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I'm just gonna make a list. It's long and I have a lot to say on the various topics. This is in no particular order. Yes, some of these have been beaten to death.
Art Style
The art style changed too much. Diablo 1 and 2 had an iconic gritty, semi-realistic style. I'm not a graphic artist and have only a limited art vocabulary to explain why Diablo 1/2 and 3 look so drastically different but a lot of the fan edits don't totally do it for me. All of Blizzard's games (except Diablo) since Warcraft 3 have a similar art style and given that Diablo started out on a different footing, it was at first jarring. Blizzard should know a thing or two about brand identity. I can only assume they changed the art style because it's the same style all their other games have. The most I can say is that coloration and gradients often look very smooth in Blizzard games and Diablo 1 and 2 don't have that.
- Midnight Rarity Chapter 4. I watched as the He Wolf entered the edge of the woods. He seemed to look anxious as he looked behind him to make sure there was no one there. He moved a little deeper into the woods before vanishing.
- Provocation is the 3rd area available for questing in Castle Age: Heart of Darkness. Main Quest 1: Into The Forest As Vampire Reinforcements begin to pour into the city, the hunters create enough of a diversion for you to escape into the deep woods.
- Don't sell the gun. Take it out in the woods and think of your Grandpa when you carry it. The.300 Savage cartridge will drop anything on the North American Continent (and has) if you do your part. Its ballistics are what I would call a 'mild'.30-06, and with handloading, you can match a.308 easily (and the 760 is strong enough to take it).
Character Development
It's easy to see the big ass difference in Diablo 3 when it comes to player decision-making. Diablo 3 automatically assigns stat points on level-up, whereas Diablo 1 and 2 let you pick. Diablo 3 automatically grants you all skills as you level-up. Diablo 1 randomizes skill selection as book drops and you may not get what you want. Diablo 2 asks you to make trade-offs.
You have a large amount of choice when it comes to character development in Diablo 2 and comparatively little, with just item selection, in Diablo 3.
Whether these choices are effectively meaningless has been debated to death. There are clearly bad skill tree choices in Diablo 2 (putting any points at all into Blaze) and there are clearly bad choices to make about stat allocation (putting all points into Strength for a Sorc).
In my opinion, yes, they're meaningless but grant some meaning to your character. Diablo 3 tried to add this back but did so in a way still distinctly Blizzard Not-North: the choices you make with the Paragon system don't matter because 1) you can change the allocation at any time and 2) by level 800 the choices you made on tabs 2-4 don't matter.
In the end, I really can't explain this one. I know it's there, I know for some reason I want it back, I know the reasons most games now probably don't do this anymore (simplification?). And yet it still comes up in discussions in 2018 about why someone might like Diablo 2 more. For some stupid reason, having a hand in your character's growth matters, even if the choices are pointless. Some kind of skill tree is probably more important than stat point allocation, unless Blizzard can come up with some kind of exciting way to make stat points per level matter, like how Divinity: Original Sin makes its allocation points heavily affect your character.
That said, as an side, D:OS has pretty amazing character development and per-level 'stat point' allocation that matters. You can change it at any time in D:OS2 but it's semi-permanent because 1) it's a long trek back and 2) those skill books are $$$ until late game. Try this game if you want to see what good stat point allocation can look like.
Permanence
Go play a Final Fantasy game. Square-Enix is notorious for permanent decisions, especially in the later games, that can mess you up or help you out a great deal. I remember making doing some crap with skill crafting in LR:FF13 and cursing and praising Square at the same time. At the same time I was a thinking: 'there's no way in hell Blizzard would ever do this.' I also thought, yeah, it gives FF13 some kind of charm that a Blizzard idea of this game would be lacking. Permanence is obviously closely tied to character development because while I was making permanent choices in FF13, I was making choices about my character's growth.
There is no permanence in Diablo 3. Again, Diablo 3 has a different point of view when it comes to player decision making: Diablo 1 and 2 let you choose your stat point allocation, and thus lets you screw up a character and Diablo 2 also includes a skill tree, which also lets you screw up a character. Also in both games, your skill use is built as you go (books in D1 and tree in D2) whereas in D3, it's handed to you as you reach 70, with 1-69 treated as a tutorial.
The point of permanence is that, while items in Diablo 2 were maybe half of a build, in Diablo 3 they are the entire build. A bad item is not a permanent decision. A bad character means you need to start from scratch. (Most people will tell you that you can bring a Diablo 2 character from 1 to, say, 60 pretty fast but it still takes time.) You don't need to worry about committing to a decision in Diablo 3 and can keep all the items you find for all builds on one character. Games are all about making decisions you find fun and you if you read a lot of Blizzard's posts, blogs, etc. on making WoW (most relevant Blizz game to Diablo), you can see a lot of their reasoning on decisions has to do with player choice: what's a fun choice and what's not a fun choice. If you take away a decision, you may very well have taken away some of the fun. Not having a decision be permanent? Hm.
Diablo 1's skill system of books means you don't need to worry about correcting mistakes, you just need to wait. Diablo 2's skill system of trees means you need to make permanent trade-offs, giving more weight to the decisions you made and creating meaningful 'builds'. Diablo 1 had no real 'builds' as there were no items that had anything skill-specific and books were easily bought/found. Diablo 2 had builds because of skill trees but items were generic enough, with some specific items having important +skill bonuses. Diablo 3 technically has builds in that your skills are easily changeable but your items are the entire build, which are also changeable. In Diablo 2, your character is the build with items being disposable (at least, you can always move items from one char to another). Once you have an item, you still need to commit to making another character to use it. In Diablo 3, once you have all classes to 70, you can try all builds.
There is no permanence in Diablo 3 because there is no character development and items are easily changed (if not easily found).
Item Use
I'd be lying to all of you beautiful people if I said Diablo was not a game about finding items but if you replay Diablo 1 (go on, do it) and really pay attention to how you interact with items, you aren't dumping 90% of what drops like you are in a typical Diablo 3 rift. Books are useful. Scrolls can be useful. Potions are pretty useful.
Yeah, a fair portion of the items that drop are bad but it's fair to say that if you open up a chest in Diablo 1, it may pop out with something useful. In Diablo 3, that same chest is just going to flood your screen with gray items and some Kulle-Aid. This ties into...
Itemization -Power Balance
Where's your power come from in Diablo 3? If you answered anything other than 'my items!' you're a dirty liar.
Where does your power come from in Diablo 1 and 2? Kinda depends on your class. Spellcasters wouldn't be dead in the water without their items. Diablo 2 doesn't even attach damage the main stat used by spellcasters: energy just provides more mana. A barbarian might be kind of screwed due to a reliance on weapon damage. Where does your power come from in Divinity: Original Sin? It's kinda split. But back to Diablo 3. It moves all character development off the character and onto the items. I think we can guess the point was to remove permanence, which was seen as a bad thing since, after all, Diablo 2 eventually added respeccing.
The fact that all your character's power rests with the items really just means there's no character development and leveling up isn't as fun because there's really little increase in power, aside from any new skills you get, since skills don't get much stronger on level up compared to getting a new item.
Diablo 1 and 2 pretty much left stat increases to leveling up. Diablo 3 obviously puts that gain heavily onto items.
