Under this Sign (40K-Maladar)

[Imperial Overlord]

Hmm, I wonder what Mal has in mind exactly. it's a big deficet he has to overcome.

He's going to challenge a hundred million men to single combat and hack them down one by one by one by one by one by one. . . . . .

[Brain_Caster]

That plan could work. If we assume he needs 10 seconds to dispatch one opponent he should be done in just 32 years.
(Not including time for sleep and meals - but an Inquisitor of the GEoM doesn't need such idle distractions, anyway)

[Ford Prefect]

He's going to challenge a hundred million men to single combat and hack them down one by one by one by one by one by one. . . . . .

Brilliant. The tanks and training are nothing more than a clever ruse.

[White Haven]

Nonsense. They make quite effective melee weapons.

[Imperial Overlord]

Thousands teamed over the sunlight plain. The tall grass waved in a gentle breeze as the guests mingled on the side of and below the hill. Standing at the top was the Voivode Zoltan and the chieftains and ladies of the Mazenjar. Maladar stood among them, wearing a a long tunic of fur lined crimson sapphire silk under a tall collared crimson mantle. Gold glittered on the buttons and embroidered eagle designs.

Maladar fidgeted. Wedding finery was wasted on his death's head face, but it was necessary that he go through with it. "Here comes your bride," said Bodis."

A train of women in white lead Zsanett up the hill. She wore a gown of crimson silk and a matching shawl over her dark hair. As she approached Maladar could see that she was smiling as if she wasn't marrying a disfigured monster. Maladar couldn't help but grin at her spirit.

She bowed her head as she neared the top. An elderly heathen priest whose name Maladar couldn't remember, stepped forward wearing fur robes studded with amulets of silver and gold. "We are gathered here," he began, "to celebrate the marriage of this man and woman. Who is the groom?"

"I am," Maladar spoke.

"Will you take this woman into your tent? To provide for her, protect her, and honour her?"

"Yes," Maladar replied.

"Who is head of this woman's family?"

"I am," said Zoltan.

"Do you find this man worthy?"

"I do."

The priest turned to Zsanett. "Will you join this man's household? To honour him, bear his children, and maintain his household?"

"I do," she said softly.

"Then you are man and wife. May the spirits of our ancestors and the gods that favor men look after you."

The crowd erupted into cheers and the casks were broached. Smiling girls and boys brought out platters of food and the wedding feast began in earnest.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Night fell and the raucous celebration was dying down when the married couple entered their yurt. Zsanett entered first and held the tent flap open for her husband. She tied the flap closed behind him.

"My lord husband," she said bowing. "Our bed awaits." Maladar extended his arm and put in on her shoulder. She trembled. She kept her gaze steady.

"Do not fear," Maladar said gently. "You will not have to lie with me."

"My lord?"

He smiled. It wasn't a pretty thing, even in the dim lighting. Blood ran from her face. He, Maladar, showing mercy. It was the right thing to do, politically, but it felt . . . . good to spare her.

"I am not like most men," he replied. "My tastes are . . . cruel. I would not harm you." She shivered. He stroked her cheek. "I do not care if you take lovers, as long as you are discrete. I cannot be seen to lose face." He smiled again, realizing the ghastly pun. "Not that I have much of that. I need you to keep secrets, but I think you can do that. Beyond that, I care little. You will be well treated, my word on that."

"My lord -"

"Hush. Don't speak now. I am retiring to bed. Think on what I have said and we shall speak again on this when you have had time to digest it." The inquisitor stripped off his wedding clothes clumsily and hung it on a stand with the same care he did with his battle armour. His nude body was too muscular to be called lean, grace and power in one lethal package. Endless scars, some faded, some not, crisscrossed his body. The worst were visible in the dim light.

Maladar lay down upon the mattress and pulled up the fur covers. Zsanett removed her gown to reveal her own long legged beauty. She joined her husband beneath the covers. She moved close to him. "Does my nearness offend you, my lord?"

