THE GELD (2017)

Written by George Mann
Performed by Toby Longworth, Matthew Hunt, John Banks, Steve Conlin, Adrian Wheeler, Jonathan Keeble 
Scripted by Reverend
 

LIST OF CHARACTERS:
* Qeld – Shadow Captain;
* Illith – Shadow Captain; 
* Mordren – Captain from the Knights of the Raven;
* Artarix – Sergeant of the Raven Guard;
* Mazik the Unfixed – warlord of the Alpha Legion; 
* Shrike – Master of Shadows of the Raven Guard; 
* Cordae – Chaplain of the Raven Guard;
* Koryn, Corson – legionaries of the Raven Guard. 

Qeld (to himself): “My eyes are black, yet still I see”.
Shadow Captain Qeld of the Raven Guard twisted, the blade of his combat knife parting the soft flesh of the man thing’s throat. 
(Dying cultist gurgles in pain)
It’s hot traitorous blood spilling upon the dirt floor of its perverted place of worship. The body fell with a dull thud1, its vital fluids gurgling2 as they rushed to escape their prison of misshapen flesh. The thing had born a beak. 
Qeld (to himself): “I see creatures that have abased3 themselves to a foul abomination from beyond the veil of all reason. I see what they have become, what must be done”. 
Qeld turned skewering4 another man thing through the breast as it came at him from behind. Then with his knife still embedded in its chest he heaved5 it around like a shield as its kinsmen opened fire. The body shuddered as fist-sized holes punched through the dead flesh. Qeld reeled his nose at the stench of charred6 meat. He tossed down the steaming carcass. With a flick of his wrist he launched his knife in the direction of the third cultist. The blade struck the man thing in the forehead. The body crumpled7, silent, still. 
Qeld (to himself): “I see the light leave their eyes as I free them from their accursed existence. The flickering moment of fear, the silent peace that follows. There is no absolution8 except the quiet of the grave”.
More were swarming from the mouth of the adjoining cavern. A tide of corrupted flesh, men who had given themselves over so wholly to the ministrations of the warp that they had ceased to be men at all. They wore their gifts with pride, their twisted beaked faces, their taloned fingertips, their discolored flesh. Qeld bore no relation, no ancestry with these grotesqueries. They were more monster than men. Another fell as he watched, his chest blooming, sick and wet and red like unfurling9 patterns. Aside it a second one went down, its head separated from its neck. A third managed to squeeze off a shot before it stumbled over its own tangled10 guts hanging loose around its knees. The others were getting sloppy11. 
Qeld sidestepped grabbing the face of the man-thing that had attempted to sneak up on him from behind. He squeezed and its skull burst. Its body twitched as it fell to its knees. He tottered12 there for a moment before pitching13 forward into the dirt. Qeld shook the viscus matter from his fist. 
Qeld (to himself): “I see what we must become if we are to cleanse this blighted world of the perversion in its midst”.
 (illith emerges from the shadows near Qeld)
Illith (breathing heavily): “It is done”.
Shadow Captain Illith folded into existence as if parting the very darkness itself. He’d been standing no more than a few feet from Qeld, but no mortal eyes could have seen him. For he like Qeld and the others had the means to shadow walk, to pass unseen amongst any living entity with a mind. 
Illith turned to Qeld offering him a lob-sided grin. The puckered14 ribbon15 of his scar ran like a ravine16 across his face, twisting the left side of his mouth into a permanent snarl, bright and pink against the alabaster white of his flesh. Illith had lost an eye in the attack that had marked him so. A Genestealer had racked its claws across his face as it disemboweled him, but he had fought on, taking the Genestealer’s head off with his combat knife. He’d been found like that drenched17 in blood and slumped in a passageway in an old mine mistaken for dead. When the battlefield Apothecary had begun the procedure to recover Illith’s geneseed however, he had risen form the dead, a pale bloody specter still alive and still anxious to spill xenos blood. 
Badly wounded he’d been ferried18 back to Deliverance, where his missing eye had been replaced with a flickering red bionic orb. Legend had it that the devise had been manufactured on Mars during the days of the Great Crusade and for a time had resided in the head of a legendary Legion Captain, dug up from an ancient battlefield by agents of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Illith refused to confirm or deny the myths. 
He studied Qeld now, the flickering red strafing Qeld’s face, searching for a response. Beside Illith two further figures emerged, melting out of the shadows before Qeld’s eyes. Sergeant Artarix, the youngest of them, had a shaved head of black stubbly19 hair and eyes of pure darkness. 
Captain Mordren bore the silver armor of the Knights of the Raven, a successor Chapter of the Raven Guard. As such he was impure, unproven, his presence tolerated. He looked almost akin to Qeld’s brothers, but unlike the Raven Guard he had a long untamed mane20 of white hair and wore no Corvia, treasured totems made from the skulls of Kiavahr ravens upon his pelt. He carried an ancient humming power blade which never left his grip. Qeld did not trust him. 
Mordren: “The outer chambers are clear”.
Illith: “Then we move deeper, until we understand the nature of this foul place”.
He turned and folded back into the darkness making haste for the adjoining cavern. The only sign to mark his passing was the gentle stirring of the dead cultist’s hair in the breeze. 
Qeld (to himself): “We must become executioners. We must walk the shadow path and strike at the core of this festering21 nest. We must twist a knife in its corrupted heart to paralyze it forever”.
* * *
(croaking ravens fly over the Ravenspire)
Up here, close to the pinnacle22 of the Ravenspire, existed a realm of perpetual gloaming23, a haven24 designed to resemble the ancient forests of Kiavahr, a place of sanctity and solitude. Here great arboreal25 growths had been tamed, twisting themselves around the curved walls, growing thick and matted to form a lattice26 of branches high above, a canopy27 that bristled28 with the nervous twitching of a thousand ravens. 
Here too was Shrike, Chapter Master of the Raven Guard, the only one of his brothers that Qeld knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, was his better. Shrike was seated on a throne, ornamented with the bones and feathers of the Kiavahr rok. Its enormous wings erupted from the seatback29 unfurling in the cavernous30 space to give the impression that Shrike, hunched forward in thoughtful repose31, had somehow sprouted32 wings himself. His hand rested upon it’s man-sized skull mounted upon the left arm of the throne. 
(Ravenspire ravens keep croaking)
Close by stood Cordae, Shrike’s favored Chaplain, who himself was adorned with the fetishes of the dead and wore a macabre helm fashioned from the skull of a similar bird. Beside Qeld seated at a round wooden table sat Illith, Artarix and Mordren. Each of them looked ill at ease, evidently as unaware of the Chapter Master’s intent as Qeld himself.
Shrike: “These are dark days and they require dark measures”.
Shrike looked up fixing each of the warriors in turn with his unwavering33 stare. He alighted on Qeld last of all. 
Qeld: “What is it you require of us, Chapter Master?”
Shrike ignored the warrior’s question. 
