he will not dare challenge you when you are surrounded by so many soldiers! Keep yourself focused on your own prize! I will deal with this, Inquisitor!"

"Then I have your word that he will be dead before the day is out?" The Lieutenant asked.

"If you wish, I will bring his mangled corpse before your feet!' Lucien stated, his voice almost seductive.

The radical then bowed low, and took his leave of the traitor marines. He walked away, his retinue following him closely down a side alley of the Hive's city.

"Your orders, my Lord?" Asked Lucien's Sage, shuffling behind him.

"Find any rebels still alive and with an intact gang!" Lucien barked. "I want this Inquisitor located, and followed. I want to know exactly where he is, and what he's doing!"

"Of course, my Lord." The Sage muttered, going immediately to work.

"What do you think he'll do next?" Seyton asked, catching up to Lucien.

"Likely call for reinforcements!" The radical said "He was a fool to attack the Chaos Marines! He would have been forgotten otherwise, but he just had to go do something bothersome and now he's a dead man!"

"Respectfully, who will do the honours?" Seyton asked with a smile.

"As I have promised you Seyton, you will be sated before this is over!" Lucien said. "But for now, I want my Daemonhost!"



Inquisitor Liechtenstein slumped against a concrete wall, sliding down to rest on a metal box. He was exhausted from his combat with the traitor marines, his limbs aching with the effort it took to slay such enemies. But his mind pained him much worse. In his over zealous state, he had delved deeper into the powers of the warp than what he had meant to, and was now suffering for it. His head throbbed with a migraine, and his vision was not perfect. Though he would be fine in only a few moments, the Inquisitor needed to rest and recount everything that had just happened.

He and his retinue were in a dirty and broken alley, the cement at their feet was cracked and the windows smashed. Rubbish and junk filled the alley way, and the corpse of an old beggar filled the air with the foul stench of rot. They were situated well and truly behind the Imperial lines, hopefully hidden amongst the myriads of the city in case the line failed. Liechtenstein truthfully did not have much hope, and he had long ago ordered his Sage to make contact with the Hive's senators and call for immediate reinforcements from all available resources.

The Inquisitor knew that with the presence of the true traitors of the Imperium, moral would be shot amongst the Imperial Guardsmen. Victory, and indeed salvation today, would rely on the faith and courage of those brave men who up held the Imperium of man! Liechtenstein knew it would be up to him to inspire this faith, and he would not fail his soldiers. All traitors, mutants and heretics present would know Liechtenstein's name by the end of the day, and remember it for the rest of their pathetic lives. Especially the radical, who's mere presence made Liechtenstein's blood boil with rage.

As the Inquisitor sat there, he imagined the face of Lucien. He remembered the blank expression the young angular face had adopted for its profile shot, and he compared it to the face that he had seen through the eyes of his servo skull. Both were so similar, yet so different. The younger Lucien had been gifted with deep brown eyes, his hair short and well kept. He had looked so innocent and ignorant to the dangers of the galaxy, and how it could change a person. Perhaps that's what turned him away from the Emperor, and twisted him into what he was today. The ignorance of knowledge is an uncomfortable feeling, and many men are pushed to great lengths in an attempt to destroy their ignorance. Sadly some go down darker and more twisted paths than some, and only the cleansing of their souls can redeem them. Liechtenstein was truly sad to acknowledge that this was one of those times.

Putting his head back against the wall, his eyes closed, he began to meditate and call on the Emperor for strength. He would need all the power and righteous fury he could get for the conflict ahead of him. And so pray he did, for himself and for his retinue, and for all those who would die today. But he especially prayed for those already dead, and that their souls would find eternal rest.

"My lord!" Spoke Zane suddenly, an urgency in his voice.

"What is it Zane?" Liechtenstein asked, frowning but keeping his eyes closed.

"Listen!"

Liechtenstein listened, and for a moment heard nothing but the sounds of battle. Then it came to him. An all to familiar sound, that was far to close!

Thump, thump, thump.



To Be Continued...

VIII


Liechtenstein was on his feet in an instant, his green power sword crackling with energy in his right hand. His mind had already begun to clear, and his weariness forgotten as his zealous fury built once more in his chest. The corners of his mouth curled into a snarl, the Inquisitor trying to focus his mind into the task at hand.

Rogers had hoisted up his hell gun, and Zane held his Brazier close.

"That mutant again, my lord?" Rogers asked, his eyes scanning the alley on both sides. The sounds of the foul creatures steps echoed, and it was impossible to tell which direction it was coming from.

"That is no mere mutant!" Liechtenstein spat. "This is a heresy like no other! A disgusting creation of that demented freak!"

"A Daemonhost, my lord." Spoke Zane, his leather bound book open in his hand.

"Indeed, Zane." Liechtenstein nodded. "A Daemon, bound to a mortal body of flesh and blood!"

"Sucks to be that guy." Rogers commented.

"You all must understand, that this is a powerful warp creature!" Liechtenstein exclaimed. "Brought into our universe through a host body! Capable of existing here without suffering instability!"

"Like a Daemon vessel?" Rogers asked.

"No!" Zane shouted at his counterpart, appalled at his lack of intellect. "Both the Daemon and the host are bound together forcefully! It gives all its powers to the host, but is unable to manifest into a true greater daemon!"

"My apologies." Rogers said uncaring to the priest. "I didn't realize there was such a large difference between one freak and the next!"

All the time they had been speaking, the sounds of the Daemonhost coming closer had continued and gotten louder. Still, it could not be seen or ascertained which direction it came from. Rogers and Liechtenstein paced the alleyway with their weapons raised, preparing themselves for when the heinous creature showed itself.

It did not take long. The Daemonhost dropped from a building into the alleyway with a heavy thud, straightening itself instantly despite falling a good hundred feet. The changes it had suffered since Liechtenstein had last encountered it were horrifying, and it was evident that the daemon was slowly taking more and more control of its host. No longer did it look like a mere corpse, despite the end of its limbs turning black with rot. The sunken human eyes were replaced with blood red serpentine orbs, which glared with an insatiable hunger for flesh! It hunched forward heavily, its back black and blistered from where it had been scorched before. Broken bones punctures the skin along its arms, legs and back, but they had now taken new form as deadly razors and blades. A third arm had begun to grow out from under the left, ending in a hideous claw. When it opened its mouth and twisted it into a malicious grin of delight, it displayed long broken and deadly fangs protruding from black gums.

Liechtenstein looked at this pitiful creature with disgust and rage, raising his power sword and preparing himself to slay it. But before he could give a command, Rogers raised his hell gun and fired at the Daemonhost. The creature leaped into the air and straight at the Storm Trooper, ignoring the las bolts that singed its skin. One long arm shot out and gripped the front of Rogers chest, the other griping at his arm and lifting him off of his feet. The Storm Trooper was thrown hard into a concrete wall, the broken shield on his back protecting his spine. But with Rogers out of the way, nothing stood between the Daemonhost and Liechtenstein.

The Inquisitor cried in rage, stepping forward and twisting his power sword in wide arcs. The Daemonhost attacked again, trying to get a grip on Liechtenstein's face. Its claws were parried however, and the Inquisitor severed one of its bony limbs with a strategically placed strike. The Daemon shrieked and jumped away a safe distance, but turned to face its enemy when it gained footing. It would not be beaten so easily this time!

