You surely put pride in the organization you serve!" "But you are beaten back, sent running like a wounded dog to your little fort. "You fought well, Inquisitor, and so have your forces," Drakan spoke, his voice strong enough to echo in the air. Behind him, a banner bearing an Imperial Aquila fluttered in the shifting winds. Clad in Ignatus-pattern power armor, he struck an imposing figure as an agent of the warp-damned Inquisition. He eyed them all before settling his eyes on one man in particular. Halting before the gates, the Iron Warrior craned his head towards the gatehouse, where numerous figures dotted the parapets. From below the walls, he could taste their dread, their hatred, and their despair. Oh, they were numerous, making up a significant portion of his forces when he came to this world, but they were only ever useful as looters and cannon fodder.Īll of this served its purpose in demoralizing the loyalists. Lost in the ecstasies of Slaanesh, they were as capable in battle as a crippled gretchin. The last and most numerous group were the Pleasure Pits, which were formed quickly as soon as he had given his orders.
Drakan had to admit that the nurglites and their "feeding" unnerved him, as they spoon-fed the loyalists with pox and pestilence, even using cloth to wipe out the bits that fell from their mouths. And by "inviting" them, they meant strapping the captured loyalists to neat rows of chairs and feeding them Nurgle's gifts, like how a mother might feed a stubborn child. Others had set about turning a portion of the battlefield into a garden of Nurgle, and "invited" captured loyalists to take part in the gifts of the Plaguefather. He found it somewhat comical as the two desperately tore chunks out of each other, but he could not stay and watch, for he had more important duties to attend to. He had passed by one of their hastily-constructed arenas and saw two loyalists fighting it out with spades. Some had constructed a makeshift ring and forced captured loyalists to fight themselves to the death. This they did with unrelenting zeal and passion. He had ordered his forces to celebrate, to indulge in the ecstasies of their respective gods, before the walls and the eyes of the loyalist forces. Shrieks of pain, cries for mercy, and lust-filled moans echoed in the ash-filled air as he strode across the battlefield, his council in tow. At this, he ordered the attack to be halted and sent out new orders, much to the delight of his forces. If he were to direct another salvo at the gate, it would be broken, and the last barrier that shielded the loyalists would be swept aside. Herkules, his champion, sent the loyalist dogs running to the safety of their walls, tails tucked between their legs.įrom the reports that had been filtering in, the hive's gate was on the brink of collapse. When his Iron Warriors entered the fray, the loyalists finally buckled against the mounting pressure. But faith and steel were not enough to stop him. With faith and steel, they stood strong against his charging horde. The loyalists had put up a good fight in defending their trenches, inflicting significant casualties on his warband. Their centralized leadership allows them to easily coordinate their forces unlike a Black Crusade that Splinters into Smaller Chaos Warbands once it reachs critical mass and successfully repulses Imperial Response. Only the strong and Cunningly Strong survive in Hell. While power plays exist it's more along the lines of what you wpuld expect from Khornates. Hell on the other hand is united There is only one Dark Lord of the Burning Pits beneath him are his six Arch Demons Loyal and true. Skarbrand and Kairos Fateweaver argued then fought each other for the honor of corrupting or presenting Guilliman to their respective gods. Like during the terran crusade where after capturing Roboute guilliman. All in all while they have numbers and experienced servants they end up being fucked over. Hell they still infight via the great game of the gods. They rarely work in consort requiring Massive shifts to their plots and schemes for them to even work together but even then they still engage in shows of power and guile to either weaken their fellow gods or gain an edge over them one mirrored by their mortal followers. The Warp's Denizens are.well they live up to the name of chaos.
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