Shrike: “The ways of the Raven Guard are ancient, ancient and revered. We find strength in stealth, power in subterfuge34. We wear the shadows as our armor and we strike at the very heart of our enemies. Our battle-brothers might work to erode the enemies of Imperium slowly, clashing in righteous conflict. We prefer more subtle methods, more decisive”.
Qeld glanced across at Illith. He was watching the Chapter Master intently, his brow deeply furrowed35. 
Shrike: “We understand the virtue of infiltration, of removing the head so that the body flails, of disrupting the enemy from within. We work behind the enemy’s lines to clear a path for our brothers to do their work. In this way a single warrior might conquer a world. None in our history were so adept at this as those of the Mor Deythan, those who could walk unseen in the shadows, who might tread a lone path through the darkness, clouding the minds of the unwary36 as they passed”.
(Shrike stands up and starts to walk around)
Slowly Shrike rose to his feet. His armor was sleek37 and black and glinted in inky half-light. Now Qeld knew why he had been brought here, back to the Ravenspire for this unprecedented audience. Now he understood. 
Qeld (to himself): “I am the righteousness38 that stalks the night”.
Shrike crossed the room to stand before their table. He leaned forward placing both palms on its surface.
Shrike: “It is for this reason that you are here. The ability to shadow walk, a genetic trait that has all but forgotten, near eradicated from our geneseed. And yet…”
He looked directly at Qeld and Qeld felt the weight of that stare, felt the burden of the responsibility he carried. 
Shrike: “And yet the four of you know something of it, do you not?”
Qeld moistened his lips.
Qeld (to himself): “I am the killer that strikes from the shadows. I issue no warning, show no mercy. I bring only judgment to the enemies of the Imperium (aloud) Aye, Chapter Master, I believe I do”.
The others murmured39 their solemn40 agreement. 
Others: “Aye!”
It was not a matter to be taken lightly. Qeld had never spoken of it to anyone and he had ever since the earliest days of his trials on Kiavahr when he had proved himself in the ritual capture of a raven when he had claimed its soul and skull as his own and earned his place amongst the Raven Guard. He had known he was different. While the other initiates had shown a proclivity41 for stealth and cunning, Qeld had mastered the shadows themselves, seemingly able to walk unseen by his brothers, to somehow cloud their minds to his presence. To him it had been a curse, a thing that set him apart from his brothers. They had known it too and while they had not shunned42 him, they treated him with caution and on occasion mistrust. 
Qeld (to himself): “I am the dichotomy at the heart of all things, pale and black, savior and murderer, protector and warrior”.
In the years that had followed he had deployed the skill only rarely, in times of dire need. And yet it had served him and his brothers well. He had risen swiftly through the ranks, surviving embittered conflicts against the many foul races that teamed across the galaxy and those that lurked in the dark realms beyond it too. And yet he had never given voice to it. Now it seemed what had lurked unacknowledged in the darkness for so long, was about to be dragged into the light. 
Qeld (to himself): “I am Raven Guard. I am death!”
Shrike stood back from the table and straightened to his full impressive height.
Shrike: “In ancient times, it is said, the Mor Deythan came together in moments of extraordinary peril43. They were the secret weapon of Corax himself. His elite, deployed in unconventional circumstances to aid their brothers, to walk unseen amongst the enemy and undertake the most extreme but necessary missions. Now is such a moment. You sit before me as an echo of that once great order. You are what remains of the Mor Deythan. You are my Shadowmasters”.
* * *
They ghosted into the adjoining chamber, weapons ready. Here the walls of the cavern were defined by roughly hewn crystalline lattice44, which glittered and shifted under the altering quality of the light. Candles stood upon iron sconces45 and two tall pillars had been shaped from translucent46 stalagmites carved into totems that resembled a sea of screaming faces, as if men had somehow been absorbed into the stone against their will and were still fighting to break free. The floor of the cavern was littered with more of the avian cultists, dressed in loose-fitting robes and carrying sickle47-shaped swords and las pistols. A dozen of them at least crumpled on the dusty ground, their throats yawning48 open where they had been sliced from ear to ear. No sign remained of any of the other combatants. Qeld was forced to conclude that the monstrous things had turned upon themselves. He’d heard tales of such things, that the imprecations49 of Chaos were fickle50 and trickery and betrayal was the creed by which these fallen souls egged out their miserable existences. Nevertheless, he tightened his grip on his bolter. 
Ahead Artarix broke cover, stepping out of the shadows, his bolter sweeping the heaped remains of the dead. He glanced at the others as they too emerged from the velvet black. 
Artarix: “We have passed this way before. The tunnels in this strange place shift around us. It is built to deceive”.
Mordren shook his head. 
Mordren: “No, while I do not disagree with you regarding the byzantine51 nature of this fortress, brother, I do not believe we have passed this way. These pillars seem unfamiliar”.
He crossed to one of the pillars, leaning closer to examine the elaborate52 carving.
Illith: “Come, brothers. I do not trust this place”.
Mordren nodded and stepped back from the pillar. As he did, Qeld saw his eyes widen in horrified surprise. He swung his sword around in defensive arc as if suddenly convinced that the pillar itself was about to attack him.
Qeld: “Mordren, what see you!”
Mordren: “I see horror. I see blasphemy”.
He fell back raising his sword just as something seemed to lurch out from behind the pillar, striking at him with its own humming blade. Their weapons clashed and Mordren staggered under the unexpected force of the blow, grimacing as he fought to push his assailant back. Qeld raised his bolter trying to get a bead53 on this new unseen enemy. He circled around keeping the nose of his weapon up, waiting for it to hove54 into view. 
Artarix (shouting and opening fire): “AAAA!”
From across the cavern he heard Artarix shout, followed by the rumbling bark of his bolter. He kept his eyes fixed on the pillar, as he edged toward, his back to the cavern wall.
Mordren had wasted little time and was now fully engaged with the enemy, their swords clashing violently and loudly as they too circled the pillar. As Qeld watched, a booted foot followed by a pauldron emerged from behind the pillar and he got his first clear look at Mordren’s assailant. 
(assailant unleashes a deep snarl)
The thing, for it was no living creature, was a mirror image of Mordren, twisted and misshapen and formed from the same translucent crystal as the walls. It moved with stuttering grace, mirroring Mordren’s own movements, its blade swinging up to parry his every move. It creaked55 as it walked as if the crystal itself was protesting at being forced to adopt such strange organic shapes and its face was a mask of sheer hatred, a malformed parody of Mordren’s own. It was diabolic, a construct of infernal creation, that had somehow manifested from inside of the pillar when Mordren had peered too close. 
Qeld: “Do not look at the pillars”.
Qeld knew his warning was already too late. Another figure had half-emerged from the other pillar, now trapped at the waist, swinging its one arm free to attempt to grab hold of Artarix who was backing away, his bolter screaming as he loosed round after round into the strange reflection. The explosive rounds punched holes in the crystal golem, but still it came on, attempting to wrench56 itself free of its prison. 
