[i][u]The Unsung hero.[/u][/i]
Deep within the ship, a sphere of violet energy bubbles up, releasing within it a warrior.
[i]For thousands of years, he had wandered through this dark, grim Galaxy...[/i]
The shaded figure stood up on it's two large legs.
[i]And those thousands of years, he spent battling whatever the galaxy could throw at him. For every fight, a memento. For every army vanquished, a souvenir. For every enemy slain, redemption. Whatever the grim galaxy could push on him, he pushed back.[/i]
Slowly, he opened his four violet eyes, one of them being marked by a deep, searing scar. They scanned the darkness.
[i]He lived a life, once. Somewhere else, beyond this realm, this universe, this time. He was brought here against his will. But he wouldn't let that defeat him. If something had brought him here to destroy him... they had failed. It had only hardened him. Made him stronger.[/i]
The metal floor thundered as he stood up on his two heavy legs. Although milennia had passed, the man hadn't aged a day. He was stronger than ever, his muscles strong and lean.
[i]Eldar. Tyranid. Orks. Necron. Tau. Imperial. Chaos. He had fought it all. Sometimes alongside them. Sometimes against them. Never had he been thanked for his sacrifices. Some knew of him, of his legend. They had a nickname for him.[/i]
As he walked, he looked at his four arms. Two of them, made from Necron metal after having lost them in a battle. His arsenal varied, containing trophies taken from his enemies. From space marine armour, he had made himself new protection. From the Tau, he had taken ranged weapons. From the Imperial Guard, he had taken heavy weapons. From the sisters of battle, Inferno weaponry. From the Eldar, Mighty witchblades, and their strange eldritch magic. From chaos, psychic powers had been gained. From the Tyranids, the pincer of a Carnifex was shaped into a sword. And that, only to name a few.
[i]His body carried the scars of his long life of battle. But a life that never ended for him.[/i]
On his back, he wore a long, torn purple cloak, with a hood. It was once the banner of something. The only thing he had maintained from his other life.
[i]His nickname was given to him by his ability to wield any weapon for any situation, regardless of the matter. He always had something for everything always an ace up his sleeve.[/i]
They called him the Jack of All Trades. Traliks, the Fallen.
His eyes quickly settled to the darkness.
[i]"Hmm... a ship... ancient."[/i]
His English was without a flaw. Many years of practice will do that. He sniffed the air around him.
[i]"Hmph. Chaos. And by the size... this is definitely the bloodwrath. I don't know what Satirus wants with me, but he will only have dead lackeys to pay for it."[/i]
He grabbed his weapons.
In one hand, the lower left, he carried a Daemonhammer, weapon of the Inquisition. Thanks to his superior strength, he needed but one arm to wield such a weapon. In the lower right hand, his automatic heavy shotgun. How this ork weapon even functionned or held together, Traliks had no idea. But he had come to learn not to question Gork and Mork's mysterious ways. After all, it was thanks to it that he could carry all of his equipment.
In his upper right hand, a mighty Singing spear, an eldar double-headed lance and battleaxe, with its two split heads on each end.
And in his upper left, a Tau Ion Cyclic Raker. Devastating weapon against any foe.
Wandering the depths of the ship, Traliks, standing around the height of a primarch, his hooded cloak trailing behind him, expected anything to come at him.
[spoiler]openito my friends.[/spoiler]
English
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[i]"Why? Afraid of a little danger?"[/i] He smirks.
