Jul 16, 2014 This album, while not as good as Tides of Man's other album Empire Theory in my opinion, is still very much worth a listen.
Benjamin flopped into a plush leather chair in his personal quarters aboard Dread Perceptor and reached over to snatch the crystal goblet of amasec from the polished hardwood side table next to the chair. The room was panelled with rare, fine grained, perfume-wood, a luxury that even the most successful rogue trader would struggle to attain. The inquisition would spare no expense for the needs of its officers however and DeSade smiled with satisfaction at his place in the galaxy. He had thought of sullying himself with destroying his sister but some small affection for the bitch remained in his heart and while he relished the thought of her death he did not relish the thought of having to face her in combat. That was for minions to undertake, most specifically his minion who awaited his pleasure in the very tunnels where his sister and her band of miscreants had fled to hide from the tau. Benjamin’s mood soured as he thought of the failure of the tau to eliminate her, the filthy xenos were incapable of getting even the most basic things right. If DeSade had not lured the Ultramarine fleet away it was doubtless the Tau force would have been decimated before they even made planet fall.
No matter, the issue would only be cause for a slight delay on the schedule. Bemjamin reached into a brocaded pocket under his opened jacket and took out a small com-bead device. He clicked it to establish a signal and issued his directives. “Seena, I have new orders for you.” Although the link seemed clear there was no response. Bemjamin raised his eyebrows quizzically.
“Seena, are you listening? I have new order for you, reply.” Still nothing, there were two options, first, Seena was dead, unlikely given her skills for murder and stealth and her knack of surviving against the odds. Second, she had betrayed him. The thought barely was worth contemplating, Seena was completely under Benjamin’s control, she was his most trusted servant, and she was virtually his right hand. She had not responded. She had betrayed him She must be found She must be destroyed She must be annihilated for her treachery.
Benjamin shrieked incoherently and threw the goblet across the room to smash against the panelled wall, ruining the priceless inlay with the sticky liquid. “You will pay for your treachery you bitch, you owe me your life and now I shall take it!” he screamed into the com bead hysterically. Benjamin Desade lurched out of the seat and stormed over to the cabin door to prepare a return to the planet’s surface, he would unleash bloody wrath upon his sister, the tau, the locals and most especially against that selfish, rebellious minion of an assassin, Seena Dawnstar.
Uthaniel woke. The pain was excruciating. Uthaniel clenched his teeth as the Canoness cleaned his stomach wound in the pale light of an arbite glow lantern, he did not know whether the bullet that he had been shot with was poisoned somehow or whether the immediate infection was the result of the putrid gases that swirled around them. DeSade had removed the bullet, a small heavy lead slug, unremarkable in every way. His carapace armour had offered little resistance to it though, as if he had been wounded by fate, maybe it was yet another trial set by the Holy Emperor. Saint Belsarius had been wounded seven times in battle before leading his faithful to a heroic victory over the ork horde.
“I will be fine, vengeance rests for no faithful soldier.” he snarled with vehemence. He pushed the Canoness away gently and she stood back although concern was clear on her face.
For a warrior woman of the Emperor Uthaniel thought she would be made of sterner stuff, he pitied her softness, holy war allowed no restraint and no forgiveness, only destruction of the enemies of mankind. Vamis pulled himself upright to address the few dozen faithful that remained, Brother Arok, still clutching his shotgun, a pair of Adeptus Arbites who stood quietly like automatons, a single Sister of Battle accompanying DeSade and a few handfuls of militia. “My friends, faithful of the Emperor” he began. “We are nearing our destination and soon there shall be a reckoning between our righteous cause and the invading xenos who seek to subjugate us to their evil ways.” Vamis’ head had begun to throb again, as it had before and during his vision. “Soon we cease our descent into the depths of these tunnels and we will rise like the phoenix of old to climb through the honoured dead and then into the heart of our place of worship itself.” His vision began to swim and visions began to form. “We will smite those who oppose us, death and damnation will reward those who turned against us and the streets will run with the blood of infidels.” He saw piles upon piles of mouldering corpses, blasted bodies reached for the sky looking for salvation, empty staring eyes of tau and men and gaping mouths chattering in their torment. “We are become death the saviour, we are the reaper that comes to claim the spent lives of the enemies, to plunge them into the abyss from which there is no return, we are death and from our knives there is no escape.DEATH TO TAU AND TRAITORS!” The survivors gave a ragged but hearty cheer.
