Tichondrius Illitharis
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- Ebony Wand 15" Essence of Phoenix Talon
Prologue
Thunder rolled, lightning ripping the black sky apart. The halls around him echoed as Carcius walked forth. He could sense his enemy, his opponent easily. The stench of his corruption tainted the very air around him. Too many of his brothers had fallen this day for him to fail now. Carcius tightened the grip on his halberd, the feel of the weapon in his hand comforting in the dark gloom of the temple. He paused, letting his gaze sweep the walls of the black temple. Symbols that hurt his eye were drawn in fresh blood, covering the walls in a pattern he did not want to discern. The walls pulsed under his gaze and Carcius knew that if he were to put his hand on the wall, he would feel it pulsing underneath, the very stone alive with the foul powers of sorcery.
He walked forward, the trail of corruption drawing him forth. The floor was covered with blood, and here and there bodies hung from spikes, horribly mutilated and desecrated. Most wore the robes of the priests of the temple; some wore the simple attire of villagemen. Carcius quickened his pace, knowing that time was running out. In the shadows of the side passageways, things stirred and hungered for his blood. But as he passed them, they cringed, shying away from him. His armour, wrought of cold iron and inlaid with numerous wards and litanies of purity served to amplify the wards tatooed into his own skin, and Carcius' mind was one of steel and faith. His very presence was an anathema to the lesser daemons, and they dared not approach him.
Before him, the passagway ended in a tall door, ebony wood inlaid with gold filligree. Without breaking his step, Carcius gestured with his halbered, forcing his will through the weapon. A blast of pure force shot forward, shattering the door into fragments that were blasted in. With another thought, Carcius set the fragments alight with holy fire, the wooden chips bursting into silver flame. Screams of pain and outrage erupted, far too sharp and bestial to have come from fully human throats. Bursting through the portal, Carcius took in the scene of madness in an instant.
The hall in which he found himself was large, almost like a cave. Before him was a large high backed throne, that sat on a pile of skulls. Surrounding the throne were a dozen armoured and faceless warriors. On the throne was a single figure, almost a giant compared to the others, wearing ornate and ancient armour. His skin was pale and veined, his teeth were needles and his eyes burned with hatred and anger. Numerous trophies adorned his armour, tied together by a rope made of human skin. On his back was a massive zweihander, which Carcius knew was covered with thousands of tiny mouths that constantly thirsted for blood. He was a champion of the Dark Powers of Chaos, and Carcius knew him well. "Agron," he hissed.
Agron laughed. "Foolish daemonhunter. I knew you would come. I can feel the death of your fellows outside, as they struggle to give you time to kill me. Fools. In the end you still serve the purposes of Khorne. The blood spilt, yours or that of my minions, all give glory to the Blood God."
Carcius took up a combat stance, readying his will. "No. I am a daemonhunter. You will die this day, Agron, and pay for all that you have done to the people around you."
Agron laughed again. "Always so hasty for the kill, you daemonhunters. Not so different from us, then."
Carcius hissed in anger. "We are not alike, traitor! I do not bow my head to Chaos! I serve to protect the innocents from the foul touch of your dark masters."
Agron sighed, reaching out to pluck a chalice standing nearby, and draining its contents in one gulp. Thick, red blood poured into his throat. "You bore me with your preaching, daemonhunter." Waving his hand at Carcius he said to his guards, "Kill him."
As one, the dozen guards charged forward, their serrated blades materializing from nothing. Carcius ducked the blow of the first to reach him, then stabbed the halberd up, punching clean through the armour and slashing free of the guard. The armour shivered, and collapsed in a dull clang; there was no one inside it. The suits were powered by spirits of bloodlust, hatred and malice. He blocked the strike of the second one, then swung a gaunleted fist at it. As he did so, Carcius focussed his will, and blue fire burst into life around his fist. The gaunlet punched through the helmet, the cursed steel melting under the sapphire fire. Sweeping his halberd down, he barely blocked the strike from the third, but before he could retaliate, the fourth swung the serrated blade at his head. Dropping down, Carcius slammed his free hand into the ground. A wave of force rippled out from his hand, battering the daemonic suits off their feets.
Rising quickly, Carcius stabbed one in the chest before it could recover, and flicked his hand at another. The ground around the suit rose up and smashed down on it, flattening it instantly. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his leg, and felt as though his left leg was on fire. Turning around, he saw that one of the suits had stabbed him from the ground, the serrated blade punching through the weak rear armour of his left leg. Howling in fury, he brought the halberd around, slashing off its arms and head in a single swipe. Whirling back to face his remaining foes, he caught a strike in his hand, and pulled the daemonic suit in, impaling it on his halberd. Kicking the now-lifeless armour off the weapon, he ducked a blow from yet another daemonic armour, and slapped an open hand against the suit. With an effort of will, the magical forces sustaining the daemon, allowing it to exisist in the armour, were severed, causing the armour to drop noisily to the floor. Blocking another of the daemonic weapons Carcius slashed off the legs of its wielder, then brought the halberd around again to take its head off. 'Eight down, four to go', Carcius thought, and turned to seek the four survivors, when instinct yelled at him to create a shield. Trusting his instinct, Carcius brought up a shield with the ease and speed of long practice.