Itemization - Power Growth
And with that, how about the items themselves? There's a cap on power growth in Diablo 2. '+2 to All Skills' is the top dog when it comes to damage, and it only has to compete with '+1 to All Skills' or '+X to Mana' or '+I Don't Remember What Diablo 2's Mana Regen Affix Looked Like'. None of those are multiplicative and if I remember right, most of the Diablo 2 skills grew almost linearly in damage. (Fireball has a jump at level 9 but grows pretty linearly again all the way to max.) So, Diablo 2 didn't have exponential power growth. Diablo 1 had almost no power growth. That just leaves Diablo 3.
This exponential power growth means the standard Normal, Nightmare, Hell difficulty setup doesn't work because a few items and you can one-shot Diablo. Turns out CHC and CHD scales pretty quickly. Diablo 3 used to only have 4 difficulty levels and now we have 13.
Itemization - Stat Range
That brings me to one of my biggest gripes with Diablo 3's itemization: the ridiculous range of some stats. Some Diablo 2 items had way more affixes on a single item. Diablo 3, mercifully, has less but those that remain have an amazingly large variation. Not only do you need the perfect 3 affixes and socket but you also need the available range to be good. Finding the exact same item with just a bigger number is an upgrade but as some people might agree this is not a fun upgrade to get. Being stuck with a rare level 61 amulet with 100% CHC, 50% CHD, +300 stat and CDR, with the CHC having been enchanted until you find a legendary 70 one with the same properties but +500 stat is just as unfun. And it's so damn common.
I wonder if Blizzard realized this, which gave way to the introduction of ancient primals as a band-aid for the massive stat range, since no drastic changes can (or at least, should) be done to itemization without Diablo 4. And we'll say no more about that.
Itemization - Customization
Runes were fun. They ultimately functioned as a piecemeal way to build an item if you couldn't get that one rare you liked. And because you could upgrade lower level ones, you could progress even if you kept getting Eld.
I feel like Diablo 3 dropped the ball on this. Runes provided some random item customization early on, until the point where you collected enough good ones and could make a runeword item. Dol Eld Hel Ist Tir Vex, baby!
If I remember right, the reason Blizzard gave for their removal in their direct Diablo 2 implementation was that you had to look them up on the Internet: breaking you out of the game was a no-no. Relying on a third party feels weird from a developer and player perspective.
(And yet, some other RPGs heavily rely on collective player discovery, like Final Fantasy or D:OS's crafting system. In D:OS, you could just craft an item, whether you discovered the recipe in-game or not.)
I get it. That makes sense. Needing two monitors just to do crafting is weird. I wonder how many casual players knew Silence even existed. But there has to be some happy medium. After all, Diablo 3 has a gigantic item crafting system that lists all the valid recipes that no one uses and could be bent towards runeword creation.
Gameplay
I lied. I really don't have anything bad to say about this. My business is killing demons and business is good. Combat flows pretty cool.
But there is one big difference in gameplay between all of the games: combat pacing.
Diablo 1's combat pacing is a lot slower. You can die pretty easily so there's no jumping around. Every corner you turn should be pretty deliberate. A screen full of monsters is usually over pretty fast, especially as the sorcerer. Even then, you want to split them up as a hail of arrows coming at you hurts. And sometimes, even surviving a string of hits still means you're stunlocked in place and dead anyway. Getting hit in Diablo 1 is bad, much worse than the other two games. I'm playing Diablo 1 kinda as I'm writing this as a sorcerer and when I come upon a pack of monsters, I'm literally spamming Chain Lighting to kill them all as fast as possible, mana conservation be damned because their hits take more out of my mana pool than my spell casts (Mana Shield). Or else I'm running away madly while spamming Guardian and chugging mana potions.
Diablo 2 sort of lowers that risk with the ability to regen health in combat by 'Life on Hit', and throws a screen full of monsters at you way more often. On the flip side, you die quick if you stop hitting but you have some movement abilities to get out of tight spots.
In Diablo 3, if you aren't facing a screen full of monsters then you just aren't having any fun! Aside from being able to take damage like a boss, there's a ton of mitigation options, straight up '*claps* NOPE, I'M OUT' options and abilities that will literally bring you back to life if you die. Getting hit by literally a dozen monsters at once is no challenge, so long as your health pool can survive it. It takes out a lot of the danger and tension -- and speeds up combat -- monsters have from the earlier games.
Somehow in the transition from Diablo 2 to 3, a screen full of monsters became expected, whereas big packs of monsters was a death sentence in Diablo 1 and a flashing caution sign in Diablo 2. It's really just a way of life in Diablo 3. There's pages of people talking about jumping ship in GRs if they don't have the right density.
That said, let's jump back to Diablo 3's release. Blizzard was totally right when Diablo 3 first came out: people were expecting more monsters than the game ever threw at you at first: Blizzard showed videos that Diablo 2 really didn't often toss that many monsters at you but somehow, it felt like fighting only a few guys at a time in Diablo 3 was boring and slow. I wonder if it's because the risk of dying is a lot lower in Diablo 3 even with that many more monsters, and you can only regen health with globes, since your one health 'potion' is on a large cooldown. The end result: combat pacing in Diablo 3 was just so much faster than Diablo 2 and so fighting only a few guys at a time was (and still is) boring. In Diablo 1 and 2, you can go from 1 HP to full in one push, several times a second if you have to but the combat pace was generally slower and so fighting less monsters at once was necessary. (Since when you did fight more, at least as a Sorcerer, they all died pretty quickly. Because if they didn't, you did.)
Music
Matt Uelmen. If you live under a rock, this was the person who made the music for Diablo 1 and 2. If I remember the story right, he pestered Blizzard North with samples until they finally caved.
Now, I don't mean to dump on Russell Brower, the lead composer (I believe) on Diablo 3 and WoW, but I haven't really been a fan of Blizzard music post-Warcraft 3. There were some memorable tracks from Warcraft 2 -- looking at you, 'Orc 1' and 'Orc 2' -- but the majority of music from their later games is heavily orchestral ambience, maybe?. This coming from a guy who likes Nightwish. But, just like my art vocabulary, I don't have one for music either. Diablo 1 had a lot of drums, maybe? The 'Harem' track from Act 2 in Diablo 2 is something you'd never find in Diablo 3.
Atmosphere
I'm not so much talking about the ambience in the game. It's still generally creepy.
As I understand it one of Blizzard's core tenants in games now is 'the hero!' The character you play has to feel strong and heroic -- and by extension, have no faults! -- and if I remember right, one of the gameplay pillars of Diablo 3 was something like 'lol overpowered' (paraphrasing).
The end result is what we have: we're one of the most powerful creatures in the world and we're just getting started. There's no stopping us. Personally, I'm a fan of the flawed or tragic hero, but that's something Blizzard has never really done for a main character. Kerrigan and Arthas came close but they weren't main characters and at this point I don't think Blizzard would let them be given the focus on the hero archetype. Guys, would it kill you to have a main character with a dark past? Some personal drama/trauma?
Diablo 1 was definitely a classic gothic horror story. It was relatively small in scope, though there were obvious hints of a larger world, and pretty personal. Nearly all of the dialog supports it. One of my absolute favorite parts of Diablo 1 is the 'less is more' with respect to story and dialog. This was probably a consequence of the random nature of the game but it left a fair portion to the imagination.
Diablo 2 changed it a bit, mostly because it went more global and tried to have and tell a more cohesive and complete story. Diablo 3, however, just patted the prior games on the head, gave them their dolly and walked headlong into the sunset, pages of dialog fluttering in the wind. Yes, I speak of the Butterfly Princess Maghda.