Vamis saw tears run down the cheeks of the faithful, DeSade stood, her features masked by the long shadows. Behind her, the shadows stirred. Uthaniel’s eyes widened and he leapt forward, knocking the Cannoness aside as a monstrous hound leapt at her from the darkness. The snarling, twisted creature landed heavily amongst the survivors who stood shocked into inaction. In a baying chorus of howls more of the beasts rushed toward them like apocalyptic messengers.
Two or the milita were grabbed by the throat and tossed around to land torn and broken among the filth. Brother Arok delivered a point blank blast to the face of one of the monsters as it prepared to assault the Arch Deacon from behind and from the ground the Canoness managed to save Arok in turn with a hurried blast from her boltgun that clove a hound in two with its explosive force. One of the arbites slammed his power maul into the back of a lunging beast, clobbering it to the ground where the militia nearby bludgeoned and stabbed it to death, bringing it down with a flurry of vicious but unskilled blows. As he did so his companion was knocked to the ground and savaged, his faceless helm muffling his own howls of pain as dagger like fangs tore through his belly armour and buried themselves in his gut, wrenching free his organs.
Vamis staggered to his feet as the pain of his wound was forgotten and laid about him with Purity, a sweep clipped a hound behind its bat-winged ear, shattering its deformed skull. Another hound shied away from the looping weapon and slunk back into the shadows. And then it was quiet except for the heavy breathing of the survivors and the groans of the dying.
Less than three minutes and their band of a few dozen was down to eighteen. Uthaniel had not seen all the deathblows fall but the results were painfully clear.
The adrenaline of battle subsided and the pain of his wound returned, it seeped blood, discoloured with pus and plasma and stinking of rot. Only divine grace would save Uthaniel now and only the most worthy martyrs were gifted with that. The quest must continue and vengeance must be wreaked soon, or Uthaniel would lay dead among the undeserving teeming millions whose faith in the Emperor had not matched their deeds. Vamis was wounded and badly, Leanne could not understand how he could keep going. The attack by the mutant hounds had thinned their ranks but the Arch Deacon’s zeal only served to inspire the faithful who followed the bobbing glow light carried by the remaining arbite through the darkness.
Brother Arok caught up to Leanne where she marched in the line of pilgrims and pawed her sleeve for her attention. She raised her eyebrow at the assumed familiarity but in the darkness he would not have been able to see it.
“canoness, is the Arch Deacon hale?” he queried, his reedy voice quavering with uncertainty. “He has been wounded brother but his faith sustains him, he is an exemplary model of righteous and steadfast anger.” replied Leanne in a stern matriarchal voice. “canoness, no disrespect but I was a combat medic for twenty years and more in the Imperial guard and I ain’t seen no mortal man that can twist and fight like that with his guts ready to fall out, faith or no, if the Arch Deacon don’t stop moving soon his gonna be tripping over his intestines as he walks.” the ratty little man was highly agitated and Leanne decided that she would need to heed his advice.
“Arch Deacon.” she called through the gloom. Vamis’ silhouette turned in the gloom and waited for her to catch up. When she reached him she looked at him straight in the eyes to speak. She almost gasped in horror. Vamis’ eyes were bloodshot, his skin blotchy and grey, his hair had become brittle and his breath smelled of rotting flesh.
