Zee was feeding his breakfast scraps to the Ravens, for Corvids had done well from mans wasteful lives, scavengers of all sorts thrived and business had been booming, though he would take some convincing that was a good thing. There was something in the air that didn’t sit right for him, a memory half repressed, a familiar smell he just could not place…and the harder he thought, the further away it seemed to get.
"You endangering the wildlife with your cooking again Zee ?”
The subtle whir of servo’s alone would identify the culprit of that remark had he not known the voice as well as his own.
“Morning to you to Art, your unnaturally…”
“Awake ! Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”
“You too, must be catching”.
“What do your feathered friends tell you Zee ?”
“I’m not even sure what to ask them Art. You been on the Vox yet today, find any new gigs ? It’s been two weeks and the work was pouring in, now its just dried up on us, what the Sam Hill is going on ?”
“Knout, Nada, nothing gives this fine day”, Art slung his half eaten toast out into the building rain, but the Raven’s were long gone to drier quarters.
“We could canopy-up and take Eileen to the slopes ?”, he half-heartedly suggested.
“That can be a bit risky even with the lid down Art, if they pop flakk we need all the visibility we can get !”
“We do have the decoy cluster launchers, they’re good for 4 or 5 incoming for sure.”
“You tested them Art ? We’d need better than that, especially flying for scoops, man I thought those days were behind us.”
“Then maybe I have the answer, or at least part of it if you will let me show you what’s been keeping me up nights, come to my lab !”
And it dawned on Zee that he had once again fallen for the uncle Art lecture tour, but was forced to admit, Art had surpassed himself this time, over the past few months since completing the up-grades to “Eileen II”, he had been building a UAV, a remotely piloted drone and it was awesome !
He’d used mainly standard components, but the genius lay not just in their choice, but the way he had combined them and rather than attempt to make a failing utilitarian one size fits all UAV, he had made several interchangeable suites to bolt on as mission parameters may dictate. Power came from a single Hawk 11CK jet engine with variable venting to allow full VTOL capability allowing operations without relying on a tug to get airbourne. There was a passive and an active search suite, advanced communications relay to aid tracking, both with a live and close-up stills pict feed. Hell there was even a cogitator module to enable unpredictable defensive manoeuvres’ if attacked from the air or with self guided or remote missiles. Where he had stopped short, was an all out offensive model, his argument being they were available ”off-the-peg” and he was right, most R and D was in offensive UAV’s. Besides, Art argued why would we need one, we were typically covert low profile, not about to single-handedly launch the 2nd Crusade and anyone who wanted a lot more muscle went to the Officio Assassinorum.
So, unperturbed at the thought of getting his new toy wet, Art ensured Dodge was ejected from his bed and dragged out for the inaugural flight of, what after a protracted and occasionally heated debate, in part a testimony to its passive characteristics and with no small amount of irony, became known as “The Dove”. It also helped that Art had sprayed the thing gray and a Dove was the first gray bird they could conjure up !
“It handles like a dream, Art, this will give us a serious edge when it comes down to small targets in big places, the hours it would take in Eileen, not to mention the gallons of gas she gets through.” enthused Zee.
“That was the main idea, the fact that almost every job involves serious arse-numbing hours crammed in Eileen who was, lets face it, not built for comfort, and I would never sleep at all if I thought too long and hard about the number of times we have nearly been blown from the skies !“
“So you figured there had to be a better way, well I’m a living testimonial to right you were on that one, I….“ the Vox cut Dodges gushing admiration for Art’s creation mercifully brief.
“That was McAllen from below the slopes, says he had been having problems with sheep being mutilated, so he went out, as did two of his friends and his son and has not seen nor heard from one of them for almost three days. He contacted the Fort, and they told him they would release missing persons reports on the guy if he didn’t show after a week !” “And so let me guess,“ chipped in Art, “he was less than happy and would us to take a look, no ?”
