Re: The Relentless Slaughter [Round 1: Untitled-1]
02-17-2011, 11:43 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.
Vulm'mram'Vuul was already moving.
His first hoof hit the ground and immediately thrust him forwards into the Scout's Path, a loping, weaving run. His crushing arm reached back, even as the Mk.II "Furious" heavy-weapons holder delivered Rend and Dominate into his hand. He pushed his second elbow backwards, and a stumpy tertripod gripped the loop on the end of the battleaxe's handle. Furious released Rend and Dominate, and Vuul hefted the massive battleaxe upwards, gripping the end of the handle at his second elbow, with his three-fingered hand placed about midway up, guiding the battleaxe's movements. He swept his crushing arm downwards into the Emperor's Charge position, first elbow straight, second elbow bent backwards, ready to whip Rend and Dominate around at a moment's notice. The tertripod holding the end twitched, and the battleaxe's edges ignited with magnetically-contained plasma. Meanwhile, the lower of his quickarms drew an Emperor's Focus plasma sword, and the upper drew an Emperor's Gaze plasma pistol.
Vuul felt no conflict of spiritual interest in continuing to use weapons which invoked the Holy Immortal God-Emperor - though he supposed it was just "Emperor" now. Vuul had always been of the opinion that the Holy Immortal God-Emperor - no, just Emperor, that's what he meant - was merely a conduit through which the Prime shone. An especially strong conduit, yes, very nearly embodying the essence of the Prime. But a conduit nonetheless.
And now here he had proof. He had seen his God. The Prime Alumvaeum. The Chaos Unconquerable. That Which Tore Asunder, and Created Anew. The Burning Light. The Tormentor.
Vuul felt the stirrings of religious rapture deep within him, and his orators began to tingle as the Alvum religious pheromone began to release. His God had entrusted him with a new Name. Only a very few conduits had ever burned so deeply with The Light as to have received another Name.
Those conduits burned so fiercely in fact, that they were recorded in the annals of the Alvum Imperium, and incorporated into the Imperium's religious teachings, for the destruction they caused, and the scars they left on the galaxy.
All of the conduits had also died in glorious battle, for that was what The Prime commanded. And now Vulm'mram'Vuul, Battlecleric of the "Emperor's Fury" 4th, servant of the Emperor for almost seventy galactic standard years, had been given the same command.
Blood for the Blood God.
A stone hallway was being hastily drawn in around him, but Vuul seemed to have no real regard for straight lines. The walls and ceiling were constantly being erased and redrawn as Vuul charged straight through half-filled-in walls and leapt over still-opening chasms.
Eventually the world's artist seemed to give up on creating a castle around the Battlecleric, and instead quickly sketched out a massive, rocky valley, through the bottom of which ran Vuul. A humanoid figure, with crudely-drawn horns and wings, was colored in on one of the valley's ridges. It was surrounded by a small flashing black-and-white box, and suddenly there were hundreds of them, surrounding the valley. And then they all ran screaming down straight for Vuul.
Vuul was happy. His God was truly a caring God.
Vuul ran through a mental list of battle tactics, and decided the Ritual of Culling would be the most fitting for this situation. Which would mean he'd be using the Baal'mroom'Xhuum at Plygorrath incantation as his battle-chant.
He shifted his running stance into the Blazing Meteor, hunching forwards, now in an outright sprint. As the devils grew closer he began to swivel his upper torso, starting a spin. He built up speed. His crushing arm suddenly whipped outwards, Rend and Dominate passing mere inches from the nearest of the devils, slowing his spin and seeming to bring him off balance. When the arm was completely straight, his first elbow finally relaxed from its previous rigidity, and began to bend inwards towards his chest, while his send elbow bent back outwards. Rend and Dominate's blades were still at the end of his now folded-up arm. The movement had brought his center of gravity closer, speeding his spin, and he whipped around while shoving off with one hoof into the Meteor's Strike. He was spinning rather quickly by this point, and his chest speakers were only optimally aligned with his trajectory for a very short period of time. Luckily, the incantation he had chosen worked well with short bursts. Midair, spinning, descending upon the gibbering devils, he began his battle chant.
