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Da Portal of Darkness Chapta 13 | |
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Da Portal Of Darkness Chapta 13 |
“So dis is ya idea den is it?” Drazzok asked while the orks stood watching the crane lift Hazug’s truck off the dockside. The gretchin had moved the barge further along the dockside to where the use of the massive cargo handling cranes that dated back to before the ork invasion were located, and one of them was now in the process of loading Hazug’s vehicle onto the barge. “Just watch,” Hazug said as his vehicle was deposited on the deck of the barge, and the orks all watched the gretchin crew as they removed the chains that had supported the truck and waved to the human crane operator for him to lift the crane clear. “Dare,” Hazug said,” did ya see it?” The other orks stood in silence and just looked at one another, shaking their heads. “Perhaps its invisible,” a madboy commented. “If its invisible,” another madboy said thoughtfully, den it could be all around us and we wouldn’t know it. “We is surrounded!” a third yelled, and the madboys all drew their weapons and began to turn around looking for a non-existent enemy. “Its nought invisible,” Hazug shouted, then in a lower tone of voice he explained himself, “When da trukk was put on da deck it was still chained to da crane, if da boat ‘ad sunk under it, da crane would ‘ave ‘eld it up. Da same goes for da battlewagon, we watch to see if da boat sinks while da grots is undoin’ da chains. If it starts to go down we lifts da wagon back up and den sends a grot down to stick another chain to me trukk. Goddit?” There was muttering from the orks, many of who didn’t really understand, but by tradition were willing to go along with what the larger nob was saying, even if he was a Blood Axe. By the time that the battlewagon was being hoisted into position, a large crowd of orks had gathered to watch. They stood in near silence as the heavy vehicle was gently lowered onto the deck of the barge behind Hazug’s truck, and they stared intently at it as the barge began to sink lower in the water under its weight. Then their eyes widened in anticipation as the gretchin crew released the chains securing the battlewagon and they were lifted clear. Throughout the crow there followed a mass of groans and jeers as the apparently unstable barge remained afloat instead of disintegrating as the assembled crowd had hoped would happen. Teeth were exchanged as wagers on whether or not the barge would sink were settled. “Now we go aboard da boat too master?” Ratish asked, tugging at Hazug's leg. “Don’t be bloody daft ya grot,” Hazug said, “I aint getting’ on dat boat. Let dat other grots take da wagons across. I is ‘irin’ a decent boat for us.” The boat that Hazug found to carry the warband across the river was captained by an ork who happened to have won several teeth when the gretchin’s barge failed to sink, so he was in a good mood when negotiating a price, and gave Hazug a good deal. “Ya already made me more dan da trip’s worth after all,” the ork said. The ork’s boat got the wrband across the river much faster than the barge that carried their vehicles, and along with Two Heads, Hazug set about selecting a suitable point on the disused dockside for the gretchin to dock their barge. Lacking the cranes that had been used to load the vehicles onto the barge, a location was instead found where the barge could be moored pointing inwards, and when the gretchin successfully brought their vessel to a halt several sturdy looking girders that the gretchin had to hand were laid out from the deck to the dockside forming a ramp to allow the vehicles to be driven straight off the barge. With his truck being located at the front of the barge, Hazug tested the ramp first, to be followed by the battlewagon. Two Heads was unwilling to trust this bit of driving to a less experienced ork, so instead he drove it from the barge himself. Unusually for an ork, especially a speed loving Evil Sun, he carefully followed the directions given to him by Gorrid. Gorrid had been the youngest member of Two Heads mob when Hazug had first met him during their fight against a tau warband and their human assassins who had sought to kill warboss Kromag, but by way of being the only one of Two Heads’ mob to have survived that fight he was now the mutant ork’s most experienced soldier, even if he had lost his left leg to an energy blast from an assassin’s weapon and due to a shortage of replacements had it replaced with a right one. “Where to now den?” Hazug asked Drazzok when the weirdboy settled in beside him. “Dat way,” Drazzok replied, stretching out the hand that still clutched Sophie’s hair. “Right dens lads,” Hazug said, his voice raised so that all of the madboys in the back of the truck and especially