Maladar felt the pleasant heat of her body and his flesh began to stir. There was something about her that drew him to her, something besides the political calculations and the urge to ravage her flesh. He invoked his biomancy powers and subdued the surge of lust. "I find you very pleasant, my wife," he said and there was truth in that. He closed his eyes and soon drifted off into sleep.

[Ford Prefect]

Aww, Maladar, you great big softy you!

[Imperial Overlord]

The council of war consisted of a score of generals standing around a huge and precisely detailed map. The autarch and a half dozen high officials of his inner court were also in attendance. Maladar didn't pay attention to the map, he was quite aware of the positions upon it. Instead, he studied the autarch.

The autarch's gaze lingered on the map. He was not pleased and he had no reason to be. Minor independent fortresses and cities formed a defensive barrier of almost worthless and well defended border statelets between the Autachracy and the sprawling empire of the Shazu.

Maladar allowed the generals to debate and make their points. They argued in favor of border defences or mobile forces. Old debates about how long and at what cost the Shazu could force a passage through the mountain chains, arguments old and oft repeated on the Shazu's atomics and air power and what a difference they could make. Maladar said nothing at all. The autarch's gaze flickered over his generals as the old arguments were repeated over again. Increasingly, his attention came back to Maladar. The Inquisitor said nothing.

An officer of human norm descent entered the room and whispered a report to one of the generals, a man almost as big and scared as Maladar appeared to be. The general nodded and new regiments of western slave troops were added to a port city. Maladar didn't allow the new intelligence to phase him at all. His demeanor remained carefully blank.

Finally, the autarch addressed him. "Your opinion, Maladar?"

"You have heard many strategies about how to lose," said Maladar. The generals stirred angrily. "Your enemy possesses atomics, air power, and vastly superior numbers. He is opening territories on a new continent. When he attacks you, he will win."

"And your suggestion?" scoffed one of the younger generals, a dark haired man even larger than Maladar. "Attack them? Fight our way through the passes and somehow overcome a forewarned army?"

"Exactly," said Maladar. "Forcing the borders will be easy and striking at their airfields will give us local air superiority. Then we will defeat them in battle and drive for a crucial campaign target." He tapped the map. "The Hellforges at the Kataru Dam. We need our own atomics and to limit their supply."

"The Shazu have ten times our numbers," said the scarred general.

"Yes," replied Maladar. "And nearly half of them are employed in conquering rich new territories over seas. They are committed, but time is not on our side. Every year means more troops being sent back, more territories exploited. It will guarantee their eventual domination of this planet, but at this moment it represents a sink for their resources and manpower. If the north is to triumph, it must attack soon."

Grumbling and glares came from the generals, but no counter arguments. "I take it your new army is going to deliver those border fortresses to us and win those crucial battles?" the Archon asked.

"No," said Maladar. "It will win the battles. Diplomacy will win the borderers to our side."

"You are confident of this?"

"As long as your intelligent reports are accurate, yes I am."

"If I do this, the fate of my realm rides on your shoulders."

"The Imperium has entrusted the fate of planets to me. I have yet to fail the Emperor. I will not fail you."

"Assemble the army. If you can convince the borderers to give you passage, then it is yours."

Maladar bowed slightly in acknowledgement and left the room.

"My Autarch," the younger general began. "He is preying on your hope. He promises the impossible."

"Falling from the stars is impossible," said the Autarch. "Victory over the Shazu is merely almost impossible." After that, there was silence.

[Sidewinder]

Should I assume that NO Imperial support will come to Maladar until AFTER this planet is conquered, which means the Inquisitor must think circles around the Shazu General Staff's minds to win? How long will that take? A decade?

[Imperial Overlord]

Should I assume that NO Imperial support will come to Maladar until AFTER this planet is conquered, which means the Inquisitor must think circles around the Shazu General Staff's minds to win? How long will that take? A decade?

Well, the Imperium arriving will kind of suck the tension out of the story and lead to a fairly predictable state of affairs.

"Sir they have amassed a titanic army!"

