A slightly smaller Mess

*confused looks*

+A lot of men make that claim+

Lyanna follows

Laurence: "Let me pass." *Another gentle mental nudge*

+Let us prove it. Give us an objective. It will be taken.+

*Tyren's autocannon has not stopped spinning, he leads them into a wide cargo bay, where three people are waiting, clad in typical inquisitorial garb. A man, large framed, with a bolter cradled in his arms, a tall woman, who emanates a feeling of wrong, and another woman, with no visible weapons.*

Max: "...go on"

*they let him pass*

+So desperate to get our affection.... How adorable.+

Lyanna raises an eyebrow at the sight of them

+*He laughs, a rumbling baritone* Affection? No, Direction, and respect.+

*Laurence walks through, moving as high as he can get via the lift*

*The unarmed woman approaches them.* "You must be Lyanna, and tyren... and?"

Akira: "The heretic chapel we burned."

Max: "Reckon there's something there do we?"

Akira: "We might not have burned everything. A basement, a safe, something that says how to summon a daemon."

Max: "It's worth investigating"

+*chuckles* We'll see about that.+

*he goes up approximately one level, which is still quite far*

"That'd be us."

+Name a location, iron warrior. And watch it fall.+

*When the doors open he sees...*

Unarmed woman: "I wasn't told there would be three."

+....First, there is something you must do for us.+

*it basically appears to be a customs office, heavily guarded*

"You were told wrong"

Unarmed woman: "Well he said you'd be less than cooperative."

+I will consider your demand.+

Laurence: *Is mildly surprised, the heretics have some level of security. can he sense any psykers present?*

Lyanna: he knows us well enough.

+Will you now? How gracious.+

*he senses a good few. not especially powerful, but enough for basic detection jobs.*

+Give it then, let us stop bandying.+

Unarmed woman: "Well, Lets get you down to the surface."

*he walks forwards, out of the lift, still wearing the commander's face, and keeping his face*

+Our Champion is itching for a worthy adversary in single combat.... would you be willing to provide this?+

Lyanna: good. lets get this over with.

*he finds a line specifically for military personel*

+I would be happy to give him his challenge. To the death, i assume?+

*Laurence walks into the line*

*The beefcake of a bloke walks over to a cargo container, and opens it.* "In you go." *Inside the container is a set of straps, and lines of jump seats, that appear to have been taken from a military aircraft* "We'll get you strapped down my lord."

*the customs is pretty much what you'd get at a modern airport, but also with a psychic evaluation*

+Obviously+

"Oh, so you're smuggling us in?"

*Laurence constructs a psychic wall around his mind, having already suppressed his signature, of course. He pushes his own mind down into the recesses of his mind space, and begins to create a fictional one in the rest of it. only a skilled and powerful psyker would notice the tiny blocked area at the back of his mind.*

+*the figure rises from his throne* I accept the challenge. Where shall i meet your champion.+

*The unarmed woman replies, in a less than respectful tone* "Yes, because i don't want to walk a chaos warleader through customs."

they let him pass unmolested, not seeing through his disguise

+You will board our ship. We will lead you from there.+

Lyanna: I'm sure it would be an entertaining experience.

*He continues on, having a look at how houses are around this level*

+Perfect.+ *the vox feed is cut.*

"If you call having to execute an entire building, entertaining, sure."

*they're much more...civilised, although clearly not the upper class quite yet. still, a severe lack of all the downsides of the underhives, along with a lack of random violence*

............

lyanna just sighs as she gets in

*Tyren walks in, and stands in the middle of the box. The beefy man with a bolter walks in, and starts tying him down with ratchet straps.*
Unarmed woman: "Well sit your asses down we don't have all day."

*Laurence walks the area, looking for an empty house.*

*a cestus assault ram disengages from the ship, and flies towards the iron warriors ship*

She sits down, clearlynot trusting this lot

*there aren't any nearby*

the ship's weapons track the ram

*The ram is adorned with all the grisly trophies expected of khorne worshippers. Corpses chained to its sides, skulls pinned to it by heavy spikes. It continues its approach unabated.*

*The beefcake finishes strapping tyren down, and wanders back out.* "We'll hit planetside in about half an hour." *he tosses lyanna a vox handset.* "We'll keep you updated."