Close by Mordren was still trying to gain the upper hand, driving his doppelganger back with relentless assault with his power sword. Their weapons sparked as they clashed, showering the ground with hot fizzing57 fragments. Qeld squeezed the trigger of his bolter losing a hail of rounds which slammed into the side of the doppelganger, detonating as they struck its strange crystal armor. They barely seemed to have any impact at all as the thing redoubled its attack, lurching forward and causing Mordren to stumble against the pillar almost losing his footing. 
Illith was behind it now though and with both hands clutched around the grip of his combat blade, he buried the weapon in the back of the thing’s neck just above the gorget58. It screeched, discordant59 and inhuman, and staggered back luring its blade as it reached for the hilt of the knife still buried in its neck. Mordren lunged impaling the doppelganger through its chest. With a shattering burst it exploded sending a bloom of glittering fragments into the air. 
The second construct was still grabbing frantically60 for Artarix who had moved safely out of its reach, but had relented in his attempt to obliterate it with bolter fire. He nodded to Mordren who cleaved the thing’s head from its shoulders in one quick satisfying motion. The hunk61 of solid crystal rolled across the ground bumping against the corpse of one of the dead cultists. Its features remained fixed in a snarling parody of Artarix’s face. 
Mordren turned to Artarix. 
Mordren (sarcastically): “No, we have not passed through here already. I believe I’d remember”.
* * *
(croaking ravens fly over the Ravenspire)
Illith (angrily): “You mean to strip us of our Companies”.
Shrike: “No, I mean only to call on you in the direst of circumstances, to come together when the Chapter needs you most, irrespective of your existing duties”.
Qeld glowered62 at Mordren who had sat through Shrike’s speech in solemn silence, barely even acknowledging the others’ presence. He turned to Shrike.
Qeld: “Surely this is a matter for the Raven Guard and not our derivations63”.
Shrike slammed his fist upon the table.
Shrike: “The Knights of the Raven are our creed. They too share the legacy of Corax. They stand with us as brothers against the dark tide of Chaos that threatens to engulf this galaxy. These are dark times, Qeld. Do not think for a moment I shall stand for divisiveness or talk of Chapter purity. Mordren deserves his place at this table and you shall show him respect”.
Qeld inclined64 his head in contrition65. He hadn’t even mentioned Artarix. He was only a Sergeant. 
Behind Shrike the sinister figure of Cordae loomed66, his bird skull mask bobbed67 as he moved in a strange parody of the creature it had once belonged to. 
Cordae: “And you are certain of this, Chapter Master? This undertaking?”
Shrike turned to study the Chaplain.
Shrike: “I am certain that I have no choice, that in this time of need as the tide of the universe turns against us, I see strength in unity between kin. The chance to make a difference, to fight a different kind of war against a different kind of enemy. These four brothers will be the tool I employ to do it”.
Illith: “I stand with you! For Corax!”.
Artarix: “For Corax!”
Mordren glanced at Qeld. His lip curled in a wry68 smile.
Mordren: “For Corax!”
Qeld: “Aye, for Corax and for the Emperor!”
* * *
(Legionaries slowly tread along the labyrinth)
The passageway ahead had grown narrow as it wound deeper into the mountain. Walls here were still shot through with spidery veins of crystal but they had now left the strange pillared chamber far behind. The path had begun to ascend rising slowly, drawing them on towards Mazik’s lair at the very peak of the worm-like fortress. They’d met only slight resistance, a handful of unsuspecting cultists dragging a chain gang of human slaves along behind them. The humans had probably been marked for sacrificial rites or worse and so the Raven Guard had killed them all, unable to consider allowing the humans to go free after spending so long in the proximity of such horrors. It was likely that the vile things they had seen had polluted their weak minds and that it would manifest later continuing the work of the cultists’ foul god. 
Up ahead the mouth of the passage flared into the opening of another cavern. Qeld could already smell the tang69 of spilt blood in the air and he drew his combat knife as he approached the shadowy opening. He heard Illith issue a series of clicks barely distinguishable above the ambience of the cavern, which to Qeld’s trained ear were a series of commands to enter the cavern and fan out70 skirting71 the edge of the space until they could establish the scale of the threat. 
Qeld followed behind Mordren who hugged72 the wall, sliding effortlessly from one shadowy pool to the next, even somehow managing to obscure the reflective panels of his power-armor from view. He was no Raven Guard but Qeld had to admit, Mordren was a valuable battle brother. 
The roughly hewn walls of the cavern opened out into a flagstone73 space with three further exits disappearing off into darkness. The room had been set out as a shrine with a raised central plinth bearing a stone altar and a high ceiling dripping with stalactites.  The altar was largely unadorned save for a huge eye of polished red and purple gems inlaid into its front slab74. It shone as if lit from within and Qeld couldn’t shake the uncomfortable notion that it was watching him. There was nothing alive in the chamber, but once again there were corpses, only this time they wore familiar black armor and beaked helms. Raven Guard… 
Illith: “Artarix, watch the exits”
Illith crossed to the foot of the altar, where the nearest of the fallen lay face down, his bolter still gripped in his left hand and a weeping hole in his chest where his hearts used to be. 
Qeld: “There are five of them, all bearing similar wounds”.
One had lost an arm, another a leg, while the third’s helm had been cracked and scorched and he had fallen back against the wall, the lower half of his burnt face visible through the shattered ceramite. 
Mordren: “They went down fighting. That much is clear”.
Qeld did not recognize any of the dead. The bore the markings of the 4th Company, serving under Shadow Captain Koryn.
Qeld: “An advance party”.
Mordren: “Then they had done well to make it this deep into the mountain before encountering resistance”.
Illith: “Traitors, they were killed by bolter fire”.
Qeld: “Or trickery. We have already learned that in this place we cannot trust even our own senses. Perhaps, their minds became clouded by some malign influence and they killed one another in their own crossfire. I see no evidence of their attackers. Could warriors of the Raven Guard truly prove so ineffective that they should fail to even draw blood?”
Illith: “It is possible, yet this one… This one was shot through the chest from that direction”.
Illith pointed towards the trio of branching exits. 
Illith: “The position of the bodies suggests another party was involved”.
Qeld (snarling): “Then we shall see them avenged”.
* * *
(battle rages on and above the surface of the planet)
The sky was crisscrossed with funnels75 of superheated air and fire and lit by the stuttering flash of tracer. Black smoke smeared the horizon, bruised and dark as if some vengeful god had used his thumb to cloak the sun in a thick pool of ash. The scream of engines sounded like the fabric of the world being torn asunder as the Raven Guard’s now depleted squadrons of Stormhawks and Stormtalons engaged the seemingly endless flock of enemy Heldrakes. Qeld watched them for a moment spiraling through the air, blooming and firing death, seeking a path through the blockade to the civilian settlements so they might continue their devastating bombardments. The Raven Guard were holding them back but at enormous cost. It was only a matter of time before another of the enemy flyers broke through and then the bombing raids would resume.
