[center]BANNERS HERE --Lazarus-- 11 Might 1200 Worshippers Vestec 25 Might 3 Freepoints All the worshippers [/center] A collection of six members of the Citadel of Dundee sat in tanks, carved by the Empress herself, Lazarus. Each one was being pumped with divine energy, carefully. She had to make sure they could handle it. Their power would suffer if they could not. Lazarus had staked out each canidate personally, albeit keeping herself hidden. From the Craftsmiths, Elspeth, the doctor. From the warriors, Albe the Gryphon-Rider. From the miners, Andrew, the foreman. Further, from the Psykers, the saint Baern. From the lowest natural caste, the peasants, came the humble Douglas. Finally, one to lead them, the one who would be the supreme commander of each of the Council, the Gryphon-Rider who had dabbled in the arts of the Arksynth, Cinead. These were the six of the soon-to-be Council. She was expending all her power into each and every one. A strong empire needed strong leaders, and these leaders had to be nothing short of demigods. This was her final goal, but she didn't have the power herself to see it through. Always a burden. Even with the blood from the craftsgod, she still didn't have enough power to see her plans fully to fruiton. They'd simply be too weak. Too weak! She had to solve this. In her chambers, she slowly kneeled. She whispered to Vestec, she whispered for help. He was always willing to help her, and the cost was oft-managable. She just had to watch out for any tricks. Vestec appeared in a flash of colorful light, bowing before Lazarus. "Lazzy dear! It's been too long. How have you been? Aside from letting Jvan's little run away avatar ruin our dwarves. For shame Lazzy dear, for shame." He looked around, colors flashing faster as he noticed the tanks. "Ooooh, what is this? Some new experiments?" He giggled, floating close to the tanks. "Oh my, Lazzy dear if you pump this much power into them they might pop like balloons. I assume that you properly prepared them? Also, don't send them against anyone like dear Lify. He'll tear them apart in seconds." "They have been properly prepared. I staked out those with divine potential, much like me in my mortal days, and then I spent months at a time on each. Each is at peak condition, and I've accustomed their bodies to the power I put into them. The problem is, the process is not complete. I'm out of strength," she sighed, standing up and inspecting each of the tanks in turn, "they're almost done. They just need one last burst of divine power, then we can take them out. I was hoping you could provide." "Oh? And just what are your plans for these 'divine potentialiers?' And how much power are you looking for? I can't just wildly throw this divine power around you know. Someone would get hurt or killed! Not that it would bother me, but you would find it very off putting to be murdered by a burst of chaos energy." Vestec flipped around, still floating, and looked at Lazarus. She walked over to Cinead's tank, brushing her hand against it. "They will lead the Empire my people are so intent on building. They will lead in my absence. They will be the finest specimens I have ever created. They will have an undomitable will and each will be the strongest across their respective spheres. This is what I'm building," she paused, turning to look at Vestec, giving him a while to ponder on what she said, before continuing, "As much power as you can put into them. Their bodies are prepared, and they can only grow stronger. The more energy you put into them, the finer their bodies will be and the closer to demigods they will be." "So you want to give your people six lesser versions of Lifprasil? So they can do what Lifprasil plans to do, only ideally faster and with less constant gifts from the rest of the Gods. Is that about right Lazzy?" He tilted his head briefly before giggling again. "Sounds like a brilliant idea to me! I'm in." She smiled, as best she could with a beak. "Great. Channel your power through me. I'll distribute it to each of them. Of course, Cinead will get more -- my highest commander should be the best, after all -- but the rest will get some as well. Then, we may take them out. Their memories of before will be patchy, showing up as nightmares and dreams at best. We can fill them in once they're ready to be taken out." with that, she took a position in the center of the tanks, bracing herself. "This is going to hurt Lazzy. I hope you're ready." Vestec placed a hand on Lazarus' head, grasping it tightly. Power flowed from him into her, and from her into the six of the tanks around