Iphigenia part 3
Sister of Battle Mission VS Tzaangors Defenders
30+50(Death to the Mutant)+61 VS 20+20 (Innumerable Horde)+71: 141 VS 111
Even with the bullets crashing in their blue skin, even with the holy flames engulfing them, even with some of their numbers cooked to death by melta bursts, they keep coming. You avoid the blow of a club directed at your face and club the offending mutant with your pistol. An arcing blow of your sword and its head fall to the ground with two of its brethren. Around you, your Celestians perform their own grisly work, flickering maces and swords crushing and cutting, their armors soon plastered in gore. Farther more and more of the units are forced to holster their bolters and draw chainswords, the roaring of the motors drowning the shrieks of the Tzaangors. Your charge towards the demonic city was met by a horde of what you think were the inhabitants of the place before mutating. They managed to blunt your advance and now you have to cut your way through. You are happy with that. Even if you are not the Bloody Rose, you are still Sisters of Battle and your zeal increases with every misshapen body you crush with your boots.
"Sisters! Death to the Mutant, the Alien and the Heretic!"
Your cry is shared by all around you until it grows with a deafening volume. Gouts of sacred flame comes from an unit of Dominions as all their flamers are directed against the crashing horde. They don't fear death nor fire but the agony of the promethium is something else. When they hear the screams of pain of their comrades, they begin to falter, to slow down but a little. It's enough for you. Sisters begin to fall under the sheer numbers but you think you can manage with the help of the Emperor. You turn to your squad and begin the Prayer of the Crusader. Like one, your bodyguards follow suit. Nothing will stand in your way.
Act of Faith: Hand of the Emperor: 13/65: 5 Degrees of Success
"SISTERS! PURE IN YOUR HATRED AND RIGHTEOUS BE YOUR WRATH!" The prayer on your lips you hack and slash at the mutants, not stopping for anything. You don't even care if you kill them in one blow. They are not the foe, they are the obstacle, and you crush them as you advance. Others units with chainswords follow suit, faith enhancing the strength of the power armor to an incredible degree. They follow the bloody path you trail and soon, the mutant horde dwindle away to nothing. Now is the time for those damnable gates to be opened. You signal the Purgation Squad to begin its work and your sisters answer, running to the massive demonic structure adorned in screaming faces.
Purgation Squad Opening: 33/70: 3 Degrees of Success
Twelve meltaguns are drawn, and twelve heatwaves strike the gate. It actually screams even as it melts, returning to the primal chaos from whence it was drawn. From the wreckage comes another wave of mutants, soon cut down by the heavy bolters of the Retributors. Yet on daemonic discs soon fly sorcerers and shamans who bray in their vile tongue while pointing they gnarled staves at you. You laugh at their blandishement even as they try to summon sorcerous lightning and mutagenic clouds.
Sisters Psychic Resistance: 60/20: 4 Degrees of Success
Your armor of contempt protects you against all spells and incantations and you bring down the abominations with focused fire. Advancing in the city you notice it's not actually one. Like so many things of the Warp it's a lie of twisting streets, of plazas with nothing on it, nonsensical viewpoints and the like. You will burn it to the ground with joy.
Sisters of Battle Advance: 35+50 (Death to the Daemon): 47/85: 2 Degrees of Success
Sister of Battle Fire: 35+50 (Death to the Daemon): 76/85: 1 Degree of Success
You advance with speed through the streets of crystal slaughtering what mortal population remains still, they oppose no resistance and you arrive at the fourth of the nine circles with disgusting ease. Beyond this point the daemons begin to strike. Horrors most of them, repulsing protoplasmic flesh who regenerates when cuts. You advance most readily to firing positions. Alas the daemonic flesh shrug even the holy bolter ammunition. Some explode in strange flames under the fire though. They flow towards your position in an almost liquid tide of colored flesh.
Sister of Battles VS Demonic Horrors
30+40 (Death to the Daemon)+71 VS 30+20+20 (Twisted Bodies): 141 VS 70
Fortunately, the servants of the Great Deceiver may shrug the bullets of His favored but they are not immune to blade nor sword as you cut your way through daemons. Their chittering laugh is changed to tormented screams as they discover their horrid bodies refuse to change as they are bid. In the name of the mighty God-Emperor of Mankind do you advance, striking daemons as you smote mutants. Nothing will turn you aside and you vox to the Angelic Host to come down and assist you in cleaning this den of filth and mutation.