Raven Guard legionaries: “Victorus Aut Mortis!”
Qeld turned, squat76 and looming, the mountain fortress of the enemy dominated the horizon, a soaring77 peak riddled with caverns punctuated with buttresses78 and barking gun emplacements. And at the very top, deep inside the mountain, the stronghold of the enemy commander, the one they called Mazik the Unfixed. 
Shrike’s briefing had been short and to the point. Qeld and his fellow Shadowmasters were to penetrate deep into the stronghold and take down Mazik, cutting off the enemy chain of command and leaving them open to an all-out assault by the gathered Raven Guard. Even now they laid siege to the slopes of the mountain, repelled form all sides by swarms of vile mutated cultists, demon spawn and traitors. 
Koryn: “For twelve days we have laid siege to the eyrie and still each wave of attack breaks upon their defenses”.
Qeld turned to see Shadow Captain Koryn of the 4th Company, striding across the rugged tundra behind them. He wore ancient armor with a flared respirator, twin lightning claws and the names of all of its previous owners carefully engraved onto its outer carapace. Qeld had fought alongside Koryn on many occasions and admired his skill in battle as well as his ability to command. If even he could not break the enemy forces, then the situation was dire79 indeed. 
Illith: “I presume all of this amounts to a distraction, that you’ve already sent a team into the fortress to affect an assassination”.
Qeld could imagine the expression on Koryn’s face, but it was hidden behind the face-plate of his helm. To his credit his voice remained leveled, even. 
Koryn: “Three teams have been dispatched. None so far as I am aware have managed to breach the highest layers of the warren80. One squad reported severe losses before going silent. Another had their heads paraded from the upper parapets on spikes. And the third has not been heard from since they breached the outer wall”.
He looked form Illith to Artarix to Qeld, studiously81 ignoring Mordren.  
Koryn: “And now the Chapter Master sends you”.
Mordren: “Tell us more of this Mazik the Unfixed. A renegade Astartes, I presume?”
Koryn: “Aye, a traitor, Alpha Legion. A former Apothecary taken to inflicting his insane experiments upon his followers. You’ll see evidence of his work amongst the dead”.
Illith: “We shall dispatch more of the creatures ourselves. You’ve scouted for the best entrance into the mountain?”
Koryn: “Aye, a third of the way up the slope, through a small cave mouth just east of that promontory82”.
Koryn pointed to indicate the location.
Illith: “Very well. We move out. Continue the assault, Shadow Captain Koryn. Keep them busy while we do our work”.
Koryn: “I intend to”.
* * *
The cultist blinked vaguely aware of the sudden alteration in the air currents before Qeld opened its chest with a violent downward stroke from his combat knife. It scrambled for the bloody mess, hissing as it tried to push itself back together before collapsing to its knees, its eyes rolling back in its head as it pitched forward. Around Qeld the shadows danced, a violent silent ballet as the whirling blades of the Shadowmasters cut through the remaining cultists in seconds. It was as if the shadows themselves had suddenly become weapons, razor-edged and deadly.  Twelve of the man-things buckled83, arterial blood arching through the air as they gasped their final breaths. Neither of them had the chance to reach for their weapons. 
Qeld stood for a moment waiting for the room to grow silent again, for the hissing and wheezing84 of the dying cultists to grow still. The chamber was a storehouse, filled with sacks of grain and fetid85 animal carcasses they hung pendulously86 from severe looking hooks in the walls.  The stench was close to overwhelming. 
(Illith makes four clicking sounds)
He heard Illith issue a command to move on and melted into the darkness. It had been almost an hour since they’d found their dead kin beside the altar, but the sight that greeted Qeld now almost belied belief. The room was identical to the one they’d passed through earlier, right down to the jewel-like eye and five of the Raven Guard. Only this time his brothers were alive. Qeld froze, listening. He heard more clicks from Illith. This time he was warning them of a trap, perhaps, convinced that these fellow Raven Guard were not but apparitions87 conjured into existence by this strange byzantine place. Qeld studied the jewel-like eye on the shrine. Had they traversed a circle? Had the tunnels somehow warped their special perception or worse their perception of time itself? Were they seeing the ghosts of brothers that had once lived or were they now somehow interceding88 into their final moments, looping back to a time before Qeld and the others had happened upon their corpses in the first instance?  
(Illith makes more clicking sounds)
Illith gave the order for all except Mordren to break cover, leaving the Knight of the Raven lurking in the shadows, ready to strike if the fiver Raven Guard transpire89 to be apparitions or constructs like the doppelgangers they did encounter earlier. The grizzled90 squad Sergeant turned towards Illith raising his bolt pistol, his finger on the trigger. He hesitated when he saw Illith lower his blade, eyes widening in surprise. Qeld recognized him immediately from the last time they’d been in a room. He’d been the corpse missing its leg, the only one amongst his squad without a helm. 
Illith: “Stand down, Sergeant”.
The Sergeant’s pistol wavered91 and then he did as Illith commanded, lowering his weapon. Clearly he too had seen the phantoms.
Corson: “Shadow Captain, you are not expected”.
Illith: “Indeed”.
Corson: “I am Corson of the 4th. Shadow Captain Koryn charged us with infiltrating this vile place”.
Illith: “Agreed, vile is the word. How long since deployment?”
Corson: “Six days, four hours and thirty-seven minutes”.
Illith glanced over his shoulder at Qeld. Their eyes met. Corson turned abruptly92 at the sight of something over Illith’s shoulder. 
Corson: “Incoming!”
Qeld twisted on the spot to see a towering figure emerging from the tunnel mouths ahead. It lumbered forward with a rigid93 mechanical gate. It bore the shape and the form of a Space Marine, but its armor was ancient and unfamiliar. And atop its helm it carried a golden crest. As it stepped into the light, Qeld saw strange symbols and traceries94 upon its blue pauldrons, shifting and swirling as if by their own volition. It was carrying an ancient pattern of bolter.
Artarix: “Traitors!”
Qeld sensed Artarix ghost away into the shadows. Behind the traitor Marine another two were emerging fanning out to flank their kin and behind them Qeld could see the golden crests of two more. 
Corson (commanding): “Fire!”
Corson’s Raven Guard squad spread out into a line, their weapons barking, shots echoing like thunder claps in the enclosed space of the cavern. 
Qeld: “Traitor scum!”
Qeld swept up his bolter and joined them in their onslaught, showering the traitors in a hail of explosive shells. To Qeld’s dismay the traitors simply continued their onward march, bolter round detonating against their armor punching holes in the ceramite that instead of spilling blood plumed with clouds of swirling dust. He’d heard tell of such things, but had never before encountered them. Traitors who had put their faith in sorcery, whose masters had withered their bodies inside their armor, turning them to living dust. A Legion of mindless killing machines in the service of Chaos. He had no idea how to kill such a thing.