*Laurence looks around for any kind of, official looking building.*

*they continue to track its approach*

Lyanna just nods

*he finds a sign pointing him to the 'forum'*

*Goes for a landing run.*

*He closes the door, and it locks*

Tyren: "Well."

*Follows said sign*

they allow it

Lyanna doesn't say anything

*he sees a lot of people coming to and from the forum, on their daily routine no doubt*

*The ram sets down, and the ramps begin to lower*

Tyren: "Are you both alright?"

*Laurence leans against a wall, and picks through the stray thoughts of those passing. Getting a feel for what everyone is up to.*

several iron warriors are standing guard in the hangar

Lyanna: we're fine.

*they're just going about their day, fairly normally. surprisingly happy and well off by standard citizens.*

*Eight astartes walk down the ramps. The chapter master himself, as imposing as he appeared via pict feed, a chainfist on his right hand, and a power axe hanging by his hip. The once chaplain, clad in terminator armour, still bearing the skull mask of his office, and his crozius, undefiled or marked by chaos. The man could pass for loyal, if it were not for the smear of red-black blood across his helm, and the blasphemous writings in place of purity seals. Behind them, is an astartes in mark three iron armour, a relic of the chapter, he is unadorned as the brothers behind him are, his armour is the same colour as those dead marines who could be seen on the pict image, a deep blue, with black trim. But the wings of the aquilla upon his chest have been clipped, and a eight pointed star has replaced its head.*

Tyren: "Good... Good..."

*he dips deeper into one specific person, searching for any sign of the crushing oppression most civilians feel.*

*said mk3 iron armour is worn by about half of the legionaries that stand guard around them, the rest clad in mk4 maximus plate. However, while some of it is clearly very old, the rest is clearly relatively new, manufactured after the heresy, although nearly all bears some form of personal customisation. The patterns of weaponry they wield too, ancient in design, phobos bolters and such, but still clearly 'relatively' recently manufactured. There are also surprisingly few 'chaos' symbols amongst them, although the leering Iron Skull mask of the legion is prominent on each warrior*

Lyanna: what's wrong?

*he don't find it*

Tyren: "I do not... fully trust these people."

*Laurence stays there for some time longer. Quite dismayed, continuing to search in the thoughts of passers by*

*the chapter master steps forwards and speaks.* "Well then, warriors of iron. I have set forth my champion, set forth yours."

Lyanna: me neither.

*he does pick up on one thing. these people are all the same 'race'*

*a door slowly shifts open ahead of them, all dramatic like*

Tyren: "Laurence is one thing. His... 'Contacts' Is another."

*Laurence quietly nods to himself, and deliberately sculpts his features a little more, falling in line with the norm of these people, then walks towards the forum, copying the gate and mannerisms of the locals*

*the champion steps forwards into the open, a thunderhammer in hand, and a powersword at his hip.*

she sighs but nods.

*he finds essentially a city centre, bustling with activity. All sorts of shops, stalls, along with a large school, and of course the Basilica*

the figure who approaches seems fairly ordinary, not very different to the other iron warriors around him, save for the fact he is unarmed. "Lets get this over with"

*Tyren remains silent. As usual, his scarred sarcophagus giving off no indication of his thoughts*

*he walks towards the basilica.*

Champion: "You wish to fight bare handed?" *he swings the hammer into one hand, and rests it on the floor and leaves it, it stands up on its own* "So be it."

Lyanna puts a hand against his 'shoulder'

*from the sounds of it, something's going on in there*

"Come on, I haven't got all day"

*he moves his 'head' to look at her. and nods just a little*

*keeps walkin*

*The champion raises his fists, side on, shoulder first, moves in quickly and throws a left jab.*

Lyanna: we'll be alright.

*large commotion of people outside*

the other champion's hand moves very fast, catching the punch. midway through the move to catch it, his arm begins to shift and warp, taking the form of a power fist, so that when he catches the punch, his strength is so much that he doesn't even budge from the impact. "Pick up the hammer, tough guy, else you'll be my easiest kill yet."

