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Karian Icefang     Fenris. Home of the Space Wolves. In the midst of the yearlong winter, the Wolf Lord Karian Icefang has vanished. Walking towards the now frozen lake in which the mighty Kraken was currently waiting for the thaw. At least...that was what the last sighting reported. It has been at least 3 full days since anyone has seen Karian, and while his men trust him, his mental state was of concern. So much so that Lokir, one of Karian's wolfguard has reached out for aid in finding his friend and battle-brother. Matters in the fang prevented him from actively searching, but he would supply any of the Paladins that arrived with gear to survive the frozen wasteland they called home.
Rhongomyniad     The frozen Deathworld of Fenris. Yes, a world not unlike certain regions of the Other Side Of The World, of which the goddess Rhongomyniad is well acquainted. All who strides through the more civilized sector of the city is a figure in ancient, shining armor with a helmet shaped like the head of a lion, clad in a thick fur-lined white mantle. She accepted the information that the Wolfguard had to offer, but declined the equipment.

    Despite the clearly smaller stature amidst towering Space Marines, the Lion King exudes that unmistakable aura of confidence and charisma. Clearly someone who knows what they're doing. Maybe someone to follow-- were it not for pre-existing obligations to the Emperor of Man. Someone who needs no escort, even on a world as lethal as Fenris.

    From then until now, it is this lone figure who crosses the frozen lake next. Despite the poor footing, her steps are confident and steady, the Divine Lance casting a holy radiance around her through the cracks in its braided metal sheathing.
Karian Icefang     From all around, the mighty Lion King might feel eyes upon her, and on occasion hear the howls of Fenrisian wolves out on the hunt. But these creatures were wise enough to know not to make a move, somehow sensing they would be no match. Rather, these wolves seemed to be guiding the king, acting as both guardian and guide. Sure enough, near the center of the massive lake she would see him. The Wolf Lord was currently knelt down, his massive greatsword impaled in the ground in a manner similar to knights, with him seemingly in prayer. Along his armor are clear signs of frost, hinting he had been there a long time.
    The keen senses of Karian pick up on his guest, but he doesn't make a move to greet them. Instead, he had no reaction. Wether this was due to his mental state, or perhaps the state of his form literally being frozen over was up for debate at the moment.
Rhongomyniad     The Tower that Shines at the End of the World does not make her approach subtle. There is little subtle about a plate-clad Knight, in the first place, and she has little use for subtlety besides. She does not stop until she is beside the colossal Marine. Here, she lifts her left hand, drawing her own sword-- An unnamed, functional, and elaborate piece-- and drives it into the ice before her to form a cross not unlike a gravestone header. She then steps past it, turns, and stands before the Marine.

    The Lion King still clasps the Divine Lance in her right hand, holy light seeping through the narrow gaps in the braided metal sheath. Wind teases her mantle, dusts snow from the horizontal edges and surfaces of her shining armor, rustles through the stark white mane on the back of her lion's head helmet.

    But she says nothing.
Mortimer Balman      There's one howl in the distance that's much louder, much *larger*, than the others, that Rhongomyniad will hear. This one is.. Different from the rest, in some fashion. Gentler, yet far more powerful. It comes from over the hills in the distance, answering the other howls- hard to tell if it's a threat or a greeting, though. The mighty Lion King can see in the distance, where snowfog limits vision, coming over a hill. A massive silhouette that speaks of a truly monstrous specimen of Fenrisian Thunderwolf. And it is heading in her direction.

     If she squints against the cold, she might almost make out a figure riding on top of it..
Karian Icefang     That howl was one Karian recognized. Ulbrecht..and he knew where the wolf was, his master was sure to follow. But did Karian have it in him to face his oldest friend, the Salamander, like this? Could he allow himself to be seen this way? At last, the form of the wolf lord moves, layers of ice and frost shifting off of him as he rises. "I see my brothers have sent for aid to find me." He says, his sword still implanted in the ground. He casts a quick glance to the side, away from the Lion Knight and the direction Mort was coming from. "...But do I deserve such loyalty...after my failure..." He says.
Rhongomyniad     "Mmm," that thoughtful noise eminates from the Lion King, "My coming was of my own decision." Reaching with her free hand, she removes the helmet, then discards it into the Lance where it disappears. Like this, blonde hair teased by the wind, she fixes those endlessly deep emerald eyes on the Wolflord. In the blizzard-dimmed light, those eyes clearly glow with her inner Divinity.

    "You know who I am, Wolflord Icefang, do you not? I have come not to retrieve you, but to relate to you the wisdom of which I believe shall be of use to you."

    The howl is noted. The approach of a great beast is known. Her hand tightens on the hilt of the Lance, but when she raises it, it is merely into a different upward-pointed at-ease position. Not into a position that could threaten the approaching dire wolf. The others had avoided her. That this one approaches has meaning, but that meaning is likely not to attack.