The lead traitor stopped suddenly and swung its weapon around firing a shot that removed a Raven Guard’s arm in a shower of hot blood and sent him reeling95. He scrambled96 for his dropped weapon, but another round burst apart his chest, spraying organs and fractured ceramite up the crystal infused wall. 
Corson (charging): “AAAA!”
Corson stalked forward, his bolt pistol trained on the traitor’s head. Qeld saw its face-plate blow apart under the onslaught, dust swirling around the wound, but then the monster simply turned its head and trained its bolter on Corson, taking off his leg and toppling97 him. He reeved his chain-sword clambering98 towards the altar for cover, but it was too late. Then he was blown backwards by a second bolter round. 
Corson (crying in pain): “AAA!”
Qeld twisted sliding into the shadows. He ran towards the wall intending to circle around behind the traitors, but the thud of rounds inches from his head caused him to skid to a stop, throwing himself awkwardly against the rock-face to avoid being hit. He turned to see one of the traitors looking directly at him, its weapon trained in his direction. With a dawning99 realization he understood what was happening. These things that had once been Adeptus Astartes, they no longer had any minds to obfuscate100.
Qeld: “They can see us!”
He shoved himself away from the wall spitting a hail of covering fire as he fell back. Close by the remaining three Raven Guards spread out further making smaller targets of themselves, as they continued to rain bolter shells into the ponderous101 traitors. To Qeld’s extreme left Artarix was pressed against the wall chewing up one of the traitors with round after round of well-placed shots. Illith was stealing102 around the back of the enemy and as Qeld scanned the shadows, he saw Mordren launch himself at one of the flanking traitors, his massive sword humming. The blade cleaved the traitor from shoulder to hip spilling precious streams of life dust upon the slabs. It twisted trying to round Mordren but he yanked103 his blade free and buried it again in the thing’s chest spearing it to the hilt. 
(Traitor Astartes issues a deep moan)
He staggered back wrenching his weapon with both hands so that the blade came up and out slicing through the traitor’s other shoulder. The sheer momentum of the blow caused the traitor to topple forward, the upper half of its body cut free in a jagged V which separated as it fell. Gray dust poured from inside the armor in a torrent and the traitor finally lay still. 
(distant scream)
Qeld twisted and saw another of the 4th Company had fallen. The figure staggered towards the altar, two fist-sized holes in its chest. This was the first of the bodies that examined, dead on the plinth, his arm outstretched as if grasping for the bejeweled eye. Everything was playing out just as it had before, except he, Illith and the other Shadowmasters were here too. 
Raven Guard Legionary (in the distance): “For Corax!” 
The scene was near identical, but earlier there had been no traitors or at least no trace of their remains. 
Raven Guard Legionary (in the distance): “Victorus Aut Mortis!” 
Qeld peered again at the eye. Around him bolter shells were flying, whizzing104 past his helm, thudding into the wall behind him, but for a moment none of that seemed to matter. The eye was looking into him, calling to him, beckoning him to come closer. He could hear it whispering to him now, its dark imprecations worming their way to his ears, threatening to take root in his mind. He gritted his teeth, raised his bolter and opened fire. Bejeweled eye exploded in hail of shattered gemstones, broken fragments hurtling through the air pinning against his chest plate, as he stormed forward, his bolter chattering, decimating the bizarre beguiling105 mosaic, tearing chunks out of the stone altar. He stood in a cloud of swirling dust and stone fragments until the base of the altar collapsed and it pitched forward, eroded by the ferocity of the onslaught. Finally, his bolter clicked redundantly106 in his grip, the magazine empty. 
Drawing a ragged107 breath Qeld looked up to see his three battle brothers staring at him in bewilderment108. Mordren was standing over a scattered pile of dust, the tip of his sword trailing upon the ground. Artarix was attempting to load a new magazine into his bolter and Illith was retrieving his combat blade from the dusty ground at his feet. As Qeld looked on, the dust seemed to gather itself before swirling away into nothing, as if carried off by an unnatural wind.  
Artarix: “Brother?”
Qeld looked down at the bolter in his hands, the devastation before him. For a moment words evaded him. 
Qeld: “It was the eye asserting the malign109 influence over us, testing us, reworking time itself to… trap us in whatever diabolical loop our brothers had been caught in for days”.
He looked around to see the remaining two were now dead, sprawled in the positions in which he and the others had first found them. They’d been like that for some time.
Artarix: “You mean to say, all of this was a mere illusion? A corruption of the mind?”
Qeld: “No, no, those traitors seemed real enough. I think this happened days ago and this place… it had somehow drawn us into its trap, luring us back here to our deaths”.
Illith (breathing hard): “Deaths which you have averted110”.
Qeld: “Aye, but narrowly, brother. Those traitors could see us. Our shadow walk is useless in the face of mindless enemies”.
Mordren: “And our senses too cannot be trusted. That which is false, becomes real”.
Illith: “Then we proceed with caution”.
He reclaimed his blade and stood, making for the central exit. 
Artarix: “How can we be certain that the same path will not lead us back here again?”
Illith: “We cannot, but we shall tread it all the same, for it is the only path that winds higher into mountain and towards our goal”.
* * *
(battle rages on, several flyers fly overhead)
The mountain was littered with the dead. The fallen of the Raven Guard lay in sickening proximity to the broken bodies of the heathens111 they had slain, uneasy bed for those continuing their battle well beyond the point of drawing breath. A sole Apothecary crept amongst the corpses, cracking ceramite and harvesting geneseed. Later when all of this was over Qeld hoped their Corvia would be collected too and brought back to Kiavahr so the dead might be properly honored. 
All around them the battle raged as the Raven Guard fell in wave after wave against the unyielding112 defenses of Mazik’s forces. Terminators fell thunderously upon the churning vehicles of the enemy, which prowled the lower slopes, their cannons belching fire into the swarming ranks of Space Marines below. Land Speeders harried113 the cultists in the armored promontories on the upper slopes, whilst assault squads tore into the gibbering horrors and warp spawn that spilled from within the mountain. From above plasma cannons spat searing energy at the Raven Guard’s tanks turning Rhinos and Land Raiders alike to glowing metal sludge114 and boiling battle brothers alive inside their power armor. 
(beaked monster unleashes a war cry)
In the distance a bizarre monstrous demon with a bird’s head stormed through the ranks of the Raven Guard snapping and rending, tearing and transmuting, cutting a swathe of death in its wake. 
Artarix was standing at the mouth of a narrow gulley115. With a grunt he shifted the slumped corpse of a dead abhuman out of their path which had evidently brought down three Raven Guard before their brothers had felled it with a frag grenade, blowing a hole in its side. Mordren went to Artarix’s aid sharing the burden as they rolled the waxy corpse down the scrub116-covered mountainside. Qeld could see unnatural maggots had already set to work inside the exposed chest of the carcass, feasting on its dead heart. 
Artarix: “This is it”.
Artarix indicated the narrow passage through the rock, which led down for a few feet before disappearing into a shadowy fissure117 in the mountainside. Blood was smeared118 ominously119 across one side of the gulley120, the fading impression of another recent battle. 
