Wraithblade6 — Roleplayer Guild

Aldaric walked in awkward silence with brother Rathanael for several moments, each of them getting used to the idea of the other. Finally, the veteran spoke. His voice was unexpectedly quiet, yet Aldaric clearly caught every word. The former-captain recruit didn't immediately answer, and let their footfalls play a soothing rhythm in echos through the vast halls. Such patience was rewarded with exactly the kind of advice Aldaric had hoped for, personal. 

"...allow yourself to hate them with every fibre of your being, and you shall do the Emperor's work.”

Rathanael was seething with righteous ire to the point it deserved a commendation. Aldaric immediately absorbed and reflected his mood, not needing to question it. He too, had ire. The experience and personal maturity that had seen him promoted to captain had arisen ironically out of an ability to follow, thus he easily took cues from his mentor. The two were proving to be fairly well matched. 

Aldaric nodded in understanding, neither of them breaking their casual stride. Reflecting on Rathanael's words, the younger recalled his own anger against the xenos and allowed it to fill him, to flow in his blood like a drug. His answer was likewise quiet in return as they came within sight of the armory, "Hatred... yes. I do hate them. So let it become my greatest weapon." 

The two stopped in front of the armory. Of course the Ultramarines were already here....

@PKMNB0Y@TheFake@Raineh Daze (enjoy!)
- Daemon Magnus -

I walk alone.

- Zone 5+6 -

His proposal having been refused, Magnus turned his winged back to the pride and ignorance behind him. Hated, mocked, it was always the same, yet he didn't retaliate. He had no desire to prove himself to the blind, nor coerce obedience where it was not freely given. His task was only to crush those who got in his way. 

His offer was left like an open palm hanging in the air, waiting to join a hand that would never arrive. It seemed it would ever be his curse to walk alone. He accepted this, as always, but not without suppressing that twinge of melancholy that never failed to follow. Little did anyone know how deeply Magnus cherished true devotion, nor how far he would go to preserve it. The mages and clerics of the native denizens turned with him, wary of the standoffish strangers. 

Instantly, Magnus felt the ripples of emotion as keenly as he perceived the amassing of magic behind Gilgamesh, and he turned around. He recognized the formation of a portal wreathed in golden light behind Gilgamesh.  He watched as numerous weapons of all kinds suddenly emerged, floating individually, and all aimed at him. The intensity of Gilgamesh's ire stunningly rivaled that of a greater daemon, and if that was any indication of his power, Magnus couldn't afford to take it lightly. He faced his enemy and readied himself for a frontal, magical assault. 

It was only hours ago that he had underestimated the white-haired girl's swords, thus he knew he couldn't risk the same mistake with any of these otherworldling's weapons. Each of them had the potential to be more than purely physical. He was going to have to bother defending himself rather than ostentatiously relying on his fortitude and armor. 

The mortal humans and humanoids began to huddle in their intimidation, and Magnus stepped forward protectively. He didn't have time to formulate a response other than to glare furiously in the face of the oncoming barrage. He had to protect these beings and show them the value of magic. 

The weapons suddenly streamed forth with deadly speed, which seemed to be the logical expectation. Magnus responded by putting forth a magic deflection field big enough to shield himself and the others. The projectile weapons slammed into it. A rare few of them blew up instantly, but most generated this high pitched shriek sound as they appeared to be thrown off in different directions by a wall of bent space. They pinged and ricocheted directly into the ground in front of Magnus' clawed, red feet, a few shooting off into the sky and vanishing entirely. 

"Ah!" The daemon prince gasped unexpectedly as a single spear-like weapon made it through the magical barrier completely unaffected, wizzing past Magnus' shoulder and tearing a few feathers out of his wing. A scream from the mages behind him made clear that one of them was dead. 

The appearance of fangs made clear that Magnus was infuriated by this. As the initial barrage ended, he clenched his hand into a fist toward Gilgamesh. "You self-serving Slaaneshi scum! You'll pay for that!" Standing straight, he clenched his staff in two hands and began to do... something. The deflector field was still active, should the king of heroes decide he wanted to keep throwing things to try his luck. Warp magic then emminated from the daemon primarch, touching and corrupting all the mortals around him. "People of Phoria, my friends and followers, do not fear your enemy while I stand beside you! Accept this gift of my power within you, and together, we will be victorious!" Magnus had just boosted and tainted about 20 mages with chaos. 

The Phorian sorcerers had no reason not to trust their new ally, especially in light of their being clearly under attack, and so they accepted the extra power and knowledge Magnus unlocked in their minds. They were now psychically connected to him, able to coordinate their attacks or focus their power on him together. the effect was synergistic. 

Stomping a foot, Magnus unleashed a gout of flame that was intended to burn and consume all the weapons before him that had been thrust into the ground. The magical fire was also headed directly at Gilgamesh and anyone still next to him.

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