"Blast them from orbit and then bomb them flat. If there's anything left standing, run a Leman Russ over it."

Not really a lot of suspense or challenge in that.

[Ford Prefect]

Excellent, Maladar's back, and approaching the climax.

[Imperial Overlord]

Excellent, Maladar's back, and approaching the climax.

Actually the story is moving out of its beginning phase and into the middle. The Shazu aren't going to roll over and die, even for Maladar.

[Raj Ahten]

Alright! I was afraid this story might have been dead or in a nearly endless exile. Any chance of any updates for In Memoria anytime soon?

[Imperial Overlord]

Alright! I was afraid this story might have been dead or in a nearly endless exile. Any chance of any updates for In Memoria anytime soon?

Yes.

[White Haven]

Just in case I never mentioned this, when I log into the Fanfics forum, I generally glance at the list for updated threads from you and Stravo, and wander off if I don't find any. Highly awesome work, as always.

[Vehrec]

One thing I like about this is that it adds layers of subtlety and skill to the previously one dimensional tactics used by Maladar. He still likes the hammer, but we're now seeing his skill at using other tools. We are also getting to see him as a leader of men, not as just a plain inquisitor rushing from planet to planet to smash the latest Xeno, heretic or daemon incursion. I would imagine that the Emperor had many such men, and he would have sent them out ahead of him to win victories on many a world durring the Great Crusade. Prehaps these kinds of missions were the first ones of the Inquisition.

It might take 50 years, but I have faith in the powers of the inquisitor in these matters. He will conquer the Shazu.

[Imperial Overlord]

Arnadar Salk, King of Brinjanar and absolute ruler of his small little realm bolted awake in his bed. Both of the concubines next to him were still sleeping and the room was dark. A faint breeze came from his window, stirring the curtains of his four poster bed. He was not alone, he could feel it. There, sitting in the chair next to the tiger skin rug.

Arnadar reached for the bell cord that would send men storming into his chamber, but his arm was numb. He tried to call out but his voice was gone. Blood dribbled from Arnadar's nose into his beard as Maladar rose from the chair.

The inquisitor wasn't wearing his powered armour, but was wearing coal black tunic and pants over armour mesh for stealth reasons. A simple Condor overflight had allowed him to descend via parasail, with some telekinetic nudges, to the palace roof and then drop in through the king's window. It had gone as smooth as silk. He had put a half dozen potentially troublesome people to sleep with some gentle telepathic pressure, but that was the closest thing to a problem that he had encountered. "Don't bother trying to call for help. You can't and even if it came they wouldn't be able to help you."

"Who-" he managed to whisper.

"I am a servant of the Autarch. Your life is in my hand. It is your choice how the next part goes."

"And my choices are?" asked the monarch. He was afraid, not because he was a coward but because he was over matched. Arnadar was of warrior blood and he was only beginning to go to fat. At nearly two meters tall and a squat build, he was still a formidable warrior.

"You can feign obedience and die," said Maladar. "You can defy me and die. In either case I will then kill your oldest two sons and make my offer to the third, who is a coward and will agree to anything I propose. Or you can swear to be my vassal and through me the Autarch's servant. You will retain your lands and holdings and pay no tithes or taxes. Your only duties will be to guard the pass against the enemies of Autarch and permit his armies to pass through."

"You are asking me to be another man's servant."

"A man who will let you continue to rule in your own house. The alternative is death and the fall of your dynasty. Choose." Maladar forced his consciousness into the mind of king.

There was a brief wall of resistance that crumbled under Maladar's invasion. He was immersed in a swirling sea of fear, anger, and spite. Then a wave of resignation washed over him and his consciousness floated through it. "You win."

"Then swear." The king glowered back at him. And then knelt.

"I don't know your name."

"Maladar."

"I swear to serve Maladar as his loyal vassal and to render fealty to the Autarch of All Men." Waves of hatred boiled off him, but he was accepting it. He would begin scheming soon, but that was to be expected.

"Rise," said Maladar. "Your eldest sons will be joining me on campaign and you will be departing to personally convey your vow to the Autarch and receive his confirmation of your position."