The other end result is that, whereas in Diablo 1 you're definitely 'trapped in there with the monsters' and for the most part so it is in Diablo 2, in Diablo 3 it's definitely 'you're trapped in here with me!' Generally speaking, I'm okay with the 'you're trapped in here with me'. See: Doom 2016. But the gothic horror fantasy introduced with Diablo 1 and sort of carried with Diablo 2 is completely lost in Diablo 3.
That said, this kind of supports the combat pacing.
An Aside on Adria
And, come on, I also speak of the cliche shit y'all pulled with Adria. I don't like to directly dump on people but here it is: you could have done so much better by Adria. Make her something altogether more ancient than Cain. Or a high-level demon from the armies of Hell turned human. Introduce an evil older than Diablo that she knows about but Cain doesn't. Make her the one with the traumatic past. Have her try to divine future events. Could have used her to add foreshadowing. Make her the one to kill Cain, but on accident. This way she can be super helpful for you in the beginning but then powerless as she feels guilty for Cain's death, but then at the end of the game she snaps out of it and sacrifices herself to help you! You could have even pulled a twist: make her out to be evil but turns out she's actually trying to help.
She was the speaks-in-riddles prophet archetype that everyone fears because they don't know much about her in Diablo 1. You could literally have gone anywhere with her story, and instead moved right into 'well I was evil from the start, haha, tricked you all!' I don't like this turn for Adria because it feels like the easy way out with her ambiguousness in Diablo 1 and the fact that no one really seemed to like her anyway. Of all the plot points in Diablo 3, this one bugged me by far the most. I'd have milked the shit out of her ambiguousness for dramatic tension with a reveal towards the end of Act 3. (Disclaimer: I'm as much a writer as I am an artist and musician.)
Sets
Eh. I find some of the set builds to be really bland. I'll never really be a fan of builds based on cooldown reduction because until you reach 100% uptime, there's periods of 'LOL KILL IT ALL TOP KEK TROLL FACE' and 'and I got a rock :('. The current setup of sets means you really have to choose one of the sets that most fits your playstyle and hope it's balanced well with the ones you don't like but are stronger. That ties into...
Power Growth Curve
Because of the limitless and exponential power growth in Diablo 3, there's no real point at which 'this much power is enough' like Diablo 1 and 2.
Lack of Game-Over
I'll keep this short. Hear me out: Diablo 1 you can actually 'finish' on a character. At some point, you're powerful enough in Hell mode to say 'I can breeze through'. The same can roughly be said of Diablo 2. Diablo 3, not so much. Once you beat GR 203, move on to GR 202! It's so much more fun than GR 201!
In all the complaints of Diablo 2, I rarely ever hear someone say 'this game needs a fourth difficulty'. Due to permanence and character development, playing Diablo 2 doesn't just mean playing one character forever, it means trying out different characters or builds. The lack of fulfillment I get eventually from GRs is that moving from GR5 to GR6 is the same as moving from GR505 to GR506: it's just numbers. Sure, ancient and primal items start to drop but they're exceedingly rare and no new gameplay is opened up around them.
Closing Thoughts
If I did a post on what Diablo 3 did right, it'd be the obvious things: gameplay, audio, art, balance. 'Bitch, you just said those were problems!' you cry. Yep.
Just because the art direction took a turn I didn't expect doesn't mean that what we have isn't any good. It's just what Blizzard's artists do, and regardless of the fact that it's 'not Diablo 2', it still looks fantastic.
I've never had any complaints about Blizzard's sound effects.
Contrary to popular opinion, WoW is a hard game to balance and Diablo 3 arguably has as many knobs to turn given the class count, ability count and item count.
Gameplay has been one of Blizzard's strengths, or they wouldn't be making games for 27 years. If I remember right, they basically studied Diablo 2 during Diablo 3's development but I think they missed the mark on one thing: Diablo 1 and 2 took after Roguelike games. Diablo 3 seems to have abandoned that ethos.
For a way more directed look at Diablo 2's design, here's a website/book/IDKwtf someone made: http://thegamedesignforum.com/features/RD_D2_1.html
What should Diablo 4 be? I think it should address some of the obvious shortcomings: the lack of no game-over, some of the itemization issues, the insane power creep and character development. I think it's a damn shame they never got to work on a second Diablo 3 expansion because I think they could have addressed a ton of the gameplay issues, even if it really takes a new title to fundamentally address them (such as the CHC/CHD scaling problem).
Chapter 9 (Part 1)
A Darkness in the Forest;
Or, Adam and Spike vs. the Dark Eldar
'You can sound the alarm, you can call all your guards,
You can fence in the yard, you can pull all the cards.
But I won't… back… down, oh no;
I won't… back… down, oh no.'
-'Won't Back Down', Eminem
'That night was the most fun I had in years.'- The Emperor, on the subject of the Ponyville Raid
'There's a reason why our kind won't go back without an entire army; Dragon Space-Marines. Let me repeat myself here; Dragon Space-Marines. Need I say more?' -Archon Bardock, sole surviving Kabalite of the Equestria War
Day 5 of Equestrian War
11:30 P.M.
Outskirts of Ponyville
Despite the war that raged across the planet, the town of Ponyville still slept peacefully under a starry -if explosion-filled- night. It was so tranquil that nopony bothered watching the Everfee Forest. Nopony watched the misty outskirts of the forest, or saw as tall, lanky figures began slowly creep their way out. The tiny village, which was in the center of Alliance-held territory, had no need of protection from Orks, and thus was completely defenseless for when the Dark Eldar came to town.
The cabal of thirty druchii snuck into the shadows of town, one of which noticed a peculiar white rabbit tapping on a nearby window. Faster than the blink of an eye, the vampiric alien drew a small pistol, firing a few monomolecular shurikens into the lapine's skull. No more Angel Bunny.
'Conserve your ammo, you witless worm!' The leader of the group hissed. 'There are Mon-Keighs around here, and we must be silent and swift.'
'I do not take orders from you, Casra Fel.' The soldier snapped back, putting his gun back in its holster. 'If I feel a need to kill something, I shall do so. I do as I please, not what the cousin of the Archon bids.'
'And you shall remember why we are here,' Archon Fel grabbed the rebellious druchii, pulling him close, 'Lest I cut off your head and send your soul to Slaneesh. Each and every one of us are being held as collateral by the gods themselves, and if we do not achieve this mission as promised, She Who Thirsts won't wait until we're dead to feast on us.'
The corrupted Eldar were silent. Not so long ago, a daemon had entered Cimorragh, the City of their kind. This was none other than Kairos Fateweaver himself, bearing word from the Ruinous Powers. In his strange, cryptic mode of speech, he told the various Archons and Kabals that the gods had a plan set in motion- a plan that, if successful, would guarantee endless pain and suffering for eons to come. This mission, this 'Ultimate Crusade', depended on the druchii helping the cause, as it were.
Now, while these parasites always loved angst and death, many Archons asked the obvious question: Why should they help them? After all, it was Slaneesh that destroyed their people, and was even now feasting on their souls. Kairos laughed, and told them, 'Should you refuse, The Prince of Pleasure himself will host his ultimate revelry in this city of yours, and send all his servants to 'collect his rightful payments'.'
For the first time in many of their nigh-eternal lives, the Fallen knew of fear. With much feigned humility and eagerness, the Archons accepted.