    "What you choose to do with this wisdom I offer is your decision. As shall be your return. To force you would be UnJust, something I am incapable of."
Mortimer Balman      It is indeed Ulbrecht, the colossal wolf-beast stops a few paces from Karian and lays on the ground, putting his head in the snow and watching both the Jarl and the King. His tail begins to wag, which kicks up no small amount of snow- fortunately not atop either of them. But he seems friendly enough.

     And on top of the beast is Mortimer, sliding off and onto the ground. Snow melts around him in a wide radius, as he gives off a substantial amount of heat. The old badger is smoking a hand-carved pipe of intricate design and the smoke has a pleasant apple scent to it. "Hard man ta find, when ya wish to be, little brother. And.. Huhn." He pauses, crooked ears flickering at Rhongo, as if straining at her voice.

     "Rhongomyniad, then. ...What strange eyes to see, on a human.." He's one to talk, with those blood red eyes. "Thank ya fer lookin' for him... Bright-Silver King." He bows his head in her direction, and then quiets so she can say whatever it is she claims to be here to say.
Karian Icefang     Karian keeps looking off into the distance away from the pair. "...Because I do not wish to be found. Not when everything I have done is for naught now...now that I have failed." He says. It would be clear to both he has suffered a massive emotional overload, and despite all of his enhancements, his training and everything else, his mind was not built for this.
Rhongomyniad     "Mm," Rhongomyniad makes another of those thoughtful noises. Her head turns towards Mortimer, giving him a good look at the divinity behind those eyes, "Your arrival is unexpected, but not unwelcome." She shifts, raising the Divine Lance to point skyward. There's a rumble beneath the ice, before a series of stone walls breaks through and extend towards the sky. At a certain point, the walls cease and a ceiling builds its way to the center. Bricks shift, a door to the outside sliding up into place. The floor, as well, overturns itself into stonework, save the patch into which both swords are driven. All in a fashion that does not disrupt the three figures and colossal wolf standing on it. Torches alight. A hearth forms, then erupts into flames.

    The Divine Lance is lowered, then, the glow from within unchanged from before.

    "Allow me to share with you both a story," She leans back, a throne rising from the floor for her to rest upon, "Hundreds of years in my past, I encountered a peasant girl who belonged to no family. With no past, she struggled in the present, and had no future." Her eyes close for a moment, then open, "I once encountered a human King whose kingdom united the lands in peace. Whose son sought to slay him out of bitterness. A king who, as he lay bleeding from his wounds, bid one final request to his most trusted Knight. A knight who, out of regret and remorse, could not fulfill the request that would result in the death of his beloved ruler." Eyes close once more. Opening, she continues, "Of a ruler who, on the verge of death, instead arose as a god who embodies the ideals which she endeavored to inspire in others."

    Shifting, Rhongomyniad places one of her gauntlet-clad hands over the other, "Wolflord Icefang, Mortimer Balman, what make you of these tales?"
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer watches and sniffs at the air a bit as the magical construct builds itself about them. ".../Cool/. I didn't know you were a wizard, Rhongomyniad." He sits on one of Ulbrecht's paws and continues to smoke, listening to Rhongo speak her stories. "Mmm.. Reminds me of other tales of my world's history. I will assume that at least one of those figures however, is you. Perhaps several?" He tilts his head a bit. "You'll forgive me I hope, that I'm still somewhat unfamiliar with yer legends. There are /many/."
Karian Icefang     Karian is quiet for that, pondering. "...Why? Why are you trying to help me? I don't see what good it will do." He says, turning to walk away a bit. "My fate will not change. The Imperium's fate will not change...I failed to bring the Emperor back...I let his son die a second time. I...failed everyone."
Rhongomyniad     Rhongomyniad's eyes narrow slightly, "Because you and I are the same. Each, created with a specific purpose. A specific destiny." Her head turns towards Mortimer, "You are correct. The peasant girl was Artoria Pendragon. The king, Artoria Pendragon. The god, Artoria Pendragon. She who stands before you, Goddess Rhongomyniad, The Tower that Stands at the End of the World."

    She rises to her feet once more, seeming to tower over Karian despite the size difference between them. It's that Kingly Charisma at work, and her tone pushes that authority into her voice.

    "The goddess who stands before you began life as an orphaned peasant girl with no future. Only through perseverence did the path lead to that which stands before you, as solid as the truth. My failures have been many, and severe. My sacrifices have included my own life, and yet the goddess of Chivalry yet stands."