"Do you truly think my court will stand for it?"

"Ask the Siskani," Maladar replied. Arnadar blanched. Fear overrode hatred and rage. "I walked into their city, slew their leader, and walked out. What makes you think you could possibly fare better?" Maladar pushed a compulsion of obedience into the fallen monarch's mind. It would make him more biddable in the short term, and that's only how long he really needed it to last.

He failed to mentioned that he intended to bring much of the Brinjanar's army with him, but the king didn't really need to know that now. Maladar was going to need every soldier he could get his hands on soon and being driven back to the mountain passes would be a disaster so defending them wasn't a priority. After all, one didn't win a war hiding behind walls.

[Ford Prefect]

"Ask the Siskani."

The Siskani thing was awesome. I just thought I'd mention that again.

[Imperial Overlord]

Fighting aircraft were a rare and valuable commodity. Most of the Shazu's precious flying machines were committed to the war of conquest across the seas. Their monopoly of the air was one of the many advantages they enjoyed in their war of conquest and why despite strange rumours coming from the Northern Domain, they were complacent in their sense of superiority. To be attacked from above was unthinkable.

Bars of light blazed their way through the night sky. The control tower toppled as the blood red beams destroyed the base. Another pair of beams struck one of the great flying wing aircraft sitting on the field. The craft, it wings bereft of the rockets it carried into combat, still carried ammunition for its cannons and some fuel in its tank. Metal flash heated to vapor where the laser beams struck and fuel ignited. A ball of fire rose into the sky. The Condors passed over and turned around for another pass. When they departed minutes later there was nothing but ruin behind them.

They passed over their second target on their way home, a border fortress overlooking the pass through which the armies of the Northern Dominion must cross in order to reach Shazu. Bomb mounts had been added to their wings by their tech priest attendants. New software-psalms had been written to allow for reasonable accurate bombing runs and then tested and corrected during after a few test runs. Canisters of poison gas fell from the sky on the sleeping fortress and burst one hundred meters above the the ground and a mere thirty meters above the fortress's tallest tower.

Nerve gas seeped down into the room, halls, and courtyards. Only a minority died, but most where made seriously ill by the poison. They very few able bodied were overwhelmed with trying to deal with the sick and the dead when northern armies began to march in the morning. There were far too few to hold the pass against so many, not even enough to make a decent stand. They fled or surrendered.

Maladar dispatched a small garrison to hold the fort and then unleashed his cavalry. One hundred thousand men and women plunged in the countryside of the northern provinces, striking swiftly and without warnings. They massacred patrols and seized supplies, capturing villages and plantations. An army was a monster of unlimited appetite and much of the bounty of the northern provinces would now go in the maw of Maladar's beast.

Along with supplies his cavalry sent back reports refining Maladar's knowledge of the land he was going to fight over. The only aerodrome in the north was now destroyed, leaving him with air superiority unless fighters from the south or across the sea were moved over. He doubted that would happen swiftly.

Another crucial piece of information was that of the enemy troop movements. Battle wagons were slow and prone of breakdowns, making any army that used them sluggish. The artillery and the elite heavy infantry that was the core of the army were also slow moving. In this war their would be no swift marches or swift striking spearhead. Not yet at least.

The army of Warlord Kazu-Cheng was on the march. Three million fighting men with that many again attendant slaves in supporting position and probably another million working in the supply train. Kazu-Cheng could have assembled a larger force if he had called upon garrison forces and waited for them to arrive, but he was not inclined to do so. His overlord would be displeased enough as it was. The armies of the Northern Domain were not the only ones that needed to eat and much of the harvest that was heading towards the stomach of Maladar's soldiers was already marked for use by the Shazu.

Against this force Maladar had his million men, plus the allies he had bullied into joining this expedition and the bound-thralls who made up much of his supply chain and did much of the logistics duties. Every day more supplies and more troops came through the gap, but time was not on his side.