This particular kabal - The Stinging Whip- had been sent to Arcturus Primis, a planet inside the Eye of Terror, to 'link up' with a coven of Mon-Keigh sorcerers, a collective of Tzeentchian worshippers who had discovered a ritual that was as close to a Webway Portal as any human had ever achieved (outside the Anathema's wretched mockery back on Terra). They had been instructed by Eliphas, a mighty Chaos Champion under the Daemon Primarch Lorgar, to accompany the Kabal through the Webway, and to perform a Summoning Ritual once on the fated planet. It was grating for both sides to serve alongside the other, but when the gods ask for something, you disobey at your own risk.
Which brought the Raiders to this moment. They had been sent to this world- this sickeningly sweet, outline-based, wretched Maiden World called 'Eq-Westi-Rah'- to kill these creatures called 'Po-Neighs'. And to do that, the ritual required a particular kind of Po-Neigh… An Element-Bearer.
And it just so happened that one of the cultist psykers could detect such a being in this quaint little town.
'Do not ruin this for us, Kalahar Gorn.' Casra shoved the offending hunter, his eyes filled with hate. 'For if Slaneesh desires to eat us before we die, I'll make sure you're the first one he devours.'
Before the whelp could respond, the Kabal could hear a door creaking open. The hunters, their movements being beyond that of any human, made themselves invisible and silent- hiding on the roof, in the trees, by the very walls themselves- as two little Earth fillies came out.
'Don't be such a scaredy cat, Silver Spoon,' The pink one said, wearing a stupid (and obviously plastic) tiara and a sour look on her muzzle, 'There's nothing out here, obviously.'
'I dunno, Diamond Tiara,' The silver filly whispered, here eyes scanning left and right behind her glasses, 'I swear I could've heard knocking and voices. Maybe those Orks everyone's been talking about are here?'
'Don't be stupid. If there were Orks around here, they wouldn't just have a handful of guards to protect us. Its probably some poor drunk looking for a place to sleep. Stupid humans, thinking they're all that because they came from space.'
As she said that, one of the Kabalites leapt forward, his seven-foot frame landing right in front of the fillies. He blocked out the light from the other buildings in the village, casting an ominous shadow over the pair. They all stared at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to say something.
Tiara was the one to break the silence, scoffing, 'See, I told you it was one of those humans. Now, sir, I don't care which universe you came from, which superhero you go gaga for, or your 'Emprah' is banging both Princesses up the flanks, it doesn't give you the right to go get drunk and wake the entire town up with your shenanigans! Seriously, you humans can be such bastards!'
'Good thing I'm not one, then.' The giant growled. A whip cracked, a head rolled, a crown shattered. No more Diamond Tiara.
Silver Spoon, seeing her one and only friend get decapitated, promptly fainted, landing in the growing pool of blood. The druchii reached down to the unconscious filly, but then the Archon snapped, 'Leave it, Kalahar. We have work to do.' He turned to follow the tracking spell, heading to the tall circular building near the middle of town. The rest of the kabal followed, including the petulant Kalahar, muttering, 'I'm not a dog.'
Casra knew of Gorn's thing for younglings. Often times Dark Eldar would have their own fetishes, their victims of choice. Gorn had this thing for robbing innocence before killing them, seeing the look in their eyes, kinky stuff like that. But Casra didn't care if he liked children, corpses or Tyranid Genestealers; This night, they had a Po-Neigh to find, and a ritual to perform…
Meanwhile, in Rarity's Boutique, the alabaster fashionista was going through her nightly rituals under guarded supervision. While her friends had gone off to fight (or at least heal, in Fluttershy's case), Rarity had decided to stay behind to keep watch over everyone's siblings and property- namely Spike and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. She also wanted to keep an eye on both her shop and the military presence in town, as she knew enough from Equestrian history to fear that these allies may engage in looting.
But of course she was too much of a lady to say such a thing, especially with two such soldiers in her quarters.
'Area's secure, ma'am,' A human soldier reported- a UNSC marine, if she wasn't mistaken. He had been assigned to watch over her alongside one of the Kig-Yar Skirmishers during the nights. 'You can sleep safely tonight.'
'Why thank you, gentlemen,' Rarity nodded, her magic turning out the last few lights outside her room. 'I'll sleep soundly tonight knowing that I'm under your watchful eyes. Pray tell, how is the war faring?'
'The desert has been secured.' The Jackal told her, his voice so scratchy that it hurt her ears. 'The Orks have been contained to the coastal cities. Been digging in there real tight, but we'll pry 'em out.'
'Word over the comm is that the evacuation of the Crystal Empire is underway.' The human continued. 'ONI and Inquisitorial operatives are searching for something called 'The Crystal Heart', whatever that may be. And last I checked, your friends are still okay.'
'Oh, that's terrific, darling.' Rarity put in a few curlers in her hair, and trotted off to bed. 'I just wish I could be with them right now. Those outfits they have must be getting so… dirty.'
'*cough*cough* bitch *cough*cough*' The human covered his mouth.
'What was that?' Rarity raised an eyebrow.
'You're a coward.' The Jackal told her, ignoring the glare from his comrade. 'You sit here all pretty in your little 'fashion house' while your friends fight with everyone else. Even the yellow wimp is out with the troops, and she's a bigger pu-'
'Hey, dude, not cool.'
Into The Woods Of Belial Rarity Full
'What?'
'Don't make fun of Fluttershy. That's bad karma.'
'But she's a weakling.'
'Yeah, I know that, but you still shouldn't say that. 'Sides, at least she's mare enough to be out with all the big boys, while little miss priss here stays here and plays dress up.'
Rarity gasped, deeply offended. 'How DARE you! Get out of my house, you ruffians, impugning my honor as a lady like that!'
The soldiers made a hasty retreat outside, but Rarity could still hear the Kig-Yar say, 'At least none of the females in my race are that stuck-up.'
Oh, I've met your females, The unicorn thought angrily, Nothing but a rabble of whores and thieves. The Bearer of Generosity jumped into bed, and tried to force herself into sleep…
…
…
…
Several minutes later, she was awoken by the sounding metal hitting something, and a strange gagging sound. Rarity sat up in bed, her eyes adjusting to the darkness in her home. She could hear the sound of something dragging a heavy object around downstairs, probably messing up her pristine store.
I knew those brutes were looters, She thought angrily, jumping out of bed. I'll show them what happens when you mess with Rarity Belle Unicorn.
She rushed downstairs, looking around for the intruders. Surprisingly, she couldn't see anyone down there, in darkness or not. She then heard a knocking at the front door, a violent thumping that sounded like a battering ram.
'Corporal!' She shouted, thinking it was that pesky human, reaching for the door, 'If you think you can barge into here in the middle of the night and pillage my house like a common thug, then you have another thing co-'
As she opened the door, the body of the former marine fell in front of her. The head, arms, legs- in fact most of his body- fell off the corpse, spraying blood in every direction, including on Rarity's alabaster face. She yelped in shock, horrified by what lay in front of her.
She turned to go back to her room, but was blocked by a tall, armor-covered, most horribly disfigured creature she had ever seen. He gave a nasty, disgusting grin, showing all of his horrible fanged teeth.
'Ello, poppet.' He snarled. Rarity screamed, just before a big bag went over her head, and threw her world into darkness…
To say all was well in Adam's mind was to be a very bad - or very stupid - liar. Quite frankly, his little chat with Luna just left him feeling more confused and befuddled than before. He needed to take his mind off the ridiculous mare and his superfluous feelings. Something that warranted his attention more than the pesky Orks to the east.
