Authors' note: i'm not brilliant at fight scenes so im sorry if its not quite up to scratch with the rest of the stroy so far.
Castor walked purposefully along the magnificent hallway his ornate sword at his hip. He was still in his dress uniform from earlier though explosions had coated it in a fine layer of dust. His shoes impacting the marble floor echoed ominously through the darkness. He would win and he would show them all how good a leader, a warrior and solider he was. No longer did his eyes shine they were now the same eyes that all real soldiers had, cold and focused.
Deitre strode forward towards the picture room his bodyguard trailing upon his heels. He would show that upstart Castor what it meant to be a soldier, warrior or what ever that young upstart thought he was. He wore the traditional clothing from his home world, a long grey overcoat decorated in numerous medal and awards. A small knife sat nestled in the small of his back. It was concealed by the animal pelt draped across his shoulders. A ceremonial staff was fastened to his hip tracking side to side as he walked.
Castor rounded the corner his mind focused his nerves steeled. To his right stood the inquisitor who had started all of this, his retinue stood half concealed by the shadows. To his right stood his own command squad their eyes fixed upon their leader. As he went to pass them the inquisitor stepped out and stopped him, in his hands he held a casket the size of a man's leg. The inquisitors hands were held open as if gesturing for Castor to take it but why would that be?
Deitre stood before the picture rooms' great entrance, the doors were at least fifteen feet high. Each bared half the imperial eagle, one half had a gem in its talons. Inside the gem from what Deitre could discern was the domain of the imperium of man. In the other talon a hooded skull could be clearly seen. This deeply unnerved Deitre as it felt like the skull was staring straight through his soul. He quickly recovered his nerve and marched towards the doors. As he reached them several of his subordinates forced open the doors to let him pass. Light spilled into the hallway blinding Deitre but he carried on as the doors swung shut behind him.
Castor stood on the opposite side of the room to him his hand resting upon his ornate sword. At his feet sat an opened casket. The wood it was made from looked very old possibly several centuries. Deitre caught a hint of cushioned lining and red felt, an ornate box for an ornate sword Deitre thought. In the centre of the room stood inquisitor Brouge his hands resting atop his daemon hammer.
Almost as one Deitre and Castor strode towards the inquisitor both intent on coming away as the victor. Then both stopped about a arms length away from the inquisitor, waiting for him to move or say what he had to say. Brouge looked at each one in turn then cleared his throat and began “May the emperors light guide his champions' blade to strike straight and true. Let the ritual commence.” Brouge hefted his daemon hammer onto his shoulder and turned walking towards the edge of the room. His heavy boots resounding off the marble floor.
Castor waited for Deitre to make the first move and luckily he didn't have to wait long, Deitre charged one hand clasped tightly round the haft of his staff while the other hand hung back round by the clip fastening the staff to his overcoat. Castor shifted his weight onto his right foot before drawing his own sword in one clean movement, the blade glistening in the artificial light that rained down upon it.
Deitre unclipped the staff and brought it above his head deftly, he swung it down aiming for Castors' head. Castor in response brought his sword arm up to block the strike with his sword. The clash of steel on steel rang out as the two weapons met. Because of the way Castor had positioned himself along with how he'd shifted his weight, Deitres' attack rotated him round his right foot sending Deitre sprawling to the floor as his staff glanced off Castors' blade.
Deitre quickly recovered rolling onto his back to avoid Castors' follow up attack, then throwing himself back onto his feet his staff down at his side ready for Castors' next move.
Castor spun bringing his blade upwards in a aggressive stance, his finger resting on the activation stub that sat nested in the ornate Not yet he thought to himself.
Both men stared at each other trying to predict the others next move, would they charge to put the other on the defensive or would they open themselves up to a charge only to parry and then launch their own retaliatory strike.
Castor was the first to act, he sprinted the twenty feet that now separated them in a split second. His form rearing up over Deitre, the sword flashing down. Deitre brought his staff up in a swift, sharp movement, blocking Castors' strike. Now both men where face to face, each being able to see the hate and determination in the others eyes. Both where struggling to gain the upper hand in this battle of brute force, neither being able to push the other back.
Then a silver flash caught Castors' eye. He had just enough time to drop away before the combat knife whistle past his forehead. Now Castor was on the defensive and he needed to get in to a position to put himself back on the attack but with Deitre bearing down on him he had little choice but to parry him away until that opportunity arose.
