[i]"Why in The Emperor's Name would a Grey Knight be in Deathwatch?..."[/i] ~ Imperial Guard, noting this before a battle against Ork forces along side Domicious. Domicious awoke, jolting up with a gasp. His muddled green eyes darted from left to right, observing his surroundings. Shadows danced behind him, their casters in front of him, their backs turned. Domicious's helmet was off, his white hair fell down to his shoulders and his beard was unkept. The commotion coming from the Astartes made two of the five figures turn. They were all huddled around a large metal can, with a fire lit inside. They held out their hands as if waiting for a gift from the flame. And they got their gift. Warmth. It was cold, cold enough to make a non-Astartes want warmth intensely. Domicious got up with a grunt, causing the others to turn towards him. He stood to his full height, dwarfing the five men before him. Each of them looked very tired, with either shaven heads or a wild mop of hair, tangled like a rat's nest. "You ok there, Grey Knight?" The middle one spoke up, concern and curiosity equally peppered on his words. "I do not know. Where am I?" "Wish I knew, sir. We all woke up with no memory of how we got here. You were an unlucky one, a few junkies were picking at your body." "You have my gratitude. Please, call me Domicious." "A mighty name for a mighty warrior. Say, you're one of them Deathwatch fellas, right?" "Indeed, I was seconded into the Ordos Xenos." Domicious nodded, knowing exactly the coming question. "Why did you get into Deathwatch? Isn't it your Chapter's deal hunting Daemons?" "Indeed, the Grey Knights are tasked with the hunting of Daemonic threats. But, after you've slain enough, it begins to get monotonous. They say the same things, have the same strategies. I've already beaten them before a single shot was fired. So, my luck turned around, and my valor got me into Deathwatch. Fortunately, there is a lot more variety when I comes to Aliens. Orks, Tyranids, Necrons... Each battle challenged me more than my previous Chapter ever could. I enjoy a challenge." He looked to his helmet. "But I am afraid I must depart. I am sorry I did not get to share more, but I have a terrible felling about this place. "'Course. We understand." Domicious nodded. "Thank you." He grabbed his helmet and fitted it onto his head. A sound not unlike a gate closing was heard, as ancient symbols and writing glowed a heavenly yellow, and revealed the true prestige of his armor. He wore a full Aegis set, painted Watchmen Black, along with a Crusader Helm with glowing red lenses. His armor seemed to take components from a Mark VIII Set. His left arm was silver and gold, bearing the mark and design of a Champion of Deathwatch. His right arm held his Chapter's Mark with pride, and so did Domicious. Domicious then set off onto his trek into the Bloodwrath, his mind protected from the Warp and what horrors lay within, but his body as vulnerable as it ever was... [spoiler]Open to Indy and Wehb. The order of replies will be Indy, Wehb, then me. [/spoiler] ________________________________________________ A foul stench met the noses of all patrons in the underground bar. It was unbearable. Their eyes watered and their throats became scratchy. Suddenly, a burst of muffled and deep laughter emerged from behind the entrance door. The body of a man was thrown through, the door splintering as if it was feeble glass. The horrid sensation and stench intensified, as the patrons soon began collapsing into a coughing fit. The laughter was heard once more, as in stepped a hulking figure. A Plague Marine, his armor Green-Grey and corrupted by Nurgle's embrace. He held a gnarled Power Sword in one hand, glowing with a malefic green, and a Diseased Bolter in his other hand, flies swarming around it. The people who could comprehend what was happening through coughing affliction were filled with fear, as they tried to crawl away. The Plague Marine's helmet, reminiscent of a gas mask, bobbed up and down as he laughed. "This is gonna be fun..." His voice was deep and ragged, like sandpaper grinding on sandpaper. He unclipped a Blight Grenade from his waist and threw it over the counter, the explosion killing the bartender and destroying all of the drinks behind him. He the began to go to town, firing his Bolter at non-lethal spots, making their deaths as painful as possible. He grabbed one man by the head, his jagged fingers making the man's flesh rot and his hair fall out. He stared at the man with a cockeyed head. "Don't worry. Papa Nurgle's gonna treat ya right after I gut ya like a damn fish!" The Plague Marine laughed, as he stuck his Power Sword into the man's stomach and began to jerk it from side to side. The man screamed in pain and protest, blood spraying like a fountain from his stomach and his intestines spilling to the floor. The Plague Marine's armor now had splotches of red, as he chuckled. He grabbed a now unrecognizable corpse and sat on a stool, ripping its head off and beginning to fashion the skull into a Blight Grenade. The corpses, now being eaten by flies and parasites, were sure enough to attract attention when they were alive... [spoiler]Open to all.[/spoiler]