Zane tried to step in, waving his Brazier about as if to scare away a wild beast. The Daemonhost did not back down however, and simply reached out to grab the staff that the fire burned from. It tried to tear the Brazier from Zane's grasp, but the zealot held on with all his might and was pulled along with it. He was tossed aside like a bothersome obstacle, standing between the Daemonhost and his target. But Liechtenstein was glad that nothing stood between him and smiting this fell being, his power sword crackling with the same rage that he himself felt.

"Come, you abomination!" Liechtenstein whispered.

As if following his command, the Daemonhost launched another attack! It swiped at the Inquisitor's chest, attempting to bury its claws there. But Liechtenstein stepped back clasping its arm in his gauntlet and thrusting his sword right through the Daemonhost's middle. It cried out in pain, wreathing as the energy of the power sword burnt its flesh like a hot iron. But was no mortal being, and it was not yet destroyed! It reached forward to grab the Inquisitor's face, who was forced to withdraw his blade and retreat. The Daemonhost did not back off however, and flung itself at Liechtenstein's back. It clung to his body with its claws, and bit into the Inquisitor's shoulder with its razor teeth.

The Inquisitor cried out, pushing his elbow into the Daemonhost to try and loosen its grip on him. But it refused to let go, despite the Inquisitor driving his arm into its gut again and again. Deciding after a moment that another course of action was necessary, the Inquisitor drove his mind into the warp to call upon its frightening power. A moment of concentration was all that was needed before the air seethed with crackling energy, twisting uncontrollably until Liechtenstein took command of it and bent it to his means. The Daemonhost screamed as its body was electrified, and sprung from the Inquisitor like he was alight with burning flames. Its body was raked with white sparks and pain, and it took a moment before it could regain control of itself.

When it was back on its feet, and facing Liechtenstein again, the Inquisitor could see the extend of the damage he had caused. More of the mortal flesh had been blasted from the Daemonhost's body, leaving black gore and new appendages already growing out of wounds. Its stab wound crawled with small slimy tentacles, like something inside the corpse longed to break out! The true nature of the daemon was also beginning to show, the revealed bone becoming black and glossy. The various razors and blades protruding from the body became harder, and looked more lethal than ever!

"Fall down!" Liechtenstein hissed. "You stubborn fiend!"

The Daemonhost reared, bringing itself as high as it could. Its limbs outstretched, and its mouth opened to emit a terrifying cry of challenge. It looked like an incarnation of death itself, the mortal flesh hanging loosely like gory rags. Its mere appearance made Liechtenstein's position look grim, but not once did the Inquisitor look away or falter in his pride and faith. He would slay this creature if it was the last thing he did, and silently he made this vow to himself.

Only one sound escaped his lips after that, barely a whisper. "Purge!"

The Inquisitor reached out with a gauntlet, trying to call upon his psychic power once more. But this time it failed him, his concentration broken by an unknown force and clouding his minds eye. This moment of distraction was taken advantage of, and the Daemonhost attacked once again, more viciously than ever before! It swiped at Liechtenstein's head, its blows deflected by the Inquisitor's force field. But Liechtenstein was still forced to give ground, backing away quickly with his sword pointed at the creatures chest. When it came in range again he swung the blade in a wide arc, missing, but only by centimetres. He swung when the Daemonhost attacked again, this time hitting but failing to do any real damage to it.

The creatures reaction times were astounding, and there was little possibility that a human could keep up with it. Its black teeth were twisted into a demented smile as it toyed with its prey, wearing it down before going in for the killing strike. The Daemon inside the body knew that it had its victim against the ropes, and it was only a matter of time before Liechtenstein collapsed from exhaustion. But pride, zealous rage and sense of duty kept the Inquisitor on his feet, and he would not surrender to such a creature.

He raised his sword to hack at its leg as it passed him, missing by a greater margin than before. He stumbled, his armour suddenly feeling heavy. He felt the Daemonhost slam into him, knocking him to the ground. It then towered above its prey, preparing to bite down on Liechtenstein's neck and ending his life! This did not happen however, as the Daemonhost unexpectedly burst into brilliant flames. It screamed in agony, its body twisting like a snake in the fire! The last of the human flesh was burnt off, revealing a black skeletal structure covered in sickly living red gore. It pulsed with the energies of the warp, and though the fire burnt at it, it would not destroy it! All the same Zane stood behind it, cackling like a zealous maniac as the fire of his Brazier swept forth!

Summoning the last reserve of strength and righteous flame, Liechtenstein forced himself to his feet. He held the grip of his sword tightly, preparing it for the sacred task it was about to endeavour on.

"In the name of the holy Emperor!" Liechtenstein cried, plunging his sword deep into the Daemonhost's centre. It screech pierced the ears of all who were in range, and would be heard from miles around! The Inquisitor the withdrew his blade, and in a quick sweep cut the Daemonhost's head from its body! The otherworldly cry stopped at once, and its smouldering remains fell to the alleyway floor before turning into ashes.

Liechtenstein then immediately slumped against the closest wall, sheathing his sword and sliding to the ground. He was panting, his mind raked with pain and his limbs burning. He would refuse to move if asked, his body not allowing it any further!

"We did it!" Zane cheered, his voice still ringing like a maniac. "We sent that unholy beast straight back to the hell it came from!"

"Good job." Rogers grunted, struggling to his feet. "I thought you said that it wasn't going to manifest into a full daemon!"

"It was pretty close." Liechtenstein agreed, still trying to catch its breath. "But a fully emerged greater daemon would not have been slayed so easily, my friend."

"Easily?" Rogers asked, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like you had your work cut out for you, sir."

"The work on the Emperor is never complete while mutants and heretics survive!" Liechtenstein proclaimed.

Marking his words, a particularly loud explosion tore through the air from the sounds of the near by battle. Cries of distant men followed it, and it became clear that something had just happened. For good or bad, was unknown.

"What now?" Liechtenstein breathed.



To Be Continued...



IX


"Boom!" shouted Lucien, as orange flames tore into the sky from the broken husk of a Lemun Russ. The fire devoured the shouting guardsmen that were crowded around the vehicle, and even the Daemon's of Khorne were not safe from the burning fuel and ammunition that was thrown in every direction. The brilliant flames rose into the air until they dissipated into black smoke, leaving the scattered remains of the tank deep in a crater.

Lucien cackled like a mad man, taking delight in the destruction and carnage! He watched the slaughter through his red eyes, perceiving every drop of blood with a look of greed before it fell to the ground. The sounds of screaming and stench of death washed over the Radical like a cleansing energy, arousing every urge and sensation to kill that he had. But still he stayed his hand, knowing that to enter the fray now would be foolish and potentially fatal. Though his hands twitched and withdrawals swept through his body, he refused to be lured to his doom.

The Inquisitor and his retinue stood rather close to the fighting now, watching it keenly from the top of a short and broken structure. Though they had looked upon it in disinterest earlier, the closer they came to the carnage the more they longed to fight. Seyton felt this instinct almost as badly as his master, but did not have the self control that Lucien was gifted with. Still he did not understand why his master held him back, and the answer it seemed was going to elude him until it grand revealing. Seyton had tried to accept this, but his frustration had not ebbed, only adding to his blood lust.