"WRITHE!"
The word came out as a wall of sound, like a thousand organs, blasting the nearby devils to the ground. Blood began to flow from their mouths, eyes, ears, nostrils... several simply did not get back up. Vuul's hooves crushed them as he landed, and he drowned them in the blood of their comrades. He pushed forwards, whipping his crushing arm around once more, cleaving a burning path through the red-skinned humanoids. His lower quickarm sliced outwards, the Emperor's Focus plasma sword quickly dispatching any devil which made it inside his crushing arm's reach. Rend and Dominate churned through the mass of fleshy, squishy devils, and Vuul was brilliant white fire at the center of its burning fury. Bodies melted and Vuul turned towards their dribbling remains.
"COWER!"
Again, the devils were blown to the ground, stunned, bleeding. Vuul thrust Rend and Dominate behind him, second elbow whipping the battleaxe's captured plasma through another group of devils. Vuul turned with the thrust.
"GROVEL!"
Cries and screams, and more devils were pushed back. Vuul spun and bodies burned. The euphoric trance of rapture began to creep at the edges of his awareness.
"FEAR YOUR FUTURE!"
The lower quickarm thrust the Emperor's Focus back in its scabbard, and drew its own Emperor's Gaze. Both quickarms began firing the plasma pistols in short, surgical bursts, frying devils too far away for Rend and Dominate. He began to funnel his enemies towards his front.
"FOR HE HAS JUDGED YOU!"
The devils fell before his righteous voice, and he carved through them like butter. He turned, slowly panning across the ones still behind him.
"AND YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND UNWORTHY!"
Plasma beams strafed the convulsing bodies, igniting flesh and searing through bone. Vuul had fully succumbed to his battle trance by this point. Pleasure-inducing chemicals flooded his system, and religious euphoria swept over him. He felt no fatigue, and no worry. He was doing holy work.
"BUT DESPAIR NOT!"
The wails of pain from the devils he drove before him seemed to imply they weren't really listening, but most enemies were deaf after the first word of a battle chant anyway.
And besides, he made certain their wails didn't last long.
"HE HAS GIFTED YOU TO ME!"
They weren't coming after him any more. He moved into the Meteor's Winter pattern, tracking down stragglers. Several started running when they saw him approaching. They fell to their knees at his divine invocation.
"AS A WAY TO REGAIN YOUR WORTH!"
Five left now. Grouped together, standing against him. Respectable. Futile.
"GIVE IN TO MY BLADE!"
Four heads rolled, but the fifth escaped by a hair's breadth, somehow scrabbling away at the last second. Vuul approached him. He raised Rend and Dominate above his head, assuming the Judgement's Eclipse stance.
"AND ALL WILL BE FORGIVEN!"
The devil's skin writhed at the proximity to such volume, and then Rend and Dominate did what it did best. Vuul straightened, having completed the Ritual, and began to scan the area.
Manic cackling drifted through the blood-soaked valley, and suddenly the bodies were erased. At the top of the valley stood a new figure, vaguely similar to what the Tormentor (he was still getting chills from even thinking the new Name) had called "Martin Holden". A human, if he remembered correctly. Soft, weak, inventive, dangerous in groups. This figure looked a little off, though. Vuul was no good at recognizing the details of the human face, as he'd had no need to, so the empty black eyes and the ear-to-ear grin went completely unnoticed. The proportions of the body, on the other hand, he noticed.
No matter. If they were of tactical relevance he would soon find out. The Tormentor had mentioned something about a gun, which told Vuul all he needed to know to assume a new battle tactic. He lurched into the Skirmisher's Approach, and returned Rend and Dominate to Furious. The Mk. II's disks telescoped outwards, turned one-quarter in opposite directions, and retracted, delivering the handle of Blaze and Subjugate to his waiting hand. He brought his crushing arm forwards again, the massive plasma cannon hanging beneath his second forearm, pointed straight at Martin-horror.