His mind wandered, sensing around for any strange activity. His focused brushed past the strange anomaly of the Everfree Forest when he felt something… familiar. Something he hoped he wouldn't feel here for a long time.
Chaos.
Deep in the forest, right in the ruins of Equestria's original capital, a small covent of cultists had somehow gathered, prepping for a summoning ritual of some kind. He scanned them, and was again puzzled. Every one of them was either a psyker or a mutant, certainly not very strong or brave. There were no warriors here, not even as guards. Strange, as you would think that the Ruinous Powers would give them at least some fighters, if they were coming here to kill him.
It was then that he sensed another, darker presence closer to home. Right in the middle of Ponyville, to be exact. He moved his focus to town, and what he found was a rare, genuine surprise.
The bloody hell?!
On the edge of town, heading back into the forest, was a Kabal of Dark Eldar, one of them carrying a large, struggling sack. He could tell it was a pony by its size, and by the psychic screams of panic it was…
Son of a bitch, not Rarity!
The druchii had taken the worst possible pony for their 'fun'. Not only was it a guarantee that the unicorn was going to die in the most painful way imaginable, but when she finally did die, the rest of the Elements of Harmony would be rendered useless. His 'Ace in the Hole' would be gone, and Chaos would be free to send in a Black Crusade on a still unprepared world.
He needed to get her back. Alas, his body was too far away, and he was in no shape to move anyway. He had to tell someone in the village, to warn them, and get them to save the Bearer of Generosity before she got BDSM'd to death.
But who? The towns ponies were next to useless, now just a populace of old folks and foals. There weren't any of his men at Fluttershy Base- That's what they nicknamed the place now. He couldn't send one of the CAR or UNSC troopers after Rarity- odds were that they didn't know what they were up against, or wouldn't give two shits about the whiny unicorn.
He could always 'hack' someone, but in order to work at full ability- which he'd need if he was going to fight a whole Kabal- he had to get them willingly, to accept being a puppet. They'd have to have combat training at minimum, and want to save Rarity more than anything. But who? Who could care for- nay, love- the fair Rarity?
…
…
…
Ohhh. He'll do just perfectly.
Meanwhile, in Twilight's Library, Spike was bored out of his mind as he finished closing up shop. Why was he stuck in this dank old tree-house while everypony else was out fighting big green monsters? It just didn't seem fair.
On one hand, since Rarity was here, he could justify it to himself that he was 'protecting' her. He knew that many of the soldiers ridiculed his love behind their back, saying that she was a coward for not fighting like their friends. But he knew her better than they did; He knew that she had an inner strength beneath that ladylike exterior. Fluttershy was more timid, but she went out to the field hospitals, because that was she felt she'd be most useful at. With Rarity, she felt that she needed to protect everyone's families, to protect their home in Ponyville - making sure that everypony had a home to come back to. It seemed ridiculous, but this was what she felt she had to do, and Spike was willing to help her any way he could.
On the other hand, he was dying for the chance to show off his new skills. N'tho had said that he had quickly picked up in two weeks what most apprentices take a year or more to learn. All the same, it was his opinion that he was still too small, too young and too inexperienced to go fight, so he- along with Twilight and Trixie- told him to stay put. He did as he was told, sure, but it grated him horribly that he was still being treated like a child, not allowed to fight for Equestria like everyone else.
He put the last broom in the closet, and went upstairs, considering what he should do for the rest of the night. It was past midnight, so he couldn't go hang with anyone.
Spike…
He had already read all the books in the library, and he had done two hours of required training with the Blade. But at the same time he didn't want to just head off to bed just yet.
OhhhSpiiike…
The dragon smiled at a new idea. Perhaps he could check out one of those new 'adult' magazines, like Playcolt, or Fornax. He was curious about what a human female looked like…
HARK, YE LICENTIOUS WYRM!
Spike yelped and fell to the floor, clutching his head. If that was a normal voice, that would've been loud enough to make him deaf. But it was a psychic signal, and it held enough force to it to feel like an ice cream headache at the base of his skull.
'Gah, what the hell?' He groaned, cradling his head. 'Who said that?'
I did, you prepubescent reptile. The voice responded, a lot quieter this time. It held an air of authority and power behind it, and Spike recognized that voice instantly.
'Wait, are you that Emperor guy the Imperials swear by all the time?' He asked.
Of course, young Spike, The god told him, And it is with great urgency that I call upon you.
'What? Why?' The dragon demanded nervously. 'Is Ponyville under attack?'
It was under attack, little warrior. Adam corrected. And our foes have taken a captive with them.
'WHAT?!' Spike exclaimed, both fearful and angry. Someone - some foul, disgusting creature from beyond the void - had come into his town, hurt his friends while under his watch? Not only was this an affront to his Dragon Code, but to his honor as warrior as N'tho had taught him.
It gets a little worse, I'm afraid. Adam continued. These foes are a sight more devious and dangerous than a mere rabble of Orks, and they've taken somepony that you value more than most.
Spike then received a vision of these tall, unnaturally thin creatures in bizarre armor making their way through what must've been the Everfree Forest. One of them had a large bag over his shoulder, and something inside it was squirming. He could hear the muffled screaming coming from it, and it sounded a lot like-
Spike clenched his fists at the revelation, as fear and fury ran through his veins. Without even a second thought, he ran to his bed in Twilight's room, and pulled out the hilt for the blade his Sanghelli teacher gave him.
Wait, what are you doing?
'What do you think I'm doing?' Spike snapped. 'I'm going to go rescue her. If you're coming to me for help, that either means that everyone else is dead, or no one is around. I'm the only person around who can kill these monsters and save Rarity, and that's what I'm going to do!'
Don't be a fool, young drake. Adam retorted. Those aren't mindless Orks or some rebel militiamen. Those were Dark Eldar- creatures of great speed, strength and sadism. They are creatures that can hold their own against the astartes, and have no concept of kindness or mercy. If they capture you, they will feed off your soul by raping you to death.
Spike stopped at the bottom of the stairs, the information registering in his mind. He then put the hilt into a 'pocket', and went for the door. 'I'm going to save her,' He said with finality, 'One way or another. I will not let her suffer that fate, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me. Not even you.'
Spike took one more step to the door, before he hit what felt like an invisible wall. He glared around angrily, as if to give the unseen deity a piece of his mind. Instead, he heard a good-natured chuckle.
That's what I was hoping you would say. The Emperor said proudly. You think yourself a warrior for spending some time training under a xeno. But being a warrior requires a state of mind and a set of unbreakable characteristics, like bravery. I always knew you had all the skills you'd need, being a dragon. Now you finally have a reason to demonstrate it.
There was a loud THUNK! outside the door, but the voice continued. On your own, even with your training, draconian biology and Me helping you out, you would surely perish. However, I happen to have something out there that just might even our odds.
Spike opened the door, and was graced by the shiny yellow and black radiance of an Imperial Fist Astartes suit. It towered over the little dragon, who stared back at it in awe. 'Whoa!' He declared, 'You brought a Marine with us?!'
Not quite. The armor was covered in an ethereal glow, as the suit went down to one knee. The breast plate glowed even more intensely as it creaked perfectly down the middle, opening up to reveal no one was inside.
