[1-3] The Nose

[Okor]

The rad-bolter bucked in his claws as he pulled the trigger, the rusted shell propelling itself forward upon a tail of green-tinged flame before burying itself in the abdomen of a half-naked savage. They were allowed a half second to ponder this development before the weaponized war crime detonated, gobbets of bloody flesh flying through the air as their stomach dispersed about the immediate area.

”Kill!” Screamed the Plague Marine, his antiquated atrocity spitting death once more as the brass shell dropped to the scorched earth. Feral marauders surged forward, their ritually scarified bodies daubed with a mixture of warpaint and fresh blood, their jagged teeth and wild eyes turned daemonic by the flickering firelight. A cannibal draped in flayed skin thrust a spear forward, the obsidian-tipped pike worming its way into Okor’s bone-plated gut, the would-be giant slayer pausing in confusion as the spearhead shattered.

”Maim!” Tainted talons thrust forward as his ancient weapon fired, claiming another life even as disease-drenched appendages pierced the tribesman’s skin, dark curses spilling from the Champion’s fanged mouth like infested water from a discarded and broken jug. Pistons screamed and muscles contorted themselves around rotten bones as he lifted the impaled savage into the sky, the seemingly infinite number of parasites concealed within his husk swarming forth as they began to devour the presumptuous primitive inside-out.

Crimson energy lanced forth from behind the ramshackle palisade, searing beams of heat neatly severing the tendon of an axe-wielding marauder in two, a howl of rage and agony accompanying their fall, the crippled cannibal still attempting to crawl towards the secondaries cowering within the fortification. It was a cut made with surgical precision to spare a life, but it would nonetheless be irrelevant, come the next meal.

Stone and hide wrapped around his outstretched arm, the newly made corpse slipping from his corrupted claws, the rotten flesh unable to sustain its structural integrity as its captor turned to face the latest threat.

A dozen ravagers stood, primitive bolas spinning in their hands, spears held lazily in the other appendage as they stalked forward, hissing amongst themselves in their own tongue. Behind them stood a massive marauder, arms crossed impassively as they regarded Okor’s impending annihilation from behind a reworked skull, whorls of crimson adorning the pristine ivory surface. Twinned macuahuitl hung from a leather belt, the facial features of the unfortunates who once made up its construction barely visible in the dim light.

The pillaging primitives raised their weapons, loosing their javelins and restraints as the Leprous Legionnaire’s hand moved to his belt.

”Burn.” He hissed, sepulchral spears of rotten fangs struggling to form words through the haze of hatred permeating his psyche. A hurled spear pierced his heart as he unhooked a censer from his waist, a bola unable to arrest his momentum as he begun to spin the brass container, the sphere tailing sickly green flame and black smoke as it whirled through the air. Briefly, his assailants stood stunned, watching their foe continue moving even as a lance as tall as a man protruded from his chest. It was only when he released his grip, sending the alchemical atrocity flying, did they begin to run.

It was far too late.

Bare feet halfway through beginning a mad dash were caught as the fragile censer crashed against the earth, splitting open and releasing the ever-burning phosphex contained within. The necrotic napalm spread like feral fire, clambering up limbs as it began to consume the cannibals. Many of them fell, each screaming their own dirge as they were eaten alive by the rapacious flame, the roar of the flame unable to drown them out as their howls of unimaginable agony permeated the atmosphere.

Okor’s verdigris-coated boot descended, the heavy metal disintegrating the blackened bone beneath his tread. Stilled figures laid around him, charred corpses slowly smoking as the hellfire that had eaten them alive slowly faded back into the warped world that had spawned it.

It was halfway through the beginning of an idle muse on the endless cycle of life and death did the Skull-faced Champion strike, leaping from the darkness at the edge of the clearing, unparalleled athleticism carrying them forth to battle. Stone-edged swords bit deep into his chitinous armour, the volcanic glass shredding the lesion-ridden skin beneath as white ichor wept from the wound.

The Plagued One swung, his heavy arm sweeping through the air, skimming over the agile Cannibal as they ducked under the blow, driving a scarred shoulder into Okor’s gut.

This was, as all witnesses would attest to later, a mistake.

The tattered skin hanging over the many-toothed maw was flung aside, twisted teeth digging into the foe’s flesh as a tangle of tentacles wrapped themselves around his torso, attempting to drag the marauder deep into the waiting abyss, the rotten remains of previous victims awaiting the latest addition to their number.

Septic sewage flowed over the tribesman’s musculature, running over ritually maimed skin as they struggled, a bone-laden hand moving to their man-hide belt, pulling a bloodstained knife from its scabbard, driving its onyx length into the mass of manipulators swarming over him.

The festering fetters fell, severed by the prodigious strength behind the blade, granting the foe a chance to withdraw, pulling himself from the gnashing fangs and leaping away from arm’s reach, pressing a bloodied hand to his wounds, his scarred chest heaving as they drew in ragged breaths.

There was a snarl of metal upon metal as Okor drew his own blade, its pitted surface dripping with contagion. The sacred weapon of Nurgle leveled itself at the Skull-shrouded foe, a bead of disease falling from its twisted tip. ”You’re already… dead. Whether by my blade, or by the touch of Nurgle, you will not survive the night.” Hissed Okor, glaring with pure malice at his opponent. ”You will curse Omni for bringing you into this world of hurt, before the end. Every single nerve ending within your… pathetic corpse will scream in agony, and I will ensure every insignificant worm you have ever cared for will hear every single wail.”

The cannibal showed no signs of understanding, their eyes wide and feral beneath their carrion carapace, their body shuddering as toxins and adrenaline fought for control of their biology.

There was only one last thing to be said, hungry eyes prowling through the darkness behind him, a brief moment of calm before the storm.

”Come on if you think you’re hard enough!”

The savages surged forth, brandishing primitive blades as they fell upon the Gangrenous Giant, not all of them failing to dodge his tarnished weapon as it hacked and hewed gangly limbs from boney torsos.

Dodge, cut, thrust, parry. The motions were perfected across millennia of war, ingrained responses to the inevitability of bloodlust. A savage was gripped by the nape of the neck, a fermenting cut across their torso slowing their reactions to the point where they were unable to stop their impending doom. A spear glanced off the curved structure of his atomic-fueled armour, completely helpless to stop the Marine. With a roar of rage, he drove the face of the primitive into the ground, their skull shattering beneath his strength. His elbow lashed out, stalling an attempt at driving a spear into his throat. His pistol barked, setting a face aflame as his blade drove itself into the ribcage of another.

He killed. He maimed. He burned.

Like a titan loosed from the blackest depths of Tartarus, he unleashed his wrath, a relentless killer set upon the severely under-equipped feral warriors. Disease dripped from splintered fangs as he screamed his hatred to the skies, unaware of the skull-masked champion driving their blade into his back, shredding organs, flesh, and skin, long-dead nerves unable to communicate their devastation.

Two SP used. 3 Remaining. Okor is currently surrounded by cannibals, and would very much appreciate some assistance if it can be rendered. 1321/2400 words.