In all the world their were only two places known where the hellsmiths lived and still practiced their arts. Only two places that could produce atomics and both in the hands of the Shazu. One was in the deep south, near their capital. The other was in the north, at Hellspite. If Maladar struck hard and swiftly, it could be his. He intended it to be his. Kazu-Cheng was moving to block any advance on it.

Maladar was not concerned. He expected to fight against superior numbers through much of the campaign. While it was not literally true that the Shazu had a billion men under arms, their army was great. For the moment, however, much of it was committed to fighting over the sea and their navy strained to keep the supply lines open. There were great riches over there, but still great resistance. Now, when the Shazu were already feeling the strain but had not yet begun to fully exploit their prizes, was the time to strike.

His only concern was the number of new weapons and machines he had at his disposal. Only the core of his army was requiped and trained and that would tell. He would just have to win anyway.

He stepped out of his tent. "Vuul!" he shouted.

"Yes, lord?" said the bald general.

"Ready the men to march," said Maladar.

"My lord, we are not yet-"

"Time has its own demands. Kazu-Cheng has proven once again he is no fool when it comes to war, no matter how badly he may have bungled things at court. We cannot wait for more troops. What we have is sufficient to defeat him anyway."

"Your will, my lord." Vuul saluted and turned to lesser officers and began to get the ball rolling. Soon an ocean of blood would be spilled. Maladar flexed his fists in joyous anticipation.

[Utah Jak]

Excellent story. Can't wait for more.

[Imperial Overlord]

Ten thousand banners fluttered in the wind as the autarch's army marched. Fifty thousand men rode in front as their vanguard, leading them over the rolling hills and fertile plains. Terror rode with them.

Marching up from the south were the invincible forces of Kazu-Cheng. A thousand skull tipped lances were at the forefront of his army, promising death to all who did not bow in obedience. Behind the great mass of men came his artillery and siege train and behind them his excruciators. The insolent and disobedient were made into horrors that were barely recognizable as men and then crucified onto trees in the armies wake. To resist Kazu-Cheng was to give yourself over to hell. Such was the will of the warlord and so it had always been.

The cavalry of the two great armies found each other and clashed. The superior tactics and weaponry of the northerners shattered the Shazu warriors, leaving their corpses and those of their steeds strewn all over the earth. The few survivors retreated in dismay, their ranks winnowed by automatic weapons. The northerners pressed their advantage and found the exact location of the great Shazu horde.

They returned to report back to Maladar. The inquisitor considered his maps and his reports and gave his orders. His army marched swiftly, at least by the standards of such an army, driven forth by his iron will. Within two days the great dark mass of the Shazu were visible. Battle was imminent.

Maladar's march allowed him to secure a series of rolling hills in which to emplace his rocket batteries and heavy guns. The mighty Kazu-Cheng was not pleased to see that his enemy had secured an advantageous position, nor did the slaughter of his cavalry please him, but he was not dissuaded. Heavy infantry was the heart of his army and he possessed more than to make the difference. The enemy also possessed fewer heavy guns and battle wagons. Their annihilation was inevitable. His army marched towards the field of battle.

Maladar sent a telepathic signal through the warp, relaying their location and attack orders to an adept of the Eyes of Fire deep in the Northern Domain. He turned to his commander of cavalry, the Voivode Zoltan. "Scatter their cavalry. Then attack their flanks and rear. Kill them all."

"Understood Maladar."

"Good hunting." Zoltan nodded and acknowledgement and rode over to his troops. Maladar turned to the rest of his troops and began to see to their deployment and positioning. It would be several hours yet before the main forces clashed.

--------------------------------------------------------

The autarch's cavalry rushed through the long grass, over the hills, an between the trees towards their Shazu counterparts. Here and there they made contact, the northerners sliding off their horses and going prone or taking cover. Their long barreled automatic rifles outranged the Shazu carbines quite badly and the fearsome rate of fire scythed through their foes. The killed, reloaded, mounted up, and moved on again.