Mordren (unsheathing his sword): “Looks welcoming”.
Illith (calmly): “Come, there is work to be done”.
Together the four Shadowmasters slipped silently into the mouth of the fissure, from where they would begin their gradual ascend into the inner chambers of the mountain. 
* * *
Qeld: “A malign presence lurks here, in this unfathomable121 realm inside the mountain. I hear its taunts, its whispers, its invitations”. 
Artarix: “We are walking in circles. We have passed this way before”.
Illith: “No, it is the devious nature of this place. It seeks to confuse. See here the sweep122 of the wall? The angle of the incline of the floor? It is an optical illusion designed to disorientate. I have tracked our progress. We are nearing the top of the mountains. Soon we shall find our target”.
Qeld: “Aye, but we should anticipate further trickery at every turn. We are near the traitor’s lair, but where are the guards? We have been unopposed since destroying the shrine. Our passage has been too easy”.
Mordren: “It is as if these tunnels had been designed to aid our passage, shepherding us towards this point. I fear they are guiding us towards another trap”.
Qeld: “Hm, as if Mazik knows we are coming”.
Illith: “The shadow path will guide us”.
Qeld (aloud): “Blind faith will not. We near our target, tread with caution, brothers (to himself) It knows us for what we are… It sees what others cannot… and it hungers… “
They returned to the shadows passing swiftly around the narrow bends, weapons trained to front and rear, mindful of the trickery of the labyrinthine warren. Illith had been correct, they were looping around the inside of the mountain peak in concentric circles, each revolution growing smaller, drawing them closer and closer to Mazik and whatever awaited them at his eyrie123. 
The path ahead narrowed to a small opening barely large enough for one of them to pass through at a time. Columns of smooth-dressed stone framed the hall, each one engraved in unfamiliar whirls of pictograms. Just looking at them incited124 a mixture of trepidation125 and loathing126 within Qeld. He halted on the threshold and the others broke from the shadows to stand behind him. 
Qeld (breathing hard): “I can see nothing beyond the opening. It is as if my vision is obscured and the darkness cannot be penetrated”.
Artarix: “It is unnatural, conjured by warp filth…”
(Qeld snarls in agreement)
Artarix: “…and yet there is no other way, except to fail in our task. Stand aside, Qeld. I shall breach it first.
Illith: “Remain on vox contact!”
Artarix: “Aye!”
Artarix approached the opening, ducked his head and stepped through. For a moment there was nothing but silence, then the voice crackled suddenly to life in Qeld’s ear.  
Artarix (over vox): “There is a small chamber. The walls are fashioned from sheets of pure crystal. It glows with an unholy…”
(vox interference)
Illith (over vox): “Artarix?”
(Illith listens a sec, unsheathes his blade and cries)
Illith: “GO!”
Qeld drew his blade and stepped into the envelope of darkness. For a moment he felt as if he were cocooned in something warm and black pressing in from all sides, stifling his breath, obscuring his vision. He pushed, thrashing out as if tearing his way through the Immaterium itself. He slashed at the air with his blade and it met resistance piercing something strange and intangible127. It seemed to part in his wake breaking into feathery fragments that gusted128 away on a non-existent breeze, resembling nothing so much as Kiavahr ravens taking flight. 
(almost near silence, distant barely heard whispers)
A moment later they had gone and he was alone. He was standing in a room constructed from walls of polished crystal which seemed to shine with their own inner radiance, shifting along a spectrum of blues and greens and golds. There was no evidence of Artarix or his passing, only a single doorway led on deep into the crystal complex that appeared to stem from this initial chamber.  
Qeld (over vox): “Artarix! Do you read me?”
(white noise over the vox)
Qeld (over vox): “Artarix! Repeat!”
(white noise)
Artarix (over vox, voice barely recognizable): “Eyes… changing… do not trust…”
Qeld (over vox): “Illith!”
Illith (over vox): “I read you, Qeld”.
Qeld (over vox): “There is no sign of Artarix. I am going after him, into the next chamber”.
Qeld glanced around. Behind him the portal through which he had entered swirled with the same strange black viscus129 substance he had waded130 through. 
Qeld sheathed his knife and raised his bolter. Cautiously he crossed the room approaching the narrow opening, scanning for any sign of Artarix. He could see through into the next chamber which seemed to mirror the first in almost every way save for the fact the opening was on the west wall and there was no sign of another portal. No sign of Artarix either. 
(Qeld treads on breathing hard)
Qeld stepped up to opening, only to rebound noisily from a solid crystal wall. Shaking his head, he touched the barrier. Now there was no sign of the opening at all, just simply another sheet of glowing crystal standing in his path. He turned on the spot keeping his bolter leveled to see that the portal had now disappeared too, replaced by yet another wall. And now a new opening had appeared in the east wall, identical to the previous one. He hurried over to it cautiously reaching out only to discover that this too was an illusion. 
Qeld (over vox): “Artarix, can you hear me?”
Artarix (in close proximity): “Do not trust your eyes”.
Qeld turned, but there was no one there. 
Qeld (over vox): “Mordren…”
It seemed they had all become lost in the hellish maze. 
Qeld (to himself): “Do not trust your eyes…”
Artarix’s words, if indeed they were Artarix’s words and not some further trickery, echoed in his mind. 
Artarix (in the distance): “Do not trust your eyes”.
The entire complex was an illusion or at least one fallacy131 had been layered upon another, tricking his eyes, causing him to believe the walls had somehow shifted, parting to form new doorways while closing others in their wake. That was what Artarix had been telling him, not to trust his own eyes. But what of his other senses? Had they too fallen prey to the twisted imprecations of this bizarre place? 
Qeld drew deep breath and closed his eyes. 
Qeld (to himself): “The darkness is our shield. The shadow path will guide us”.
There was nothing but him, the center of all things. The eddy132 of a gentle breeze stirring his hair, brushing his pale cheek… He turned and walked towards it, his eyes tightly shot. One step, then two and then more, as he walked briskly133 towards the opening he knew was there. He heard the timbre of his footsteps change and realized he had passed into the adjoining chamber. He stood for a moment and then set out again striding with growing confidence, moving on through the next room and then the room after that, winding his way deeper and deeper into the crystalline maze. 
Qeld (to himself): “My eyes are black, yet still I see”.
Five rooms later he sensed a change in the quality of the air. He stopped on the threshold, his finger twitching on the trigger of his bolter. There was something else in the room. He could feel its presence. 
(distant snarling)
Qeld moistened his lips. He knew the thing was looking at him, weighing him up.  It was on his right, pressed up against the wall. Its fingers were trailing over the polished crystal, its feet stirring the granules of dust on the ground. It was not of this realm; of that he was certain. He waited sensing its impatience. It wanted him to move to spring its trap.