them. It sparkled and shone different colors, and a variety of sounds swarmed around the room as he helped Lazarus realize her goals. She spasmed as the power went through her, but she did not falter. Lazarus remained standing as she channeled the massive amount of energy into each of the tanks. The bodies of each of the soon-to-be legates filled with power, their eyes glowing. Lazarus screamed out in pain. When the final bit of power was distributed, she collapsed, laying on the ground panting. She sat there for several minutes before getting up, and she got up slowly. "That's it. Their bodies will do the rest," she said, still shaking from the pain of channeling so much foreign energy at once, "now we just need to take them out and wake them up." "That we do Lazzy. That we do. But, I'm afraid, not quite in the way you want." Vestec giggled. In an instant, Vestec had seperated four of the six tanks, their inhabitants still asleep inside, from their holdings and they floated around him, held aloft by Chaos energy. "Trust me Lazzy, this will work out for you in the end, but right now I can't let you have all this power at once. We've got to share it around, you know? Make a little balance amongst the world. Don't worry, these two," he gestured to Albe and Elspeth, still in their tanks and where Lazarus had put them, "will serve you well. The rest will help the rest of the world along, until you can find them. Call on me again!" In a multicolored flash he and the four tanks were gone. She opened her beak to say something, but closed it again. She could not challenge the will of a god, not yet. All she could do was simmer. "Very well," she inched out, balling her fists up. "Take them, then. And get out of my sight," came the goodbye, and while she was clearly angered, she did not express it beyond her words. [center][h1]===[/h1] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDAL5G9Xwn4]Several days later[/url][/center] The entire Citadel had been gathered, the first time the Empress would be seen in public since prehistoric ages. The entire citadel was abuzz with activity, as mighty legions of gryphon riders, each one 5,000 strong and supported by a myriad of infantry, stood at attention in the grand hall at the entrance of the Citadel. The amount of people was truly staggering. It was so many that clouds began to form at the top of the grand hall. When the Empress herself, Lazarus, came out, she did it flanked by two people of superdwarven proportion. Lazarus was dressed in the gold offerings provided to her by her people, forged into [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/86/1c/ae/861cae793b4b3eeb4972b2c3f607e4b8.jpg]a fine set of runic armor.[/url] Albe was dressed in a similar fashion, his armor [url=http://img08.deviantart.net/629b/i/2014/240/2/b/knights_of_the_order_by_johnsonting-d7wzccf.jpg]silver[/url] instead. Finally was Elspeth, [url=http://orig10.deviantart.net/ae9d/f/2007/238/d/1/bat_assassin_by_weremagnus.jpg]dressed much less impressively.[/url] The bat was smaller than the Empress or Albe, but nevertheless she too was larger than the average person. Each soldier slammed the bottom of their spears into the ground to announce the arrival of the Empress and her favored son and daughter. Then they did it again, until they had built up a rhythm of cacophonous noise. Lazarus put one golden gauntlet up. Everything went silent, the sound of spears now stopped echoing throughout the hall audibly. She waited until even the echoes had ended, until only whispers from civilians filled the air. Then, she began. “In the founding of the Era of the Worm, we suffered the greatest of losses. Our blood was spilled and reformed into something alien. Something unfamiliar. And yet, we adapted. We endured. In the end, we came out the winner. Now, we suffer from overpopulation and disease. So, then, what is our destiny but to adapt and endure until we are fated to victory?” She paused, before continuing. “Today we take the next step in our steps towards an ultimate victory. With these words, I, Lazarus, Empress of the Citadel of Dundee, declare the Adamantium Crusade.” She stopped, cheers filling the grand hall. Then, Albe stepped up. “I, Lord-General of Citadel Dundee, declare that for the outposts and troops bloodied and besieged by Rovaick and other manners of creatures, we bring reinforcement. For the men destroyed by the myriad of threats upon Galbar, we offer rebirth. For the enemies of my mother’s empire, we bring death. So heed my words, Galbar belongs to Dwarvenkind,” he announced his voice booming across the grand hall