Chapter 25. Divided We Fall
The
remaining dozen Daemonettes of Slaanesh had evaded Bob and Joes' rock fall. As they mounted the narrow stair at the north side
of the dinner gong chamber, the ogres and monsters were occupied by the process
of sweeping the pestilence of Nurgle off the ramp for the sixth time.
The
defenders still fought fiercely, but their numbers had started to dwindle. A few had fought their last battle and lay
still upon the concourse. Others, too
wounded to continue the cycle of charge, smash and withdraw, had crawled or
been dragged into the shadow of the battle wagon, which was still chocked near
the temple gate.
Ordinarily
the daemonettes would have fallen on the wounded and gorged themselves on the
pain and fear of their victims before they died. This time they were pulled magnetically
through the unoccupied gong chamber and onto the bridge to nowhere.
Like
bees to honey, they were drawn to the delicious scent of pain and anguish which
oozed from Hellun of Troyarg's every pore.
When
Welhung had left her to settle accounts with the Lord of Bees Hellun propped
herself up against the bridge's low parapet.
Her labour was well advanced, but her womb stubbornly refused to release
her child, until her deity was appeased.
The
Great Maw stubbornly refused to break its fast.
It had not even accepted the sacrifice of the powerful Herald of Nurgle,
moments earlier.
Hellun
was alone, and at the last extremity of hopelessness, exhaustion, grief and agony. The daemonettes who now clustered in front of
her savoured the sensations.
"We
feel your anguish sister" one of
the depraved ones addressed her.
"It is a tribute worthy for our lord, Slaanesh himself. Would you have us give you release from your
suffering?" She raised a claw
suggestively.
Hellun
looked up with glassy eyes. "You
would give me release?" She
whispered, then screwed up her eyes.
"GIVE...ME...AN...EPIDURAL!!!!!!!!"
The
screech was the loudest sound ever uttered by a mortal throat. No banshee could have emulated it in its
octave range or its intensity. The
daemonettes' physical forms were shredded to atoms, and their daemonic essences
were violently and permanently torn from the mortal plane of existence.
In
his pleasure palace in the Realm of Chaos, Slaanesh winced.
*****
Bob
and Joe were carefully scrambling over the scree of rubble they had created,
when the sonic wave struck like a battering ram. Not for the first time they thanked the Old
Ones for their lack of ears. After that,
they needed all their energies and concentration to ride clear of the rocks
which had been startled back into motion.
Once
they had their feet back on solid earth they dusted themselves off. When they turned to recommence their pursuit
of the daemonettes they found their way blocked by a pair of tree-like legs
which ended in black cloven hooves. The
legs were clad in brass filigreed greaves and cuisses.
Their
eyes tracked upwards to take in the full terror of Greater Daemon of
Khorne. The Bloodthirster's black wings
were spread, his eyes were aflame, and his clawed hands were clenched around a
dully glowing brass axe. The axe alone
was easily taller than both lizardmen combined.
"Spears
up!" Bob pushed Joe forward. As he stepped back a pace, just to make sure
that the Bloodthirster knew who his challenger was, Bob became aware of another
presence behind him.
The
second daemon lord was leaner and smoother than the Khorneling, but no less
menacing. The purple daemon had an extra pair of arms which ended in
scissor-like claws. In one of its more
normal hands it held a whip with several thongs which ended in scorpion
stings. The other held a magical staff
tipped with the symbol of Slaanesh.
"Oh
great!" Bob moaned, "Now I'm
going to be consumed by an exalted Keeper of Secrets, and my soul will be
chained for all eternity in the Pleasure Palace to gratify Slaanesh's
lusts! How could this be worse?"
The
Keeper of Secrets leered hungrily.
"Don't
be stupid!" Joe berated him,
"Being decapitated and having your gleaming skull presented to the mighty
Blood God, Khorne, is much worse. Khorne
is rage and hate and violence all bundled together. Much worse."
"Slaanesh
is worse! I can't even imagine the
degrading acts that I will be forced to perform!"
"Khorne
is worse! He sits on a throne made of
skulls. I don't want to be a
bauble!"
"Slaanesh
is worse!"
"Khorne!"
"Slaanesh!"
"Khorne!"
"Slaanesh!"
"Raaargh! Enough!"
The Bloodthirster had tired of the interplay. "My Lord Khorne is the mightiest! He alone is to be worshipped and
feared!"
"Khorne? He is so.....crude." The rival daemon mused. "His emotional range only goes from
annoyance to fury. There is so much more
to be... experienced. Lord Slaanesh is
greater."
The
Bloodthirster brushed the two saurus aside with the flat of his axe and stood
nose to nose with the Slaaneshi.
"Khorne is greatest! Lust
for nothing except hate! Raaargh!"
The
Keeper of Secrets rolled his eyes.
"Slaanesh is greater."
"Khorne!"
"Slaanesh!"
"Khorne!"
"Slaanesh!"