    A hand raises, parting her mantle, palm held upward towards the Wolflord, "No matter your origins, Man is ever in control of his own destiny," Her fingers curl slightly, and then her palm flattens out once more, "One effort may have failed. But a battle is but one of many upon the campaign that is your life. See it through to the conclusion you desire, for I know you have the conviction to do so."
Mortimer Balman      After Rhongo has finished her piece, Mort will stand as well. He can't stand as tall as she does, despite the fact that he is taller than her. In fact, he almost looks.. Smaller. He looks like a tired old man, slowly walking over to Karian.. And then smacking him upside the head. A frown comes over his face as he does this.

     "Sanguinius was always dead. You didn't get him re-killed, he was never truly alive- merely a spirit summoned for this fool's game they call the Grail War. What does your failure change? /Nothing/. The Emperor is still alive. He suffers, but he suffers for you. For every man, woman, and child in the Imperium. You are merely back to square one.. Like everyone else, who has spent the last ten thousand years debating on how to resurrect Him." He shakes his head with a sigh. "...You will not win every battle you go into, Karian. You know this. But you have survived the Grail War- you *still live.* That means you can still *fight.* You can still serve your God. The only failure, would be if this experience has taught you nothing, yes?"
Karian Icefang     Karian takes the hit, but does nothing about it. "Living...is that what you call it, Mort? Is that what you call sacrificing ten thousand or more psykers every day just to make sure he isn't lost to the warp? To know that no matter what you do, you will never see that day when he walks again? To.." Karian started, only to stop himself. He looks over Mort and Rhon, shaking his head. "Sanguinius, even if he was already dead, was a Primarch. A God in his own right. Compared to him...what could I do? What can a mere soldier do compared to a god?"
Rhongomyniad     "Compared to the god you see before you, what is a young peasant girl to do?" Rhongomyniad responds, her voice even. Her hand recedes, the mantle closing back around her, "Strive. Struggle. Fight. Cast away your doubt and embody your conviction. If the Gods have failed, than become a new God and do what they could not."

    Her head inclines, casting those glowing green eyes into shadow, "That you are but a soldier is no barrier to you, Wolflord Karian. If a peasant girl can arise to become the Tower that Stands at the End of the World-- than you are more than capable of rising to a Primarch. What dwells within you is a naescent King of Fangs, merely awaiting the opportunity to come forth."
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer waves a hand dismissively. "Primarchs are, from my understanding, not even remotely deific. They were Men- demigodal at most, but Men nonetheless. And yes.. I DO call that living. The Emperor Protects is not merely some idle, empty platitude." Mortimer's eyes change- the sclera turns black as pitch, seeming to draw in light as if it was Vanta. "Rhongomyniad may not have a full and clear understanding of how this galaxy of yours works, but I can see far more than she can. Every psyker who dies for the Emperor, dies for the Imperium. There are few things that may compare to the nobility of giving your life, so that others may persist."

     Mort's voice takes on an unnatural, hollow echo- distant, yet right next to the ear. Now it is his turn to stand tall, but unlike Rhongo he is not a divine being. He has been touched by the energies of Death itself, and the flames around his head flare out to make him look monstrous indeed. "What can one man do? One man can spit in the face of all dark gods and their teeming throngs of the Damned and Wretched, one man can lift a weapon and defend the lands, the people, and the faith that he loves." He leans down to stare Karian in the eye, the red iris pulsing like a vein that's about to start bleeding. "So long as one Man who believes in justice stands, as long as one Woman who knows the value of Good resists- the relentless march of Evil is thwarted."
Karian Icefang     Karian blinks as both Rhon and Mort speak, and something in him hears it. He looks over, his eye no longer filled with sorrow, but with a fire. They had managed to re-ignite the warrior spirit within Karian that had been diminished. "...You are right, both of you." He says, walking over and prying the greatsword from the ice. Somehow, perhaps it was a trick of the eye, but the blade seemed to suddenly have a gold heue. "...This malaise that has fallen on me is unbecoming. If the Primarch's fall, then it is the duty of their sons to be greater. The Imperium cries out for heroes, for those who will face the very depths of hell. We must not live to aspire to be like the Primarchs, but we must aspire to be greater then them. Thank you both for making me see this. The loss of Sanguinius, even if he was already done, shook me....much as it had to have done to his own sons so many millenia ago." He says, hefting the blade to his back like it was nothing. But as he does so, a golden light appears from where the blade was driven. From it emerges something strange...an egg, one that looked like it may be draconic in origin. Karian picks it up, and cradles it. A glance to Mort, then to Rhon, and he nods. "Let us return to the Aett. We have an Imperium to save."
Rhongomyniad     "Mmm," that thoughtful noise escapes Rhongomyniad's lips once more. Her free hand extends, producing her helmet from within the Lance. It is summarily placed upon her head. The keep's ceiling recedes, and then the walls sink back down whence they came-- not even leaving gaps in the ice where they had come up through. Merely a portion of the Divine Lance, unfurled as a temporary shelter.