“Arch Deacon, you require assistance.” Leanne managed. The Arch Deacon smiled, exposing teeth that were covered in slimy film. “Canoness, my faith sustains me, fear not for my condition although I look fey to your eyes, it is merely the zeal that empowers me, driving me on to achieve our goal and obliterate the enemies of mankind.
The conditions of the flesh matter little to those empowered by righteous indignation at the crimes of his enemies.” He smiled and gave a little chuckle and despite herself Leanne struggle not to vomit, she gagged it back and backed away. “As you with Arch Deacon, if you require assistance I shall be waiting.” “Yes, yes you shall my child.” Vamis said in a voice that was rough with phlegm.
The hounds returned to her lair and Seena saw they had not escaped unscathed. Several were missing, presumably they were dead although it mattered little in the greater scheme of things. It was disconcerting though that they had not apparently completed their task as he enhanced hearing could still detect the faint voices of the human scum in the not so distant tunnels. She knew that she had the ability to kill every single one of the bothersome pests but wanted to attend to other matters.
Still it looked like it was unavoidable. Seena swirled a betaloned finger in the blood bowl as she considered her actions.
She had again ignored Benjamin’s squawking communication, he mattered little now that she had begun the final phases of her plan. The war between the xenos and Imperium would release energies of the dead and dying which her bowl would capture, enabling her to open the gates to the warp and provide a highway from the Inevitable City to this plane, this planet.
It would be enveloped in screaming tides of daemons and for her gift Tzeentch would reward her with ascension. As a princess of daemons she would be immortal and would be able to take her revenge on the Eldar who had haunted her family since her grandmother had found the Vessel of Souls. Sister Amiin was tired of waiting, they had been here in this bloody clearing for almost an entire day with no guidance from either the Canoness, the Cardinal or that damned inquisitor. Amiin did not care if he was the Canonesses’ brother, he was an idiot, a beauracrat and a liar, Amiin could feel it in her bones. Whatever they were supposed to be waiting for it sure wasn’t on its way here and by the Emperor there was a war going on, at least there would be if Amiin found out that weasly little rat of an inquisitor had prevented them from protecting the holy cathedral alongside the canoness, she would burn that miscreant to ashes if he had and his bloody inquisitorial authority be damned. “Sisters, we return to the city and to our Canoness; I fear we have been led on a fool’s errand and I for one am not in a mood for idiocy, board the rhinos, we depart immediately.” Amiin commanded, her husky voice edged with anticipation.
Benjamin stood on the flight deck of Dread Perceptor, in front of him were arrayed his finest minions, twenty carapace armoured Inquisitorial troopers, his three servitors including the mutilated Milissa and the feral world tracker Umajin clad in the blood stained leathers of his barbaric people but armed with the finest las-rifle Inquisitorial money could buy. The time for subtlety was ended and today Benjamin’s glorious plan would bear fruit. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Faithful servants of the Imperium, we stand at a crossroads. The Inquisition and its humble servants are the silent guardians of our civilisation, the path we walk if fraught with danger and terrible secrets.
The planet below our feet is under the control of foul xenos and for that we must fight.” The troopers looked ahead, their concentration and discipline magnificent in the face of Benjamin’s superior abilities of leadership or maybe because of them. “We can expect heavy resistance during our mission, from both the xenos which we will suffer not to live, but also from the heretical apostates who have engineered this disaster through their negligence.” Benjamin took a deep breath and attempted to look grieved before he continued. “My very flesh and blood, my sister, the Canoness of the Cathedral and the Adeptus Soritis below is the head of this foul infection, she herself called the xenos to this planet after engineering the diversion that led the noble Ultramarines out of the system. Although I call her sister, although I loved her dearly, she is a traitor to the Imperium and for that.for that she will die.” Benjamin tried to squeeze a tear out but there was not enough empathy to do so, he carried on regardless. “We can expect to fight the xenos and my sister’s fanatics, they may protest their innocence but they have already been judged and found guilty, my loyal servants, we are the executioner’s axe and on this day we strike a mighty blow for the Imperium of Man and the Emperor of Mankind.” The troopers stood bolt upright, the servitors slouched silently, Umagin chewed on a cud of some black tarry leaf and squinted through narrow eyes at the Inquisitor. They were ready to drive home the knife.
