Supreme High Marshall
Location: Taspir III
Time: 0400 hours Galactic Standard time, 0543 local time.
Primary Objective: Secure an area for the Twin gods.
Secondary Objective: Locate Information on missing War Bands in the Nether...
Stars moved slowly passed in the portholes as the large ship moved through space. It's massive frame, dull from time and wear, groaned as the ship made it's steady progress. The echos of foot falls rang through the empty corridors as the Supreme High Marshall made his way through the ship. These same corridors had once rang out with voices and people, brothers and sisters dedicated to the Gods, and filled with their holy fire. Gone, so many gone. All, lost in the Nether storms, separated and presumed dead. He hated the order to move on. He prayed to the Gods that they would reunite one and all, but this was not the galaxy he had left when they set out on their great crusade, and he could only bend his knees in obedience to the will of the Gods. His feet fell heavier as he passed the training deck and he settled his eyes on the few neophytes that had survived the decade long battle across the Nether plains. They had been raised to full protectors long ago now, and the few Aspirants they had left were still in need of Consecration.
He walked in to see the Protectors that were not at post being drilled by a Veteran Sergeant. Their bodies in full armor as they followed the training they lived by. The Sergeant called a halt to the activities and commanded the men to attention as he declared Supreme High Marshall on deck. It was more than formality. It was symbolic of the respect for the rank and as such respect for the Gods that had created it. The God-king of Order and The God-queen of change had set their hands out upon them eons ago and in their wisdom had created Rickhardt and his siblings before the Gods of Hate and Malevolence had murdered their mortal bodies in a vain attempt to weaken them. Foolish.
"The Gods preserve." Rickhardt said returning the salutes.
"THE GODS PRESERVE!" Came their response.
"Continue Sergeant, I shall observe if I may." Rickhardt said as he removed his helm and stuffed it under one huge arm.
"As you command, Supreme High Marshall." The Sergeant replied before the hum of power swords filled the room and the Protectors began sparing in choreographed motions back and forth.
They were like his children, all 1000 modeled after his own genetics as the Gods had decreed when they themselves had made his siblings and he. They were his progeny as surely as he and his Siblings were children of the Gods. He steped forward and adjusted a Protector's posture and proclaimed the Sergeant as doing an excellent job before he moved on. He still needed to pray before they made it to the world their Pathfinder had lead them to based on one of the the holy visions bestowed upon the Master of Sanctity.
His mind roiled like storm clouds as he thought about the strange things they had seen and heard while navigating away from the Galaxies denizens. Worlds, systems, governments were all far different now than when they had left and the only answer the War council could come up with was they had been cast through time whilst battling the fell beings of the Nether. He hoped his siblings were likewise cast astray and not worse. He hoped and prayed that each day.
Finally his feet found their way to the Altar Sanctificus that stood before the Sarcophagii Divine that housed the holy remains of their Twin Gods, "May they be ever praised.". He moved inside the large chamber and dropped to his knees with a huge crash before setting his helm aside and pressing his forehead to the deck before the Altar. Only a single Acolyte, who was there to wash the holy Sarcophagii, bore witness as Rickhardt waited on hands and knees before the Altar.
"I, Rickhardt Voidborn, so named Netherbane, bow before your most holy presences to once more pledge myself unto you before battle. Oh, most holy ones I swear once more to suffer not the unclean to live. To uphold the honour of You my most Holy Gods. I swear to abhor the Nether-witch, to destroy the Nether-witch, and to accept any challenge, no matter the odds, as You Yourselves exemplified. I pledge my sword and my life to You and beg you let me remain your humble slave for another mission. In Your names I pray, So let it be."
"So let it be." The Acolyte echoed before saluting and returning to his work.
The large being rose and donned his helm before backing out of the room and moving toward the Bridge. His mind calmed, his heart focused and his body ready to once more give of itself for the Gods' will.
He moved onto the bridge and was greeted with Attention on deck and Salutes before he returned the salute, hand crashing soundly against his chest plate above his hearts, before they returned to their duties.
"Report High Marshall Sicarious." Rickhardt said firmly, his deep voice rumbled up from the depths of his chest.
"Supreme High Marshall." The slightly smaller man said with another salute, "We are 50 minutes from our destination and the location Master of Sanctity Protus described."