"How much longer?" Seyton had demanded earlier, only to take a sharp smack across the face from Lucien.

"Infinite ingrate!" Lucien had cursed. "I tire of you relentless efforts to question me! Now shut up before I take you as a substitute to feed my own longing for flesh!"

Knowing that his master was pained by being denied the chance to kill had soothed Seyton to an extent. He wondered how much long Lucien could last without the taste of blood, knowing full well of his masters cravings and need for the life fluid of others.

"My Lord." Spoke Lucien's Mystic, reviving Seyton from his thoughts. "My Lord, your Daemonhost is...well its-"

"Dead." Lucien finished the sentence. "I know, I felt its presence dissipate a few moments ago. It was likely destroyed by my loyalist counterpart."

"You know?" The Mystic seemed surprised, but then hastily tried to hide it.

"You took that well." Seyton commented with a snort. "When Leiden was killed by the Eldar you looked murderous, my Lord."

"I know." Lucien sighed, as if recalling old memories. "But Leiden was one of a kind. It just had something that my less grueling experiments will never have!"

"And what is that, my Lord?" Seyton asked.

"A name." Lucien pointed out, almost comically. Seyton laughed coldly, enjoying his masters simple sense of humour.

"Besides." Lucien continued. "That puppet Inquisitor will get his just desserts soon enough. Every second he lives is one less until he meets a rather disastrous end."

"You have something in mind?" Seyton asked, clasping his cruel gauntlets together.

"No." Lucien admitted. "But I'm sure I'll think of something, soon enough."

The two of them then fell silent, turning their attention once more to the battle at hand. Things were not looking good for the Imperials, as the mass of Blood Letters had now almost entirely hacked apart their ranks. Flesh Hounds ripped apart fresh remains, feasting on the blood and flesh of the fallen men. They liked the crimson fluid that pooled on the ground, and fought with each other for the biggest share of the rotting corpses. Blood Letters danced around the flames of destroyed vehicles, their guttural howls rising into the air with the orange tongues of fire. It seemed that the Guardsmen would all be dead in mere moments, only a few left standing now, and attempting to mount a failing resistance.

Lucien knew that reinforcements would be on the way to attempt to quell the threat of chaos. But their efforts would prove very ineffective, unless they came under the command of one who could not only coordinate them effectively, but instill a zealous and vengeful rage within them. Someone who would demand utmost loyalty and bravery in his men to face the horrifying Daemons of chaos. Lucien laughed quietly to himself, knowing that the only person who met this description was most likely crippled at the bottom of an alley or some dark tunnel in the sewers.

"I am bored." Lucien spoke eventually. "I really wish that those darn pointy eared hooligans would hurry up!"

"What?" Demanded Seyton suddenly, his eyes going wide at his masters words.

"They are here, my Lord!" Spoke the Mystic. "Your wait has ended!"



Major Bardock lied on his back, his eyes staring blankly into the dark abyss above him. He knew that his legs were missing, and the entire right side of his body was burnt so badly that he could no longer turn his head or move his black charred arm. He was soaked in the blood of his brothers and the blood from his own veins, which had been spilled mercilessly and cruelly. The Major's entire body was engulfed in agonizing pain, his mind screaming out. It threatened to consume all his thoughts, pushing him into a state of mind where nothing existed but his own tortured cries. He could not open his mouth to cry out, as his lips were melted together. Helpless he was, forced to sit through the suffering until slowly he died.

As he lay there, flashes of the battle still swept through his mind. He remembered watching the red skinned Daemons crash into his mens ranks, hacking them apart mercilessly and with sickening grins on their faces. They relished in the spilling of innocent blood it seemed, and nothing could stop their senseless slaughter. The Imperial Guard had tried to fight back, but they were helpless against the rusted blades and brute force of such creatures. They fell in their hundreds, and Bardock remembered the panic rising in his chest as they had come closer to him. He had tried to fight like his comrades, raising his powersword and charging at the devils. But he had been cut down immediately with the spray of his own blood, his sword now broken and buried under bodies beside him. He had tried to get up and fight on, madness taking him at that point. But there had been an explosion close by that had knocked him back to the ground, the orange flames setting him alight and burning his flesh.

It was then that Bardock had given in. He had succumbed to despair and weakness, crushed by his own mortality and lack of strength against such Daemons. The Major had tried to wipe these thoughts away, trying to think of something else. But he had found himself filled with only more grief, for he would never see his family, or friends again. His wife and child were lost to him. His brothers at arms, and the strength of the Imperial Guard meant nothing now. And finally, Major Bardock thought of how sad it was that, that the last thing he would ever see was darkness of the hive above him.

This dark portent did not come true, however. Dazzling bright light suddenly filled the Major's field of vision, as if the heavens had opened up to welcome him. In his state of confusion, he wondered if the Emperor himself had come to rescue him. But it was not the Emperor who stood over his body, but a brilliant figure clad all in white. It was an angel, Bardock decided, who had come down from the heavens to receive his soul. The Angel was garbed in white robes that shone so pure it was impossible to imagine death or decay ever touching it. In one slender hand it held a deadly but elegant looking spear, a great sword of bone in the other. It's wrists were adorned with sparkling gold, and upon its breast it wore a runic shaped armour plate. Its face was hidden behind a white mask of tears, a face that mourned the dead.

'Do not be afraid, human.' A voice spoke gently to Bardock. 'For I have come to receive you. Unburden yourself of this weak flesh, and be free once more!'

A feeling of warmth came over the Major's body, and slowly he closed his eyes and died in a state of peace.

The Eldar gazed down at the human for only a moment longer, before raising its head to look about the decadence surrounding it. It perceived the sickening forms of the Blood Letters, who stood before it shielding their eyes from its splendor and glory. Rage stirred in the Eldar's heart at the sight of such creatures, and the runes adorning its body began to shine brighter as they wreathed and burnt with fury. The grip the Eldar had on its sword grew tighter, and it lifted its spear before the blade facing skyward as a sign of aggression and defiance against the twisted forces of Chaos.

This was Ethandel Iyaarl, Seer of the Corannir, and the Bringer of Light into the dark places of the galaxy!

'Fly before the immortal fury of Khaine!' The Eldar cried, his voice echoing throughout the hive. 'You have no place here, fell Daemons! Fly before my face or be struck down by those you once plighted!'

His form seemed to grow brighter with every word, and the Daemons sneered and backed away, hissing in anger. The traitor marines, who stood a fair way back, only laughed at the Eldar's threat however. They pointed at the lone figure, and threw their heads back in hysterics. This did not seem to deter the Eldar however, for he lifted his spear a second time, the tip shining like a beacon.

For only a moment longer did Ethandel stand alone, for the barriers between the warp and the material world were once more diminished to allow passage to the brave sons of Khaine. Brilliant light shone from the warp gates, further blinding the Daemons as their foes swept forth as one. But the warriors that emerged were not white, but clad in armour of pure black. Their weapons shone silver, and runes of death, anger and mourning hung from their belts. Their faces were not painted with tears, but rather looks of deep loathing and rage for the Daemons and traitors before them. These were the Morag-Kith, the exorcists!



To Be Continued...