Qeld: “Not yet… Not yet… Not yet…”
(best loses patience and charges with a roar)
It shifted launching itself into the air and Qeld swung his bolter in a wide arc, squeezing the trigger and losing round after round. The sudden noise was startling and obscene134 after the relative silence of the last few minutes, but he heard the satisfying thud of shells over its soft flesh as the shots found their mark shredding the beast in midair. It flopped135 to the ground easy as it gave it final throes136 in the mortal realm. Then it was gone and all was silent again. 
He pressed on striding through the darkness, more at home in its comforting embrace than he had felt since he’d first entered the infernal fortress.
Qeld (to himself): “We are Raven Guard and we shall not be dissuaded from our righteous path, no matter where it leads…”
Artarix: “Qeld?”
Qeld: “Artarix?”
Artarix: “I am here, Qeld”.
Qeld opened his eyes. Artarix stood before him, flanked by Mordren. They were standing at the base of a massive flight of steps, hewn from the same shimmering crystal as the walls and imbued137 with identical swirling colors. Their apex disappeared out of sight stretching up into the very peak of the mountain. Here wispy138 clouds had formed inside the structure, vaporous139 and gossamer140. Beyond this he presumed lay Mazik’s eyrie. 
Qeld: “Illith!”
Illith (in the distance): “Here!”
Qeld turned to see Illith’s twisted snarl as he emerged through the doorway behind him. There was blood spattered across his chest-plate. It wasn’t his. 
Mordren: “Another test overcome”.
Mordren hefted his sword. It too was smeared with blood. 
Qeld: “Aye, and now we are invited to approach our enemy through the main entrance to his lair”.
He glanced at Illith. 
Qeld: “It is not our way. He is expecting us. We walk headlong into a trap”.
Illith nodded, his expression grave. 
Illith: “Aye, but overconfidence shall prove his undoing141. He underestimates us”.
Qeld: “Oh, I think we’ve shown him exactly what we are capable of”.
He replaced the near empty magazine from his bolter.
Qeld: “Yet, I do not see we have a choice”.
Mordren: “Then, for Corax, brothers!”
Mordren met Qeld’s gaze. Qeld held it for a moment.
Qeld: “For Corax!”
(Space Marines slowly enter Mazik’s lair)
*  *  *
As they neared the top of the steps the mist seemed to close in around them. Water beaded142 on their armor and Qeld was forced to wipe it from his eyes. They were in the uppermost reaches of the mountain, deep inside its soaring peak and the air was growing thin. Ahead of Qeld Mordren had reached a level platform and stopped, half-shrouded in pale mist. He glanced back at his brothers, as if ensuring they were close behind and then gripping the hilt of his sword in both hands he stepped into the white haze143, disappearing completely. 
Qeld hurried after him taking the last few steps two at a time. The platform had been constructed from dark gray stone, carved from the very stuff of the mountain and formed a bridge of sorts across a wide ominous gulf144. He crossed it cautiously, watching the mist. Beyond he could hear no sound, not even the tread of boots to mark Mordren’s passing. He breached the mist a few seconds later and suddenly all the color, noise and horror of reality came crashing back in around him. 
The bridge emerged onto a shelf of gray stone where a large crystal archway had been erected, jagged145 and uneven, as if abandoned halfway through its construction. Mordren stood beneath the arch looking out upon a vast circular chamber. 
Here upon a throne of quivering146 flesh and bone sat Mazik the Unfixed. He was a vision of perfect imperfection, his body so twisted and mutated that it was no longer able to hold its form for more than a few seconds, before sloughing147 away only to then reform, as if his entire being had become malleable148 and inhuman. One side of his face still resembled a man, while the other was more akin to a gibbering149 spawn. The skin blistered, rubbery and foul. A single tusk grew from the base of his jaw jutting150 awkwardly through the torn flesh. Yet he still bore a semblance to the Space Marine he had once been. And for a moment Qeld thought he caught a glimpse of sorrow in the thing’s eyes. He still wore remnants of his ancient armor, vambraces and pauldrons in blue, gold and green and marked with the symbol of the three-headed hydra. The mark of the long disbanded Alpha Legion. But they no longer served as anything but hollow reminders of his once great heritage. 
Behind Mazik, a bubbling vat of green viscus fluid burbled151 in the center of the room, from which a series of fat pipes trailed siphoning152 the stuff into squat round pods153, tended by a twisted Mechanicus creature that was more machine than man. They contained what appeared to be hulking bodies, their pale flesh glistening154 and wet. Three of these creatures flanked Mazik’s throne and Qeld realized with disgust that each of them bore a familiar resemblance to their master. Despite one of them carrying a third arm, another twin heads and the third a set of insect-like pincers155, which erupted from its shoulders. These, he presumed, were the result of whatever vile experiments Mazik was carrying out with the pods. 
Mazik looked up and grinned.
Mazik: “Welcome, Shadowmasters. It is a true honor to have the children of Corax himself come to bear witness to his legacy, to become a part of that legacy. I set it’s what he would have wanted”.
Mordren: “Do not presume to speak that name”.
Mazik slowly raised himself from his throne and as he stood the thing moaned. It was another of his grotesque creations, a living creature so malformed that it was barely recognizable as living at all, its only purpose to serve his fleshy mass. Worse, it too appeared to be in some relation to his own disgusting form. Mazik gestured to the three creatures behind him. 
Mazik: “These are my Geld. They were created in Corax’s honor as a tribute to his magnificent work. I seek to complete what he started, to forge an army of Gelds in my image, crafted from my own imperfect genes”.
Qeld: “They are abominations and we will put them down”.
Mazik (laughing hysterically): “Aahahhaah, you will join with them here in my spire, just as Corax once did before me I shall set to work… I will harvest your geneseed and meld them with my own. I shall raise a new legion of Gelds and with your help they shall pass unheeded through the shadows, just as you have passed through each of my trials. Don’t you see? I erected this entire edifice156, waged this entire war for you”.
Qeld: “We shall play no part in your grotesque games, other than to end them”.
Qeld fired. Hot rounds spat from the muzzle peppering157 Mazik, causing him to stagger back into his fleshy throne. The exploding shells burst the sickening holes in his flank but as quick as they formed the wounds began to close as if the syrupy158 flesh had simply absorbed the shock of the onslaught. 
Mazik (smiling): “Oh, foolish creature! So full of righteous zeal, so blinded by your faith in your false Emperor! Understand this, I do not need you alive for my process to work”.
Mazik reared up and his Geld charged, thundering across the cavern towards the Raven Guard. Qeld ghosted left keeping Mazik in his sights, as Illith and Artarix went right, engaging the Geld. Mordren rushed forward leaping into the air, his sword wheeling in a wide arc that connected heavily with Mazik’s arm as he spun to try to fend159 Mordren off.
Mordren: “Die, fiend!”
The limb parted from Mazik’s torso with a grotesque sucking pop160 and slopped to the ground, where it seemed to lose all cohesion161, degenerating into a puddle of wretched slime. 
Mazik (moaning from pain): “Aaa, oh, you shall pay for that, primitive scum!”