“Doesn’t sound like Bounty Hunting to me ?” said Dodge. “Sounds like someone needs to go back to the legal’s at the Fort and ask more to be done if he is saying he knows who did it. If he doesn’t, then it is a missing person‘s gig.”
“This is one we could do pro-bono, like for the Community.” explained Art, “People around us are asking for help they’ll not get any other way. Fort wont listen, no money or powerful opinions to consider, so who do they go to ?”explained Zee, “and its not like we are snowed under with work gentlemen !”
First task was to contact McAllen for last sightings, the area his holding covered and where his livestock had been harmed, as much background as possible. Two of the sheep had died, their carcasses disposed of, Zee went to see the third whilst Dodge and Art set up “the Dove” to perform a parallel grid search with the ridge as the fixed point, any sheep or McAllen‘s hand’s that had crossed there were as good as dead.
“So this is the animal ?” asked Zee, having climbed to one of McAllen‘s lambing sheds with him, and although he was no expert, he was only too readily able to recognise the fear in the creature, it was almost palpable.
“What do you think happened “ asked Zee ?
“it’s the same lot that had sheep away from me these last two years, law won’t touch them !” a depressing tale Zee and Art heard far too many times, McAllen was too small a cog for the machine to be compromised, no matter that these animals kept his family alive and now a friend was missing. That he was a single man was the only fortunate note to the tail, for there would not be one more widow left to starve on the “Support” the Imperial Administrators should be providing.
Zee had a closer look at the animal, no easy task as it shied from him in out right panic, but what he could see puzzled him greatly.
“They usually this distressed some, what must be almost eleven days and this ewe seems as scared as if it happened only yesterday ?”
“Trouble is Zee, no-one knows what those bastards do to make their “sport” with these animals, so its hard too tell, but I see what you mean. I’ve seen sheep trapped in the snows for 4 or 5 days, starving and unable to move that were not as panicked as this one. She don’t sleep, hardly eats, so I’m having the surgeon back to see what she says.”
“Let me know will you McAllen, and we will take a look for you.”
“Afraid I can’t pay you that much..”
“Don’t have to, spoke with Art, this ones on us, we don‘t just take Mr. McAllen.”
Dodge and Art’s parallel grid search had been running for 2 day’s and although they could plot every animal on that graze, there was no sign at all of any human interlopers’ and yet the distressed Vox from McAllen confirmed another fatality. With Art running “the Dove”, Zee took Dodger with him to ground zero, and what they saw explained the jittery timbre of the Shepherds’ tone on the Vox. This animal had quite literally been torn to pieces, covering an area of some 12 - 15 foot. It was although the unfortunate animal had been hit by a grenade, but the flesh had most definitely been torn, not blasted. Zee could think of no satisfactory explanation.
“Any ideas Dodger ?” Although he looked as though priority one was hanging onto his lunch, he mumbled “Dreadnought“, then had to walk back to Eileen and sit with his head in his hands for a while. Zee and McAllen walked the scene, looking for something, anything that might give some idea as to who or what did this. As “the Dove” passed over, Zee keyed into it’s advanced communications’ relay putting the entirety of the Scarp Lodge‘s cogitative powers, it’s links and Art at his disposal.
“Impressive”, said Zee, and in a voice that could not have been clearer were he standing next to him, “That even you can use it ?“ came Arts dry humoured response.
“Ha bloody ha, you need some new material my friend. No, this you plank, with this much capacity, we become far more independent, can do follow-ups there and then rather than at the arse end of the day when we get back to Scarp Lodge totally knackered and not thinking fit !”
“Gets my vote ! What service might I perform for you today oh mighty Zee ?”
“Why would Dodge mention “Dreadnought” ?”
“Probably because if the animal has been ripped apart, it was probably not by something man sized, due to the shortness of the limbs, whoever or whatever did that would have had to stand on one part of the Animal and grab another to do so, and whilst the first tear would have been difficult, all the subsequent goes, with all that blood ? You could question if even wearing TacticalDreadnought Armour would let you do that, whereas for the real-deal, a Dreadnought, it would be comparatively easy !”