Kazu-Cheng's superior numbers were beginning to diminish and he was being denied intelligence about the disposition of Maladar's forces. Still, one could not hide a million men, especially when many of them were arrayed at the top of hills in hastily assembled position. Kazu-Cheng could see enough and cavalry was his least valuable fighting arm. He ordered the attack to begin.

[Chris OFarrell]

"Wipe them out. All of them"

Awesome kick ass stuff here. Let the battle begin!

[Imperial Overlord]

As Maladar's cavalry was engaged in a brutal contest of fire and maneuver with their counterparts in Kazu-Cheng's army, the sleek, dark forms of the Condors darted overhead. Data was linked to Maladar, allowing him to display what they saw on his helmet autosenses and giving him an unequaled view of the battle. Brilliant lances of ruby light flashed from the Condor's guns, causing battle wagons to brew up in great columns of smoke and flame as the deadly craft circled the battlefield. After finding their targets, both Condors moved into position for an attack run.

Bombs dropped from their wings and bellies as they overflew the Shazu's artillery. They burst in mid-air, suffusing the area with a promethium based mist, before the secondary charge detonated. Huge fiery clouds smashed men and machines like the fists of an angry god. In a few brief seconds, tens of thousands of men had been killed or injured and countless machines damaged or ruined. The Condors circled around for another strafing run, their las cannons adding to the devastation. Then they departed, destroying another four battle wagons in a strafing run before flying off north.

Maladar activated his vox. Vacuum tube radios followed his subordinate commanders around, allowing him to direct his army while remaining near the front lines. "Enemy battle wagons and artillery is the priority for all guns and rockets. Our battle wagons are to engage enemy infantry. Tanks are to kill enemy battle wagons. We will hold the position. I will kill the first man to advance passed me. They will come to us."

Maladar was correct. Tens of thousands of men were nothing to Kazu-Cheng. He had already accepted such losses from his skirmishers and he could easily accept such losses from his artillery men. It did not please him, nor did the loss of so many battle wagons when he was already short. His army had been stripped of much valuable equipment to send to the forces fighting overseas. Now he had to advance upon enemies that held the high ground.

Kazu-Cheng did not fear failure. His most precious, reliable, and deadly force was his warrior-bred heavy infantry and they had only suffered light casualties. Their were many blooded veterans in their ranks and they alone outnumbered the enemy by more than two to one. Victory was his. He had just been hoping the butcher's bill would be lighter.

The great mass of Kazu-Cheng's army moved across the plain to engage Maladar's host. A thousand guns opened up on them and a volley of ten thousand rockets shrieked into the sky towards them. Some missed, going off course or falling short. They blew geysers of dirt into the sky. Some of the others did not detonate, becoming merely large and lethal projectiles. The rest blew apart flew and steel while sending out waves of lethal shrapnel. Thousands died or were seriously wounded. The rest marched on. Crews attended their weapons, reloaded, and fired again. Kazu-Cheng's weapons answered in kind, although their numbers were merely a fraction of Maladar's. Hundreds of men died in their opening volley.

As the heart of Kazu-Cheng's army grew nearer, Maladar's tanks picked their targets and opened fire. Their superior optics and long barreled guns allowed them to strike harder and further against enemy tanks. The huge battle wagons were easy targets. They began to pick them off. Soon the Shazu were leaving a trail of burning vehicles as well as dead bodies as they continued their advance.

The tanks switched over to high explosive shells and joined the much larger battle wagons, who were equipped with huge, short muzzled guns and festooned with heavy stubbers, in firing on the infantry. The Shazu army shed its dead and kept on coming. The shorter ranged artillery pieces and stubbers were opening up now, but the crude powered armour was excellent protection against flying slugs and a good defence against shrapnel. The heavy infantry was just too damned hard to kill.

The rocket guns opened up as the infantry closed. "Advance!" Maladar shouted, his voice booming. He himself held a rocket gun and he pointed it at the enemy and fired. The bulky weapon held a six shot clip of rockets. Their motors blazed smoky contrails through the air and struck with great force, sometimes penetrating the heavy armour of their targets. Hits that didn't penetrate cracked and weakened the armour. The slaughter was terrible as nearly two million men closed on each other with intent to kill.