This was an extra suit brought along from the Wrath, He continued, that I have teleported down here for our use. As we speak, I am modifying it so that it shall be easier for the both of us to use.
'But how are you doing all this?' The dragon asked. 'The suit weighs like a ton, and the armor's made of, like, adamantium or something.'
Spike, young drake, I am an all-powerful psyker further powered by the souls of billions of other psykers, able to directly and indirectly affect everything happening within a galaxy-wide civilization. I may be a corpse on a chair, but that does not mean I'm an Invalid. This is easy pickings for me. Now hop in.
Spike didn't have to be asked twice, and jumped right into the battle suit. The suit closed around him as he got into position. He then noticed that his arms and legs were far too short to reach the limbs, even though he could see that there were grips for longer arms and legs to reach and control. 'Are you planning on making me a bit greedy, so I can reach the controls?'
It's a bit more than that, I'm afraid. I may be able to help you out and even control your body, but in order for you to properly use the suit, you must be 'modified'- I must make you the closest thing to a Space Marine that can be done without a surgery.
He paused, considering the words he was about to say very carefully. I will not lie to you, Spike. This will be the worst pain that you've ever felt in your life. You will not die - I'll take the necessary precautions to keep you alive - but you won't be the same dragon when you come out. The process of becoming an Astartes is one that can't be taken lightly, and this is something I can't make you do, only ask.
Spike simply closed his eyes. He sometimes wondered if he was cut out to be a warrior, like other dragons of the past. When he compared himself to the rest of his kind, or even to the humans and aliens that were fighting on his planet, he couldn't help but think that he was out of his league. Perhaps he was just too small, or too young, or too spoiled by the good life to have what it takes. Maybe it would be better for everyone to just stay at the library, sleeping away his trouble like he had always done. Maybe just send word to the others that Rarity had been taken, and let them handle it.
Perhaps he would've done so, had Rarity not been in danger. He truly loved her, just as much as Twilight or Celestia or any of his friends, and he knew that she loved him back. He now had the tools and the opportunity to be a hero - to save his damsel in distress, and prove himself as a dragon and a warrior. He wanted to be a knight in shining armor, and know he had everything he needed - training, a lady in need, a beast to slay, and his own suit of armor. Fate couldn't be more direct if it smacked him in the ass.
'Do it,' He declared firmly, 'I'm ready.'
Trust me, little Spike, you are not.
A blinding pain- an intense, overbearing burning sensation that went down to the molecular level- enveloped the little dragon, enrapturing him mind, body and soul. As the pain consumed his mind, Spike held onto one final thought, his anger in the storm of transformation; an image of a pearly white unicorn, smiling sweetly at him. I'm coming for you, milady.
On the outside, all Spike could do was scream, as his body began to grow and change, and the astartes armor began running in the direction of the forest…
Rarity was scared out of her mind. That horrible, disgusting creature tossed her into a sack like a piece of garbage, and thrashed and bashed her as she was taken to an unknown location. They spoke to each other in a harsh yet beautiful language, which sounded like broken glass being dragged across steel.
She did not know how long she was kept in that bag, or how far they had taken her. She feared what would happen when they let her out, and she prayed that help would come soon. If not… well, she did have one ace up her coat, a little trick she used on a band of diamond dogs oh-so-long-ago.
After what seemed like hours, the movement stopped, and Rarity was unceremoniously dumped out of the bag, landing on her back. She cried out in pain, her spine landing on a particularly sharp rock. She looked up around her, and she quickly went silent.
The monsters had brought her to Castle Everfree, where her friends had stood tall and vanquished Nightmare Moon. Now though, an entirely new breed of evil was making residence here. A large altar had built, surrounded by a collective of hooded human-looking creatures kneeling and praying. More of the tall, armor-clad monsters stood guard at the entrances, watching the arcane ritual with mild disgust.
Behind her, the tallest monster, the one most likely to be the leader, spoke rather loudly, 'Here you are, Mon-Keighs - a precious little Po-Neigh, and a Bearer, just as you asked.'
'I have a name, you know.' The fashionista harrumphed. 'I'd prefer it if you would show me the respect of calling me 'Ms. Rarity', not 'Po-Neigh'.'
'Shut up, filth.' The leader snarled at her. 'Human, let us spill her blood and be done with this ritual. I grow weary of this place.'
'Archon, would you deny us the chance to feed on fresh meat?' One of the creatures challenged the leader.
'Fool, there are more victims that we can harvest, but only one Bearer that we can use. Caiasan, use her as you will.'
One of the hooded figures stepped forward, and grabbed her violently by the mane and tail, taking her to the altar. 'Gah!' Rarity yelped, 'Put me down, you ruffian! This is no way to treat a lady!'
'Stop whining, wretch.' The cultist hissed back. 'We haven't even done anything to you yet.'
As she was shoved onto the altar, she gathered up all the haughty aloofness she could muster, as she began her 'key offensive'. 'I am not whining, you fool.' She sneered, 'I am complaining. Do you want to hear whining?'
'What are you getting at, you-'
'THIIIIS is WHIIIINNNING!' Rarity whined, putting all her effort in making an annoying screechy voice. 'Why did you throw me in that stinky old bag?! It was so dark and nasty and dirty! My hooves are dirty, my mane is a mess, my-'
'Bitch, SHUT UP!' The Archon came up close to the unicorn, and back-handed her. Hard. Instantly, a red handprint grew on her face, and her horn had a hairline fracture running across its length. But more importantly, it made Rarity quiet, as she looked back at the alien with fear-stricken eyes.
'You think you know pain?' He hissed, baring his horrendous teeth. 'You think you know fear? What I just gave was a sample- a taste- of what we have in store for you. We are creatures that feed on such things, you see. And your pain, your fear…' He inhaled her scent in a rather disturbing manner, 'Yours is the most delicious thing I've experienced. And I shall make sure that my Kabal and I shall feed on you for a long, long, long time.'
'Not until we are done with her, I'm afraid.' The cultist interrupted, now brandishing a heavily stylized knife, which glowed with an unnatural malice. Rarity stared in horror as the man brought the knife close to her standing right above her… only to grab her hoof and make a thin cut upon it.
'That's it?' The Archon snarked, 'Just one little cut? I thought you humans would be doing something more… damaging.'
'The ritual itself requires only a few drops of blood of chosen blood.' The cultist explained, squeezing the hoof hard enough to make Rarity squeal to get every drop, dripping it onto the altar. 'The rest can be done with a sacrificial animal or volunteer. You can do with her as you wish- consider it a little treat for leading us through the Webway.'
The human gave the pony back to the Archon. He then tossed her over to a group of three warriors. 'Take her out to the forest.' He ordered. 'And get her ready for harvesting. I want prepped and unsullied, and Khaine help the fool who touches her before me.'
The three Kabalites did as they were told, and took the screaming and bloody mare with them into the forest. Casra Fel turned back to the cultists and the rest of his Kabal. He would feast on the pony's soul, no doubt. But first, he would see what manner of daemon they had been so ordered to summon…
By the time Spike came back to full consciousness, Adam had piloted the machine deep into the forest. He was still foggy on the details, but he could feel that something was…different. He felt taller, for one, as well as a good deal stronger. He was tall enough to see out of the eye holes of the helmet, his neck extending a bit. He could also feel himself carrying what had to be a massive gun, probably a bolter.
'Adam?' He asked a bit groggily, 'Where are we?'