Vulm'mram'Vuul was already moving.
His first hoof hit the ground and immediately thrust him forwards into the Scout's Path, a loping, weaving run. His crushing arm reached back, even as the Mk.II "Furious" heavy-weapons holder delivered Rend and Dominate into his hand. He pushed his second elbow backwards, and a stumpy tertripod gripped the loop on the end of the battleaxe's handle. Furious released Rend and Dominate, and Vuul hefted the massive battleaxe upwards, gripping the end of the handle at his second elbow, with his three-fingered hand placed about midway up, guiding the battleaxe's movements. He swept his crushing arm downwards into the Emperor's Charge position, first elbow straight, second elbow bent backwards, ready to whip Rend and Dominate around at a moment's notice. The tertripod holding the end twitched, and the battleaxe's edges ignited with magnetically-contained plasma. Meanwhile, the lower of his quickarms drew an Emperor's Focus plasma sword, and the upper drew an Emperor's Gaze plasma pistol.
Vuul felt no conflict of spiritual interest in continuing to use weapons which invoked the Holy Immortal God-Emperor - though he supposed it was just "Emperor" now. Vuul had always been of the opinion that the Holy Immortal God-Emperor - no, just Emperor, that's what he meant - was merely a conduit through which the Prime shone. An especially strong conduit, yes, very nearly embodying the essence of the Prime. But a conduit nonetheless.
And now here he had proof. He had seen his God. The Prime Alumvaeum. The Chaos Unconquerable. That Which Tore Asunder, and Created Anew. The Burning Light. The Tormentor.
Vuul felt the stirrings of religious rapture deep within him, and his orators began to tingle as the Alvum religious pheromone began to release. His God had entrusted him with a new Name. Only a very few conduits had ever burned so deeply with The Light as to have received another Name.
Those conduits burned so fiercely in fact, that they were recorded in the annals of the Alvum Imperium, and incorporated into the Imperium's religious teachings, for the destruction they caused, and the scars they left on the galaxy.
All of the conduits had also died in glorious battle, for that was what The Prime commanded. And now Vulm'mram'Vuul, Battlecleric of the "Emperor's Fury" 4th, servant of the Emperor for almost seventy galactic standard years, had been given the same command.
Blood for the Blood God.
A stone hallway was being hastily drawn in around him, but Vuul seemed to have no real regard for straight lines. The walls and ceiling were constantly being erased and redrawn as Vuul charged straight through half-filled-in walls and leapt over still-opening chasms.
Eventually the world's artist seemed to give up on creating a castle around the Battlecleric, and instead quickly sketched out a massive, rocky valley, through the bottom of which ran Vuul. A humanoid figure, with crudely-drawn horns and wings, was colored in on one of the valley's ridges. It was surrounded by a small flashing black-and-white box, and suddenly there were hundreds of them, surrounding the valley. And then they all ran screaming down straight for Vuul.
Vuul was happy. His God was truly a caring God.
Vuul ran through a mental list of battle tactics, and decided the Ritual of Culling would be the most fitting for this situation. Which would mean he'd be using the Baal'mroom'Xhuum at Plygorrath incantation as his battle-chant.
He shifted his running stance into the Blazing Meteor, hunching forwards, now in an outright sprint. As the devils grew closer he began to swivel his upper torso, starting a spin. He built up speed. His crushing arm suddenly whipped outwards, Rend and Dominate passing mere inches from the nearest of the devils, slowing his spin and seeming to bring him off balance. When the arm was completely straight, his first elbow finally relaxed from its previous rigidity, and began to bend inwards towards his chest, while his send elbow bent back outwards. Rend and Dominate's blades were still at the end of his now folded-up arm. The movement had brought his center of gravity closer, speeding his spin, and he whipped around while shoving off with one hoof into the Meteor's Strike. He was spinning rather quickly by this point, and his chest speakers were only optimally aligned with his trajectory for a very short period of time. Luckily, the incantation he had chosen worked well with short bursts. Midair, spinning, descending upon the gibbering devils, he began his battle chant.
