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Post by AegisFate on Jun 12, 2014 4:24:33 GMT
In the milling discussion between the various 'groups' established, they all halted as a man stood at the top of the stairwell in the center, shouting out in thickly accented High Gothic, “The Lady Amelia Corwin has arrived!” After that, he stepped aside, walking back from where ever he came as the click of heels were heard, the lady of the party stepping down from her perch on high. Dressed elegantly in white trimmed with crimson and gold, black hair falling down her shoulders and pooling in the small of her back. Each step brought her closer and closer to the ground floor, finally hitting the ground solidly on both feet. Almost immediately, the party returned to normal, the nobles returning to their conversation, a hooded figure walking up to a group of admirals discussing finer points.
She stepped up to the assembled members of Haphaestus, a gleeful look in her eyes, shaking the hands of everyone of them. She spoke to them her voice soft and joyful, “You're the glorious members of Battlegroup Haphaestus. I loved the footage from the fight, including Captain Hyperion's break from protocol was astounding and the fires burning out from the traitor cruiser was simply beautiful! You must take me along on your battles, I hear a woman on board brings great luck.”
In the distance, hell suddenly awoke. The hooded figure turned into a whirlwind of death, a blade swinging out and cleaving a pair of men in half, blood sputtering out in a deadly arc, the crackle of light from the power blade casting a baleful glare. Screams emitted from the crowd, all trying to escape the skull faced monster revealed, the figure turning and killing without a care in the world, a grating laughter coming from behind the mask. A man's head exploded as a bolt pistol chattered out, held by the man one handed with the blade in the other.
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Post by The Glass Ninja on Jun 12, 2014 11:03:50 GMT
The Admirals fell like scythed wheat. Their blood spattering across the fine ballroom floor, glasses of amasec shattering just before their brutalised bodies fell. The figure who was wreaking such destruction amidst the gilded aristocracy of the Imperium had thrown off its cloak, black, gleaming armour - finely fitted - topped with a terrible, grinning skull. The laughing monstrosity idly pointed its pistol in the direction of a mulling group of nobles, not a sound issuing from a weapon, but the group falling dead and twitching all the same.
A fiery report issued from the gun as it jinked to the right, a round many would think was meant for Captain Tarsus missing - be it by cruel intent, a simple mistake, or the grace of the Emperor. It crashed into the midriff of the noble lady who's honour Hyperion was about to fight for. The round sent her flying back in a spray of blood and gore, her organs exploding out of her back. Most of her ribs and her spine were obliterated by the explosive charge.
She had barely hit the ground when the monstrous fighter was into the crowd. A few nobles drew blades or pistols, trying to fight back, but the crackling blue flash of a power sword sliced through simple steel and flesh alike. One man managed to hold off the figure for a moment, his own powersword straining against the strength of his assailant - the locked blades quickly pushed down into his skull, then his assailant flipped away to the side where he was met by the violet blast of a hellgun.
Two bodyguards knelt by the staircase, their guns hissing and spitting deadly beams towards the assassin, the bursts of starlight hissing against black armour. Terrifying, grating laughter once again issued from the skull mask, the assassin moving to the side, grabbing a heavy-set imperial guard general around the neck and using his flesh to absorb the brunt of the attacks. A flick of a black armoured arm sent a small egg sailing towards the guards. They were thrown to either side of the room when it detonated, shrapnel tearing into what was left of the screaming crowd.
The laughter got louder, and several bolts exploded around the captains of Battle Group Hephaestus, the servant who had asked Tarsus to take his quarrels outside had thrown off his heavy jacket, the white tunic underneath giving him far more maneuverability. A vein in his head twitched once, and a crackling lighting bolt shot from his fingers, almost striking the fluid form of the murderer, but the black armoured form was behind another panicking group of people before it struck.
Several dropped dead - be it from the pskyer's actions, or the slashing blade of the assassin.
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Post by Darko on Jun 12, 2014 12:07:50 GMT
Tarsus glanced wide-eyed at the lady behind him that caught a shell he narrowly avoided. The mysterious assassin was cutting a bloody path through the crowded hall, the screams of quite rightly panicked nobles almost drowning out the snap-crack of a pair of heavy-duty lasrifles, which were quickly silenced by the explosion of a grenade. Most of the guests rushed towards the exit. In their fine, flowing dresses and tight formal suits and frantic fleeing, each one trying to get past the other, the assassin easily caught up. In their midst, it was a slaughter.
Almost more horrifying was the reveal of the powerful psyker right next to them, blasting warp-lightning into the scuffle and killing more innocents (at least, as innocent as your typical noble gets). Tarsus had sheathed his sword after his duel had been prematurely ended, much to his chagrin, so he had one hand free to unholster his navy pistol even while he used his other to forcefully usher the good Lady Corwin away from danger. After all, Tarsus Hyperion was ever the gentleman.
He pulled her away to one corner of the room, firing a shot in the rough direction of the assassin. While the heavy duty revolver was a reassuring weight in his hand, it was not an easy weapon to aim on the move. Reaching a banquet table at one end of the room he grabbed hold underneath and gave a great heave, grunting slightly with exertion as he flipped over the long table. Food and silverware clattered to the fine marble floor as Lady Corwin ducked under cover beside him.