Another powerful blow knocked Castor to his knees, his sword arm was getting weaker, he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. The unrelenting assault by Deitre was just brutal, not allowing for a moment to recover. Once more the combat knife lashed out but this time Castor caught the blade with his own, while simultaneously grabbing Deitres' staff. Now both men were once again face to face, trying to force the other one into submission. With a deft flick of his wrist Castor forced Deitres' blade from his grasp. This gave Castor the upper hand but Deitre was not yet finished.
He let the his arm slack bringing the blade and staff close, brining Castor along with it. Deitre grabbed Castors' wrist stopping him from bring his blade to bear. Then he kicked up reversing their positions, now Castor was being forced into the ground by the weight of Deitre pushing down upon him. Slowly but surely the staff was coming down upon Castors' neck, soon Deitre would be able to strangle him with it, he had to act fast. Sudldenly he remembered Deitres' move from earlier, he let his lefty arm slack, while at the same time sliding out from under Deitre. As the staff slammed into the marble floor Castor unleashed a left hook that caught Deitre square in the jaw., knocking them apart.
Castor quickly scramble for his sword, at first fumbling to get a hold of the hilt loosing precious second doing so. When he eventually grasped the hilt he swung it round in a wide ark brining it down where he thought Deitre was. The sword clattered harmlessly off the solid floor, as soon as he realised he'd missed Castor instinctively rolled away just escaping Deitres' attack. He spun on his heals bringing the blade forward ready to strike.
He lunged for Deitre once more his blade being blocked by Deitres' staff. Deitre then forced castor back exposing his opponents ribs to a brutal kick, knocking the wind out of Castor. Castor now was on the floor one hand clutching his stomach while the other held on to his sword defiantly. He looked up to see Deitres' staff coming down on him in a wide, loping crescent towards Castors face. Castor just managed to roll out from under the attack. While the force of the attack buried the staff deep into the marble flooring.
Now was Castors chance, he rolled once more onto his knees brining him upwards to face his opponent once again. He took a deep breath before running straight at Deitre his sword shimmering with an unsaturated force. Deitre just managed to pull his staff from the floor before Castors sword connected. Both weapons met creating a almighty crash, just as Castor pressed down on the activation stub.
The shimmering blade shattered into hundreds of fluttering shards. Deitre reared up monomolecular sharps sheared through his carapace armour, punching right through his back. Deitre roared like a wounded animal, slashing widely at his opponent. Castor weathered the first few blows before rolling out from beneath Deitre. Castor stared at Deitre his face was gouged with deep red lines and his overcoat slowly stained a dark red. Almost as one the shards died and they fell to the floor.
Castor sat several feet away from Deitre breathing heavily, he was exhausted. Slowly he heard the ominous armoured footsteps of inquisitor Brouge. He looked over to see the inquisitor standing beside him, his hammer resting across both hands. Suddenly he saw the inquisitors' hands move tilting the shaft of the hammer towards him. He shut his eyes and prayed for the emperors forgiveness.
The sudden crack of steel upon marble jolted his eyes wide. To his right the shaft of the daemon hammer was embedded into the marble floor next to castor. Slowly he followed the shaft to see Brouges' hand outstretched gesturing to help the weary trooper up onto his feet. Castor gladly accepted the offer and was quickly upon his feet standing shoulder to shoulder with the inquisitor.
The inquisitor clapped his hands twice to signify the end of the dual. Soon both doors were opened to reveal to the others who had won the dual. Deitres' command squad were one of the hundred or so who rushed into the picture room as soon as the doors opened. Intent on congratulating their lord but once they saw him lying stricken upon the marble floor they immediately hurried over to to him. As they tended to his wounds Castor slowly walked over accompanied by his command squad. Both forces locked eyes and stared as Castor walked over to his once opponents squad.
He stared at them for a long second before brandishing their masters staff. He then proceeded to place it on Deitres' chest, as a sign of respect. With this the command squad respectively bowed before rushing off to tend to Deitres' injuries.
Castor slowly walked over to his command squad clutching his ribs as he walked, the fight had taken its toll on Castor. As he reached them his will failed and so did his ability to stand, stumbling he collapsed into the arms of his second. Shutting his weary eyes he knew that the emperor had chosen him as his champion and the emperor be dammed he would become the saviour of Khaml.
As he watched Castor being hurried off to a medic station, Brouge smiled. He knew he'd backed the better horse, from the start. Now all he had to do was hold down the fort while he recovered but first he'd pay another visit to Shaw and Elane. He strode off wandering how much longer the Angels of vengeance would be, because he knew soon the forces surrounding him would fail and only the pure ferocity of the Adaptus Astartes would be able so save their souls.
Primary EDITER: Magicmonkey
Secondry EDITER: Agriss
Writer: Fox Of 9
Hope you enjoy. all feedback welcome.