“Easy to spot too, a Dreadnought out here on a cliff face, on this graze strip, I mean it’s not exactlyDreadnought friendly, and why sheep, with all that power you’d be knocking over Banks and buying Islands and the like ! The thermal imaging on “the Dove” is good for what, half mile each side if its flight path, so we can do the math. How fast would it needed to move to be get inside the grid then back to over a half mile out for a subsequent pass to not to intercept it ? That would have to be one speedy Dreadnought if I’m right , and over this terrain ?”
“Well yeah, yes, that would take a entirely re-engineered Dreadnought, something that far from the STC we’d have heard about surely, any how I’ll do the math, no more guesstimates, though.
A less than happy looking Dodger tapped Zee on the shoulder, still pale he did seem to have regained his speech, this time to form a further puzzler.
“Ogryn ?” a suggestion that had real merit, and whilst more feasible than a Dreadnought they again lacked any physical evidence of such a presence. It hit the same wall, just from a different angle. There were no foot prints, DNA, few signs of anything beyond pure malice. It began to look increasingly like the one option open to them was to back-pedal their technological advances, for a good old fashioned “night in the woods“, so to speak. Zee could just see the look on Art‘s face when he raised the matter.
Putting Dodger through the mill still niggled, but the logic was sound. Firstly he had had a free choice, and better he loose his lunch in a friendly than his life in a real match. It had been a long three days to be no further forward, so they sat to plan that night after a meal, just fish and pasta, the taste for meat having declined of late. They went at it from the top as per, beginning with a base line of “facts” that was somewhat sparse, ruling out more than any inclusive grouping.
Predation - Unlikely as little evidence of any of the carcasses being “consumed”;
Rustlers - Unlikely, where is the angle for profit;
Protection Racket - No demands’ and destroying so many stock animals works against the racketeers:
…………..
…………..
And so the list went on, means to carry out the Act remained a big one, laying close to the heart of the puzzle. Then there was McAllen’s friend, of whom even the desk-jockey’s at the Fort now had listed as “Missing”, hooray for progress ! Of this Jan, there was no sign whatsoever ? Zee had spoken to anyone locally who would speak, revealing little, just the odd superstitions and even these were inconsistent. Then there were the wounded animal, traumatised and with odd injuries, unlike anything Zee had encountered before. It was they finally agreed, going to have to be done the hard way, “a night out “ just as they used to.
That remains of day and much of the following were therefore surrendered to forcing sleep, interspersed with cramming food and thoroughly preparing, checking and re-checking kit. No-one was assuming anything about this one, other than this would not be easy. Fighting what you can see, what you know could be hard, few probably appreciated that more. Fighting what you could not see, what you did not know, how do you prepare for that ? Whatever had done for those mountain sheep, would do for the three of them with relative ease, but they did have eyes and ears in “the Dove” as the like they had never known before. Zee spent a couple of hours over the still’s, Art had used cogitative enhancement to build these into 3D topographical images that could be viewed from 360 degrees, perfect to set themselves up with overlapping fields of fire, the last kill as ground zero for want of a better idea. Art then pre-programmed “the Dove” with three distinct flight plans, covering the area in concentric ring, each distinct enough to be recognisable from the ground, set to change on the hour. He jury-rigged three drop-tanks, to give an extended flight time of 14 hour, low as it was entirely powered, whereas a pilot would ease some of that with glides and thermal‘s, getting an additional 50% maybe. McAllen’s offer of support was graciously declined, they needed it tight and he was an unknown, in a world that all of a sudden contained them in abundance. The one deviation Art suggested, was three anti-personnel mines at the centre, a fail safe position they all appreciated, but an opportunity to draw “first blood” all three were content to try, every break they could get ! The mines were used, but with a 175% Sheep Weight Trip !
