TALE - Just Because

[simison]

"Warmaster!" Donar declared. "I have been forced to watch these bouts as weak as a newborn babe. I ask that you stand aside now that I finally have a chance to to exercise my limbs."

 

Alexandros frowned. "You're talking about reducing our slim numerical advantage."

 

The crack of thunder filled the room. "Fear not, Warmaster," Donar said as his warhammer filled with energy. Electricity danced in his eyes. "It will not be wasted."

[simison]

Alexandros studied Donar for a moment before he took a step back. Wolf's hair fluttered as Donar flashed forward. Ares hurtled in response, and the two giants of war crashed into one another. Ares threw two blows at Donar's flanks, but the Lord of the Storm Masters deflected both with the hilt of his hammer. Donar swung hard in reply. Ares sidestepped the attack and nicked Donar's arm with one axe as he tried to bury the other in Donar's face. Donar stepped forward, taking a weakened cut against his back shoulder. Donar kicked at Ares' knee. Ares lost balance but fell forward, grappling Donar. 

 

The two struggled briefly as Donar could not break the hold. Donar caught Ares' eye and grinned. Lightning coursed over Donar and scorched Khrone's Champion. With a pained roar and burning flesh, Ares released his opponent. Donar jabbed the warhammer into Ares' stomach. The force alone threw Ares into an empty wall. Donar stomped forth. Ares threw his smaller axe. Too close, Donar grunted as the weapon lodged itself in his chest. 

 

Ares rushed rearing his main axe back. Donar readied his warhammer. The two swung. The weapons smashed into each other. 

 

Ares' axe shattered. Donar threw a punch, and a bolt of lightning discharged from the fist. The lightning speared Ares' knee, unbalancing him. Before Ares could recover, Donar grasped his warhammer and delivered a two-handed blow. Ares' head exploded beneath the force. The body wavered in place before collapsing. 

 

As before, the mirrors of the slain summoned the remains before disappearing from view.

 

The last three took a moment to rest in the unusual peace. 

 

"May one day I can enjoy such a straightforward victory," Nemesis whispered, pain and loathing interwoven into his words. 

 

Donar eyed Nemesis and his burnt wings. "Are all of your sons like you in appearance?"

 

"Of the ones who followed me, it ranges." Nemesis turned a reptilian and human eye upon Donar. "Some are more monster than man, while some have been barely touched by their transformation. Only a few possess wings as I do, typically the strongest of my sons."

 

"You said they were few in number. Do you maintain any semblance of the legions' organization?" Alexandros inquired. 

 

Nemesis shook his head. "What few we are has been scattered by Malal. At most, there might be enough of my sons to form a squad, as you would know the term. Often are wars against Chaos are fought as lone warriors."

 

"It sounds like you're little more than guerillas," Donar said. 

 

Nemesis frowned at Donar. "There is some truth to what you say. What of your sons?"

 

"The Storm Masters? Even with our departure from the Imperium, we are a legion still, though I prefer the term Harjis. We may not be the most numerous legion, but we are the mightiest. I allow my sons to be organized around my þiufaþs, my war-vassals. Any warrior who can prove an ability to make war and to lead earns his own kuni, warriors who will follow him."

 

"That sounds like a mess," the Warmaster said. 

 

Donar chuckled. "On the contrary, it is quite liberating. Oh sure, I can intervene if I need to, but it's quite the meritocracy as you would say. The surest way to judge a would-be leader is to see how he fares in war. The best leaders take time to learn from their current superiors and how to discern worthy subordinates. It does not require their Primarch to judge them for every action they may or may not take. As an added benefit, it tends to weed out the fools and braggerts before they get too far or humble them into something stronger."

[simison]

Lightning fired across the glassy surface of Donar's mirror. The three of them glanced at it. "This has been quite entertaining, brothers, but I look forward to returning to my home," Donar said as he addressed the other two. He offered a deep nod. "While I cannot agree with your paths, I would be remiss not to wish you well."

 

Alexandros matched the nod. "Farewell, Donar."

 

"Kill a hundred daemons for me," Nemesis bid. 

 

Donar fiercely grinned in reply before he paraded through the mirror. The mirror flashed with brilliant light before vanishing. Nemesis turned to the Warmaster. "What was that power you used to cleanse yourself of Nurgle's taint?"

 

Alexandros paused as he considered his answer. "A gamble." 