We're approaching Castle Everfree, The god explained, Where the darkness is heaviest. If she anywhere, she will be here.
'Hey, uh, these 'Dark Eldar?' The dragon asked, remembering why they were here, 'You've fought them before, haven't you?'
Oh yes, many times before. It was many, many years ago, but I have fought against them, and I know how dangerous they can be.
Inside, Spike felt his body around with his tail, searching for his sword. On the plus side, he could now feel he had wings, which made him ecstatic in the back of his mind. However, he couldn't find his sword anywhere inside.
Don't worry, Adam explained, I took the blade and attached it to the wrist. But with the bolter gun and chain sword, I doubt we'll need it.
'Wait, where did you get those weapons?'
I brought them along, of course. Now slow down, we're approaching the camp, and I can hear someone coming.
Spike put force into his legs, and suit came to an abrupt halt. He listened through the helmet- indeed, he could hear footsteps. Footsteps, the sounds of a struggle… and the sounds of Rarity's muffled screams.
'Rarity!' Spike exclaimed, his voice contained within the metal suit.
Stay back, fool. Adam hissed, taking some control back. We cannot reveal ourselves just yet. He brought the dragon and suit down to a crouch, hiding behind some overgrowth to observe the kidnappers.
Three Kabalites tossed a tied and bound Rarity into a clearing, the unicorn looking all the worse for ware. One of them said, 'She looks promising, I tell you what. Let's start this now, before Fel comes.'
'But the Archon will kill us if we harm her before he comes.' The second said, resting a hand on his sword's hilt.
'Perhaps,' A third one said, 'But we could just tell him we were beset by the natives, and she died in the crossfire. We can still have our fun.'
'Indeed, but what should we do to her?' The second one asked.
'I want to rape her.'
'I want to skin her.'
'I say we eat her. I bet Po'Neigh flesh is delicious.'
As the three argued, Spike forced the suit down to a crouch, and crawled his way to the edge. He took his time, taking it slowly and quietly, avoiding any and all detection. Silently, he pulled out the bolter gun, and lined up a shot for a druchii's head. He switched it to single shot- he didn't want to waste ammo if he could help it.
Before he fired his shot, his target declared, 'Okay, so here's what we're going to do. Sammael, you can rape her. Belial, you can skin her at the same time. When you two are done, all three of us can-'
DAKKA!
The Dark Eldar's head exploded into so much chunky salsa, coating everyone in the clearing with his brains.
Nice shot. Adam complimented, But I think they're onto you now.
'Yeah, I know.' Spike Acknowledged. 'Switching to three-round burst.'
The other two creatures drew their djin blades, and began evading the bursts of fire as Spike revealed himself, standing as a mighty avenger against the elvish offenders. 'Who dares attack the warriors of Cimmoragh?!' One of them challenged, standing over Rarity with a sword held high. 'Show yourselves, or we'll drain the wretch of her blood!'
Spike jumped out of the brush, standing tall in the armor of the Emperor's Finest. Inside, his teeth were bared, his nostrils smoking, his eyes narrowed to slits. Adam decided now was a perfect time to temper the dragon's natural rage with a bit of His 'Righteous Fury', making him radiate a supernatural golden glow. 'LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU SADISTIC-ASS FUCKS!' He roared, charging at them with his gun blazing and the chain-sword out and whirring.
This caught both the D. Eldar and Rarity off guard. Space Marines don't curse, not like that. They held themselves with more uprightness and piety, and wouldn't go about using such vulgar language. And then there was the fact that this one also cared about the fate of some random xeno, which seemed even more out of character. Rarity, however, could identify that voice right away, despite the distortion from the rage and helmet vox.
'Spike, save me!' She screamed.
'Hold on a sec!' He shouted back, finishing up his clip. 'Let me take care of these clowns!'
As the last round fired, Adam spoke again. That was the last one. We didn't bring any more clips.
'What?' Spike gasped, deactivating the vox for a moment, 'Why not? Aren't these guys dangerous as hell?!'
Yes, but I was aiming to use your stealth skills to sneak in and get her out. We've played our hands too quickly. But I think now's the time to try out a little swordplay.
'I can work with that.' He tossed the bolter gun at one of the Kabalites. The druchii sliced through the gun with ease, but think to also dodge the charging astartes. Spike launched him into a tree, stunning him momentarily. The other alien charged from behind, and the dragon blocked the strike just in time.
Djin blade and Chainsword clashed against each other, dragon and alien circling each other. Spike's training, when combined with the millennia of the Emperor's experience and holy rage, easily pressed the advantage against the alien. Sammael, however, was feeling a tingle of fear. He was a great swordsman, and had slain many a Marine before. But this one was having at him like his old teachers back when he was a child. Who was this Mon'Keigh?
Belial, the other alien, finally stood up, and attempted to stab him from behind. Adam/Spike, however, sensed his approach, and with the strength of a Dragon Space Marine, leapt high into the air. Sammael narrowly dodged the strike, and slapped his comrade. 'Watch your strikes, fool!' He hissed.
'I didn't know they could fly now!' The other stated defensively. 'Where did he even go?'
'Right here!' A voice said from above.
Spike landed behind Belial, cutting through the alien's head and body. He cleaved him into two neat, vertical halves, which fell in opposite directions.
Sammael saw an opportunity. As Belial's remains fell, he reached out and kicked the chainsword out of his hand. In the same spinning motion, he swung his sword, and the helmet of the Space Marine.
'SPIIIIKE! NOOOOOO!' Rarity wailed. The suit fell down to its knees, headless and defeated. The monster, standing proud over his kill, laughed at her pain.
'Stupid insect!' He sneered at her, turning his full attention to her, 'You honestly thought one human would be enough to kill me.'
He began walking to Rarity, the mare trembling in fear. Neither of them noticed the armor began moving, standing back up slowly. Spike's head raised up out of the neck hole, no longer looking like a baby dragon. His muzzle had extended, canines poking out of his mouth. His scales and spines had turned to darker colors, and looked decidedly sharper. But the biggest difference were the eyes. No longer were his eyes those of a happy-go-lucky kid. Now - being modified into a pseudo-astartes and powered by the Emperor himself - his eyes held a hard, steely glint of warrior filled with righteous fury.
The alien stepped up to the pony, a devilish grin on his face. 'Your faith in humanity is misplaced,' He snarled, his arm reaching for her throat, 'For I am immortal, and no Mon'Keigh, mortal or Space Marine, can kill the likes of me.'
WHISH! SLASH!
In the span of one second, Spike had ignited the wrist blade, and sliced the monster's arm off at the elbow. Sammael screeched with rage and pain, his forearm twitching on the ground while his stump sizzled and smoked. He turned around, only to have two feet of plasma stab into his gut. His strength leaving him, he looked up to see that, instead of the beady angry eyes of a human, the cold slit eyes of a vengeful lizard stared down at him.
'I am no Mon'Kiegh,' Spike snarled at him, 'I am a Dragon.'
The last thing Sammael saw before his soul was consumed by Slaneesh was the beast open his open, and spew baleful green fire upon him. And like many of his previous victims, he left the materium screaming like a bitch.
Spike tossed away the burning corpse, and approached his maiden. Disengaging his blade, he gingerly picked her up, and brought her close.
'Rarity,' He asked, 'Are you alright?'
'You… you saved me, Spike.' Rarity spoke weakly, hardly more than a whisper.