X

Lucien grinned broadly as he watched the black clad Eldar warriors burst forth from the warp and smash into the ranks of Blood Letters. The blood shed was immense when the two forces crashed together. It was impossible not to admire the fighting powers of both sides, the Eldar dancing and twirling their weapons in graceful deadly arcs that cut into the Daemon flesh and banished them back into hell. The Blood Letters however showed amazing displays of strength, cutting down two or three unfortunate Eldar warriors in a single sweep of their axes.

The Radical watched this battle with delight, watching the two forces effectively eliminate each other. There were to few Eldar to truly prevail over the creatures of chaos, yet they fought with such ferocity that the Daemons numbered began to dwindle at a surprising speed. As he watched, Lucien could swear that the Blood Letters movement seemed to grow sluggish and cumbsy, giving the Eldar an advantage that meant they could strike and kill like lightning before ducking out of the way of a retaliation.

"Pixie tricks." Snorted the Inquisitor, before turning to Sage. "I hope you are recording everything as I ordered?"

"Yes, my Lord!" The Sage replied, his eyes fixed squarely on the battle.

"How did you know that the Eldar would show?" Seyton asked, grabbing Lucien's attention.

"The Imperium is blind!" Lucien said. "They claim that the Eldar are fickle and capricious. But quite frankly they are very predictable, particularly when you know what makes them tick."

"And you know?" Seyton pressed.

"These Eldar are the same that attacked us at Gunther's research station." Lucien spoke. "There was very little in the Imperial records that match his particular sect perfectly, but there were hints and clues that pointed to a fighting force of Eldar similar to this one. Space Marine Librarians being assassinated, Chaos fleets being destroyed in mid space by a mysterious force! But the most intriguing was a report from Vantir, which was a world close to the Eye that came under attack from Word
Bearers."

Seyton looked at the traitor marines who stood only a hundred meters or so away. They stood prepared for battle, their weapons raised and pointed at the fighting directly in front of them. They did not move though, as if they were waiting for something before joining the fray between the Eldar and the Blood Letters.

"The traitor marines attack was broken after a force of Eldar seemingly appeared out of thin air and fought against the Daemons!" Lucien said. "I do not have time to give you a full account of the details, but it was my belief that they were the same Eldar that you see before you! They call themselves, the exorcists."

"Hunters of the darkness." Seyton nodded. "You lured them here using the traitors to study them."

"Indeed!" Lucien said, delighted. "It has finally clicked with you, boy!"

"Yes, master." Seyton grinned, unable to deny Lucien's cunning logic. "Your hoping that the Eldar will destroy the Chaos Space Marines. Then, if the other Inquisitor is eliminated, there will be no evidence still linking you to this planet."

"Precisely!" Lucien laughed. "I'm glad to hear that you still have brains between your ears, my young Acolyte!"

"Then we must hunt the Inquisitor!" Seyton said, turning to look at his master.

"We must indeed." Lucien agreed. "He is weak now, and though he may be well protected he will be no match for me!"

Lucien then turned to his Sage, who was still recording everything that it saw.

"Take note of everything!" Lucien ordered. "The way they move, their unit make up, everything!"

"Of course, my Lord." The Sage said, without moving.

"Lets go." Lucien then turned back to Seyton. "The rest of you stay here, Seyton and I are going hunting. Its puppet season!"



Liechtenstein sat inside his rhino transport, feeling only marginally better than he had in the alley way. His head hurt tremendously, and his vision was still bleary. Luckily he could see through the eyes of his Servo Skull, but this was barely a comfort. His wounds had been bandaged under his power armour, and though they had been minor compared to what could have happened, the Inquisitor's chest ached from broken ribs.

"That was truly inspiring!" Zane would constantly say, referring to Liechtenstein's battle. The Priest had always been in awe of his master. To Liechtenstein's half amusement half agitation, Zane would constantly place accolades and heap praise upon him. Even when the Inquisitor had only done something minor, the Priest would be on about it for months, and every deed of Liechtenstein's was recorded in the back of the Priest's leather bound book.

"You didn't do to badly yourself." Liechtenstein spoke, trying to humble Zane and quieten him. "Now please be silent, I must think."

Though he was in pain, the Inquisitor's mind was still firmly set on the work that had to be done. He knew that the Imperial line would not last against the mass of Daemons. They were being slaughtered in scores, the blood of good men spilled for seemingly no purpose. Reinforcements were on their way, but unless they arrived in the next few hours they would be forced to make a new defensive line on a higher level of the Hive. This would mean leaving more civilians out in the cold to be killed, and the higher levels were not as open. There would be less room for maneuvering troops and tanks, and less room to fire ranged weaponry.

Running this all through his mind again, Liechtenstein found it difficult to come up with an alternative plan that could result in a more favorable outcome. The thing that really got on the Inquisitor's nerves however, was that he could not work out why. What was the purpose behind all this? What dark goal would be achieved from the killing of thousands?

It had been the radical's presence that had caused the mutant uprising and rebellion. It had been his filthy mouth that had turned the Imperium's own people against it, his silver tongue buying their souls with promises of glory and rising out of decadence. Liechtenstein also had little doubt that it had been this radical who had invited traitor marines and Daemons to share in the carnage. But what reasons he had behind this were still a mystery.

Why? why? why? WHY!

This question flashed through Liechtenstein's mind, and threatened to drive him insane as the answer eluded him.

"Sir?" Asked Rogers, drawing Liechtenstein out of the depths of his mind.

"What is it Rogers?" The Inquisitor asked.

"I'm getting some, well, interesting reports from the Sage." Rogers said. "One Private Hamish Jacobs tells us that their all dead. Every single Imperial soldier is down, and that the line is broken."

Liechtenstein bowed his head in reverence for the dead, grief creeping into his heart for the dead.

"But that's not all." Rogers spoke. "Apparently more warp gates have opened inside the combat area."

"Reinforcements." Liechtenstein sighed.

"Incorrect, sir." Rogers said. "Eldar. The xenos have appeared on the battle field and engaged the forces of Chaos."

Liechtenstein's eyes shot wide open, and he found that he could see perfectly. He looked up to exchange surprised looks with Zane, before turning his head to look at Rogers. The Storm Trooper sat next to the Sage, listening to the incoming vox report.

"Replay it!" Liechtenstein ordered the Sage. A voice filled the Rhino's compartment a moment later.

+++Everyone is dead! We've been totally cut down..*static*..I repeat, the line is broken! The line is broken!...wait a moment...what the hell?..*static*..holy f..*static*..Xenos! Xenos have engaged the enemy! I repeat, Eldar have engaged the enemy and the line is not broken! We require immediate reinforcements from anyone who copies! Immediate reinforcements are..*static*.....+++

Liechtenstein had listened had listened to the entire message in astonishment. He felt relief flood through him that the line was not yet broken, yet his mind became clouded but yet another question. Why had the Eldar come to the aid of Imperials? What goal did they hope to achieve?

"Replay the message again!" Liechtenstein ordered. Something about it had caught his attention, though he wasn't quite sure what. "Play it slowly. Really slowly!"

+++We've been totally cut down...'Come human! You are needed!'...I repeat, the line is broken! The line is broken!...wait a moment...what the hell?...'Take up your weapon, and stir your righteous fury against such hideous creatures once more!'...holy f...'Your time is nigh!'...+++

"Stop." Liechtenstein ordered. That second voice had not been human. "Turn the Rhino around. We're going back!"