powerfully, overpowering the cheers of the rest of the grand hall. [h3][b]One Week Later[/b][/h3] [i]Outpost Sarna, farthest southern outpost of Inquisition territory[/i] Sollix and Aszea stood on the walls, watching for a returning patrol. The gates were locked shut and the outpost was on high alert. There were no lights on, for the Rovaick did not need it to see underground, everyone wore armor and carried their weapons, and the ballistas were loaded and ready. The dwarves, foul Jvanic monstrosities, had gotten more active, more aggressive. While they were of course, no match for the might of the Inquisition, only fools let themselves underestimate their enemies. The two trolls had been watching in silence for a few hours now. "What do you think the odds are that they'll launch an attack." Aszea rolled her eyes. Sollix asked the same question every day, without fail, halfway through their watch. It was as if he didn't have anything else to do but worry about the dwarves. "Slim to none. They're not like the Vestecan Tribes, backed by demons and bloodthirstiness. They're Jvanic monstrosities, cowering in the dark. They’ll make some noise for a little bit, and after we bloody their noses a few more times they’ll retreat to their mountain fortress again.” “If you say so.” Sollix replied, doubtfully. “Still, this is the most we’ve seen them push on us ever before. It might take more than a nose bloodying.” “You’ll see. We’ll drive the-” Aszea’s words were cut off as a loud crashing started echoing through the cavern. In the far distance, lights from thousands of torches shone. A solitary figure was running unnaturally fast towards them, in battered armor with no weapons. “A templar. Sollix, alert the outpost. I’ll let him in.” Sollix nodded, racing off in an instant as she made her way quickly down and opened the gate just enough to let him. Already there were shouts of alarm and running boots as the outpost prepared itself for battle. The templar stumbled in, another troll, bleeding heavily. He leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, and she slammed the gate shut. “Where’s the commander.” He demanded, unsteadily picking himself up. “In the main hall, writing reports to the Prophet.” The templar started moving immediately, moving with purpose and urgency. “What’s out there?” Aszea called at his retreating back. He didn’t even stop, yelling over his shoulder, “A dwarven army!” Aszea’s hand went to the necklace of Toun she carried, tightly clenching it. “Perfect One protect us.” A few minutes later, a goblin was racing out of the outpost on the fastest spider available,carrying dispatches to warn the Inquisition. Within 30 minutes, the outpost was ready. Ballista crews ready, archers on the walls, ordinaries behind the gates, and the two templar squads (five rovaick each) ready to respond where they were needed most. The army eventually stopped just out of range, the cavern growing eerily silent as the sound of marching men faded away. A single figure, obscured by the darkness, began to walk up to the fort. The figure was large; the size of a troll alone. They stopped about halfway between the army and the fort, pulling a stick of some sort from their pack. Elspeth lit the torch. It illuminated them, their batlike visage flickering softly in the shadows of the flame. With powerful lungs, eerily loud for a lone person, she yelled to the fort, “Surrender now and you will not be harmed! This land is now Dwarven!” The only response from the outpost was a ballista bolt being fired directly at Elspeth. She reacted quickly, flashing her hand out at impossible speeds. Grabbing hold of the bolt midair, she held it even, stopping it just short of her face. Then, a snap. With a single hand, she broke the bolt in half. A roar filled the cavern as the army behind her charged. The gryphon riders took to the air, as the infantry flooded through by ground. The infantry in particular was lead by the strongest warriors, the troll-sized yetis stomping forward, protected by massive cast-bronze kite shields and armored plating covering vital areas. Arrows hissed through the air, arcing down to land behind the charging yetis. Ballistas cracked as they fired, aimed directly at the massive creatures charging the gates, being reloaded and fired again with near flawless speed. The second wave of arrows never came, waiting until the gryphon riders were swooping close before firing at them. Azsea muttered a prayer as she gripped her spear tightly, listening to the sounds of the approaching army outside the gates. They were going to take this outpost, she knew. They all