*Laurence walks over to the crowd, and blends in its fringes, skipping through people in it, looking through their eyes to see what the fuck is going on*

Tyren: "I am sure we will..."

Champion: "Gifted, i see." *he pulls his fist from the warrior's hand, takes two steps backwards before he turns his back, and lifts the thunderhammer in one hand. holding it midway up its haft. he turns back to his adversary and grips the bottom of the haft with his left hand. in an eyeblink he takes two strides forwards and swings the hammer towards the warrior's head in an arcing downwards swing*

*meanwhile, back on charles' ship*

*apparently they're holding a trial for some imperial POWs*

the warrior raises his arms towards the swing. there is a clang as the hammer smacks harmlessly off of the storm shield that has formed out of his flesh.

*People were doing stuff, pertaining to things*

*Boy psyker be interested, he stays in the crowd, and listends, piggybacking someone in the front row's eyes and ears*

*The champion swings the hammer around towards his other side, with just as much speed and force as the first blow*

*who and what?*

Lyanna: come on big guy. We've made it this far.

*the POWs are definitely imperials. namely a small group of sororitas, captured alive in a recent battle*

*the same thing happens again*

Tyren: "I know, i just don't want to shoot our way out this time."

Laurence: *he watches, weighing the costs in his head, but he keeps coming up blank. No way he can get them through the warp alive. No rescue.*

*he swings in an arc downwards, letting go of the hammer's haft with his left hand halfway up its swing, and drawing the powersword, thrusting it into the warriors belly*

Lyanna: hopefully we won't have to.

*basically, what's happening is that the officials are debating, and getting the people's opinion on, the prisoners' fates. Forced into the amphitheatre seems to be the prevailing opinion*

he catches the hammer with the shield again, but allows the sword to hit home. it cuts through his armour into his flesh...and gets stuck, as his flesh seems to heal around it. His face now seems to shift and mutate....until the worrying form of a meltagun barrel emerges.

*what are the charges levied against them? Besides being imperial soldiers*

*The champion wrenches the sword to the side, against the flat of the blade, skewing the melta's aim, he steps around, dropping the thunderhammer, and wrapping his right arm around the warrior's neck, pulling the blade out, and ramming it back in, in a half stab, half sawing motion, he growls under his breath, the fury of combat seeping into his mind.* "Blooood...."

Tyren: "Therein lies the dream."

*Caiber was goin ta see Hakken if i remembers*

worshipping the 'great tyrant' seems to be top of the list

the wound does not bleed, although something is seeping from it. his arms swiftly turn into what look like lightning claws as he finally begins to attack, like a storm of stabs and slashes

Lyanna: we'll be okay. I promise.

*I think it was bandit first*

*the champion reels backwards, bleeding from a dozen cuts, managing to grab the hammer as he retreats*

*bandit it is*

*laurence waits until a verdict is reached.*

Tyren: *he looks at lyanna's daughter* "If shooting starts, get behind me."

the warrior slowly follows after him, his arms now shifting, seeming to be like normal arms but with power swords for hands

*where is bandit then*

*they decide on the amphitheatre, the crowd cheering at this*

"I can look after myself."

*Laurence whispers into the sisters minds* ~Loyal Sisters, do not be afraid. I am here for you.~ *He affects a gentle, fatherly tone, and washes their minds in the calming golden glow he can manifest.*

*Bandit is where bandit wants to be. Find him*

Tyren: "I'm bolterproof, you're not... Look, i respect your attitude, reminds me a lot of when i was young, but let the old timers take this."

*the champion takes ahold of the hammer with both hands, drops his shoulder and charges, swinging in a wide arc, but feinting before he hits, dropping the swing, and putting all of the force into a heavy straight kick to the warriors chest*

*on the whole they seem confused, but seem to chock it up to emprah*

*you're so helpful edd*

the girl just sighs

the hammerblow hits home, causing the warrior to be knocked back. he does not lose his balance for long however. he begins to chuckle, as two more arms sprout from his body, both tipped with power swords too, as the damage to his chest begins to reverse itself