Glory awaited. “Board the Valkyrie.” Ordered Benjamin.
Gek’hen and a squad of personally picked kroot warriors had re-entered the catacomb complex. This time they did not travel under the command of the Ethereal nor did the Honoured One even know about the expedition.
This mission was not for the Greater Good, it was revenge, hot and snarling. Four of the twelve warriors held leashes restraining eight kroot hounds which clacked and hissed through their crocodilian like beaks.
The humans would be found and killed, their skins would be flayed for the shame they had brought to the kindred and to Gek’hen in the face of the Tau. Wordlessly the kindred crept through the dark, the dusty, filthy tunnels stretching on like rotten intestines. Gek’hen passed the place where the ambush had occurred. The dead were gone and the dirty floor showed massive movement signs, claws, boots, dragged corpses. The stink of drying blood mixed with the putrid miasma that drifted in the stagnant air. Gek’hen closed his eyes and listened, the kindred stopped and waited in silence.
Something was behind them, this time the kroot would be the hunters and whatever fool fumbled in the dark behind them would be the prey. The insufferable darkness was dispelled by the flood lamps attached to the duo of combat servitors leading the way dumbly. Their multi-melta limbs tracked back and forth as they stumbled forward like the animated corpses they resembled. Benjamin patted the cheek of Milissa as she stumbled forward beside him, the side of her face that remained recognisable closest to him. Her right arm had been replaced by a bionic limb and chainsaw attachment and her left arm flapped useless and limp. Her doll-like features were blank. Benjamin was happy with the results of her surgery, only a day ago she had represented one of the most useless of Imperial institutions and now she served the inquisition in a righteous quest.
If she could have spoken at all Benjamin was sure she would have thanked him for releasing her from the endless monotony of prayers and polishing he was sure she had endured as a novice. The merry little band was certainly not stealthy noted Benjamin. Three servitors, twenty troopers and up ahead somewhere that stinking tracker Umajin, why did the best trackers always smell like they lived with the beasts they hunted? Benjamin chuckled to himself as he thought of how upset the barbarian would be at the noise the band was making, it did not matter to him though as long as he made sure his sister was dead and that traitorous assassin with her. Benjamin realised in a flash of brilliance that they were likely working together!
That would explain everything. The two bitches had been conspiring against him from the beginning in some bewildering unexplainable plot to destabilise the Imperium or worse, a petty vendetta against him for his obvious genius. They would pay for their actions, their thoughts and everything else they had done to belittle him, to drag him down to their crawling stinking level. Gek’hen’s keen eyes saw the skulking human approach through the darkness, flitting from one pile of rubble to the next. The prey was not dressed as a regular fighter but rather a hunter of some sort. Gek’hen silently approved of the hunter’s actions. They had few faults but against the sharpened senses of the shaper they would prove to be of little use. Medal Of Honor Warfighter Pc Black Screen On Startup.
The pack’s kroot hounds shivered with anticipation in the darkness, hoping to be unleashed for the kill but Gek’hen could hear the crashing fools behind the tracker and could not risk alerting them. He untied a long throwing blade from his belt, a favourite that had claimed many scalps, and flicked it spinning through the darkness towards the blind hunter, silent as death’s sigh it took him in the throat, cutting his attempted warning to a choked gurgle.
The human collapsed into a dead heap, a warrior bounded from his cover to drag the hunter away and again the kindred waited in the darkness for the trap was almost sprung. Milissa’s dead throat voice rasped out a warning “Warning, sensors detect life forms in twenty three metres, warning, sensors detect task force member Umajin has expired.” Benjamin and his squad instantly crouched as the kroot realised their misdirection had failed and leapt to the attack. Twenty hell guns blazed into the darkness, illuminating the dashing, springing shapes. The kroot hounds crashed into the combat servitors, ripping off their limbs with snapping jaws, the melta blasts vaporising the flesh of soldiers and kroot as they sought cover from the wildly spraying fire.