"Get over here!" Tarsus shouted to his fellow captains. When that thing was momentarily done butchering nobles, they could certainly do with a straight firing line down the hall. Raising his large pistol and holding it in a tight, two-handed grip, he aimed for a few seconds, then curled his finger around the trigger and pulled back. The recoil sent a jolt through his hands and the high calibre bullet raced towards the assassin, several scant moments too late as the assassin moved quicksilver from one helpless prey to another. It would turn its sights on them any moment now and Tarsus prepared to fire again.
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Post by silence on Jun 12, 2014 22:12:39 GMT
Nev was about to say something to the Lady when the room burst into a chaotic mess as Men and Woman started to scream. He turned around to see what the commotion was and wasn't disappointed by what he saw, a skull-masked killing machine chopping through people with a butchers finesse. Time passed quickly for several seconds to Nev as the bloodbath opened up before him, until Tarsus called out to get over to him.
Nev snapped out of his state of shock and drew his prized Falchion and Bolt-revolver, both which he had won several tournaments with, and followed Tarsus who had blood splattered across his chest. Tarsus flipped a table and started to fire at the assassin as Nev jumped the table and took cover with the bewildered Lady and Tarsus.
The assassin was making piecemeal of the nobles and dignitaries trying to run out the front door and dodged neatly around the bullets and lasers that flew his way, most hitting nothing but thin air or dead flesh. It didn't seem to be after a specific person, but it sure as hell was here to kill everything that moved.
Nev had heard of these kinds of Assassins, the feared Eversor, drugged-up psycho killing machines designed to kill more than just one target at once. "It obviously did that job well," Nev thought as he looked around for an exit. The windows around were all bullet proof and would make it impossible to get out, so the only logical course was moving deeper into the palace and hope they could kill it before it caught them. Nev voiced that as he got up to move up the stairs, "I suggest we move deeper into the palace and try to kill him while we run before he kills us, whatever that thing is, it wont go down easy."
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jun 14, 2014 18:22:52 GMT
Mandioz joined Tarsus in firing at the assassin. His prized belasco dueling pistol, an heirloom of the Mandioz dynasty, was as functional as it was ornate. Although in this situation its single shot capacity proved to be quite annoying.
"Nev, Silus," he shouted over the din of the shooting. "Guard the lady and get further into the estate. We'll cover you."
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Post by Warork on Jun 15, 2014 7:13:25 GMT
Bullard had been thus far enjoying the party. He liked his fine drink as much as the next man and even the rather dull conversation of the gathered nobility was a welcome reprieve from the constant strains that campaigning brought upon his mind and body. It hadn't been long until the other officers of his battle group arrived and were likewise surrounded by high class individuals who found their own wealth rather droll and indulged themselves by sucking up to the military guests of honor at the celebration.
"I heard there was a score of archenemy ships." One overdressed patron said of the battle. "They say Captain Bullard here lined them up and shot them all like fish in a barrel."
"Oooh, that sounds positively daring." A female patron cooed as she chose a glass of amasec from one of the roving servitors that was dispensing refreshments.
"With all due respect to the tellers of the tale," Bullard began diplomatically, all the nobility within the group ceased their murmuring when he spoke, each one eager to hear his every word. "It was not I nor my ship that delivered the most blows to the enemy. I did, however, have the pleasure of watching their flagship go down in flames." He finished by raising his glass as if in toast to the victory. That set the nobles that had gathered around him with their comparatively garish attire to talking amongst themselves once more.
It was at this point as Bullard was busy looking out over the congregation that he spied the eyes of his fellow Captain Mnedioz. The Captain waved him over for some reason so Bullard quickly excused himself from the group he was a part of and bid them all a good evening. As he marched over to where Mendioz was standing, he quickly took in the scene before him.
"What has that fool gone and done now?" He asked himself as he saw Captain Tarsus between two belligerent looking nobles and a lady. The two he was speaking to seemed to be about to go for their swords over some matter of honor apparently.
Mendioz and Bullard conversed lowly between themselves as the event went on. Eventually Bullard's mind wandered somewhere else, back to his ship and his men. He wondered if his men were enjoying their shore leave and not getting into too much trouble. He wondered what kind of paperwork his second in command would have for him when he returned. He wondered what kind of report the techpriest would give him when they were near time to ship out. He wondered--
Bullard was snapped out of his thoughts by the sounds of gunshots and screaming. He whirled in time to see a dark figure throw off his cloak and begin gunning down patrons left and right. Panic ensued. Crowds of people began running everywhere overturning chairs, tables and then Bullard who grunted as he was knocked off his feet by the press of people, his drink flying from his grasp to shatter and spill on the floor. At first he groaned but with a stirring curse, Bullard pushed himself onto his side and pulled the bolt pistol from his side holster, getting slowly to his feet.
He saw the skull faced figure running off in one direction and raised his bolter, firing off booming shot after shot, his bolter roaring with brilliant light with each pull of the trigger, the explosion deafening him each time. Eventually his weapon clicked dry. He sighed, he was sure he hit the thing at least a few times. As the screaming continued, he fell back with his fellow captains into another room as they also fired at the beast. Warpfire arced out from another combatant and Bullard swore. Hell spawned assassin beasts and witches run amok at a simple noble gathering.
"I am too throne damned old for this shit." He muttered as he fumbled for another magazine to put into his bolter as the muzzle softly smoked from his succession of shots. Mendioz ordered the other captains to take their hostess further into the hall while the rest of them provided cover.
"Mendioz has the gist of it. Go!" Bullard barked as he lifted his bolter to aim down its sights with his good eye and begin the fusilade of bolt shells once more.
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