"With all due respect, sir, but with what army?" Rogers objected.

"We will go back." Liechtenstein ordered, his tone hardening. "It is time that these heretics and traitors truly learnt the penalty of defying the Emperor!"

"Ok then." Rogers surrendered. "We're turning around."

The Storm Trooper got to his feet and walked into the cockpit to instruct the driver on his new orders. Liechtenstein meanwhile bowed his head and closed his eyes once more, the alien message playing through his head.



To Be Continued...

XI


Kore, disciple of the Chaos gods and Lieutenant of the Word Bearers. He had earned his rank after the Horus Heresy, rising to a position of leadership through great acts of carnage, loyalty and faith. He had gained favour in the eyes of his mighty Lord, Daemon Prince Gushnuke, for such deeds. His rewards had been great, yet not once did he falter on his path. To his allies he was renown for his determination, faith in the gods of Chaos and his ability to herd their legions of underlings. To his enemies he was a messenger of death, a dark angel that appeared bringing behind him a horde of suffering and misery embodied in chaos.

As he watched the Eldar leap from the warp and crash into the ranks of the Blood Letters, rage and vengeance burned in Kore's unholy veins. Something inside the Word Bearer stirred, a need to kill like no other. His hatred and loathing for the Eldar had no comparison, and it took quite a lot of self control to keep himself from rushing blindly into the depths of the battle.

Only fifty years earlier had Kore fought at the battle of Vantir, fighting to capture Fort Magma in the name of his unholy patrons. It had been under the leadership of Gushnuke that the Word Bearers had appeared on Vantire in force, bringing with them untold billions of daemons from the warp to claim the planet. It had been within their very grip, until the very last hour when the hated Eldar had shown themselves. They had had worked hard to push back the Chaos invasion, and though they were desperately outnumbered the destruction of Gushnuke's body signaled the retreat. The Daemon Prince had been destroyed, and though Kore insisted on fighting on the moral in his soldiers and the grip he had on the Daemons was greatly damaged. The defeat had been a crippling blow to Kore's belief in himself and his ability to lead, and though the mantle of Lord as Gushnuke's successor was his for the taking, he refused it. He vowed that he would not take such a title, until Gushnuke's murderers lay dead and his body was avenged!

"On my mark!" Ordered Kore, raising his arm into the air. His soldiers around him raised their boltguns, their deadly barrels pointing in the direction of the conflict between the Eldar and creatures of Chaos. "Fire only when enough Daemons lay slain for the Eldar to rush blindly at us! We will catch them as they charge forward, right into the centre of our firepower."

The battle between the Eldar and the Blood Letters raged on in front of Kore, the Eldar slowly gaining the upper hand. The shock of their initial charge had meant the banishment of scores of the Daemons, and left little room for a counter attack. They fought as if they were possessed, their war cries echoing with hatred and and zeal against the twisted creatures of the warp. Though the Blood Letters fought back, causing heavy casualties on the Eldar, they ultimately could not win. When at last only a handful of the Daemons remained compared to the Eldar, the call of the warp was far to strong for them to remain in the material world, and their bodies burst into fire reducing them to ashes.

The Eldar cried in victory, raising their weapons into the air in a show of quick
celebration before rushing forward again. They charged at lightning speeds towards Kore and the Word Bearers, faster than expected even for Eldar. Their movements were amazing, so graceful yet so quick.

Kore dropped his arm, signaling to his men to fire. But a split second before he did, there was a flash of light to the Lieutenant's right which stole his attention. Standing only a few paces from the Word Bearers stood a group of Eldar, large generators of some sort mounted on their backs. In their arms they held alien weaponry, which they fired as soon as they appeared. What looked like silver fluid shot from the ends of their rifles, yet it looked more like razor wire when it wrapped itself around a squadron of traitor marines. It seemed to his them with great force, pinning them to the ground as if they were caught under a heavy net, and slowly beginning to restrict them. The marines roared in fury as they struggled to get lose from their bonds, but the harder they tried to get free the tighter the wire held them. Within seconds their power armour began to crack under the strain, and the wire cut into revealed flesh. Another instant passed and nothing was left of the unit but a pile
of bloody corpses still lying under their trappings. Then the Eldar were gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

Kore had watched this entire proses in disgust, but the moment of distraction was enough for the Eldar to be upon him. Piercing screams erupted from the masks of the Eldar as they crashed into the Traitor Marines, their weapons singing for blood as they scythed through the air. Kore felt paralyzed by the sound, like a shock wave had passed through his body and forced him to recoil. But the Chaos Lieutenant recovered quickly, and raised his power sword in time to catch his first adversary right through her breast.

Within seconds both the Eldar and traitor marines were swept up in vicious and bloody combat, the ground soon swimming in crimson fluid and gore. The Space Marines had been more prepared for the assault than their Daemons had been, and fought with a greater zeal. Revenge burned in them like it did in their leader, and they had each sworn in the name of the Chaos Gods to avenge their former master.

"Crush them!" Kore cried in his fury. "Maim them beyond all recognition for what they did! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The Lieutenant fought in a wild frenzy, swinging his power weapon in every direction and catching anyone not quick enough to dart out of the way. He threw himself into where the fighting was thickest, smashing aside Eldar bodies and slaying entire groups of them at a time before seeking out a new enemy. His sword dripped with blood, and the fluid was spattered against his red armour. Like a tyrant he was, unchallenged in his insane slaughter.

Kore reached out for a new target, grabbing the arm of an Eldar warrior in his gauntlet. He pulled the xenos as hard as he could, swinging him into one of his comrades and crushing them both under each other. He then swung his sword to the left of him to cut the legs out from under an Eldar who had attempted to charge him from the side.

"Fly before your immortal fury?" Kore spat. "You are but weak fools under our
notice! You dare to defy us and take our leader? We will avenge him with the slaughter of your people one hundred fold!"

A tremendous cry rose from the Word Bearers, and they pushed an offence behind their Lieutenant. Though the Eldar fought with skill and loathing, their advantage in this battle began to slowly slip from their slender grasp.

Little did the Lieutenant know, but there was another who fought in this battle. One who watched him from a distance, waiting for an opportune time to strike forth, and slay the beast once and for all!



"Why have we stopped?" Demanded Liechtenstein, when his Rhino grounded to a slow halt. The sounds of battle could be heard through vents and view slots, but they still sounded far off.

"I'm not sure." Rogers said. "I'll go check."

The Storm Trooper stood up from his seat and made his way into the cockpit to investigate. Liechtenstein meanwhile closed his eyes, trying to continue his meditation until it was time once more for combat. He was interrupted almost immediately however, but not by Rogers.

"Hello?" Came a dry mocking voice from outside the Rhino. Liechtenstein knew who the speaker was immediately, his eye snapping open. "Is there anyone in there?"

"Get up!" Liechtenstein hissed to Zane, who sat opposite him. "We have a heretic to burn!"

Zane snatched up his Brazier of Holy Fire excitedly, following Liechtenstein as the access ramp began to lower and the Inquisitor dismounted his Rhino. His sword was already in his hands, its energies jolting up the blade. The Inquisitor's senses had suddenly come alive, the scent and voice of a heretic enough to rekindle the righteous fury in Liechtenstein once more. His face was twisted into a hideous snarl, and when he turned around the corner of his vehicle a twisted and despised creature entered his clear field of vision.