Barely seconds after the shield formed, it flared a bright silver as a bolt of daemonic energy smashed against it. "You put up a good fight, daemonhunter," Agron said, letting his hand fall down to his side. "A pity you did not choose to embrace Chaos. You could've been a Chosen of Khorne too." He slid the daemonblade from its scabbard. "No matter. My blade has not tasted blood in some days. You will be a fitting meal for it." With that he charged.
Carcius barely had time to raise his halberd to block Agron's blow. He might have been fast, but the Chaos champion was far faster. Even as he did so, Carcius felt his mind come under attack, deadly blows hammering against his mental shield. Carcius could barely block each of Agron's mighty blows, and Agron easily dodged his counterstrikes. Slowly but surely, he felt himself being driven back, where the four surviving suits waited to stab him in the back, even as his mind's defenses wavered until Agron's mental assault. Throwing caution to the winds, he gathered his will and his strength. As Agron's next blow came, both physically and mentally, Carcius slammed the full force of his will back into Agron's mind, causing him to flinch, and drop his daemonblade. Carcius kicked the daemonblade aside and stabbed Agron in the chest.
The Chaos champion roared in fury and anger, as the holy weapon set his very flesh alight. Silver light flickered from the wound, and Carcius brought the halberd around to decapitate Agron. The champion's hand blurred and caught the halberd, while his other hand punched Carcius in the stomach, causing his armour to buckle and sending him flying. "You dare make me bleed?! Foolish daemonhunter, I am Agron the Bloodrinker! I have killed over a million men! I am immortal! You cannot win against me!"
Even as he climbed to his feet, Carcius smiled. "I have already won, Agron," Carcius said. "I have made you hurt. I have made you feel pain. With my blessed weapon I have rent a hole in your cursed form. Even if I should perish now, you will always hurt. And when you hurt, you will think of me. And of the blow I gave you. That I made you bleed. I cannot lose, Agron. I have already won."
The Chaos champion roared his fury and charged at him to tear him apart with his bare hands, ignoring his blade on the floor. Even as the remaining animated suits closed in on him, Carcius cocked his halberd back, gathered his will, and launched the halberd at the charging champion. Lashing out with his will, he infused the halberd with all his energy, all his power, even as the first of the serrated blades came at him. Before his vision died, Carcius saw the halberd, propelled by his strength, accelerated by his will, infused with his energy, impale Agron, and nail him to his throne.
Thunder rolled, lightning ripping the black sky apart. The halls around him echoed as Carcius walked forth. He could sense his enemy, his opponent easily. The stench of his corruption tainted the very air around him. Too many of his brothers had fallen this day for him to fail now. Carcius tightened the grip on his halberd, the feel of the weapon in his hand comforting in the dark gloom of the temple. He paused, letting his gaze sweep the walls of the black temple. Symbols that hurt his eye were drawn in fresh blood, covering the walls in a pattern he did not want to discern. The walls pulsed under his gaze and Carcius knew that if he were to put his hand on the wall, he would feel it pulsing underneath, the very stone alive with the foul powers of sorcery.
He walked forward, the trail of corruption drawing him forth. The floor was covered with blood, and here and there bodies hung from spikes, horribly mutilated and desecrated. Most wore the robes of the priests of the temple; some wore the simple attire of villagemen. Carcius quickened his pace, knowing that time was running out. In the shadows of the side passageways, things stirred and hungered for his blood. But as he passed them, they cringed, shying away from him. His armour, wrought of cold iron and inlaid with numerous wards and litanies of purity served to amplify the wards tatooed into his own skin, and Carcius' mind was one of steel and faith. His very presence was an anathema to the lesser daemons, and they dared not approach him.
Before him, the passagway ended in a tall door, ebony wood inlaid with gold filligree. Without breaking his step, Carcius gestured with his halbered, forcing his will through the weapon. A blast of pure force shot forward, shattering the door into fragments that were blasted in. With another thought, Carcius set the fragments alight with holy fire, the wooden chips bursting into silver flame. Screams of pain and outrage erupted, far too sharp and bestial to have come from fully human throats. Bursting through the portal, Carcius took in the scene of madness in an instant.
The hall in which he found himself was large, almost like a cave. Before him was a large high backed throne, that sat on a pile of skulls. Surrounding the throne were a dozen armoured and faceless warriors. On the throne was a single figure, almost a giant compared to the others, wearing ornate and ancient armour. His skin was pale and veined, his teeth were needles and his eyes burned with hatred and anger. Numerous trophies adorned his armour, tied together by a rope made of human skin. On his back was a massive zweihander, which Carcius knew was covered with thousands of tiny mouths that constantly thirsted for blood. He was a champion of the Dark Powers of Chaos, and Carcius knew him well. "Agron," he hissed.