Zee hadn’t realised he’d missed the contact with the earth, the land that in the last few weeks he had let become remote, distant. It worried him how easily and eagerly they had allowed themselves to depend upon systems and displays rather than keep faith in and trust their own senses, vowing never to let that happen again ! Here he felt a greater sense of self, a surety and calm he only now sensed had been absent in the wires and VDU’s. Here he felt more comfortable. With the IR glasses, Zee scanned the rising bluffs of the cliffs to his right and left, dipping down the drop that ended in the graze, an ink black scar cut from the sky that ran back into the pale folds of the Limestone. The night was close and quiet, punctuated only by the occasional chatter of bats or the nearby drum of insects, the scuff of a hoof or a low bleating from some distant sheep. Neither sight nor sound of anything out of place all night, save the far away hum of “The Dove‘s” turbo high-up on her frequent passes. The ash grey light of the dawn bought with it no change, save the occasional cloud shadow as the weak sun made the odd brief foray from behind their gathering banks and the mournful day shift of October bird song took up from the dawn chorus. Come 9.30, they called it a day, falling back to the pre-prepared position high up in the same cliffs that had their backs all night, to their tents, stores and fuel cache to prep “The Dove” so they could slide as inconspicuously as possible into a second night outdoors.
“Well that pretty much tied in with the feeds we were getting.” said Art. ”The Dove” saw what we saw, as he whizzed randomly through the stored stills on one of the base monitors. “Always good to have a 1st person confirmation that what we saw was what we got.”
“It can record pissed-off and an aching arse that thing, can it ?” Laughed Dodger, “Because that’s what I got last night !“
“Stop winging Dodge, less you can come up with a better plan, especially as you and Zee get first rest, I’ve still got 4 hours watch to go, which you are welcome to take you know, just have to ask !”
“Think I’ll pass thanks Art, see you in four” at which a clearly uncomfortable Dodge slipped off to his tent.
“Happy days !” exclaimed Zee getting the burner going under some coffee and food always seemed a bright idea after an empty night, “No point having empty bellies too huh Art !”“You deactivate the mines ?“ Art called after Dodge ?
“Yah !“ tumbled back an already sleep fringed reply.
Stretched back in his tent, Zee could hear Art tinkering with “The Dove‘s” systems and would be until she was so high once more he couldn’t reach. Some times he too yearned for that compulsion, that heady sense of driven in which he could lose himself, but he knew it was not for all and indeed to some it was a curse. He still could not shake his sense of unease, that niggling worry that eventually decided his siesta was a sentence and so gave up treating it in any other regard and got up.
“Off for a scout about Art” he called over,
“Cool !“ came the slightly distracted reply, and grabbing a lighter Combat Shotgun from its holster in “Eileen II‘s” passenger compartment, he was off, though not sure whereto. First he skirted the natural amphitheatre wherein lay their ambush zone, ground zero for the fire fight that would topple this miscreant Sheep-Stealer, murderer. Then from the lip of that ridge, he ascended by as direct a route as possible, circumventing the area’s of ‘Pavement’ to obtain the crest, where Zee knelt and withdrew a large package from his pack. From this, he withdrew an object with which he had a long and somewhat uncomfortable relationship, a Misaer Blade !
Originally a gift from his Uncle Pietri his fathers younger Brother, it was a weapon with a considerably salacious past before ever coming into his possession.
According to family records it is believed to have been created sometime toward the start of Old Night around the 25th Millennium from Metallurgical analysis, although different samples had apparently given different dates. The sword was of an old Terran, Eastern European design, with its single cutting edge suggesting a fighting as opposed to duelling weapon. It is not clear when it entered the Family, but some say it returned with an Ancestor from the Great Crusade around the 32nd Millennium.
One thing is certain, it has on more than one occasion been the cause of great Family crisis, one Great-grandfather having being given the Death Penalty for having used it to behead his wife’s lover, another to take his own life by Seppuku, Japanese ritual suicide, having lost most of the Family Wealth and Estates at Cards.
