The Feast of blades [Open]

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

Erhart was quite intrigued by the Sensorium demonstration, so he immediately starts utilizing it for his own needs, creating a huge scene from one of the many battles that grace his roll of honor. In this case, the battle of Carrion Gulf, third year of the Torment crusade.

It was a manufactory world. All large buildings with huge smoke-stacks, clattering conveyor belts, and downtrodden citizenry. And then Chaos came, turning the citizens into frothing cultists, and populating the world with the dark reflections of Erhart, the Chaos Space marines.

His fighting company rides the lighting, bombarding the planet in ceramite and steel drop pods which crack open like eggs, disgorging black-armored paladins like himself inside the capital. Bolters roar from friend and foe alike as the defenders of the faith, and the defilers of the faith square off, ripping into one another at range.

"INTO THEM!"

Erhart roars, through augmented external speakers, before thundering down the assault ramp of his drop pod, and decapitating a corrupted Chaos Marine with a two-handed swing from the Black Sword, the crackling of the power blade drowning out even his battlecry for a moment as it bites through armor, flesh, and bone.

And so it begins....

Comments

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

The world Erhart had recreated looked... unpleasant. Yeah. That was probably the best way to describe it. A screaming man came barreling towards Zouichi, brandishing some kind of weapon. Without a thought, Zouichi reached out in turn, snapping the man's neck in one smooth motion.

He scanned the crowd, looking for the source of the familiar voice he'd heard in the midst of the carnage.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

Erhart can be found in the midst of a power-armored scrum of warriors fighting over an eye-burning icon, which oozes corruption into the air almost like some kind of corrupt banner, cleaving through flesh and armor as he tries to cut down the icon-bearer, his brothers against the motley-colored warhost of chaos, the ebb and flow of the battle going back and forth as bolters blast and chainswords shriek. He almost dances through it, impaling one Chaos marine through the gut, while kicking another's legs from beneath him, one of his brother-marines stepping in and blasting the skull of the fallen Chaos warrior apart before he can rise. A black and white whirlwind of murder. He spots Zouichi as he turns to clash blades with a chainaxe-wielding berserker, and nods approvingly.

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

Well, if that's what they were doing. Zouichi unhooked the jet-black implement at his side, extending it fully with an expert flick of his wrist into a long, slender axe. With it, he made his way towards Erhart, beheading one Chaos warrior here, lopping off a limb or two there.

His left hand found his gravity gun, which he discharged coolly into the seething mass of soldiers. Abruptly, the nearest Chaos Marine's head blew apart in a red and white cloud of brain matter and bone.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

The tide of battle swirls around them, crimson-armored warriors and other ones, cackling wildly and clad in pinks and purples, wielding strange sonic weapons come to the fore. Erhart takes a step back, using the slackening pressure to throw a Berserker off before cleaving him in half, then goes back to back with Zouichi.

"Mind the pink ones, their sonic blasters will turn you into jelly if you're hit." He draws his pistol for the first time since the assault begins, punching 3 rounds into the speaker-system weapons of the incoming member of the Emperor's Children, leaving them surrounded by a half-dozen other Chaos Space Marines, but having eliminated the two most dangerous foes early on.

[quick_strike]

Disgusting. Humans had the equipment and skill of waging war but had no idea how to complete the art of war. Alendian had other reasons for standing on the side and not getting involved, warping away if she gained the attention of some foul worshipper of thee dark powers. She wished to learn the primitive tactics the primates used to fight. With her own craftworld under siege, this would be extremely useful if she were to ever somehow return.

She would live through this perversion of art for the time being. Live and watch closely.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

The primary tactic of the Black Templars appears to be drop pod assault followed by a close range barrage, ending with a huge scrum of blade-work which while unsubtle by Eldar standards, suggests inhuman skill, particularly on the part of Erhart, who wields the two-handed Black Sword to a standard as beyond the other Astartes as they are beyond the mutated cultists who provide the cannon-fodder for this war.