Thuggrim who had positioned himself on the gun again could hear him, “we is in enemy territory now, so keep an eye for humans. But don’t shoot ‘em until I says so, ya might ‘it Sophie by mistake.” “D’ya want me to use me good eye den?” Thuggrim said, his hand taking hold of the pouch around his neck. “I don’t reckon dat dat is called for,“ Hazug said, and he began to drive in the direction that Drazzok was still waving in impatiently. Jarr was dying. He knew it. The bolter round that struck him had caused enough damage to end his life; though not rapid via organ failure instead he was bleeding internally. The medicines that he had available would allow him to stave off death for a few days yet, but the more he moved the faster his rate of blood loss would be. He had known from the moment that he took this mission that returning to the Imperium would be unlikely, a retrieval ship would have difficulty in penetrating the ork fleet in orbit, but now it appeared that he would die before even setting eyes on his target, former Imperial governor Venris Highbalt. He had successfully evaded any search that the traitor marines had carried out after his escape at the river and returned to the abandoned farm that was now serving as his camp, but they were probably still looking for him, it would be unlike such professional troop to give up so soon. With his original firing position now compromised Jarr was reluctant to seek out another so soon. He would wait until nightfall and then make his way back towards the webway gate. Until then, he would rest. The abandoned region across the river reminded Hazug of the old human capital where he had fought against the tau the previous year. Unlike in either the area occupied by the orks or Git Town the buildings had been left to decay, and the truck frequently lurched as Hazug drove over small pieces of debris scattered in the roads. “Go left ‘ere, I think,” Drazzok said, then he corrected himself,
“No ‘ang on a mo, go straight on.” “I don’t know, dis ‘air’s on da fritz.” “Try holdin’ it out more,” the madboy sat immediately behind Drazzok suggested, “ya might get more signal bars.” Hazug and Drazzok both turned to face the madboy. “Wot da bleedin’ ‘ell is ya on about?” Drazzok said, “Wot’s signal bars?” “Dunno,” the madboy said, not happy at being asked to explain himself, “Its just somethin’ I ‘eard a mekboy talkin’ about when he was makin’ somethin’ talk to someone wot wasn’t dare.” “Bad mistake lad,” Hazug said as Drazzok scowled at the madboy. “A mekboy?” he said, “Is ya sayin’ dat I should act like a mekboy?” “Really bad mistake lad,” Hazug added. “Ow!” the madboy yelled, lifting his hands to shield his head as Drazzok punched him. “Best get to da back of da truck lad,” Hazug suggested, and he madboy obediently got up and moved out of Drazzok’s reach. “So wot way den?” Hazug asked. Drazzok looked over his shoulder to see where the madboy who had spoken up was now sat. Seeing that he was right at the back of the truck and not looking in his direction, Drazzok leant over and held the length of hair out of the truck. “Straight on,” he said and Hazug accelerated, continuing along the abandoned street. “Wait no,” Drazzok said suddenly, prodding Hazug in his side, “she’s off to da left after all.” “Make ya mind up Drazzok,” Hazug replied, “just tell me wot way I needs to drive.” “Stop a mom,” Drazzok told him, “I wants to take a look at dis while we is stopped,” and Hazug braked sharply. From the rear of the truck came a squeal as an unsecured madboy landed on top of Ratish. “Ya aint just squashed me grot ‘ave ya?” Hazug asked, turning to look at his passengers. “Ratish is fine master,” Ratish said, crawling out from beneath the ork who was also picking himself up off the vehicle’s floor. “Well dat’s good,” Hazug said. “Master really think so?” Ratish said, staring straight at Hazug. “Sure I does,” Hazug answered him, “I is already missin’ a servant without loosin’ ya as well. Who else would clean me ‘ouse?” then he turned back to Drazzok who was holding up the length of hair and staring intently at it. At that moment a shout came from behind the truck. “Wot’s appenin’?” Two Heads shouted, “Why does we keep stoppin’?” “Just checkin’ directions,” Hazug shouted back before speaking to Drazzok, “So ‘ave ya figured it out yet den?” he asked. “Dis is well weird,” Drazzok said, “Watch da ‘air.” Hazug looked at the length of hair, his attention being drawn towards the tiny piece of wood that Drazzok had tied to the end to make it more visible. It appeared that the piece of wood, and thus the hair itself was moving back and forth. “Wot does it mean when its movin’ about like dat?” Hazug asked. “Well if ya git was right in front of us, it would mean dat she was walkin’ about, but she clearly aint dat close to us. For da ‘air to be movin’ about like