"WRITHE!"
The word came out as a wall of sound, like a thousand organs, blasting the nearby devils to the ground. Blood began to flow from their mouths, eyes, ears, nostrils... several simply did not get back up. Vuul's hooves crushed them as he landed, and he drowned them in the blood of their comrades. He pushed forwards, whipping his crushing arm around once more, cleaving a burning path through the red-skinned humanoids. His lower quickarm sliced outwards, the Emperor's Focus plasma sword quickly dispatching any devil which made it inside his crushing arm's reach. Rend and Dominate churned through the mass of fleshy, squishy devils, and Vuul was brilliant white fire at the center of its burning fury. Bodies melted and Vuul turned towards their dribbling remains.
"COWER!"
Again, the devils were blown to the ground, stunned, bleeding. Vuul thrust Rend and Dominate behind him, second elbow whipping the battleaxe's captured plasma through another group of devils. Vuul turned with the thrust.
"GROVEL!"
Cries and screams, and more devils were pushed back. Vuul spun and bodies burned. The euphoric trance of rapture began to creep at the edges of his awareness.
"FEAR YOUR FUTURE!"
The lower quickarm thrust the Emperor's Focus back in its scabbard, and drew its own Emperor's Gaze. Both quickarms began firing the plasma pistols in short, surgical bursts, frying devils too far away for Rend and Dominate. He began to funnel his enemies towards his front.
"FOR HE HAS JUDGED YOU!"
The devils fell before his righteous voice, and he carved through them like butter. He turned, slowly panning across the ones still behind him.
"AND YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND UNWORTHY!"
Plasma beams strafed the convulsing bodies, igniting flesh and searing through bone. Vuul had fully succumbed to his battle trance by this point. Pleasure-inducing chemicals flooded his system, and religious euphoria swept over him. He felt no fatigue, and no worry. He was doing holy work.
"BUT DESPAIR NOT!"
The wails of pain from the devils he drove before him seemed to imply they weren't really listening, but most enemies were deaf after the first word of a battle chant anyway.
And besides, he made certain their wails didn't last long.
"HE HAS GIFTED YOU TO ME!"
They weren't coming after him any more. He moved into the Meteor's Winter pattern, tracking down stragglers. Several started running when they saw him approaching. They fell to their knees at his divine invocation.
"AS A WAY TO REGAIN YOUR WORTH!"
Five left now. Grouped together, standing against him. Respectable. Futile.
"GIVE IN TO MY BLADE!"
Four heads rolled, but the fifth escaped by a hair's breadth, somehow scrabbling away at the last second. Vuul approached him. He raised Rend and Dominate above his head, assuming the Judgement's Eclipse stance.
"AND ALL WILL BE FORGIVEN!"
The devil's skin writhed at the proximity to such volume, and then Rend and Dominate did what it did best. Vuul straightened, having completed the Ritual, and began to scan the area.
Manic cackling drifted through the blood-soaked valley, and suddenly the bodies were erased. At the top of the valley stood a new figure, vaguely similar to what the Tormentor (he was still getting chills from even thinking the new Name) had called "Martin Holden". A human, if he remembered correctly. Soft, weak, inventive, dangerous in groups. This figure looked a little off, though. Vuul was no good at recognizing the details of the human face, as he'd had no need to, so the empty black eyes and the ear-to-ear grin went completely unnoticed. The proportions of the body, on the other hand, he noticed.
No matter. If they were of tactical relevance he would soon find out. The Tormentor had mentioned something about a gun, which told Vuul all he needed to know to assume a new battle tactic. He lurched into the Skirmisher's Approach, and returned Rend and Dominate to Furious. The Mk. II's disks telescoped outwards, turned one-quarter in opposite directions, and retracted, delivering the handle of Blaze and Subjugate to his waiting hand. He brought his crushing arm forwards again, the massive plasma cannon hanging beneath his second forearm, pointed straight at Martin-horror.