[quick_strike]

Oh, Alendian knows full well of Space Marine skills. She has seen and fought with them on a close combat basis before. Perhaps not ones so specialized as Black Templars but caution was still needed to fighting them. The Eldar did wonder how long this fight would last, however. Despite the long lives of Eldar, most battles they entered were short, swift strikes that emphasized survivability over all else. A grindfest was the last thing the Eldar needed to get involved in.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

The fight seems to have no end, wave after wave of cultist and Traitor marines smashing into the Crusade company.

And then... the tide of battle ebbs. The Templars seem confused, spreading out as they examine far too many abandoned heavy weapons emplacements. Either the Traitor Marines were truly mad... or something just became more important than this bloodletting.

[punchedoutdestiny]

Simon wanted to check these sensoriums out himself after what Trudy had said about them - though he was blissfully unaware of someone using it when he steered Lagann inside.

He didn't have much time to gawk at the world before an explosive landed nearby, blowing Lagann into the air. The man yelled, and pulled the hatch closed on Lagann. He engaged the booster to stabilize himself, hovering about twenty feet above the battlefield as he tried to get his bearings and find the exit.

...and he was trying not to think about just how gruesome this all was.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

It is a day of glory, and sacrifice. Simon can see Templars dying on the chainglaives of a dozen cultists at once, or tearing great rents in the ranks of the Chaos Space Marines, but it is... brutal in a way that no fight he's been in ever was. The Ganmen lent a degree of distance to it all. This is close warfare on an industrial scale, waged by posthuman killing machines. The heroes of this place are very different sorts of men from the kind that Simon or even Kamina was. Brave, certainly, manly, absolutely, but there is a ruthlessness to this war which is hard to absorb for anyone not from it, as blood and entrails wash the streets.

[punchedoutdestiny]

Yeah, it's definitely beyond what he'd seen - even as ruthless as the Anti-Spirals had been with the surprise attacks and underhanded despair-inducing tactics.

He still hovers in the air, rather rattled at the scene before him - Lagann's expression mirrors his own.

"What...what the hell is this...?"

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

Erhart pauses the Sensorium, looking up to Simon in his odd little face-bot.

"This is war, Mortal. A war that has been fought for ten thousand years."

[zombiewolf]

An eerie, bestial howl filled the Sensorium. It had not taken Kyladriss much time to find the best place to test her runeblade - slaughter called to her bones, even if it was simply an illusion. She raised her hand and summoned her bone shield, the dance of macabre defense whirling around her. She dropped to all fours and charged into battle, her runeblade bouncing on her back, until she smashed into the front line with blade and claws.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

This did not go as planned for Erhart. When he sees.... a werebeast forming a bone shield, he turns from the cultists, leaving them to his simulated brothers, and strides across the battlefield. Hunting this fell thing which has entered the battlefield.

[zombiewolf]

The foot soldiers around Kyladriss were forced to turn and deal with her - while they could hide under cover from the fire across the battlefield, Kyaldriss leapt their barricades and crashed into them with steel and claws.

A circle of unholy blight spread out from her feet, and she grabbed the closest Chaos Marine by the face, forcing her plagues of undeath into his blood. Streams of black, vile energy left the cultist's body and swarmed to everyone else within range, spreading Kyladriss's blight. She brought her sword to bear next, slashing through their armor, her face fixed in a snarl as their life energy built up a blood-red shield around her.

Erhart would notice that while she fought with the viciousness of a beast, she was indeed skilled. She dodged and parried more attacks than she took, and even when they hit her it did not seem to effect her. She simply turned to the offending cultist and skewered him with her runeblade, sucking the life out of him.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

Erhart continues to close on Kyladriss, eyes narrowed behind his helm in horror at what she's doing. He smashes down a Chaos Space Marine, crushing his skul with a stomp a moment later, and faces her, black blade crackling with the molecular disruption field.

[everdistant_utopia]

For her part, the King of Knights was not terribly surprised that the Sensoriums were being used during her habitual practise time. Although one might question her need to constantly train herself, it was, in large part, mostly for her own comfort. At least when she was training, the little blonde could empty her mind and focus on her movements.

What did surprise her, however, was the nature of this particular would. It was not a training hall as she and some others constructed for training purposes. Admittedly, a reconstructed war zone was probably ideal for training, but the landscape was certainly not something Saber was accustomed to.