For Zee, it had come with him when he received the obligatory Family Commission, reaching as he did the Rank of Captain in the Imperial Guard’s 99th Elysian Drop Troops Regiment/Detachment D-99. A Veteran of more than 17 Combat Drops, he was Severely Injured whilst fighting against the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Kraken’ leading to his being Honourably Discharged !
It was with this Sword that Zee first took a human life, that of a mortally wounded fellow Trooper, who would have been unable to be evacuated before the position they occupied was overrun by ripper-swarms. So why strangely now felt like the time to get reacquainted, he had no idea, but the return of movements he had thought forgotten, alone on the ridge devoured the next two hours in the blink of an eye.
“You look…….all the better for that walk, have to tell me the route sometime ?” Art smiled as he saw the almost contented look on his Zee’s face.
“Will do my friend, what gives with the Grumpy Bunny ? He still sparko ?”
“Will do my friend, what gives with the Grumpy Bunny ? He still sparko ?”
“Sure is, guess he needed it more than we thought, even slept through breakfast. Plan B still plan B for tonight or you want to shake things up a little ?”
“How so ?” asked Zee.
“I don’t know.” said Art, “Maybe just alternate our positions, move us all round one. Stop familiarity breeding contempt an all that. Sometimes just a new spot livens you up some, those memories of the last quiet night not replacing what you see or hear in this one.“
“Sounds like a plan, all one Clock-wise then, or East for you. Yeah, like the sound of that, we’ve been getting a little lazy of late, have you noticed ?”
“Yeah ! All this, “ Art indicated “The Dove” and all it’s paraphernalia with the sweep of his arm, “Kinda sucks you in to a bubble sometimes, can give a man a false sense of security that’s not in our best interest. I think that’s why I went for passive suite’s, I wanted an and, an also not aninstead of for us down here and even so it still tries to lull you, just something we have to be wary of as we’ve both noticed. Anyway, she’s gassed and ready, so let’s get her up and away, I’ve managed 17 hours with the three reserve Tanks, so she’ll hang there till the……” Art noticed the Sword poking up from Zee’s pack ..”till the morning again. You sure you’re OK, I mean. “
“Look I know from your folks remember, what happened, that boy, the “Nidd’s”, Hive Fleet Kraken. It isn’t going to happen again, not here, not whilst there’s me and Dodge here, come-on, a bit of faith in your Partners in Crime Zee !”
“Its not that Art, not that at all, was just an acquaintance I had to renew is all. And it’s done OK, just have to trust me on this one !”
“I can do that. Come on, lets get her up and working.”
Between them they set “Eileen II” straight, her nose to the wind, and Art began the pre-flights.
“Old Night ?”, As he sat cured in his new position, Zee’s mind was briefly taken to wondering what such times must have been like ? The Age of Strife, the 1st Psyker’s to walk openly amongst man…Enough ! He could day-dream later, now it could get him and his friends killed. He lifted the glasses again and swept the rocks to his left and right.
“noth…., hold .”, he adjusted the zoom, “What was …Sheep !” False alarm, just one of McAllen’s Sheep getting more confident around their scent, that and the feed he
had given them to scatter between the rocks to keep them in by ensuring they had to root aboutfor it. The night was still quiet, “The Dove‘s” turbo , the bats and the bugs, even an Owl once in a while, but very far off. Zee focussed on the graze next, now a powdery grey in the moonlight, with the odd whitish smudge of Sheep here and there, heads down, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings whilst chewing intently at the coarse grass of these rocky ridges. Still, no sign of anything worrying them tonight for sure, making the most of the grazing on a cool October evening.
had given them to scatter between the rocks to keep them in by ensuring they had to root aboutfor it. The night was still quiet, “The Dove‘s” turbo , the bats and the bugs, even an Owl once in a while, but very far off. Zee focussed on the graze next, now a powdery grey in the moonlight, with the odd whitish smudge of Sheep here and there, heads down, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings whilst chewing intently at the coarse grass of these rocky ridges. Still, no sign of anything worrying them tonight for sure, making the most of the grazing on a cool October evening.