Angelic Host: 40+40 (Ephemeral Angel): 99 Critical Failure
Act of Faith: Blessed are those who stand against the wicked: 40+40 (Ephemeral Angel): 28: 6 Degrees of Success
Alas as they drop from the heavens they meet the foe head-on. From the tower spring whole flights of daemons while enspelled lighting and sorcerous fire engulf the angel in righteous flame. Yet the Seraphim emerge unscathed through the flames, their guns soon spitting death as they establish their perimeter. The only question is: What is the Inquisitrix and the Scions doing. You see their Valkyries descend, directed by the Ephemeral Angel where to land safely. Now the battle has become serious as a hundred Stormtroopers join their fire to yours, the laser scarring the ephemeral flesh, searing it nearly to ash. You press your own sisters. You will not fail this day.
***
Ephemeral Angel Miracle: JUSTICE!: 80: 4 Critical Success
Lord of Change Arrival: 100: Critical Success
Inquisitor Asteria: 50+10 (Grimoire of True Names): 16/60: 4 Degrees of Success
Ephemeral Angel VS Lord of Change: 70+30+85 (Death to the Daemon) VS 100-10 (Grimoire of True Names-Half-Manifested): 185 VS 104
And so the Feathered Fiend whose name shall neither be utter nor written came to Iphigenia. Its clawed hand raised a city where none had stood to house the multitudes of its thralls. Nine circles of treachery were the lair of foul daemons and vile mutants, heretics even if they had never known the true path of humanity. Sister Aasmi Angel of the Emperor saw this and was filled with righteous wrath. On wings of fire did she descend to the center of the vile city accompanied by flights of Seraphim and a lady of the Order of the Hammer.
Deep did Aasmi strike and she called on the Dominus Noctis the Lord of Justice. She slashed and burnt the daemon, bringing peace to the Lost and penance to the Damned. She whirled around, slaughtering them in their legions and all were sent back to the Warp to bear witness to the Emperor's glorious wrath. Swift was Sister Aasmi but the Lord of Change came to her, breaking its own tower asunder as it did. Shards of stone like monstrous butterflies struck at the Imperials, and many died among the servants of the Inquisitions and even the Sisters were not spared. Great and horrid was this lord among daemonkind. Great wings with opened eyes in the center of each feather, gnarled staff moaning with the torments of a thousand souls, eyes whose dying light drove men and women to madness and torment eternal. Its stench was so powerful, replete with the smell of the betrayed last cries the squad of Sister Parvati hesitated. Not for long, for three heartbeats perhaps but enough to make them all take the path of the Sister Repentia to atone from that grievous sin.
Remember an instant of hesitation can damn a soul forever.
Lady Asteria came with artifact of potent wisdom and as Aasmi came to the daemon, they joined their voices. They called it monster and intruder, betrayer of many. Aasmi named it as the Doom of Firenze, poisoner manifold as conflicting visions ravaged this city. The daemon laughed even if its substance shimmered to be so bound. Nine times he spat fire and acid rain and wind that struck like knives. Nine times Aasmi darted under the blow, parrying even flame itself. And each time she darted she struck at the daemon and dealt it a great blow. Nine times she struck, and nine times the Lord of Change screamed a scream so loud its city came tumbling down. As last Aasmi struck down the beast, piercing its avian skull with its holy sword.
And then she died of the many wounds dealt to her. Her soul ascended to the Emperor's side to war with him in battle eternal.
Iphigenia purged of Daemons
40 Battle Sisters Killed
10 Seraphim Killed
20 Battle Sisters take the Repentia Vow
Sister Superior Drapaudi elevated to Palatine-Retributor
Gained: One Major Favor from the Ordo Malleus
Gained: One Minor Favor from Shas'O Brabaranth
Tau Empire now understands Chaos Cultists. They will take time to purge their worlds from them and it hampers their war effort a little.