This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
The first thing that came into his mind was a Phoenix Dive - a rather risky tactic that he had used once before. But never from such a height."Oh well, No time like the present," he chimed, trying to dispel his nerves and having some success.
Varlas engaged the autopilot on the Landspeeder and it shot off to land behind the estate home that was infested. The Ork and Human Nurgling bolted off in pursuit, dripping effluence in their wake. The Eldar Nurgling, even with its rotten and corrupt mind, still had enough sense to realise that this was too simple.
As if to confirm its suspicions, Varlas drove his psychic blade through the daemon's chest from behind. "Go with the Eldar, my fallen brother," Varlas whispered, as the possessed corpse disintegrated into putrid green ooze that seeped into the soil. Varlas had jumped from the Landspeeder as it left as a distraction. He had relied on his black coat and Bodyglove for camouflage as he fell behind the Daemons.
Varlas found the fallen Eldar's wraith-bone amulet. As far as he could tell it was still intact. The Eldar's immortal soul resided within. Varlas took it out of respect to his half-blood lineage. Varlas felt sympathy seep through him as he looked upon the amulet. He was part Eldar on his mother's side. She had died not long after he had been born. An Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos killed her on the spot and she didn't even fight back. Varlas fought for control between his human and Eldar emotions. The Eldar within sympathised with the fallen Eldar but the human in him was utterly reviled by the alien filth. One thing they shared in common was hatred of Chaos. That was what made Varlas so powerful.
Varlas pushed on toward the estate house. He caught up with the human Nurgling and dispatched it by severing its head from its lopsided shoulders. The Ork turned to face him. Though it was infected and rotten to the core, its primal strength and instinct for war still remained. The Ork swung out, trying to crush the puny human that confronted it.
Varlas dived and weaved between its blows with cat-like prowess. He saw everything as though it was in slow motion. He breathed a silent thanks to his mother for his dexterity. The strength of his father helped him next as he severed an arm from the plagued beast. Varlas then merged the strength and finesse of both powers when he used his mental abilities. His mother had been an acolyte to the Farseer of her Craftworld and his father was also an accomplished psyker.
Varlas flayed the Daemon down to its base molecules with a blast of purple-blue lightning. Warp energy crackled around Varlas and he quickly reined in his potency, careful not to destroy the client's property. Varlas burst through the open doorway and cut down two Nurglings that made a sickeningly meagre attempt at trying to kill him. Varlas flurried his sword, cleaning its blade.
He walked through the old Estate house, checking the rooms for enemies, but found nought. Something was not right. Varlas was caught off-guard as a giant hand punched through the wall beside him, grasping him chokingly about the waist. When the dust had settled enough, Varlas could see a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. It was large and malformed. It had two horns, one shorter than the other. Its eyes were red orbs with black slits for pupils. Varlas could feel it probing at his psychic defences, looking for some weakness.
"Release me, Daemon, so that I may release you from your wretchedness," Varlas said, trying not to let strain enter his voice. The Daemon laughed.
"Brave young hunter. And fool hardy...just like your father," replied the Daemon, its voice a mess of gargling and mucus, though Varlas could hear hatred in its voice. Varlas flinched at the Daemon's comment.
"I finally have something to use against that Khornate fool," the Daemon laughed, slime dripping from its maw.
Confusion speared through Varlas like a hot knife. "My Father is dead...killed by Bloodletters," said Varlas, as evenly as possible as he regained his focus.
"By Nurgle's Pestilence if that were only true. Your father has been a thorn in my side for the past 15 years." The Daemon Spat viscosity on the floor to mark his disgust.
Varlas managed to unhook his plasma pistol and levelled it at the Daemon and shooting it in the head. The bolt of blue-purple plasma tore a hole through its head and easily carried on through the wall behind. The Daemon's unsettling asymmetrical smile still remained as the hole was quickly filled with new ill-looking flesh.
"My master said you would be a pain. And I would kill you now were I not commanded to spare you. For now I will leave you. Just remember that I, Sloreth, shall return for your soul. But first, my regards to your family."
Varlas was thrown into the adjacent wall. The Greater Daemon left through the hole in the wall it had created. It entered a waiting warp gate and vanished as it closed. The breach in the wall was quickly filled with Lesser Daemon's as Varlas rose to his feet.
"In the name of the Emperor, return to the hell from whence you came lest ye be crushed in his honour," said Varlas, reciting a piece of text his father had taught him. The daemons simply smiled with bared teeth and fangs as they charged in. Varlas smiled as he likewise charged forward with vigour and fire in his heart.
Varlas had dispatched the Lesser Daemons with relative ease that came with being a Daemon Hunter. The flight home seemed to take longer, but Varlas didn't mind too much. He needed time to figure things out. Though when he arrived home he wished he had been quicker.