Benjamin stumbled backwards and blasted wildly at the melee with his laspistol, the zipping bolts burnt neat holes in the kroot hounds but did little to stop the frenzied beasts from tearing bloody chunks from the panicking troopers. “Protect me!” shrieked Benjamin, sick with panic. “Combat engage.” Milissa’s dead flesh was pumped full of virulent chemicals which ravaged her remaining organs and filled her with noxiously feral power. The combat computer wired into her brain filled with logarithms and calculated lines of fire and movement.
“Combat systems running, engaging enemy.” Her voice droned The former initiate sprang into action, her chainsaw limb looping and her legs pistoning with the strength and agility of the Adeptus Astartes. Kroot slashed at her with their gun blades but she parried them with impossible speed and retorted by carving through limbs and torsos. Milissa’s eyes remained blank as she chopped around her, every blow precise and deadly. Benjamin regained his composure and began to aim his shots, finishing off the last of the kroot hounds as the warriors retreated before Milissa’s monstrous onslaught.
Only seven troopers remained of the twenty brought down and one of the other servitors had been rendered inoperable. The remaining one lashed around still with steel shoots boots, both its arms had been torn away. Benjamin cackled with delight at the carnage being wrought, these maggoty xenos fell like thrown garlands before his creation, what foresight he had shown to transform her from whickering servant to mighty protector of the Imperium. He stumbled forward and looked down at the long barbed blade that poked through his chest, he was about to issue a proper challenge to whatever miscreant had dared strike him, from behind no less, but he found his mouth unable to draw breath to do so.
Benjamin turned slowly, gulping for air incredulously at this admittedly remarkable turn of events, he pointed his laspistol at the snarling, ready to pounce form of the kroot leader and then he sank to his knees and knew no more. “Protocol, protect Inquisitor, engaged.” droned Milissa as her senses registered Benjamin’s life signs deteriorating. “Executing emergency teleportation.” She continued. Ignoring the impact of slugs in her blasted back Milissa advanced toward the crumpled inquisitor, her chain arm extended menacingly towards the Shaper. Gek’hen clacked its jaws at the uncaring servitor and backed away.
Milissa reached down with her left arm and dragged the inquisitor into an embrace, rough and protective. He made no noise so close to expiring was he now. “Teleporting.” The pair disappeared in a flash of light and electric ozone, leaving the remaining troopers to their fates.
Vision returned to Gek’hen as the after image of the teleport faded away. That treacherous human had escaped but may yet expire from his wounds. The rest of the humans had been offered no mercy; it violated the decree of the Ethereal but no matter. Honour was at stake and more important than the need for mercy.
Gek’hen wished he had removed his scalping blade from the human but he had others. Right now they had best continue looking for the priest and his band of followers before they threw yet more bones into the fire pit and ruined the plans of the tau. Uthaniel’s breath was ragged and gasping but he barely noticed. He felt the fury of the Emperor flowing through him, filling him with vitality. He could feel he was drawing closer to the enemy, the source of the hell that had descended on Lepidus III and he knew it was not the Tau. Behind him, Canoness DeSade stalked warily, her bolter swinging left and right as she scanned the darkness ahead.
Following her were the scant remainder of the faithful that had descended into these catacombs, the others would lay here forever, their deaths those of martyrs. Uthaniel’s hands were clammy and throbbing, his fingers burnt like fever and his guts ached with barely restrained eagerness to destroy the enemy. He knew in his soul that this was an enemy worth fighting, an enemy that had been at odds with the holy Imperium since its founding, since the beginning of time.
How was that even possible? It mattered not, nothing mattered except the War. Benjamin stopped.