“Zee ?”, It was Art, “Your 8.30, movement I can’t get an SP on !”
Zee swung his glasses hard left, focus ring spinning, boulders, shrub, shrub, tree-line,
Zee swung his glasses hard left, focus ring spinning, boulders, shrub, shrub, tree-line,
“Nothing Art, shrubs or tree-line ?”
“Tree-line.”
Zee scans left-right, still no sign of any movement, shadows look like shadows, the moon ducks behind a cloud, making everything darker, right to left, shadows……
“Nothing Art !” He noticed his pulse racing slightly, so breathed deeper, slowing his breaths, letting each one out slowly until his heart began to slow ! Strange, he didn’t normally get this anxious over a job, what was so different about this one that should have his heart racing he’d hunted down mass murderers and worse, why the hell would a Sheep killer have him all keyed up ? And if it had him ?
“Dodge, its Zee. You OK ?”
“Sure Zee, you got something ?”
“No Dodge, just a check-in, make sure alive and kicking is all.”
“Well alls dandy down here, too quiet by far, but nothing gives, what about Art ?”
“I’ll give him a shout next, out.”
“Art, all OK with you and clear from above ?”
“Clear as a bell, nothing moving here except us sheep.”
“Funny, Zee out !”
“Nothing”., and so Zee sat back and waited. Minutes passed, hours and still no trace of anything out of the ordinary appeared and there was nothing registered by “The Dove” either, life simply meandered on, but still Zee felt uneasy. He went to stretch, and suddenly noticed his left leg was wet from the thigh down. He reached down and his leg was oddly warm too, and bringing his hand away found why. It was covered in blood !
Hastily grasping for his pack, Zee grabbed the small halogen lamp off his belt and within seconds had assured himself he wasn’t loosing blood, as far as he could tell wasn’t injured nor as importantly was he about to be. Crouched, his heart in his throat and Mk VIII’s safety off, he next checked Art and Dodge were similarly situated before he cupped the rifle in one hand, sliding out the Misaer Blade, its bloody blade almost black in the moonlight. Gore dripped from the weapon, whilst more trickled from the scabbard, pooling at his feet, soaking his combats as the sword bled ! It wasn’t often Zee was stuck for words, though now his very thoughts were numb, not with fear, but incredulity. It had to be sorcery, for his mind was sure and unexpectedly calm, the coppery taste and earthy smell assuaging any thoughts that it were not real blood.
Sliding the Misaer Blade back finished soaking his leg and he gripped his Mark VIII rifle with both hands he voxed “Relocating, Relocating”, before moving at the crouch to the cover of the next rock crater, to uncompromise himself as best he could for now,
Sliding the Misaer Blade back finished soaking his leg and he gripped his Mark VIII rifle with both hands he voxed “Relocating, Relocating”, before moving at the crouch to the cover of the next rock crater, to uncompromise himself as best he could for now,
”You OK Zee ?” cut in Art.
”I’m fine, needed a better 20”. he replied. What else could he say at this point ?
“Sure ?“ It was Dodge this time.
“Sure I’m sure Dodge, cheers !“
Zee pulled up his glasses and scanned a 360 ° arc around his present position and he saw nothing. This was not right !
“Art, Dodge, scope my 20 !” he called as calmly as he could muster, sitting motionless, waiting. Seconds passed.
“Scoped, you’re clean !” Art was the 1st to reply.
“Cleaner than clean !” Followed Dodger
Zee felt his jaw stiffen, and realised he was getting angry, so put that hastily back in the box with a noisless laugh at himelf, concentrating on scanning the Sheep nearest the,
“Fu$% !”