Lucien stood directly in front of the Rhino, a grin spread broadly across his face. His hands rested on his hips giving him an arrogant demeanour, and he stood as straight as possible. Liechtenstein took note of his power sword, which was sheathed at his side but within easy reach. Behind Lucien stood Seyton, who looked like a dark and menacing shadow swathed in his black robes, contrasting with his pale face and bald head.

"Inquisitor Joseph Liechtenstein, we meet at last!" Lucien bellowed.

The loyal Inquisitor could not believe how young Lucien looked. When he had first witnessed the radical through the eyes of his servo skull, Lucien had been in the heat of feeding and so had looked like a crazed mutant. Now however, his face looked young and charming. Almost handsome despite his crimson eyes and fangs, and he looked so young despite his file claiming his age to be at least three hundred years.

"What heresy is this?" Liechtenstein asked, seizing Lucien up. "What unholy rituals have you preformed upon your body?"

"I prefer not to start with life histories, for a first introduction." Lucien said, still beaming. "But allow me to make myself known. I am Inquisitor Adrien Lucien, and let me say how unhonoured I am to stand in the presence of such a pathetic puppet!" The last words of Lucien's phrase were almost shouted, despite the fact that he had bowed low.

"I need not tell you my name!" Liechtenstein spat. "It seems you know it already. But learn it well, for that name will be the doom of you and all you fell designs. You are a heretic, and a traitor. Under the law of the Ordo Hereticus, I am placing you under arrest for heresy and fell practices. Both punishable by your execution!"

"Oh, skip the formalities you young fool!" Lucien shouted, drawing his red blade at once.

"Very well." Liechtenstein spoke. "Then come and bow before me as I end your life, so that you may die with some dignity left!"

"Oh, you poor ignorant fool!" Lucien laughed, faking sympathy. "I am not here to redeem myself for the sake of your stupid laws. I am here to kill you!"

Lucien griped the hilt of his blade tightly, and Seyton looked threatening behind him.

"Very well." Liechtenstein said. "You choose your own fate then."

The Inquisitor raised his own blade. Zane could barely contain his excitement, and his book was already cracked open and recording everything he saw.

"Prepare to be purged." Liechtenstein whispered.



To Be Continued...



XII

Red was the colour Liechtenstein saw, as he looked into the eyes of his enemy. A deep, burning red that seemed to glare with a hatred and hunger. Those eyes, so alien, seemed to stare straight through Liechtenstein. It was as if his rival were not entirely looking at him, but through him and at the core of his very soul. The Inquisitor suddenly felt bare and naked, despite being clad in thick power armour and protected by a psychic hood.

But Lucien was not looking at Liechtenstein's soul, but at his beating heart which lay in his chest. Its low thumping echoing in the radical's ears, arousing him for battle and enticing all his senses. He traced where Liechtenstein's veins were in his mind, thinking of the hot liquid which rushed through them. Liechtenstein's heart rate quickened, and Lucien could smell his sweet fear.

"Perfect." The radical breathed to himself.

Liechtenstein blinked, and then Lucien was gone. The Inquisitor's lips parted in surprise, but he had no time to be awed by Lucien's rapid movements. The radical was upon him in another instant, swinging his crimson sword in a wide arc at Liechtenstein's throat. The attack was parried, but Liechtenstein was not entirely prepared for the force behind it. He gasped as the hilt of his sword shook violently, but there was no time for recovery as Lucien attacked again and again mercilessly. He had forced his loyal counterpart back several paces, causing Liechtenstein to lose ground at a frightening rate.

Lucien bared his teeth, displaying his frightening fangs. His warm breath smelt of blood, and it was almost enough to make Liechtenstein gag. The radical's long hair flew in all directions, and his skin seemed to stretched more than usual. His face had become like a hideous pale skull, his eyes blazing in their sockets and glaring at Liechtenstein's throat lustfully.

"Back, you disgusting freak!" Liechtenstein cried, smacking his enemies sword aside several times and gaining back some ground. "You are more than a heretic! You are a mutant, every breath you take a sin!"

"You are a pain in the arse!" Lucien retorted, his voice high pitched. "Now die!"

The two Inquisitor's fought for what seemed to them like hours. But neither could gain the upper hand or outsmart his opponent. Lucien's attack was vicious and merciless, as he exploited every single weakness in Liechtenstein's technique he could. This was to no avail for him, but it kept the loyalist working hard to keep to life. Liechtenstein was no feeble warrior, but he could not match up to the heretic's speed and agility. Though he was far younger than his quarry, he felt slow and clumsy comparatively. He parried each blow one at a time in seeming perfection, but his struggle was soon to become desperate.

"Feeling tired, I see." Lucien hissed after some time. "That old suit of armour beginning to feel heavy?"

Though he denied it and showed little signs of it, Liechtenstein was beginning to slow. He was still exhausted from his earlier battles, his headache returning and his reactions becoming clumsy. He fought on as hard as he could, his righteous zeal forcing him not to surrender under any circumstances. Fury and hatred for this heretic was alive within him, fueling his body and mind. But he could not fight on this alone, and Lucien seemed to know it. It was as if the radical could read even the slightest change in behaviour or slowing of pace.

Still, Liechtenstein fought on as best he could. He cried out as he and Lucien's swords met again. He pushed forward with his entire weight, forcing the radical onto the back foot. He then smacked the red blade aside and stabbed forth aiming at Lucien's chest. His attack was avoided however, and he had left himself open. Lucien took the opportunity and smashed Liechtenstein across the face with his fist. Blood flew from the loyalists cheek, and he sputtered as the fluid flowed into his mouth. The side of his face felt numb. Though he knew that a deep gash had been made there,
and the pain would soon follow. He retreated away from his enemy to try and recover, and this time he was not followed.

Lucien threw his head back in laughter, his high pitched cackling polluting the air.

"If only you'd been a split second faster!" The radical taunted. "But then again, even
if you had been fighting at your best you would not match up to me! I'm just too good for you, you pathetic waist of a mind!"

Liechtenstein only took a moment to regain his bearings, and spit to clear his mouth. He then raised his weapon once more and charged at Lucien, crying in rage. His furious assault had not taken the radical by surprise, but it still forced him back. He struck out again and again, wanting nothing more than to sink his weapon deep into Lucien's gut. But such a wish seemed improbably when Liechtenstein's weapon was whacked aside once again, and Lucien thrust his own blade into his opponent's leg.

Liechtenstein cried out in pain, blood spilling out over his power armour. Lucien however did not wait for the pain to settle in, and delivered another brutal punch to the Inquisitor's jaw. Liechtenstein fell onto his back, a sickening crack signalling the break of his jaw bone. He tried to bite through the pain, and rise once again. But Lucien twisted the hot blade in his leg and placed a foot on the Inquisitor's chest, forcing him back to the ground.

"You just can't win." Lucien said, as if he pitied the man laying before him. "You might have had a chance in another life my friend, but in this form you are weak! Your refusal to study all forms of death, all possibilities, all the facets that make up my power have made you like a child to me! Your undying love for your laws and morals are nothing to me, nor do they give you strength! Yet still you are willing to die for them. Such a shame."

Lucien spat on Liechtenstein's armour, then drew his sword from his leg. Liechtenstein cried out once more, but forced himself to speak back.

