05-19-2015, 08:00 AM
Okor Wrote:Okor slapped his fellow legionnaire on the back, the decaying flesh of his palm slamming into blue and gold ceramite. "Now, now... Brother. To visit such destruction upon these mortals would be... unbecoming." Okor took a moment to breathe in the aroma of the Abyss, filtering the air through diseased respirators. "Across reality and the warp, the same scenes play out again, and again. The settings... change, the men change their faces, but it all persists. The arenas of Kurze, the blood trials of aspirant Astartes, the savage pits of feral worlders. A people hunger for blood, and this gives it to them. Look.... past the veneer of civilization. The people are here to jeer, to taunt, to cheer, and to scream for more. They wish to make you their champion." He looked from side to side, ensuring that there were no other parties privy to their conversation. "Besides. I.... doubt our time here ends with our victory. That Daemon we met. He... did not know us. The Astartes were a mystery to him. Now, with... four legions swearing their souls to the glory of chaos, five... daemonic primarchs, and countless souls offered up to the ruinous powers, do you believe even the lowliest warpspawn could not recognize a Legionnaire on sight?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. I believe this... Omni is something more. The people neither offer us supplications, or... flee. They are unfamiliar. Even the most devolved world will have some legend of... The Long War. We are strangers in a... strange land, one yet... deprived of the Gods. One awaiting their heralds. One that has its eyes cast upon this competition." He threw his arms up, cackling as he envisioned what was to come. "We will be victorious. We will cast the champions of this realm into... darkness, and bring despair to its people. And when all seems lost, when... They have nothing left, we will bring them hope. They will embrace what we bring them, and bow before the Gods. This land shall rot, and be... brought forth anew, rising from decay, reborn into greatness." He leaned forward over the railing, grinning savagely beneath his helm. "And we shall rule over it."Galel smirked beneath the ceramite plating of his helmet, stopping next to Okor and looking out across the hall. His third eye flitted about, even as his mortal eyes rested on Okor, appraising his companion's demeanour. "You speak with wisdom, brother." He said, his indignation calming. "I have contemplated our situation, and have come up with three possibilities. Either we are being tested by the Ruinous Powers, probed and challenged for their dark purposes. Or we are trapped and ensnared by an agent of Malal." Galel spoke, his last sentence dripping with spite. "If it is Malal, then we have much to be wary of, and much destroy. I doubt that any of the Gods would dare allow us to live for even a moment longer if we allowed Malal's schemes to come to fruition..."
Okor nodded, staying silent for several moments. A few maggots wormed their way out of a crack in his armour, falling to the floor covered in clear, viscous goo. A fly landed on Galel's shoulder, twitching about for a moment before being swatted away by the Sorcerer. Okor finally spoke. "What is your third conclusion?" He asked.
Galel soured, glaring at the crowded hall before them. "We truly are lost, gone from the reality we knew, isolated from our brethren and the Long War." Galel clenched his fists on the railing, the steel warping ever so slightly under his weight. "The third possibility is that Omni was telling the truth. That is the idea I dread the most."