His thoughts were tumultuous, they were confused and ragged. He heard ragged breathing and his eyes grew wide as he realised that the gasping, wheezing sound was himself. “Archdeacon, do you require assistance?” came the Canoness’ cautious query. Uthaniel studied himself, what was happening to him? His hands, swollen and his palms blistered, the cuts and scrapes of combat oozed thin streams of stinking pus, his gut sagged heavily inside his armour.
He smelt something foul and realised it was his own breath, like rot and death, corpses baking in the fetid swamps of the lowlands. What was happening to him? A chuckle rose in the back of his mind; guttural and foul, ancient and cursed, it filled his mind with sick foreboding. You are mine Uthaniel Vamis.You belong to me now. Thick, full of the same rot on Uthaniel’s breath “No” whispered Vamis out loud. The Canoness took a step back and tightened her grip on her bolter. Next to her, brother Arok narrowed his eyes at the Archdeacon.
Is something amiss?” his gravelly voice whispered. Vamis looked at the pair of them in horror, his mouth agape as he realised what was happening. As he realised he had been doomed. A husky, throaty laugh mockingly echoed in the shadows.
“Oh, my poor misguided prey, look how you meander around in these darkened halls, look how you wander.” The voice sneered Leanne raised her bolter high and scanned the darkness. “By the Emperor, show yourself and be dealt with.” She demanded. The unseen mocker laughed again, quieter this time, more predatory. “Tsk, tsk, dear hand maiden. Do you think that your corpse god can protect you against the power I wield? You need not answer for your words are irrelevant to one who knows all the truths in the universe.” Leanne snarled under her breath, she cast a look at Vamis where he slumped on the ground in the muck.
His breathing thick and burbling. He was not going to be able to fight, she had to get him to safety and find a way to save him.
“What has befallen your brave preacher dear sister?” mocked the voice, closer now but still unseen. “Have his wounds overcome him?
Does he kneel at deaths door and await his punishment for a lifetime of blasphemy against the true gods?” The few remaining refugees with Leanne were huddled back to back, staring anxiously into the whispering shadows. The constant pressure, darkness and horrors had worn though their nerves and only brother Arok seemed to be ready for combat. The mocking laugh echoed one more then died away, replaced by the low growls of the returning hounds. Arok snapped his last flare from his belt and its red light chased away the gloom, bathing them all crimson. Surrounding the final few survivors, Leanne and Vamis, stood the hunched, wounded hounds that had assailed them before. As Leanne’s eyes adjusted to the darkness she thought she saw a figure, lithe and supple, slip further back into the shadows, midnight clad. “Emperor take your hide bitch!” swore Leanne as she clicked off the safety of her bolter and blazed away at the hounds of chaos.
The hounds were taken by surprise, their hidden mistress had given them no orders to attack and two were blown apart before the others had sense to scatter. Brother Arok was the next to fire, his shotgun roared defiantly as its shells staved in the head of a leaping beast.
Its corpse crashed into his legs and sent him tumbling to the ground but he never lost his head as he shot again and again at the circling hounds. The other refugees found their nerve and began firing wildly at the yelping chaos hounds and beast by beast they were brought down by the relentless salvos of bullets. Lit by the flickering blood red flare the hounds crashed into the dirt, ragged holes blasted in their mutated, greasy hides. The last light of the flare faded away and darkness descended upon the gun smoke filled, fetid aired tunnel. A low chuckle drifted out from the murk, it was patronising, hateful, a promise of painful excruciation delivered with malice and evil satisfaction. “Show yourself fiend!” shouted Brother Arok, his thin voice sounding hopelessly childlike. Leanne risked a glance at Vamis who lay in the gore splatted filth of the ground, wracked by sobs and gurgling coughs.