'You should've known I would always come for you, milady.' Their faces got close, practically nose-to-nose.
Spike, Adam warned, The others must've heard us, and will likely come in force. We must-
Adam was cutoff, as Spike's brain was blinded by Rarity's kiss. The feeling was, in a word, astounding, and was blowing the poor dragon's mind. What made it awkward was that the Emperor was still connected, and he felt the same thing is a strange, voyeuristic fashion.
Huh, so that's what its like… that's surprisingly nice. In fairness, the sensation may have been affected by Spike's passion, or that Adam had a dry spell longer than most civilizations. Either way, he couldn't help but think of Luna, and feel guilty.
But he wouldn't let personal feeling jeopardize this mission, here and now.
Spike, stop it! He ordered. Dutifully, the dragon complied, pulling back before they could go into a makeout session.
'Spike, darling, how did you survive?' Rarity asked, catching her breath. 'When that brute cut off your helmet, I thought-'
'I had been craning my neck to see.' Spike explained, extending his neck a bit further. 'When I saw the blade coming, I brought my head down before it could get me. I pretended to be dead so I could catch him by surprise, and clearly it worked.'
'But how are you operating this thing? Space Marines are supposed to be huge, and you're, well…'
We can talk about this later! Adam spoke to both of their minds. But we need to leave, NOW!
'He's right! Let's go!' Spike held Rarity close to his chest, and began heading back to Ponyville. The unicorn closed her eyes, and fell asleep, safe in the arms of her protector…
'Did you hear something?' The Archon asked aloud.
'Dunno,' Kalahar answered, 'What did it sound like?'
'There was screaming, then shouting, and a clash of blades and the spraying of blood.'
'Huh, I bet those foolish lackeys of yours started without you. If they know what's best for themselves, they will put each other to the blade before you collect them.'
'For once, Gorn, I can agree with you. When this ritual is finished, I shall personally feast upon those incompetent cretins.'
As he said this, both of them stared at the strange human ritual like it was a campfire. The altar itself began to glow an unnatural orange, as the cultists began chanting words that made their ears, noses and mouths bleed. A pair of cultists held a mutant slave they had brought along onto the altar, with one of them brandishing a knife against the victim's throat. Fel observed that as the chant reached a higher pitch, the slab of stone would go from brighter to dimmer.
'Behold, oh mighty Ruinous Powers,' Caiasan intoned, 'We offer you the blood of the vile blasphemer, tainted by the lifeblood of the corrupted. We offer you this humble sacrifice, so that we may summon your champions. We pray to you, o gods, so that we may bring forth the channels of Chaos Itself. With this offer of blood, we summon Khazarni and Khazukull!'
The priest slit mutant's throat, his lifeblood drenching the altar in a manner that shouldn't have been possible. When the blood touched the drop of Rarity's blood, the glow of the altar transferred to the liquid, and floated up into the air. The glowing blood formed a tall, narrow portal, sucking and consuming all matter around it- altar, priests and corpse. Electricity discharged from the construct as it solidified, giving a slight hum of energy, and the portal opened up to the warp itself.
The first thing to come out was a cloud of long, black smoke. This misty stream of gas sparkled like a starry night, floating this way and that as if examining them. The Archon could feel that it looked at them with distaste and loathing. It pulled away from the portal, and began congealing over on the side of the room.
The next thing that leapt out of the portal was… well, hard to describe. It looked like a pile of rotten meat, but it was always changing shape and it burned everyone's eyes to look right at it. Slowly, the blob began to grow and take shape, growing four long, thin legs which were sharp as spikes. It bore a mane and tail, the hair curled in the shapes of screaming faces within. The body was a disturbing shade of pink, bearing many scars of cuts and burns. And, most tellingly of all, the flank had a design of three black balloons trapped inside the Wheel of Chaos.
'I smell a pedophile.'
The creature - a she, from the sound of her sickly-sweet voice - lifted its head, staring down Khalahar. Its eyes were massive, taking up much of its face. The iris - which was a sickly blue - was almost completely gone, the pupil taking almost as much room as the whites. Fel couldn't help but think that those were the Eyes of Madness.
'Pedophiles are delicious.'
The monster grinned a nasty, nightmare-straight-out-of-hell grin. She had way more teeth than should've been possible, with four long fangs up front. Her teeth were like a wolf - all sharp and pointy - but were also like a shark - each and every tooth was jagged and serrated. For a creature meant to be a pony, the abomination before them was every inch a predator.
'You wouldn't believe how hungry crossing dimensions can make you.'
Before the Kabalites could even think, the daemon jumped on Khalahar, tearing through armor and skin with ease. Gorn screamed as his intestines were ripped out of him, being devoured before his very eyes. Fel drew his sword, and went to attack the monster.
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'Do not interfere, whelp!'
The Archon turned, looking to see who would dare challenge him. This daemon was as different to the monster as night and day. This creature was as black as space, with a flowing mane and tail that sparkled like the night sky. It had a large purple blemish on its flank, with a crescent in the center. Its wings were large and majestic, and the horn was long enough to gore an Ork. But most strikingly of all, the eyes were turquoise, and were vertical slits like a dragon, with the stunning grace of a female.
She was tall and beautiful and deadly as the finest of swords. While she radiated an aura of power and authority, Fel could see in her eyes that she was filled naught but with malice and hate.
'Kneel before your new masters, foals!' An aura grew around her horn, and all the humans and Eldar felt themselves forced to their knees. They struggled against the force, but found themselves paralyzed. The alicorn then directed her attention to the carnivorous pony.
'Khazukull,' She snapped at her compatriot, 'Stop wasting our time on that degenerate!'
Khazukull groaned in disappointment, but crushed her victim's skull, and skipped over to the alicorn's side.
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'Now then,' She continued, her voice now smooth as silk, 'Which of you hopeless lackeys are in command?' Caiasan and Fel spoke up, and were released from her control.
'I am Khazarni, Chosen of Tzeentch,' The alicorn stated proudly, 'And this is my compatriot Khazukull, Chosen of Slaneesh. From now on, you shall take orders from us, or each and every one of you will suffer the same fate as that sack of meat over there. Do I make myself clear?'
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A blinding pain in the leader's minds compelled to answer yes.
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'Good.' The dark alicorn sounded positively smug, as she continued, 'Our first order of business will be to gather up reinforcements for our little engagement. Druchii, you and your Kabalites will come with me to the Badlands, where we have a certain queen to speak with. Human, your followers shall accompany Khazukull up north, where you will find the Last King of the Crystal Empire. When we finish, we shall reconvene in Ghastly Gorge a fortnight's time.'
'Yes, Lady Khazarni.' The cultists and Kabalites answered in unison, cowed by their new leader.
'So then let us depart, my slaves, and make haste. For soon, the Darkness shall last forever!' She gave an evil, dominating laugh, as distant explosions thundered in the forest.
Khazukull nudged a human cultist, and murmured, 'Wanna help me cut up that body? If we do it right, we can make enough Eldar cupcakes for everypony.' She gave the mortal a nasty smile, a line of drool dripping from her mouth. 'Won't that be fun?'
A/N: Here it is - the moment where Spike becomes a warrior, and the major players of Chaos are introduced. I know this chapter took all summer to do, but this is what happens when your creative muse convinces you to start three different projects over summer break (which I'm still working on with at least one).
Anyways, Khazarni and Khazukull are indeed Nightmare Moon and 'Pinkamina', respectively.