"Your days are numbered fiend!" The Inquisitor tried to mutter through a broken jaw. "If I can't kill you, then an Inquisitor far greater than I will!"

"You and your kind are so boring." Lucien frowned. "That is exactly what the last Inquisitor I killed said. And I am still waiting for this all powerful puppet to kill me! Its a shame you can't give me date."

There was a flicker than in Lucien's face. Liechtenstein couldn't be sure, but something in those crimson eyes had betrayed the radical for only a second. Something in his face had changed when Liechtenstein had uttered those obviously familiar words, and the Inquisitor suddenly realized why Lucien had fought so desperately to kill him.

'He fears me.'

"Now I'm sorry, my brief friend." Lucien said, holding the tip of his blade under Liechtenstein's chin. "But it is about time you died!"

The final stroke never fell however. In desperation Liechtenstein had uttered a silent order to Zane, through a psychic pick up. The priest had immediately repeated the order to Rogers who had been watching the fight from within the Rhino's hull. It was carried out immediately, and just as Lucien moved to end Liechtenstein's life, he looked up suddenly to see the Inquisitorial transport bearing down upon him.

"Tricky little bugger." Lucien breathed, before leaping away from Liechtenstein and out of the way of the tank.

Liechtenstein also managed to pull himself to his feet and duck to the side, but only narrowly escaping the Rhino's deadly treads. Liechtenstein then ran as fast as his wounded leg would allow to the access ramp of his vehicle, which was already lowered. He ducked inside the tank just as Rogers jumped out, gun raised. The Storm Trooper fired like a maniac at Lucien, who moved like a wraith to get away. Every shot went wide, not one finding its target.

Rogers then noticed a more pressing matter. As soon as his last words had left Zane's mouth, the heretic's Acolyte had moved to silence him. Seyton stood only a pace from the priest, his legs wide and his gauntlets curled into threatening fists. A look of extreme concentration was on his face, as if he was considering how to best disembowel his prey. Zane however was cackling as if he was having the time of his life, fending off the dark figure with his Brazier. He used it like a spear, the fire on the end burning circles in the air as the staff was twirled and stabbed froward.

Rogers raised his gun, taking careful aim before he fired. The shot did not hit his target in the head like he had hoped, but it did burn his side as the bolt pierced his robes. The Acolyte roared in pain and anger, rearing up and leaning his head back. Zane took the opportunity, as Rogers had hoped, to run. He bolted straight at his Storm Trooper comrade, then shot into the transport behind him. Rogers let off a few more rounds before retreating up the access ramp himself, and signaling to the driver.

"Get us the hell out of here!" Rogers demanded, the tank's engines roaring in reply.

But just when the access ramp began to close, and Liechtenstein's retinue thought themselves safe, Lucien leaped onto the closing access ramp. The radical swept into the tank like a dark shadow, grabbing the first victim he could find. Liechtenstein's Sage had its arms torn off in an display of horrifying strength, before its entire body was thrown out the back of the transport. Lucien's red eyes then looked for new prey, and his eyes fell on Zane and Rogers. The two stood between him and the wounded Liechtenstein, and Lucien would have ripped the two of them to pieces. But Zane raised his Brazier, and despite Rogers objections the tank was soon filled with orange
flames. Lucien swore before he turned and jumped out access ramp, landing on the road. He watched the transport speed away at full speed, fire still trailing out its back.



"Kill them! Kill them!" Screamed Kore, his sword slicing apart two more Eldar
warriors. "Don't stop until every single one of their corpses lay crushed beneath our boots!"

The Word Bearers fought like a fierce storm against the Eldar. Their fury was unmatched, and like crushing waves they withdrew to catch the Eldar off guard, before retaliating in a crushing counter assault. Their chainswords roared as they cut through flesh and bone, and scores of the Eldar lay dead, their bodies drowned under deep pools of blood.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" The Word Bearers cried as one.

Not long ago, had the Eldar Seer decided to join the battle. Ethandel, bringer of light, brought his illuminating form into the depths of the darkness where the Word Bearer's clashed with his people. His spear was thrust forward and it struck his enemies like a crack of lightning. His sword moved in wide graceful arcs, used with such the utmost care to best fell those it pierced. Those around their Seer became emboldened to preform greater acts of bravado and violence, slaying the traitors before them mercilessly.

Kore had immediately decided that this psyker needed to be dealt with, and had fought his way towards Ethandel. As he drew closer, the Eldar grew more and more fierce, determined to deny the Lieutenant access to their leader. He slew them all as quickly as possible, but it became increasingly hard to make progress forward. Soon the simply press of bodies made it difficult for him to advance, and he had to try and climb over the sea of enemies. At last he slew a final warrior, and nothing stood before him and Ethandel.

The Seer immediately turned his head to look at the Lieutenant, his mask showing no emotion.

'Back down, fiend!' The Seer spoke. 'You cannot win this fight.'

"Raise your weapon, Eldar!" Kore demanded. "So that I may avenge my Lord's killer
in the heat of battle! I take no pride in killing begging fools!"

'I wouldn't be so sure of that!' Spoke another voice. It was not the Seer, but something different. It spoke from the inside of Kore's mind, yet echoed all around him so he could not identify the source of the voice.

"Where are you witch?" Kore cried. "Show yourself!"

'I am the nameless one!' The voice spoke. 'I am known only as the bringer of redemption, destroyer of dark souls and evil beings of the night! I am the exorcist!'

"Then come, exorcist!" Kore shouted, scanning the battle for his target. "Bring yourself forth!"

'I will come in due course.' The voice whispered. 'But first you should know that Gushnuke is truly dead, his soul broken upon my blade! He will never re spawn a new body to plague the living once more!'

"Impossible!" Kore cried. "He is immortal, his soul will never die!"

'Would you like to test that theory?' The voice asked.

Then, like a gush of wind, an Eldar warrior swept into Kore's field of vision. The Lieutenant watched as the warrior killed at least three Word Bearers in the blink of an eye, his long sword passing easily through their armour and flesh. They each died instantly, as if the Eldar knew exactly where to strike them to take their lives with a single stroke.

The Eldar, the Exorcist, then jumped at Kore with its sword raised. The Lieutenant barely had time to blink let alone raise his weapon, and the bright silver blade of the Exorcist pierced deep within Kore's gut. The sensation that passed through the Lieutenant then was near indescribable. It was as if his body was being electrified, bolts of energy burning through his veins and in his bones. He felt paralyzed, but what was worse was that his mind had suddenly become scrambled. He could not think clearly, and he felt as if there was a pulling on his consciousness, as if his soul was being sucked out of his body. Then the blade was withdrawn, and Kore was left breathless and badly bleeding.

'Did you feel that, fiend?' The Exorcist spoke, his voice still in Kore's head. 'That was the feeling of your soul being plucked from your body.'

The Eldar stood over Kore, looking down at him through merciless eyes. Its entire suit of armour was the black of night, a red sash tied around his waist. In one hand he held his sword, a blade so bright that it hurt the eyes of the Lieutenant to look at. The Eldar wore a red cape, which looked as if a trail of blood followed the Eldar where ever he went. It moved through the air as gracefully as its wearer, and seemed so smooth that it could not possibly look a solid to the human eye. The Exorcist wore a mask with a crimson face. From one eye fell tears, tears of deep mourning and loss. Under the other eye came a long spidery rune, which covered the entire left side of the Eldar's face, and was a symbol of rage and immortal fury.