"Excellent, Brother." Rickhardt said as he moved toward the Tactical Displays of the planet on their sensors. The planet displayed in greens and blues with vectors highlighted to land as near the site of the unholy gate to the realms of the evil Nether gods. "Then I give you command of The King's Justice and go to lead the Assault Party myself. Stay in constant Comm contact. Catalogue everything for the annals in case it is needed later. Beware, the planet's inhabitants, keep your distance after we drop we need not risk everyone before the gate is closed. The chances that the world has fallen to the Nether is high. Stay vigilant."
"As you command, Supreme High Marshall, and may the Gods guide you." Sicarious said as he placed a hand up on his commander's shoulder.
"And you Sicarious." Rickhardt said mirroring the motion before he moved Aft to make ready the drop pods.
The ship moved slowly above the planet and prepared for the long distance drop of the pods. There would be 4 pods dropping, a full hundred Protectoris Aeterna, and they would find the Nether-gate and Secure it until such a time as they could close it for good. His holy sword strapped to his back and his power rifle in hand he entered the first pod with his men. The countdown had went to seconds after each warrior had been sent to renew their vows and pray before deployment.
3...
He took a breath.
2...
He closed his eyes.
1...
He opened his eyes and exhaled as the pods were jettisoned from the dorsal bomb bay doors and tumbled toward the world in the distance. They sped through space as other ships could be seen as lights in the distance from the lone porthole. It was hard to imagine how many came to a world so likely corrupted by evil. Perhaps, the evil had spread farther than even he had feared.
Finally the propulsion systems engaged and navigated them to a large mountian range. The mountains of a desolate world unlike anything he had seen in his life. His homeworld had been barren and ice covered before he was sent out into the stars on his crusade. The pods decelerated quickly as they neared the ground but they still landed with a crash before the pod folded open and they could fan out and form a tight perimeter.
The other pods came quickly after the first and landed in a spread out line across the mountain but within a mile or two of eachother. An excellent drop from that range. Step one would have to be regroup. Step two would be to find the gate, push any nether-spawn back in and then seal it or post men to defend it indefinitely. He hoped for the former but any thing to protect the galaxy from this evil was worth the cost.
Time: 0400 hours Galactic Standard time, 0543 local time.
Primary Objective: Secure an area for the Twin gods.
Secondary Objective: Locate Information on missing War Bands in the Nether...
Stars moved slowly passed in the portholes as the large ship moved through space. It's massive frame, dull from time and wear, groaned as the ship made it's steady progress. The echos of foot falls rang through the empty corridors as the Supreme High Marshall made his way through the ship. These same corridors had once rang out with voices and people, brothers and sisters dedicated to the Gods, and filled with their holy fire. Gone, so many gone. All, lost in the Nether storms, separated and presumed dead. He hated the order to move on. He prayed to the Gods that they would reunite one and all, but this was not the galaxy he had left when they set out on their great crusade, and he could only bend his knees in obedience to the will of the Gods. His feet fell heavier as he passed the training deck and he settled his eyes on the few neophytes that had survived the decade long battle across the Nether plains. They had been raised to full protectors long ago now, and the few Aspirants they had left were still in need of Consecration.
He walked in to see the Protectors that were not at post being drilled by a Veteran Sergeant. Their bodies in full armor as they followed the training they lived by. The Sergeant called a halt to the activities and commanded the men to attention as he declared Supreme High Marshall on deck. It was more than formality. It was symbolic of the respect for the rank and as such respect for the Gods that had created it. The God-king of Order and The God-queen of change had set their hands out upon them eons ago and in their wisdom had created Rickhardt and his siblings before the Gods of Hate and Malevolence had murdered their mortal bodies in a vain attempt to weaken them. Foolish.
"The Gods preserve." Rickhardt said returning the salutes.
"THE GODS PRESERVE!" Came their response.
"Continue Sergeant, I shall observe if I may." Rickhardt said as he removed his helm and stuffed it under one huge arm.
"As you command, Supreme High Marshall." The Sergeant replied before the hum of power swords filled the room and the Protectors began sparing in choreographed motions back and forth.