knew. But they were going to make the dwarves pay dearly for it. A figure from the outside of the fort suddenly broke out into a sprint, clearing the walls in a single jump. It was Elspeth, and she whirled and diced; the archers on the walls didn’t stand a chance, nor did the few ballistae crews she came across. When the gryphons finally neared the wall, there were few arrows to be loosed at them. Very few fell short of the wall, and the gryphons slammed, full force, into the outpost. The walls fell in an instant, drowned under the combined fury of this dwarven commander and their gryphons. But the ordinaries merely formed a defensive dome of spears and shields, stabbing at any dwarven monster that came too close. The tounic runes on their spears were put to good use, cleaving through the Jvanic flesh as if it wasn’t there, leaving behind wounds that burned as if poisoned and refused to heal. The first templar squad was destroyed, torn apart in an instant by Elspeth’s whirling blades. The second one instead focused on the gryphon riders. They leapt through the air, cleaving gryphons in half with their blades, or yanking riders off to fall to their deaths. They seemed to flow around the blades and claws of the riders, moving with unnatural speed and hitting with unnatural strength. When the gates fell, opened from inside by the gryphon riders, they moved in front of the dome of shields and spears, dodging the strikes from the yetis and cutting them down with flicks of their blades. Azsea, when she wasn’t stabbing at yet another gryphon clawing at her shield, watched in awe. They were magnificent, Toun’s perfection made real in combat. Then of course, Elspeth arrived. She was at best a blur, faster than she had any living right to be. Azsea got a front row seat to yet another power of Elspeth’s, as she stuck out her hand. A massive rune seemed to carve itself into the rock, before spewing forth liquid magma, immolating the rest of the remaining templar squad in a blaze of heat. With almost all of the templars gone, the infantry advanced on the defenders, shields blocking the incoming spear points. Eventually the defenders were overran, left down to a few survivors, holding their spears and swords tightly, waiting for death. Elspeth put her blade to Azsea’s neck, and in a powerful voice, told her, “Put down the weapon, or you this will be your last.” “The Prophet will come. And he will kill you. Then he’ll purge the rest of your kind that infest Galbar. The chaos worshippers and those that obey the Cancer that grows. You will all be wiped from Galbar, to make it perfect, as in Lord Toun’s vision.” Azsea hissed, clinging tightly to her spear. “I will await the day this prophet comes, then. The Empress under the mountain will surely prove to be their better,” responded Elspeth, pressing her runic blade into Azsea’s neck. It sliced clean through, and Elspeth then withdrew her blade. She turned to the rest, saying, “In the Empress’ name, let none survive!” The survivors were finished off quickly. [hider=Summary] IN WHICH RTRON REVEALS JUST HOW MUCH I RIP OFF 40K GEEZ THANKS RTRON NOT BITTER I’M ORIGINAL I PROOOOMISE -Lazzy wants to make [s]primarch ripoffs[/s] things that are the equivalent of demi-gods to lead her dwarven people. But she doesn’t have enough power. (-11 might from Lazarus) -Lazarus contacts Vestec and asks for help. -Vestec, in his usual way, agrees and then steals 5 of the [s]7[/s] 6 (YOU SCREWED UP RTRON) [s]primarchs[/s] Legates and scatters them across Galbar. [s]You think we can’t get any closer to 40k? Just you wait[/s](-11 might from Vestec) -Empress Lazarus takes her remaining two legates and prepares the dwarves for a war of conquest to both find the others and establish Dwarven domination. Elspeth and Albe say their own little bits [s]40k speeches 40k speeches everywhere![/s] -Fast forward a week. Two Inquisition trolls are idly talking about how the dwarves have gotten more aggressive when, surprise, a dwarven army appears on the far end of the massive cavern that their outpost sits on. The outpost prepares for battle, and sends one man back to warn the rest of the inquisition. -Elspeth, leading this army, demands the outpost surrender. The outpost replies by firing a ballista bolt at her. She catches it mid air and snaps it in half. The army attacks and because the outpost really doesn’t have a counter to Elspeth, it’s quickly subdued and everyone inside killed. New might totals [u]Lazarus[/u] 0 might 1200 worshippers [u]Vestec[/u] 14 might 3 freepoints All the worshippers. 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