Kore roared in anger and rose to his feet, swinging his power blade with enough strength to decapitate the Eldar. Instead however, the Exorcist stepped back and out of the way, before lunging forth and pushing his own blade through Kore's heart. This time, when the feeling overcame the Lieutenant, there was no relief. He felt his soul painfully being sucked out of him, being drawn irresistibly towards the light of the Eldar's blade. When Kore's soul was taken from his body, it was utterly destroyed by the psychic power of the blade. Never would it enter the warp to be consumed.

The Lieutenant's body then fell limp to the ground, and the Exorcist looked at it for only a moment longer before turning away.



To Be Continued...



XIII

When Lucien returned to his retinue, he found the Sage in almost the exact same pose he had been before. The Mystic looked rather bored, sitting on a rock, while Lucien's cherub sat on the ground in a similar state. The two rebel leaders that had joined Lucien in this charade stood together discussing nonsense about girls and guns. All watched the battle below with little interest. It seemed to be almost over, very few warriors left to fight on either side. But it was evident that the Eldar managed to outnumber their chaotic enemies, and the day would be theirs.

"How much have you recorded?" Lucien barked at his Sage when he reached their vantage point. He did not seem to be in a pleasant mood.

"Everything since you left my Lord." The Sage spoke without moving. His mechanical parts clicked within his chest as he recorded, and wrote down anything that might be of specific interest to the Inquisitor.

"Good." Lucien said. "But I'm afraid that our day isn't over yet."

Seyton was bringing up the rear, dragging along the dead remains of the loyalists Sage. When it had fallen from the Rhino, Seyton had leaped on it hoping his master had tossed out someone of consequence to torture and kill. In his frustration at receiving only a robot, Seyton had kill the Sage. Lucien however had seen a usefulness in the data the robotic parts of the cyborg might have been still holding, and so had ordered Seyton to carry its remains with him.

When Lucien had spoken of work yet to do, it had immediately sparked the Acolyte's interest. He was still to satiate his hunger for carnage, and hoped now would be the time. He dropped the Sage to the ground and stood beside his master.

"What more is there to do?" The Mystic blurted out. "You have been recording the Eldar fighting for the past two hours or so, the loyalist is dead, and your mutant hoard destroyed! What more is there to do but escape with what we have?"

Lucien's red gaze seemed to bore into the Mystic. It was evident that he had not appreciated being left to sift dust for the past few hours, but the radical did not like his tone of voice. He glanced at Seyton, who knew immediately what to do. The mystic lay dead seconds later with a knife in his throat and his blood spilled.

Lucien then turned to Seyton and the rebel leaders.

"See the Eldar bodies down there?" Lucien asked. "I want one! I want it relatively intact, and I do not want it spoiled in any way on our retreat."

The two rebels looked horrified at the very idea of descending towards the conflict
below, while Seyton suddenly looked very pleased. The Acolyte was not smiling, but there was a glint in his eye that betrayed his excitement. His hands had clenched into fists, and he stood somewhat straighter than he had a moment ago.

"I don't want my first prize damaged however." Lucien said, looking at the dead Sage. "I want you two to take this one, and my own Sage to the lower levels where they will be safe. If all goes well I will meet you there in a few hours and we can arrange payment and a transport out of here."

The two rebels look relieved at the prospect of getting away from the battle. It was evident they would choose to do what Lucien asked rather than join him in the prospect of fighting. Although neither of them actually realized how heavy a dead Sage was, yet.

"If either of them are damaged in anyway I will turn the two of you inside out!" Lucien threatened before turning to Seyton. "We will have to be quick. While I was inside the transport of the loyalist, his Sage was signaling that reinforcements were on their way. That means we will have very little time until we are surrounded by more artillery, so we must be swift."



Ethandel looked about him, appeased at what he saw. The leader of the Chaos Space Marines was dead, and the remainder were beginning to flee. Some still fought on in a fierce rage, revenge burning in them worse than it had before. Others did not realize that Kore was dead, and fought on fervently. But they would not last long against the anger of the Eldar. Though casualties lay thick on both sides, the Word Bearers could not sustain any more. Their line would soon break.

'Chaos spawns!' Ethandel cried suddenly, heartening his warriors with a battle cry. 'Its presence will not be tolerated! We will not rest until every one of their heinous corpses lay dead or banished!'

The Eldar warriors rushed forward once more after retreating to muster a final
attack. They crashed into the final Chaos Space Marines like a furious storm, their bright blades cutting apart the traitors with ease.

'You are the Exorcists, and I am your beacon!' Ethandel proclaimed. 'I have brought us an enemy to sate our lust for revenge! We are the architects of their final doom, our hearts are our inspiration, our blades our tools!'

The Eldar were merciless in their execution, the Exorcist leading them at the front of the assault. So swift he was in his violent task, that the death of the traitors seemed to precede him where ever he came. His sword was but a glittering blur around him, cutting through the power armour of the Space Marines with almost no effort. The Exorcist then came upon a thick knot of the servants of Chaos, who were standing in a tight bunch to fight off the Eldar. The Exorcist reached out with one hand, his palm outstretched, and the Chaos Marines fell dead instantly. Their armour seemed to simply fall apart, their bodies reduced to ashes inside.

Eventually the forces of Chaos were reduced to only a few pockets of resistance. These however were soon destroyed, incapable of holding out against the might of the Eldar. To few were the Word Bearers to summon any further aid from the warp, yet they would not flee. They fought until every one of their number lay dead, and the Eldar victorious over their bodies.

The elegant race did not stop to gloat however, and immediately regrouped themselves. Ethandel stood atop a pile of bodies, his spear thrust into the head of the dead traitor under his foot. Like a great lord he looked, triumphant over his dead enemy. Around him the Eldar warriors grouped, preparing to enter the warp once again. A moment was spent collecting the spirit stones of the fallen, though the Eldar did not bother taking their bodies. Instead they were burned, their weapons and armour taken from them.

victorious we are my brethren.' Ethandel preached from his mound. 'Chaos will never triumph over us again while we have numbers and means to fight!'

When all was ready, the Seer opened a gate and the Eldar warriors leaped through to the other side. When they were all emerged within the folds of the warp, the gate closed leaving not a trace of it behind. All that remained were the corpse of the traitors, lying side by side with the Guardsmen that they had heartlessly murdered.

The rumble of approaching Imperial tanks could be heard in the distance, yet they would find no enemy to fight.



The End...for now...

excellent Cal, love it

thanks :D I'm really glad you read it, and enjoyed it!

anything in particular? Got a favourit character? moment? Sorry, but I like lots of feed back so I know what to keep doing and what to improve on.

Cal

the plot is good , twists and flows nicely , the three main characters are nicely believeable , the loyalist inquistion is not one dimensional and the villian nicely twisted although work on how his humour is described its a bit clumsy at times
i like how you do the battles very readable and the eldar emerging from the warp is nicely done

That was bloody fantastic.
Some really good twists and turns in the plot kept me guessing (like seyton) right up to the end.

not a favourite character (yet) but i like the elder/chaos fighting in a blood bath, really cool

Now on to the next chapter woohoo