“Cardinal Vamis” She emphasised his position now that his predecessor was gone “your flock needs your strength now, you can overcome this evil.” Vamis remained on the ground, lost in pain and indescribable torment. “Your priest is dying church wench.soon you and the last of your misguided flock will join him and this planet will fall to me” mocked the sibilant voice from the shadowy corners. Barrels tracked the darkness but the group could see nothing at all. A young woman slumped over silently, dead before she hit the ground, a tiny needle protruding from her neck.
Next to her the oldest refugee stood open mouthed as his head was removed from his body, a glimmering razor line disappearing back towards the roof, blood fountained with puffing enthusiasm from the gory stump. And then Arok’s skull, neck and torso parted down the middle, taking only an instant but to Leanne it seemed like an eternity. His innards spilt, his blood sprayed outwards, finally revealing the figure of the assassin in a gore drenched, crimson silhouette. That was messier than I expected” teased the woman as the blood dripped clear and she was invisible again.
Leanne and the two remaining refugees were paralysed with shock. One, an old worker named Gwendolina was impaled on the end of a thin blade, lifted from her feet and then halved by a flick of the owner’s wrist. The last refugee went berserk and pulled the pin on a grenade he had been carrying the whole time. His hand dropped to the floor and the explosive rolled free.
Leanne’s years of training caused her to leap aside without thinking as he was demolished by his own explosion. On the ground Vamis was covered in the guts of the last to die and his sobbing had stopped. Leanne climbed to her feet, waiting for the final mocking blow from the shadows that would end her life. She held her chainsword before her and spun up the rotating teeth, a final act of defiance. She would die fighting. A mocking laugh, seemingly far away, then another next to Leanne’s ear. “Oh dear slave of a corpse god, you cannot hope to fight me.
Fate itself is on my side. I will rule this world in my god’s name and those few who I allow to survive will worship me and my magnificence.” Leanne span and swung the chainsword viciously, it hit nothing but air. “Oh dear slave of a corpse god, I would not even need to know what you blindly strike at to avoid your mindless blows, you are a decrepit remnant of a dead empire and a false religion. Surrender to me and I may allow you to live as my slave.” Furious at the mockery, Leanne swung again in the darkness, then again, her blows wasted, her anger impotent and ineffectual. “I will never stop serving the true Emperor of Mankind you harpy, you spawn of corruption.” Leanne spat, her faith reasserting itself as her rage grew.
Well then.I guess it’s time for you to die.” Leanne felt to needle like blade pierce her from behind, sliding through her armour effortlessly, edging past her shoulder blade, poking out her chest cheekily then withdrawing with a whisper of victory. “You are dead.” hissed the assassin. Inside Uthaniel’s broken, tormented body a voice urged him to stand. Patient, loving and joyous yet insistent.
There was work to be done, the pain was only there to be overcome, the lethargy of death could be ignored. STAND CHILD Vamis felt his body obeying, his grief at his corruption faded, his determination returned. The enemies that had struck at his flock, his children, would die screaming. Vamis stood and turned. In the darkness he saw clearly. Leanne, on her knees behind her a minion of the eternal enemy. A child of the Changer.
A foe of the Emperor, truly this opponent was doubly cursed. Uthaniel hissed a warning. “Your mockery of my world ends here minion.” The assassin turned, shocked out of her gloating. “You still live? You look like you can barely stand preacher.
Be a good dog and accept your fate.” “I feel..perfect.” smiled Vamis, bringing purity to the ready, in the gloom it glowed a dull sickly green. “You cannot strike what you cannot see.
No glorious ending for you priest.” said the woman as she stepped backwards into the darkness. Vamis’ diseased, blind eyes followed her unerringly as she sought to sneak behind him but he did not betray this by moving. He saw her tense and spring toward him from behind his shoulder even though his eyes were blind with cataracts. He watched the deadly blade as it stabbed down towards his filthy gore covered back. He watched her land in a crumpled heap as his casual backhanded blow sent her spinning to the ground. “You are nothing before the might of a man blessed as I am.” smiled the Arch Deacon, a patronising kindness filling him with warmth, a maggot wiggled out of his nose and dropped onto the ground.
