[b]Vael![/b]

The thunderhawk... simply doesn't land. In your vision it stays up there indefinitely, engines dark. Hours, weeks - some secret of the Forgeworld keeps it aloft like the Sword of Damocles. And -

[i]because of that it [b]is [/b]the sword. Glyphic in the sky, it accumulates meaning, accumulates the force of immanent doom, drawing all of the loss of violence of this world to itself -[/i]

Warfare here will be as much about glyphs and symbols as force of arms. The Warp is ever-present and it speaks in a language of symbols, and the Mechanicus of Draupnir have blindly accumulated several powerful ones to themselves. Without comprehension, they have wrapped themselves in the Wards of the Hunter. Small bands moving stealthily through a terrible wilderness, baskets overflowing with treasures, long spears in hands, no fear of great beasts. Their weapons are endurance, concealment, patience and precision; violence unheralded and absolute. Their field is where the open plain meets the concrete jungle; watch always for snipers. Should an army or injustice approach, their flaming sword will fall from the sky like an apocalypse. It is a fearsome combination.

You need a countermatching symbol to ward yourselves in; an aspect to your approach vulnerable neither to hunters nor the judgement of the lord. This, as much as any tactical array, will ward you from danger.

[b]Leruc![/b]

The handmaidens have not merged together or suffered any rent to their bodies - if anything they have become individually more beautiful and perfect - but they are layered on top of each other like an optical illusion. They are illuminated from within by a pale light and are increasingly the only light source in the room. All the others are guttering, damp, encrusted with mildew and moss blooms.

[i]"And I am/and I am/and I am/and I am/and I am..."[/i] it rolls the response around its mouths playfully. [i]"And I am there. And I am here. And I am enough. And I am welcoming. And I am the End and the Death and the Crippling and the Tearing and the Entombing and the Galaxy Within The World. I am two steps removed and the center of everything. I am the Ancient Raven, and it was I who ripped the Allfather's eye from its broken socket and ate it whole. It was a lovely moment. We should do it all again. Who would you like to be?"[/i]

[b]Hagar![/b]

"Lord," said the Master of Ordinance, making a half-bow. "As the Bridge has commanded, we are readying the landing shuttles. One is to carry the command staff and their assistants, one is to carry the Lady Navigator and her combat walker, one is to carry security assets - what do you bid we load the remaining shuttle with? We have capacity for soldiers, vehicles, supplies, ritual components..."

No more than four, that goes unspoken. The Ordinator is familiar enough with the aspects of the Warp to know that an inauspicious number in a place like this represents wasted resources rather than tactical advantage.