For the moment, she decided to simply observe. Studying, too, was an important part of training, even if she didn't find it all rather fascinating.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

The war is utterly brutal. Blades rip through ceramite-armored warriors, and the flesh beneath. Acts of cowardice and heroism are undertaken, often at the same time. There is no mercy in this place, except for the mercy of the swift kill. The corrupted human civilians seem almost thankful as the templars purge them with bolter and blade, released from the agony of their slavery to the Ruinous powers at last.

The Chaos Space marines, on the other hand, are not nearly as happy, hurling themselves against the black-clad ranks of the Fighting Company with fanatic abandon.

[everdistant_utopia]

It was not wholly unlike the wars she had fought as the King of Britain. The genteel rules that came many years later -- somewhat imparted to her when she was summoned to fight in the Fourth Holy Grail War -- had not yet been so much as conceived. But then, the Holy Grail War itself was similarly brutal. She had been grateful for what few honourable duels she had been granted -- the first against her fellow knight, Lancer -- but those seemed to have been the exception rather than the rule.

Even still, Saber found it curious why anyone would want to relieve such a scene. She certainly would not have recreated the Battle of Camlann, the final hours of her kingdom and the deaths of all but a handful of her knights, including her 'son', Mordred. She could not and would not forget, but she wouldn't relive it, either.

[ghost-bait.livejournal.com]

Miku had gone looking for Cargn. It wasn't unusual to find her sensei had gone and vanished (which begged the question how, as Cargn was an unfairly tall man) from the Temple, but every once in a while Miku desired clarification on a lesson.

She didn't find him in the Tapestry sensorium, either, but paused at the door of an occupied sensorium. It would be rude of her to peek her head in, but the noises coming from the room are intriguing (and frightening). She summoned her strength and opened the door.

Though they looked similar to her grandfatherly-looking sensei, it was obvious to the spirit medium that they were worlds apart. She hurried to find a hiding place, horrified at the carnage around her.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

The carnage finds her, huge, spined beasts hurtling towards her on paws, looking like flayed dogs. Flesh-hounds of Khorne. They snarl, as they attempt to surround Miku.

[ghost-bait.livejournal.com]

Miku was good at many things, but running hadn't been one of them even with all the training she'd taken. Still, that didn't stop her from trying to find the exit to the sensorium, now lost in the simulation. She screamed, but that was likely lost under the sounds of battle.

[death_adept]

The assassin had been moving through the area of the sensoriums looking to practice his art, given the sounds of combat and that distinct crack of bolt weapons the Vindicare had made his way into the simulation. With skill and ease he'd woven his way to a vantage point atop one of the rooftops of the metal buildings to take in the scene in greater detail. The location was of clearly imperial human architecture, a manufactorum he would have assumed after a moment.

Rifle unlimbered he scanned the conflict, searching out the one that had no doubt called up this simulation, a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes, of the Black Templars. A chapter he had little dealings with, but by reputation alone he was clearly familiar with. The clear opposite of his style in terms of engagement, but far from ineffective he would give them that.

Deciding to announce his presence in a manner the Vindicare lined up a shot with ease on what looked to be a squad leader, an aspiring champion of Chaos with which the champion of the Black Templar's was about to engage and place a single round, one that could pass through power armour as if it were but butter straight through the eye of the champion in question.

[swordofdorn.livejournal.com]

Erhart seems not to notice at first, assuming one of his brethren murdered the champion with a well-placed bolt round, and turns his fury to the remainders of the Chaos Space marines of the squad, the Black Sword reaping a body toll that is positively ridiculous, a swathe of destruction that presses ever deeper into the lines of the Archenemy.

The assassin, it would seem, is doing his job well.

[death_adept]

After one shot went unnoticed by the Astartes, the Vindicare followed through with shot after shot. Settling cross-hairs on weak points of the traitor marines armour time and again coming as easily to the assassin as did breathing. Time and again his rounds felled the marines that had been found by his sights.

The advanced systems of his spy mask easily patching into the vox-frequency of the Black Templars. --Vindicare on station--