Mazik thrashed out with his other arm, catching Mordren hard across the side of the head. Thrown boldly from his feet, Mordren slammed into the nearby wall, struck his head against the crystalline rock and slumped to the ground, his sword tumbling from his grasp. Mazik spun searching for Qeld. 
Mazik: “Come now, Shadowmaster! No need to be coy162”
Mazik’s flesh rippled flowing across his body as two new limbs sprung hydra-like from the stump of his shoulder. He flexed, making fists, testing their strength.  
Qeld: “For Corax!”
Qeld burst from the cover of the shadows, unleashing a hail of bolter fire into Mazik’s face, striding forward until a moment later his head had been almost entirely obliterated. Qeld stood for a moment, his bolter smoking, waiting to see if the creature was dead. 
Instead however Mazik’s flesh began to ripple once again as the head reformed and too late Qeld realized that the twin-headed Geld had broken free from the battle with Illith and Artarix and had lumbered up behind him, while he’d been otherwise engaged. He twisted attempting to sidestep163. The thing was too fast and a thunderous punch to the chest sent Qeld reeling backwards, crashing into one of the growth pods, severing one of the pipes and spilling their foul smelling liquid across the floor. 
He struggled to his feet, his bolter lost across the other side of the cavern. He circled around behind the pot as the Geld lashed closer, trying to buy enough time to consider his next move. Inside the pot the creature stirred. A quick glance told him it had originally been one of the cultists, but the green liquid had been somehow mutating it, causing its flesh to bubble as is genes were corrupted and rewritten to mirror Mazik’s own. And to think that he had done it all in the name of Corax… Qeld would ensure the vile thing died and nothing else but that.
Illith (crying): “Artarix!”
Illith and Artarix were still desperately battling other two Geld. Artarix was wounded, down on one knee and Illith’s twin combat blades were flashing frantically as he attempted to hold both of them off. 
Artarix: “Victory Aut Mortis, brother!”
Mazik was lumbering closer intent on forming a pincer movement with the Geld to trap the Shadow Captain behind the growth pod. 
Qeld drew his combat knife. He was running out of options. If Mordren sword had proved ineffective against Mazik, his own blade would barely leave a scratch. The Geld seemed somewhat less malleable164 than Mazik himself, judging by the wounds Illith had managed to inflict. But Mazik was the only real target. Qeld was beginning to think that the only option was to deploy a crack grenade, to trigger the device and hurl himself at Mazik, hoping that the ensuing explosion would disperse his bulk enough to prevent his rippling flesh from reforming. But first he had to deal with the Geld. 
Qeld: “Let us finish this”.
It swiped at Qeld with its massive fist and he ducked low and left, then came up his blade flashing, scoring a deep wound across its chest. It howled and staggered back a pace before lurching forward again, taking another swipe. This time it caught Qeld in the shoulder, the force of the blow sending him spinning to the ground. He rolled only to strike the wall, sloshing165 in the puddle of the green liquid that was still being piped through the end of the severed cable. He looked up to see the Geld looming over him, fists clasped, both arms raised above its head. There was nowhere left to go. He was pinned against the wall. He looked up at the thing’s twisted grimace just as its head separated into two, cleaved apart by Mordren’s humming blade. It waived on the spot for a moment and then pitched sideways slamming into another of the growth pods, spilling the grotesque bundle166 of flesh inside.  
Mordren: “Aye, brother! Let us finish this now”.
Qeld caught Mordren’s eye and a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them, before Mazik rounded on Mordren slamming him so brutally in the chest that his armor cracked. 
Mazik: “And still you live… Your geneseed will prove most satisfactory”.
Mordren dropped to one knee, groaning in pain, as Mazik closed on him again, his thick fingers circling Mordren’s throat as he hoisted167 him into the air. 
(Mordren start to choke in Mazik’s grip)
Mazik: “Once you are dead…”
Qeld saw his chance and took it. 
Qeld (charging): “AAAA!”
He lurched forward snatching up the severed pipe as he slammed into Mazik thrusting his fist deep into the pliable168 flesh of the traitor’s belly. 
Mazik (moaning): “No….”
Mazik grimaced releasing Mordren who nevertheless retained his grip on Mazik’s arm, preventing him from turning to fend off Qeld. 
Mordren (groaning): “Face me! I will look in your eyes as you die!”
Mazik scrabbled169 attempting to pull away, but Qeld held firm, his fist buried deep inside the traitor’s guts, clutching the end of the pipe as it discharged more and more of the green mutating fluid into Mazik’s body. 
Mazik (gurgling): “Ahhhhh… No…. The beauty of my work… Can you not see it?”
Mazik swung his fist pounding the side of Qeld’s head again and again and again… Qeld felt warm blood trickling170 down the back of his neck. Everything was limbed and black. Yet still he held on pushing the pipe deeper, deeper until suddenly the pounding relented.
Qeld: “I see… only… the madness of a traitor replunge… I see only death”.
Stinging lights were dancing before Qeld’s eyes. He staggered back releasing his grip on the pipe, sliding his hand out with the sickening mulch of Mazik’s torso. Mutating fluid had done its work malforming Mazik’s already grotesque body until he could no longer maintain cohesion. Mazik’s left pauldron slid off taking a slurry171 of his upper torso with it. What remained of his belly was dribbling172 down his legs and his face was slowly sloughing away as he screamed revealing a yellowed skull beneath. Within moments he’d slid into a slowly moldering173 heap of jellied flesh and muscle, littered with the pieces of his ancient armor. Dizzy and no longer able to support his own weight Qeld tumbled to the ground with a thud. 
(Qeld collapses motionless)
Everything went black.
*  *  *
(battle still rages on)
Qeld came to with a start174. A cold breeze riffled175 his hair. He jerked up reaching for his bolter. Yet another’s hand stayed176 his own. His head hurt and one of his eyes was gone shut with blood. He twisted to see Mordren. He too was wounded, his chest-plate cracked, Dry blood caked177 across the side of his head, matted178 in his stark white hair. They were outside, their backs against the craggy179 mountainside. All around them the battle still raged but now the forces of the Raven Guard were pouring into the mountain fortress and the sky was alight with the burning trails of pitching Heldrakes. He’d been unconscious for some time. 
Mordren: “You saved my life. You have my thanks”.
Qeld eyed him warily180.
Qeld: “Likewise”.
They sat for a moment in silence. 
Qeld: “Illith and Artarix?”
Mordren: “Inside the fortress, guiding Koryn’s forces”.
Qeld nodded. Then they’d all survived. Further down the mountainside a growing force of cultists had clambered out of a crevasse181 in the rock face and was escaping the carnage above, skittering182 over the rocks. Qeld felt Mordren’s stare. 
Mordren: “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”
Qeld grinned. He reached for his weapon, slowly getting to his feet. 
Qeld (smiling): “Aye… brother. I believe I am”.
Mordren: “For Corax?”
Qeld: “For Corax!”