They were like his children, all 1000 modeled after his own genetics as the Gods had decreed when they themselves had made his siblings and he. They were his progeny as surely as he and his Siblings were children of the Gods. He steped forward and adjusted a Protector's posture and proclaimed the Sergeant as doing an excellent job before he moved on. He still needed to pray before they made it to the world their Pathfinder had lead them to based on one of the the holy visions bestowed upon the Master of Sanctity.
His mind roiled like storm clouds as he thought about the strange things they had seen and heard while navigating away from the Galaxies denizens. Worlds, systems, governments were all far different now than when they had left and the only answer the War council could come up with was they had been cast through time whilst battling the fell beings of the Nether. He hoped his siblings were likewise cast astray and not worse. He hoped and prayed that each day.
Finally his feet found their way to the Altar Sanctificus that stood before the Sarcophagii Divine that housed the holy remains of their Twin Gods, "May they be ever praised.". He moved inside the large chamber and dropped to his knees with a huge crash before setting his helm aside and pressing his forehead to the deck before the Altar. Only a single Acolyte, who was there to wash the holy Sarcophagii, bore witness as Rickhardt waited on hands and knees before the Altar.
"I, Rickhardt Voidborn, so named Netherbane, bow before your most holy presences to once more pledge myself unto you before battle. Oh, most holy ones I swear once more to suffer not the unclean to live. To uphold the honour of You my most Holy Gods. I swear to abhor the Nether-witch, to destroy the Nether-witch, and to accept any challenge, no matter the odds, as You Yourselves exemplified. I pledge my sword and my life to You and beg you let me remain your humble slave for another mission. In Your names I pray, So let it be."
"So let it be." The Acolyte echoed before saluting and returning to his work.
The large being rose and donned his helm before backing out of the room and moving toward the Bridge. His mind calmed, his heart focused and his body ready to once more give of itself for the Gods' will.
He moved onto the bridge and was greeted with Attention on deck and Salutes before he returned the salute, hand crashing soundly against his chest plate above his hearts, before they returned to their duties.
"Report High Marshall Sicarious." Rickhardt said firmly, his deep voice rumbled up from the depths of his chest.
"Supreme High Marshall." The slightly smaller man said with another salute, "We are 50 minutes from our destination and the location Master of Sanctity Protus described."
"Excellent, Brother." Rickhardt said as he moved toward the Tactical Displays of the planet on their sensors. The planet displayed in greens and blues with vectors highlighted to land as near the site of the unholy gate to the realms of the evil Nether gods. "Then I give you command of The King's Justice and go to lead the Assault Party myself. Stay in constant Comm contact. Catalogue everything for the annals in case it is needed later. Beware, the planet's inhabitants, keep your distance after we drop we need not risk everyone before the gate is closed. The chances that the world has fallen to the Nether is high. Stay vigilant."
"As you command, Supreme High Marshall, and may the Gods guide you." Sicarious said as he placed a hand up on his commander's shoulder.
"And you Sicarious." Rickhardt said mirroring the motion before he moved Aft to make ready the drop pods.
The ship moved slowly above the planet and prepared for the long distance drop of the pods. There would be 4 pods dropping, a full hundred Protectoris Aeterna, and they would find the Nether-gate and Secure it until such a time as they could close it for good. His holy sword strapped to his back and his power rifle in hand he entered the first pod with his men. The countdown had went to seconds after each warrior had been sent to renew their vows and pray before deployment.
3...
He took a breath.
2...
He closed his eyes.
1...
He opened his eyes and exhaled as the pods were jettisoned from the dorsal bomb bay doors and tumbled toward the world in the distance. They sped through space as other ships could be seen as lights in the distance from the lone porthole. It was hard to imagine how many came to a world so likely corrupted by evil. Perhaps, the evil had spread farther than even he had feared.
Finally the propulsion systems engaged and navigated them to a large mountian range. The mountains of a desolate world unlike anything he had seen in his life. His homeworld had been barren and ice covered before he was sent out into the stars on his crusade. The pods decelerated quickly as they neared the ground but they still landed with a crash before the pod folded open and they could fan out and form a tight perimeter.
The other pods came quickly after the first and landed in a spread out line across the mountain but within a mile or two of eachother. An excellent drop from that range. Step one would have to be regroup. Step two would be to find the gate, push any nether-spawn back in and then seal it or post men to defend it indefinitely. He hoped for the former but any thing to protect the galaxy from this evil was worth the cost.