When he saw House Caledan come into view, his heart nearly stopped in his chest. Black smoke rolled from the windows like oil stained waves. The majority of House Caledan was still intact, though several corridors and rooms on the exterior had collapsed. Fire burned around the entrance to the Manor House and poured through open windows. Pestilence covered the extremities of the Manor like acne on a teenager's face. Puss dripped down the walls from huge boils that looked as though they had been made from human remains.
The pilot servitor brought the gun cutter down next to the estate. No sooner had the rear loading ramp descended then Varlas leapt onto the gravel approach to the Manor entrance. Varlas halted quickly in his tracks as a flaming figure broke through the door, spreading evermore flames that licked up the side of the building like a daemon's tongue.
The fire wreathed victim staggered toward Varlas. His skin began smouldering as the flames that bathed him began to abruptly die out. His flesh was the colour of mucus and covered with cancerous growths that seemed to grow before Varlas with incredible speed. The smell of putrid filth and burnt meat filled Varlas' senses and his stomach started to turn sickeningly. As Varlas stared at the victim's face through the malignant growth he recognised him. "Ernestus?" Varlas breathed in dismay; it was one of the elders from the Psyker hall within house Caledan.
"Yes, dear boy," Ernestus managed through his throat with a gargling sound. "Why...why have you...done this?" he struggled.
Varlas moved toward the old man warily as he spoke. "I have nothing to do with this, Elder Ernestus. I swear on the Honour of Caledan, " Varlas said, trying to figure out what his elder meant.
Ernestus swiped at Varlas with the claws of his nails that had hardened and mutated. "You have no right to that name, liar. Heretic!" Ernestus spat, venomously.
Varlas stopped in his tracks at the statement, he felt the fire in his heart rising in anger. How could he - a devoted servant to House Caledan and The Emperor of Mankind - be a heretic? It was absurd, and yet Ernestus had spat it at him as though it were the truth.
As Varlas struggled with what he had heard, he nearly didn't dodge in time as a bolt of lightning flared towards him. Ernestus'sfingers smoked as he stood with his hand raised towards Varlas and fired a series of searing warp energies.
"Though I am infected...with the vile essence of Chaos, I shall take your screaming soul back with me into the Warp. I swear, by the Emperor, I will," Ernestus managed, coughing as his oesophagus was being consumed by the viruses that ravaged his frail body.
Varlas dived and weaved, avoiding the blasts, but fell as a whip of warp energy lashed about his legs. The wind was knocked from him and he quickly tried to free himself as Ernestus'sfoot came down on his face and he felt his nose break. He could taste iron in his throat and his heart was beating furiously as Ernestus held a hand that glowed with arcane energies over his face. Varlas moved his head as a blast of lightning came down, just barely escaping. The excess energy, however, still managed to run through the floor and speared through his chest, causing him to cry out like a wounded animal.
Varlas managed to unsheathe his sword and cut his legs free of the snare holding them. His psychic blade hummed with power. As Varlas stood, another arc of lightning was launched at him, but this time he was ready he dived below it, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up as it passed over him. He stood quickly and deflected another blast with his blade and nearly lost his footing. Ernestus was now being reduced to nothing more than a skeleton, with putrid growths in place of flesh. Varlas Knew that his elder had gone and resolved to pray for him so that his soul would find its way to the Emperor's side.
Varlas felt galvanised by the fact that his elder was gone and all that remained was his tainted possessed body. He dashed forwards, dodging and deflecting the coruscating energies, and with one powerful stroke he separated Ernestus'shead from his shoulders. His body slumped and began transforming into a pile of foul smelling goo. Varlas looked around the house exterior. Some of the fires had been put out by milling servitors that he had only now noticed. Varlas planted the blade of his sword in front of the remains of Elder Ernestus and said a quick prayer for his immortal soul. Varlas's rage subsided and in its place great sorrow grew. As the servitors got the blaze under control, Varlas Entered House Caledan. As he walked the halls leading to the Hall of Ancestors he surveyed the damage. The walls were mainly charred black, but the protection shields around the more expensive pictures had saved them from the blaze. In the pictures were the greatest Caledan's of their ages.
Varlas approached the Hall of Ancestors's main door. It was a large door made from gold and reinforced adamantium over which lay a void shield. The design on the door depicted the Emperor bringing light to the universe. In his right fist was a blazing sword and in the other a miniature sun, depicting the Emperor's guiding light. A glorious halo was emblazoned about the Emperor's head. Varlas was gratified to find that the security protocols had engaged and sealed the chamber. He entered his security code into a cogitator screen beside the door. The machine spirit within the cogitator hummed as it verified his code. Eventually, the doors opened with an almost aching groan that rose from the door frames as if in protest to their sudden movement.
Hive World Terra