 

Nemesis held up his claw and studied it, weariness written onto his features. "I wish I was aware of such a thing before I made my bargain. Has Malal not approached you?"

 

"He has," Alexandros admitted. "I rejected the offer."

 

"Why?"

 

"I am the Warmaster of the Imperium. I can not abandon humanity now, at this stage. To do so, risks ceding the entire war to Icarion before any potential benefit Malal could offer." 

 

Nemesis' voice became intense. "Were you not tempted?" 

 

The answer took a moment before coming in a tired whisper, "A little. There is so much I do not understand about this new kind of war. Perhaps if I was unaware of my gamble and was not the Warmaster, I may have accepted the offer as you have. Let me reverse the question, do you regret your choice?"

 

"Of course, I do," Nemesis said with more than a hint of self-loathing. "But it is one thing to regret a choice and another to recant of it. Malal was honest, you know. I was not idly boasting when I claimed I could war against my fallen brothers. Only two could match me in an equal fight. The difficulty is arranging for such a trial."

 

"Even with this power, you sound scarred."

 

Nemesis dropped his claw as he flexed his burnt wings. "Ascension, in any form, will scar the individual. Make no mistake, I view Malal as my greatest ally against Chaos. That does not mean he is a benevolent deity. As he is wracked with hatred of Chaos and of himself, so too are his disciples. Never again will I enjoy simple fellowship with my people." Nemesis' eyes shifted to where the Pariah had stood. "I suspect I have more in common with that one than I am comfortable with revealing. It seems in most realities, we survive and thrive through interaction with others. Denying such an intrinsic aspect of ourselves causes immeasurable pain. And all I have are the precious few visits I have with my sons to sustain me during my eternal war. That too serves Malal's purpose as my self-hatred and bitterness fuels my strength. It can be a torturous, though necessary, existence." 

 

A moment of silence drifted over the pair. 

 

Finally, Alexandros spoke, "The Empyrean is a realm of possibility. Maybe one day, you will achieve the victory you seek and rest."

 

Nemesis chuckled quietly. "It is said that hope is the first step on the road to disappointment." Nemesis' mirror came alive with the obscured lights of the Warp. Nemesis spread his wings. "Which serves Malal's purpose all the same. Farewell, Alexandros. May your gamble succeed beyond what my deal with a devil has granted."

 

Alexandros watched as Nemesis took to the air. "Farewell, Nemesis. May your sacrifice have meaning."

 

The daemon prince flew through the mirror. The mirror vanished leaving the Warmaster standing in an empty room.

Edited August 26, 2019 by simison

[simison]

"What weakling do I have to put with now?" Raktra snarled as his eyes drew to the newest mirror. Alabaster stained the window's surface as a red design slithered over it. A silver blade pierced through first. Its design was simple and elegant, evoking a tradition back to ancient Europa. Large by an Astartes' standard, Raktra soon deduced it wasn't much longer than a short sword for a Primarch. A white gauntlet clutched a practical hilt emerged next before the rest of the new being entered.

 

Raktra now saw why the sword was so short. The being's other hand was occupied. The largest narthecium enveloped the left hand. It was strange. The tool's housing was fit for a Primarch, but it featured two parallel sets of tools. One was sized for a space marine, the other for a common mortal. It was the first reason Raktra decided he hated this new being. The fact that he carried a tool of medicine was repulsive in of itself. 

 

The new being compounded the hatred with a jump pack attached to his pearl-white armor. It too was a thing of practicality, using two thrusters which no doubt aided steering and direction. A being of medicine and flight crossed off two separate hatreds in Raktra's mind.

 

The third and final sin? Perfection. Raktra scoured the new arrival's body with his Cutter's Sight. Not one broken bone laid hidden within his lean frame. No scars crossed his chiseled features. Not. One. Imperfection. 

 

Raktra growled as he meet the new individual's shining blue eyes. The new arrival puffed on an iho-stick, the smoke wafting through his golden hair. "Well," the newcomer began as he studied Raktra, removing the iho-stick from his mouth. "It looks like you could use my services."

[simison]

Oda-Chaos Undivided

Kenshin-Chaos Undivided

Motochika-Slaanesh

Hanzo-Tzeentch

Shimazu-Khorne

Hojo

Imagawa

Maeda

Kuroda

 

Loyalist-

Tokugawa

Azai

Sanada

Toyotomi

Takeda

Ishida

Date

Otomo

Mitsuhide