Board Thread:Warhammer 40k Roleplay/@comment-7974155-20141027112820/@comment-78.146.189.197-20141030161234

Garion's body was being impaled with a profusion of tried and tested holy tools of the emperor, and while every impaled stake physically hurt, the pain impulses where not being felt by the daemon but being passed on to Garion's psyche as a punishment for his continual attempts at defiance. despite the nerves of steel among those present they were all ill at ease as Garion was quietly chuckling through the entire impalement process.

the psychic pain was another matter though, this the daemon could not transfer, but... ''"such pain is of no concern to me Garion, quite unlike the pain you are being subject to. these fools are dangerously unaware of what they are attempting to imprison - the psychic pain from these 'holy' artifacts is no more than an irritating itch." ''although in truth the daemon was aware that extended exposure to these implements could sever his control over Garion.

what was left of Garion's mind had been blindly hoping that this ritual would succeed, and he was even enjoying the pain on some level believing it could lead to the salvation of his soul. the words and emotions of the daemon quickly disabused him of this notion and understanding what was about to happen he screamed *FLEE!!!*, his scream echoeing back upon itself in the vaults of his mind.

as the ritual seemed to have concluded with no apparent effect faces turned towards the Inquisitor, the Inquisitor in turn looking at Garion. as nothing continued to happen and tensions rose the Inquisitor saw a look of unadulerated terror momentarily suffuse garion's features as he whispered in a tone so low that only the Inquisitor heard it - "flee".

the daemon then began the process of de-impaling itself, moving at a slightly accelarated rate. starting with the legs it simply kicked them forward, the stakes remaining where they were as the legs were wrenched over the blunt, and fat, ends. his upper body still pinned, he tore both legs through the stakes at once, and connecting with the potential daemon-host's chin with his bare feet almost removed his head from his neck - the only things keeping it connected being the tendons in the back of his neck and his, now utterly shattered, spinal column.

with his feet beneath him again he then tore free both arms in the same way, over the impaling stakes. with a casual backhand he sent the Inquisitor sprawling, then taking hold of the collar in both hands tore it off - the daemon unable to hide from Garion the significant effort this required.

as the daemon-host flew backward, his head flapping loosely from its remaining bonds, and the Inquisitor was painfully sliding to a stop, everyone else stood in mute astonishment as Garion glared at them, arms, legs and head free, grinning unpleasently, as he walked forward, slowly, off the stakes through his chest.

Garion stood before them, clad in just a loincloth, with gaping holes all over his body, holes that would, should, render any astartes immobile, blood pumping furiously from each wound. however, to the ultra-senses of the astartes in the room they could see, or thought they could see, that the blood was already slowing, the wounds starting to look smaller...

OOC: ok, thanks badass (i think :P). i'm assuming you at least want the inquisitor to survive, but who else?