it is means dat she must be movin’ pretty quick.” “Den dey got wagons,” Hazug said, “and dey got Sophie in one of ‘em.” Sophie wasn’t cold any more. The heat given off by the truck’s engine coupled with the body heat of the squad of soldiers pressed inside had warmed the air in the truck nicely. The truck bounced as it drove over something on the ground. “Get off me,” Sophie snapped at the guard at next to her when he placed his hand on her shoulder, and the pair of marines at the opposite end of the vehicle’s interior both looked in her direction. “Hey, I’m just making sure you don’t fall out girly, the boss wouldn’t like that,” the guard answered her, and the marines looked away. Strangely, Sophie found the presence of the marines comforting. Their enormous size and the design of their armour gave them a frightening appearance, but as far as Sophie could tell they were not going to let her come to any harm. The other soldiers were the former governor’s men, and from the tales that she had heard they would be unlikely to treat her well if left to their own urges. Sophie glanced out of the rear of the truck towards the vehicle immediately behind. She noticed that the city had now given way to open ground on which there were nothing but ruins and wild plant growth poking through rubble. Clearly she was being taken out of the city. But where to? For a moment she thought she heard a woman scream, and she wondered which vehicle Rhia had been placed in, forgetting briefly that the other woman had turned out not to be her friend and had been partially responsible for her ending up in this predicament. “Hazug, where are you?” she whispered to herself. Further ahead in the column, former Imperial governor Venris Highbalt sipped at his drink. His own vehicle rocked slightly as it moved, but its superior suspension kept it relatively steady. The interior of the vehicle was also superior to the others available to his force, he had been sure to divert enough resources from his resistance towards keeping him comfortable. He was not alone in the rear of the vehicle, both chaplain Krixus and Nillotep sat with him. “A good vintage,” he said as he took a sip of his drink, part of keeping him comfortable all these years had been preserving his wine cellar since the invasion. Even after three decades he still had a large reserve left to him, “are you sure that you won’t join me Krixus? Nillotep?” Krixus remained silent, just shaking his head slowly. “I will refrain,” Nillotep said. “Ah yes, you probably need to keep a clear head for the ritual yes?” Highbalt commented, taking another sip. “I doubt that you have enough to affect me,” Nillotep replied, “we astartes can process such simple toxins with far greater efficiency than you are capable of.” “And here I was thinking that you couldn’t hold your drink,” Venris said, grinning, and he gulped down the remainder of the contents of the glass. “So tell me more about this ritual Nillotep,” Highbalt said to the Thousand Son sorcerer. “Like most great works it is elegant in its simplicity,” Nillotep began, “when the eldar created their networks of passageways through the warp they thought that they had located their gateways beyond the use of the denizens of that blessed realm. They were wrong.” “Yes, yes I know this bit,” Highbalt said, pouring himself another drink, “I want to know how it works.” “Beware governor,” Krixus interrupted, “it is not your place to make demands of us.” “Without me your patron would have had no reason to send you to my world,” Highbalt aid, glaring at the chaplain, “and as the one chosen to be blessed in ascension you would do well to remember that,” and he looked back at Nillotep, “Do go on,” he said. “The gateway is an anchor,” Nillotep continued, “it binds the webway beyond to the portal between dimensions itself. By presenting the sacrifice in the appropriate manner, the release of its soul into the portal while the gateway is active will break the chain that binds the portal to the webway and open it up to the immaterium itself.” “And our patron will be able to come through will he?” “He will come through before that Highbalt. The suffering of the sacrifice will act as a beacon to attract him, and he will be able to manifest in this world via your devotion to him.” “And that is when he will reward me yes?” Highbalt said excitedly, “I will become immortal?” “Your soul will become one with our lord, and then he will channel his power through the still living sacrifice to allow his brethren to come here also,” Nillotep answered, and Krixus smiled. “Something amuses you chaplain?” Highbalt asked him. “I merely await your transformation with great enthusiasm governor,” Krixus replied, not looking directly at the man. “As do I governor,” Nillotep added, “As do I.” |
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