On the ground Leanne watched the combat by the sick light of the Arch Deacon’s unholy mace. It was a nightmare; this blessed servant of the Imperium brought low by contagion and returned to unholy vigour by the nameless corruption of dark gods. Seena rolled onto her feet as the empowered human advanced towards her, his weapon held high to crush her on the ground. She aimed her neural shredder at his face.
She fired and snarled in victory as he was hit by the crackling bolt of energy. He rocked back, his brain surely fried but then he simply advanced again, unstoppable as a juggernaut, implacable. Vamis laughed throatily as he launched a lazy looping swing with his mace, eldritch green fires now burning along its head and shaft. It was not meant to strike but to show his simple superiority, a fly swat gesture to announce his disdain for this weak and pathetic opponent. “This world is not yours changeling.” Vamis bellowed, his stinking breath saturating the room and making Leanne gag on its foulness. Seena rolled backwards, well out of reach of the hideous mace and the apparition wielding it and knew she had to flee. This foe was beyond her.
Gracefully she somersaulted backwards, then turned and sprung away, her lithe strong legs carrying her swiftly into the gloom. Her face burned in anger and shame as she was followed by the mocking laughter of an enemy quite beyond her prodigious capabilities to conquer. Warhammer 40,000: Eternal Crusade - Copyright © Games Workshop Limited 2014.
• Tides Of Man LLC • (2009–12) Members Spencer Gill Alan Jaye Josh Gould Daniel Miller Spencer Bradham Past members Adam Sene Tides of Man is an American band formed in formed in 2008. The band currently consists of members Spencer Gill (lead guitar), Josh Gould (drums), Alan Jaye (bass guitar), and Daniel Miller (guitar).
The band's former lead vocalist departed from the group in 2010. Currently an independent band, they signed with and released the studio albums Empire Theory (2009) and Dreamhouse (2010). In 2014, the band released their third studio album, Young and Courageous. Contents • • • • • • • • • History [ ] Formation and Empire Theory (2007–2009) [ ] In December 2007,, Spencer Gill, Adam Sene, Alan Jaye, and Josh Gould convened on a whim when Jaye booked a show in Tampa's, before the band even had any material together. They wrote new songs and played adapted versions of music from a previous band that Gould, Gill and Jaye had played in.
Three of the songs from Empire Theory were written during this 10 days. Tides of Man raised the money and recorded Empire Theory and signed to a few months later.
They had played less than 15 shows, all south of Jacksonville, Florida, prior to the first national tour booked through Jeremy Holgerson of in July 2009. Departure of Pearson and Young and Courageous (2010–present) [ ] On December 20, 2010, the band announced that Pearson had left the band to focus on a new musical project (reportedly to become the lead singer of, however he ended up replacing as the lead singer in ). The band also stated that they were going to audition new singers and continue on as a band. The departure of Pearson forced them to drop off the No Rain, No Rainbow tour with Greeley Estates and the Downtown Battle Mountain II tour with Dance Gavin Dance that took place early 2011. After Pearson's departure, the group wrote instrumental tracks while looking for a new vocalist. It was also announced that Spencer Bradham has joined as keyboardist, although later was clarified he only joined as a studio member due to him not being able to go on tour because of his work as audio engineer.
The band's first instrumental album, Young and Courageous was released on February 4, 2014. Style and songwriting [ ] Songwriting is an integrative process involving every member, with the exception of vocal tracking for Empire Theory, on which Pearson recorded separately from the band, due to being in a different city. Empire Theory is a concept album about war and mercy with the songs being mapped out. On Dreamhouse many of the songs were written by either Gill or Pearson sitting in a room alone, coming up with a song structure and essential riffs. Then the drums and bass were worked individually and the songs were interactively built piece by piece. The recurring theme lyrically in Dreamhouse is about not taking the life you have for granted.