    "Now you understand that which drives a King."
Mortimer Balman      Mort's eyes and voice return to their normal state. Well, the new normal, at least. And he goes and climbs back up onto his wolf's neck. "I am not a kingly sort, so I won't pretend I fully understand it.. ...But I see in your eyes, Rhongomyniad, a fire that is familiar. A fire like my elder brother's.. ...I miss that fire.. Yes, the fire that can turn a commoner into a King.." He looks and sounds old again. Tired. A man who's seen entirely too much over far too long of a lifetime. "The Aett will certainly be better than this weather. My bones are aching.."
Karian Icefang     "Aye. Though Mort...what do you make of this?" Karian asks, showing the egg to Mort. He then notices something on the horizon, and grips his sword again. "That scent...Wulfen. I did not think them this far out." He says. Sure enough, Astartes sized wolf creatures emerge from the apparent white-out conditions.
Rhongomyniad     No sooner is Karian reaching for his sword that the goddess Rhongomyniad is already raising the Divine Lance overhead. The clouds overhead roil, golden light shining through them in places. The braided metal sheath surrounding the Lance unfurls itself, dissolving into particles, unveiling the core of the sacred relic: A beam of pure, divine light that might be hard to look at for Mortimer.

    It's the same light that pierces the clouds overhead, as if a larger version of the same weapon were up there, waiting to be called down upon the enemies of the Lion King.

    From space, all looks normal, though the Psykers might be agitated, the signature is nothing like Chaos.

    "This world of death at last shows its fangs to the King of Knights. Previously, the creatures avoided me. It seems as though they have come around on this decision. And so I shall show my fangs in turn."
Mortimer Balman      Mortimer quietly puffs on his pipe some more, then looks down at Rhongo and Karian. "They look like Blood Claws who failed to control the Beast within.. ....Poor children, lost to madness forever.." It clearly weighs on him. "You two should leave this to me.. ...Not because you can't handle it, of course. But because once they have your scents, and realize what you are, they will likely try to escape. Me, they'll simply see as prey..." He sounds rather sad, as he says all this. "I will put them out of their misery, and return their geneseed to the Fang should it be viable."
Karian Icefang     Karian was about to leap into battle when Mort spoke up. He nods and motions towards Rhon. "Let us leave this to Mort." The Fallen Blood Claws look between Karian, recognizing the armor and the scent. But to mort, the start to cirlce, each one snarling and eager for the taste and thrill of the kill. The apparent Alpha moves first, leaping towards Mort.
Rhongomyniad     Rhongomyniad pauses when Mortimer announces his plan and Karian backs it. After a moment, she lets out a thoughtful noise and lowers the Divine Lance. The skies calm slightly, but the divine glow is still there, waiting to be called upon. Her tone remains even when she finally speaks, "As you wish."
Mortimer Balman      Mort slips off of Ulbrecht's neck again and motions him back, just in time to be tackled by the alpha Wulfen. But the creature will find that despite his apparent age and weakness, Mortimer is more than strong enough to throw him off. Right onto the frozen lake, where it should slide away for a few dozen meters. By the time it gets back up, Mort will be slowly walking onto the ice himself. Letting them surround him...

     "Praise the Wisdom of the Blade, for it knows no Prejudice; strip away all craven impurities, and behold the Truth." Wraithly energies fly around him, kicking up snow into a small blizzard as he intones his strange incantation. Geometric symbols form en masse around the ice, carving themselves into it. They glow with an energy that is simultaneously bright and dark, some sort of shadow-flame that threatens to drown the atmosphere in a malefic presence that can only be thought of as the chill of the grave.

     "To wield a Sword is a Curse." His eyes flash black again, and the vortex of ghost-fire swarms around him, covering him like the Reaper's own shroud. All that can be seen of the old man by this point are two glowing points of red where his eyes might be. The wind is blowing fiercely now. The flames begin to twist here and there, becoming like parodies of human faces- screaming, laughing, weeping, cursing- disappearing as fast as they can appear.

     The raging inferno builds upwards and becomes a tower, which collapses not unlike a waterfall and spills all around and over the Wulfen, with supernatural speed, threatening to drown them in a miasma that flashes with memories of Conflict. "Sacred Truths of War: Guillotine Saint's Wrath!" Flashes of steel are seen from within the burning mass, and sprays of blood that turn the ice red and slick..
Karian Icefang     Within moment's it was over. The Wulfen all fall quickly to Mort's power, and each had a viable geneseed. Karian watches Mort unleash some kind of psyker ability, but keeps it quiet. "Come...let's all get home." He says simply, leading the way.