"
Khorne is greatest! Raaaargh!" The Bloodthirster smashed his axe into the
flagstones at the Slaaneshi's feet, knocking him back a few steps.
The
Keeper of Secrets, dusted himself off with his whip.
"Your
mighty Khorne cannot do this..." He
thrust his staff forward and the symbol of Slaanesh, a spiky combination of
orbs and crescents, began to glow. A
stream of sensations poured into the Khornate beast's unprepared amygdala."
It
was the Bloodthirster's turn to be driven back, as a wave of love, melancholy,
sympathy, pride, grief, affection and despair flooded through him. The brass axed fell from his nerveless
fingers. When the storm of emotion
abated, the Daemon wiped a single steaming tear of joy and sadness from his
eye.
"You
are right. Khorne cannot give these.....feelings..." He raised his head. "...but I wonder what your Slaanesh
thinks of THIS feeling..."
The
Bloodthirster seized the Slaaneshi's spiky staff and began a spirited effort to
stick it up the Keeper of Secrets' bottom.
"I
think we should leave them to it," whispered Bob, and he and Joe tiptoed
back to the Temple of the Great Maw.
In
his Pleasure Palace in the Realm of Chaos, Slaanesh's eyes began to water.
*****
Bob
and Joe arrived on the ramp at the same time as Mahtis and Rychek.
"Nothing
left to kill in the swamp," rumbled Mahtis sadly.
"How
about the north flank?" asked
Rychek.
"Erm... No significant conflict to report." replied Joe.
"Yowie!" There was a faintly heard scream from the
ruins. Rychek raised a scaly eyebrow,
but neither Bob nor Joe would meet his eyes.
"Caneghem! How goes the battle here?"
The
skink priest called down from Bessie's back.
"We've got a battle wagon we can't use and two tiring
monsters. The good news is that most of
the ogres still stand. They can hold up
groups of light infantry all night."
"What
about those?" Joe pointed to the
base of the concourse.
"Those
could pose a problem."
Eight
gleaming Juggernauts of Khorne had picked their way out of the boulders with
their Bloodcrusher riders on their backs. The unit of magically animated brass monsters easily
out massed the remaining ogres and they had the speed to outmanoeuvre Bessie
and Rudolph.
Rodekhil
and Argsplat ambled over to join the discussion.
"If
they get the charge, they'll roll over the top of us." Rodekhil scratched his chin. "We could risk a charge on them, but I'm
not certain that we would 'ave enough impact to break them."
"You
should get the wounded back inside the temple." Rychek glanced back at the ogres who were tending
each other's wounds in the lee of the abandoned battle wagon. "What about a chariot charge. Enough impact?"
Rodekhil
snorted. "We can't turn the wagon
before they get 'ere and Rudolph is just about spent. That thing turned out to be just a big, spiky,
rolling piece of deathtrap pie."
"It
would be selfish not to share,"
Rychek observed.
The
ogre pondered, "Since we're not
using it for anything... we could let them daemons 'ave a slice."
"Set
it ablaze. That should spice things
up," Bob contributed.
"Ooh!
Ooh!" Argsplat flapped his hand and
hook, "You! Ugly! Come with me!" He stumped into the temple building without
waiting for a response.
Caneghem
looked at Rychek, who looked at Joe. Joe
looked at Bob, who aside from his eggshell, was pretty much identical to his
spawnkin. They all looked at Mahtis.
Mahtis
curled his lip and sulked after the broken ogre. A minute later both returned, laden with the
kegs of black pepper.
"Tastes
awful anyway," explained Argsplat
as he loaded the casks into the wagon.
"I've got more of a sweet tooth." He pointed at his one remaining yellowed molar,
then tossed a flaming torch into the wagon.
"Shouldn't
we, err...." Joe peered nervously
at the blazing contraption.
The
whole group leapt to remove the chocks which had kept the chariot in
place. It groaned into motion and slowly
gathered speed as it meandered down the ramp.
Halfway down, it was well alight and moving apace. The Bloodcrushers merely split their formation
and waited for the cart to trundle between them.
As
the battle wagon drew abreast of the monstrous cavalry, it bounced violently
over a loose cobble. This must have
dislodged the bung in one of the kegs.
The wagon erupted in a ball of red flame and white smoke. The rocks, which the ogres had collected to
use as missiles, and the sharpened bamboo stakes were hurled in all directions
along with the iron bound wheels and heavy wooden structure of the wagon
itself.
The
Bloodcrushers were obliterated.
The
detonation also levelled the terrain at the base of the ramp. Without the screen of boulders which had sat
there, innumerable daemons could be seen swarming like insects. They crept up the ramp like an inexorable
tide.
SomeTHING
oozed its way up through the mass of lesser fiends.
"Divided We Fall" with Lizardmen fighting Daemons. Where have I read something like that before...
ReplyDeleteMy first comment!
DeleteI had once considered listing all the ideas I "stole" from you, Scalenex. (I prefer to consider it "convergent evolution"....) but my hard drive only holds 400 Gigabytes.
SoB