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9/10/2016 6:11:30 AM
1
The Champion of Nurgle stopped once the two laid eyes on him. Morbus was rather surprised they heard him before they smelled him, but it was now obvious he was emitting an odor that could kill a regiment of Guardsmen if breathed in.
His armor was cracked and rusted, with holes seeping puss and a black liquid. His Grey-Green Mark VIII Armor was lined with rusted gold, littered with writings and scratches, and bearing the Mark of Nurgle at the center.
His helmet resembled a Gas Mask, as it seemed to shift when the Champion breathed. Flies began to investigate the two heralds of the Blood God with alien curiosity from Morbus' armor.
The living hive before the two had his Corrupted Power Sword cleaved into a man's skull half-way, an expression of terror stuck on the victims face.
The entry point of the blade sprouted black veins through the man's head, as parasites crawled into and throughout his face. The Plague Marine held his Power Sword in a backwards grip, nonchalantly dragging the corpse behind him.
A Bolter, rotting and infested with flies, was seen held in his right hand as well. Finally, he reacted to the two. He was pretty relaxed, as most are who are infected by the Plague Father's gifts.
"'Ello."
The Plague Marine lifted two fingers with his right hand, a lazy wave of sorts.
English
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Brund sneered at the stench beneath his helm, Kharn showed no emotion beneath his. The Plague marines were either valued allies that were relentless in fulfilling their objective, or merciless enemies. Brund hoped against the latter. Kharn spoke first. "What is your business here scion of nurgle, choose your words carefully." Brund naturally stiffened in the presence of a threat, they would not act though unless acted upon. This was the way of an uneasy alliance between traitors. Kharn on the other hand sat unmoving, waiting on the warrior's response.
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"Ah, ya know, the usual. Just spreading Papa's love and what not." He chuckled, his gas mask bobbing up and down. It almost sounded like a gurgling, as if liquid was built up in his throat. He examined the Berzerker next to Brund, noticing the bare right arm. "Oi, you're that Betrayer fellow, aren't ya? Khârn, right?" Morbus holstered his Bolter at his side, as he looked over to the corpse his Power Sword was carrying. He gripped its neck with a powerful, armored hand and ripped it off. The body fell to the ground, and the head was still stuck on the blade. Morbus ripped it off, presented it to the two, and dropped it to their feet. "Khorne likes skulls, don't he? Consider it a peace offering. I'm sure where you Berzerkers go, death'll follow. Lucky for me, Nurgle's the God of Death, so...." He stared at the two, arms spread out, then dropped to his sides. "I'm sure I can help ya with whatever you're doing. You can always use an extra soldier."
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Brund batted the mutilated head around with his foot, while Kharn relaxed his grip only slightly on Gorechild. Brund looked up at the marine and grunted. "The gesture is appreciated, I cannot speak on behalf of The Betrayer though." Kharn walked directly up to the plague marine, unaffected by the miasma surrounding him. "Do you have a problem following my orders?"
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Morbus made sure not to get on the Berzerker's bad side. Hell, he wasn't even sure if Khârn HAD a good side. He shrugged. "Why the hell not?" He picked up the beheaded corpse behind him, the body now rotting and infested with parasites and bugs. He threw it far away from the three with a single hand, it landing with a thud and a sickening crack. He seemed amused by it. He then went to readjust his Flamer mounted on the top of his wrist. "When do we start?" He inquired with a grim, eager tone.
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Edited by Robot745: 9/11/2016 5:14:53 AM"I need you to find this." He holds up a parchment with an etching of a key, adorned with a skull in the handle. It looked unremarkable but could you refuse Kharn? He stares at you waiting for your response
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"Hmmmm...." He reached to grab it, his fingers tracing it. The paper began to turn black and rot, curling up like a scared animal trying to retreat from a predator. Morbus withdrew his hand, as the paper stopped decaying. "Any idea where to start?" A Daemon fly crawled out of a crack in his armor. It flew out, circling the Plague Marine for a moment. It landed on his finger as he began to stare at it, getting lost in the creatures eyes.
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"No, which is why we all shall go in a different direction, I cannot recall due to this ship." Kharn started off down a hallway, Brund was left standing before you.
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"Alright." Morbus replied with a lazy tone. He took his Power Sword and rested it on his left pauldron, then he took out his Bolter in his other hand, keeping it at his side, and walked in the opposite direction Khârn did.