Agron laughed. "Foolish daemonhunter. I knew you would come. I can feel the death of your fellows outside, as they struggle to give you time to kill me. Fools. In the end you still serve the purposes of Khorne. The blood spilt, yours or that of my minions, all give glory to the Blood God."
Carcius took up a combat stance, readying his will. "No. I am a daemonhunter. You will die this day, Agron, and pay for all that you have done to the people around you."
Agron laughed again. "Always so hasty for the kill, you daemonhunters. Not so different from us, then."
Carcius hissed in anger. "We are not alike, traitor! I do not bow my head to Chaos! I serve to protect the innocents from the foul touch of your dark masters."
Agron sighed, reaching out to pluck a chalice standing nearby, and draining its contents in one gulp. Thick, red blood poured into his throat. "You bore me with your preaching, daemonhunter." Waving his hand at Carcius he said to his guards, "Kill him."
As one, the dozen guards charged forward, their serrated blades materializing from nothing. Carcius ducked the blow of the first to reach him, then stabbed the halberd up, punching clean through the armour and slashing free of the guard. The armour shivered, and collapsed in a dull clang; there was no one inside it. The suits were powered by spirits of bloodlust, hatred and malice. He blocked the strike of the second one, then swung a gaunleted fist at it. As he did so, Carcius focussed his will, and blue fire burst into life around his fist. The gaunlet punched through the helmet, the cursed steel melting under the sapphire fire. Sweeping his halberd down, he barely blocked the strike from the third, but before he could retaliate, the fourth swung the serrated blade at his head. Dropping down, Carcius slammed his free hand into the ground. A wave of force rippled out from his hand, battering the daemonic suits off their feets.
Rising quickly, Carcius stabbed one in the chest before it could recover, and flicked his hand at another. The ground around the suit rose up and smashed down on it, flattening it instantly. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his leg, and felt as though his left leg was on fire. Turning around, he saw that one of the suits had stabbed him from the ground, the serrated blade punching through the weak rear armour of his left leg. Howling in fury, he brought the halberd around, slashing off its arms and head in a single swipe. Whirling back to face his remaining foes, he caught a strike in his hand, and pulled the daemonic suit in, impaling it on his halberd. Kicking the now-lifeless armour off the weapon, he ducked a blow from yet another daemonic armour, and slapped an open hand against the suit. With an effort of will, the magical forces sustaining the daemon, allowing it to exisist in the armour, were severed, causing the armour to drop noisily to the floor. Blocking another of the daemonic weapons Carcius slashed off the legs of its wielder, then brought the halberd around again to take its head off. 'Eight down, four to go', Carcius thought, and turned to seek the four survivors, when instinct yelled at him to create a shield. Trusting his instinct, Carcius brought up a shield with the ease and speed of long practice.
Barely seconds after the shield formed, it flared a bright silver as a bolt of daemonic energy smashed against it. "You put up a good fight, daemonhunter," Agron said, letting his hand fall down to his side. "A pity you did not choose to embrace Chaos. You could've been a Chosen of Khorne too." He slid the daemonblade from its scabbard. "No matter. My blade has not tasted blood in some days. You will be a fitting meal for it." With that he charged.
Carcius barely had time to raise his halberd to block Agron's blow. He might have been fast, but the Chaos champion was far faster. Even as he did so, Carcius felt his mind come under attack, deadly blows hammering against his mental shield. Carcius could barely block each of Agron's mighty blows, and Agron easily dodged his counterstrikes. Slowly but surely, he felt himself being driven back, where the four surviving suits waited to stab him in the back, even as his mind's defenses wavered until Agron's mental assault. Throwing caution to the winds, he gathered his will and his strength. As Agron's next blow came, both physically and mentally, Carcius slammed the full force of his will back into Agron's mind, causing him to flinch, and drop his daemonblade. Carcius kicked the daemonblade aside and stabbed Agron in the chest.
The Chaos champion roared in fury and anger, as the holy weapon set his very flesh alight. Silver light flickered from the wound, and Carcius brought the halberd around to decapitate Agron. The champion's hand blurred and caught the halberd, while his other hand punched Carcius in the stomach, causing his armour to buckle and sending him flying. "You dare make me bleed?! Foolish daemonhunter, I am Agron the Bloodrinker! I have killed over a million men! I am immortal! You cannot win against me!"
Even as he climbed to his feet, Carcius smiled. "I have already won, Agron," Carcius said. "I have made you hurt. I have made you feel pain. With my blessed weapon I have rent a hole in your cursed form. Even if I should perish now, you will always hurt. And when you hurt, you will think of me. And of the blow I gave you. That I made you bleed. I cannot lose, Agron. I have already won."
The Chaos champion roared his fury and charged at him to tear him apart with his bare hands, ignoring his blade on the floor. Even as the remaining animated suits closed in on him, Carcius cocked his halberd back, gathered his will, and launched the halberd at the charging champion. Lashing out with his will, he infused the halberd with all his energy, all his power, even as the first of the serrated blades came at him. Before his vision died, Carcius saw the halberd, propelled by his strength, accelerated by his will, infused with his energy, impale Agron, and nail him to his throne.