There, in the moonlight, were 2 or 3 dark grey shapes, some 8 foot tall at least, with an un-natural sheen to what looked like scaly flesh, one reaching out a huge talloned limb, to point towards the nearest group of panicking sheep
Zee chambered a round, called “On -target ! Priority* !” and put his 1st round into the back of the head of the marginally closest to him, seeing it jerk.
*Each to select their Priority Target, often though not exclusively the closest to the shooter.
As Zee looked to place a 2nd shot he saw the second one twitch, its head violently jerked back into the path of his 2nd round as it was spun by Art’s 1st or 2nd shot. Both began to fall as he put a 3rd round into the middle lower back of the first he’d hit just as a mass-reactive shell from Dodgers Absolution Pattern Rifle tore off its left arm at the shoulder ! The second was hit twice more, pulping its head as it fell, only to be blasted back up into the air. Having dropped onto one of the pre-placed mines, its body was flung violently skywards end over end, its colleague blasted full of jagged holes from shrapnel and rock splinters !
All was then again suddenly quiet, apart fro small stones and fragments of rock clattering back to earth. Zee hoisted his glasses to his eyes and scanned the scene, making out one, no two unmoving shapes, waving this too Art, who moments later voxed through “Dove‘s” confirmation. The three in unison, crept up from their scrapes at the crouch, and as Zee and Art moved slowly for wide cover, Dodge began to close.
“Don’t forget there are still two lives mine in there and after one detonation, I’d class them both as “unsafe” even when deactivated so,…. So just keep away from them !”
“Don’t forget there are still two lives mine in there and after one detonation, I’d class them both as “unsafe” even when deactivated so,…. So just keep away from them !”
When they were at 30 yards, Zee stopped and took-up a firing-stance , Art and Dodge continued to move in at the crouch, covered through his scope, Zee watching the prone figures for any signs that this is not what it seemed. At 15 yards, Art was to do the same. Dodge, or whom ever did this leg, left his rifle at his scrape, it was always a shotgun for the last moves, but at 20 yards Dodge slowed, so Art moved up. From halted now Zee, as they naturally approach from down wind, could smell something was not right. Dodge wouldn’t take another step, and as he drew level, Art could see why. Zee started to move forward too as Dodge, face white, lost his lunch, breakfast and everything in-between, before his legs went ! Zee was nearly level as he went and managed to check Dodge‘s fall, lowering him into the recovery position, laid down “Lizzie” and scooped up the 12 Gauge, carrying it on toward the kill, past Art until he stood over the prostrate grey forms.
This close, they were not grey, but a deep blood red, covered in a scaly hide that struggled to contain their abhuman musculature. Around its neck, amongst a Maine of thick dark fur, one had a brass symbol hanging from chain of the same metal, and around their massive shoulders, thick, heavy chains holding huge 2-handed swords a good 2metres in length that coruscated Foul, Dark Energy. Their feet were cloven, and each arm ended in powerful, talon fingered hands that woul have been more at home on a lizard. From the ruin of this ones head it is hard to tell, but its kin has a skeletal face with far too many teeth, some great canines, and a head topped with a set of impossibly large horns, at least three sets of two, the largest of which must have been almost a metre in length. Zee gags. He did not know these abominations, but knew of them, they were servants of the Ruinous Powers, Daemon’s of the Dark Gods.
Daemon’s, little wonder that they’d had nothing from “The Dove” Question was, what were they doing here ? Zee’d heard no talk of Cult’s for a score or more years ! Zee walked over to Art, who was supervising Dodger, who did not look good at all, his face was pale and he was rocking slightly, clearly in shock.
“Dodge, Dodger !”, Zee yelled at the lad, trying to snap him out of it. “Dodger, those things, their no problem, they’re dead see”, he pointed to the forms, “They’re gone, finished, can’t stay here without a form you see !” But Dodger just stared blankly ahead. This was going to take quite some time !
Mk
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