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[i]"Listen bud, half the population on board hates me for being born, the other half hate for not being a sacrificial play thing... Yes, I'm slightly perturbed... Not scared, but perturbed... Enough not to go getting myself killed."[/i] [b]She says, rolling her eyes. Wasn't easy being... What she was.[/b]
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[i]"well, I don't care what you are. Not in my interests or intentions to kill you."[/i]
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[i]"Fair enough. Well, I better get going anyways... I have places to lounge about in."[/i]
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[i]"I see. Before you go, what's your name?"[/i]
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[i]"Geez... No one buys are a girl a drink first anymore... I'm Lea. You?"[/i]
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[i]"Traliks. I would buy you a drink, but I doubt this place has a bar."[/i]
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[i]"Oh well..."[/i] [b]She throws back her hair with a huff and adjusts her 'leg armor', marching off without a goodbye.[/b]
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He had met many women in his life. This one was nothing special. In her attitude, especially. He chuckles, shaking his head, walking the other way. [i]"Women..."[/i]
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[spoiler]End[/spoiler]
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A space marines stomps could be heard, but from what it truly was.. A Grey Knight, Their Armor kept pure with no coloring besides the silver metal coating over the ceramic. His right hand wielded a Power Halberd, certainly strong enough to kill something. His left had the trademark Storm Bolter gauntlet, belt fed from somewhere... The Grey Knight noticed the Fallen and kept walking forward, though his steps would be overshadowed by the Fallens. The Knight noted the random equipment..possibly a scavenger the Knight thought.
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[i]"Hmph. Wherever there is chaos, expect a grey knight close by..."[/i] Traliks spoke, and with perfect english. He kept his weapons handy, his tattered cloak furling down to his feet.
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The Knight surprisingly responded. "[b]How do thou know of the Grey Knights?[/b]" He said, his Vox amplifying his voice. "[b]One must have been informed of us for a reason.[/b]"
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[i]"I have fought with Grey Knights before. As I have fought against them too. The Inquisition is little secret to those that live long enough."[/i] He needed no vox amplification. His voice was loud enough as it is.
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"[b]Depends on which Sect thou speaketh of.[/b]" He replied, everyone knew he was talking about those Hereticus Inquisitors and their 'seeeecccrreeeeetttssss' "[b]I shall greet thou. I am Paladin Gerald of the 4th Brotherhood. May I ask thou for a greeting as well?[/b]" [spoiler]I'm basically dabbling into the High and Low Gothic languages of Warhammer.[/spoiler]
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[i]"I am Traliks. The Jack of All trades."[/i] That was a nickname even Gerald recognized. Jack of all trades. The legendary unsung soldier of the battlefield. Sometimes a blessing. Sometimes... well, those times, his tales weren't told. Because dead men tell no tales. [i]"Kell of the Rain."[/i]
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"[b]I have heard of thou. But I merely thought it was a morale boosting tale, not a reality.[/b]" He said, He eyed the kell up and down. "[b]May I ask how thou managed to get a Daemonhammer?[/b]" Gerald asked, curiously.
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[i]"I ripped it out of the hands of an Inquisitor. He wanted to rearrange my portrait with it. I rearranged his portrait instead."[/i] He spun the hammer around a bit, with impressive Agility, considering the weight of the weapon and that he was wielding it in one hand.
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"[b]A Ordo Malleus member assaulted thou over Xenos? That was not his territory.[/b]" [spoiler]NOW WHERE HAVE WE HEARD OF THAT BEFORE HMMM?[/spoiler] Gerald was surprised, usually Malleus kept their cool over things like that but still. "[b]Such a strange tale..[/b]" He remarked
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[i]"I would assume you of all people should know how hard an Inquisitor will try to win an argument."[/i] He chuckles. [i]"I was right. He wasn't. Kept his hammer as a memento. Plus, it helps against Demons."[/i]
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"[b]To be fair..I do serve a Ordo that mostly kills and never asks questions. But perhaps there is a first for everything.[/b]" He said, giving out a laugh that sounded very forced. It was obvious he wasn't good at humor. "[b]I merely carry three things, My power halberd, My Storm Bolter and my Faith in the Emperor.[/b]"
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[i]"ah. Yes. The faith in the Emperor. It's how I got this."[/i] He reached into his back, pulling out an Inferno pistol, a very rare weapon used by the witch hunters and Canonesses of the Sisters of Battle.
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He looked at it. "[b]The Adeptus Sororitias.[/b]" were the only words that came out of his lips. "[b]While I commend one who gaining their..respect, I must get going. My Inquisitor most likely awaits me.[/b]" Poor Gerald didn't know any better. Can't blame him honestly.
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[i]"Oh? And where is he?"[/i]
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"[b]General Quarters. To explain it is a large chamber that is guarded well. It lacks nearly any Vegetation besides one side. That is the best I can explain.[/b]" He said, turning around.