Maladar's infantry rode at the flanks of the great horde. A small detachment, ten thousand men, rode up to finish off any surviving artillery men and cut of the Shazu line of retreat. The rest, fifty thousand men, dismounted and drew their weapons. Some of them had the autoguns forged under the instruction of the tech priests. They began firing them and others joined in with their less accurate carbines. The bullets could not penetrate the heavy plates, but all but Maladar's armour had gaps on arms and legs only protected by leather or mail where bullets and shrapnel could bite. They opened opened on the sides of the Shazu army. More men fall.

The tanks and the battle wagons continued firing, their stubbers and cannons killing. At close quarters the infantry could overwhelm them, power assists allowing them to break tracks and pry open hatches, so the war machines were limited to fire support. They reaped a dreadful toll.

Not every cavalry man was armed with a rifle. Several had bronze tubes lashed to their saddles and other carried ammunition for the rocket launchers. The formed into teams and launched volley after volley of explosives into the Shazu ranks. The carnage was terrible. Shazu rocket guns sent fire back into their ranks, but he cavalrymen were spread out and taken care to minimize their exposure. Hundreds died instead of thousands.

The front lines were close now. Kazu-Cheng's men were under dreadful pressure and had taken fearsome losses, but they had not broken. The rockets didn't have enough space to accelerate fully and so the guns had been stowed. Axes, maces, and crude chain weapons were now gripped in armoured hands. Under other circumstances they would come to grips with their foe and slay them all. Maladar had different plans.

The inquisitor thrust his hands forward and spread his fingers. A hundred branches of lime green lighting struck the mass of advancing Shazu warriors, charring flesh and causing power packs to burst in blinding flashes of light. A score of blackened corpses fell. The signal was given.

One in three warriors in the front ranks carried an unusual weapon, a gun connected by a tube to tanks on his back. These warriors brought their weapons to bear. Flames jetted out, engulfing the front ranks of the Shazu, the burning liquid splashing into the gaps of their armour and roasting them alive in their steel and ceramite shells. The Shazu were brave men, but this was more than they could bear. They faltered.

The dragons breathed again and more men fell screaming. Maladar charged through the flames and was immersed in burning fuel. The Shazu fell back from the monstrosity before them as Maladar trampled the dead and dying underfoot. The lightning claws slid out of his gloves as he came to grips with the survivors, the blades glowing a soft blue and humming eerily.

He tore half of a skull off and pulled out a heart. Blood sprayed and gore flew as Maladar killed. The Shazu were completely demoralized and their ranks were in disarray. They crumbled completely when struck by the Domain's charge. Weapons rose and fell and the dying were trampled as the autarch's men pushed forward. The Shazu began to run.

They were slaughtered in droves. They were killed by battle wagons and by infantry. Maladar killed all he could come to grips with. Even those who escaped their closest pursuers found themselves caught in a ring of steel. The cavalry men shot them and harried them until they fell. The army of Kazu-Cheng died, although the killing of it took another two hours. A handful of men managed to escape. Behind them a million throats shouted one word. "Maladar! Maladar! Maladar!"

[Ford Prefect]

Kill! Crush! Destroy!

[Chris OFarrell]

I get this image like from 'Gladiator' when Maximum showed who he really was to the Emperor and he walked off to a reprise of 'The Battle' with everyone chanting 'Maximus! Maximus! Maximus!' around him.

I can see that happening here with Maladar stomping forward over the charred remains of his foes and everyone chanting him on...

[Vehrec]

It's like watching a battle that's fought by half spartans, half Imperial Guard, and half Space Marines. It's wierd, but it's good.
Maladar remains true to his type: Brutal, a hammer that smashes the enemy. Although I don't know if he's ever been popular before. When he leaves this planet, it may be with an army of Guard at his back. SUPERGUARD! Oh and a wife too. Jolan won't recognize him at first.