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Kerrigan watched her adept scurry to fetch her some recaff. The errand was an excuse to send him away before her bubbling frustrations bled into her mechatendrils. They had a history of taking drastic action when she was mad, and adepts shouldn't be wasted. Magos Kerrigan Sulyvahn turned back to the source of her ire.
Before her stood a huge door was embedded in a cliffside, the only exposed rock on this vast expanse of tundra. The massive slab of brass was so thick that it made no echo when struck. The door had no hinges, handles, or visible inscriptions, just bas-relief depicting endless whorls of chainblade-like teeth. She had no idea how it opened, but the Harrowmaster had been insistent that she find a way, and quickly. Not wanting to end her day impaled on a spear, she had set right to work.
The first step had been to push on it in the vain hope it was unlocked. When that didn't work she searched every crack and crevasse on the cliff for switches, keyholes, or any hint of a mechanism. After hours she'd found nothing and set about trying to force the door open.
Her forge hammer, which could crack tank armor, bounced off the door without making a dent. Next, she rigged the door with enough melta bombs to level a hab-block. Unfortunately, that only succeeded in burning away the verdigris from the carvings. Kerrigan began to grind her teeth while trying to think of a new plan.
"Do you require assistance Magos?" a refined voice crackled over her vox.
Kerrigan looked in the direction of the transmission. There, stark against the pale grey sky, stood the towering form of Gheist Slayer, Knight Desecrator of Lady Vakka. An enormous machine, covered in chains and spikes, it towered over the menials unloading supplies around its clawed feet. The machine was a tank killer, fitted with an enormous warpstrike claw on its left arm and a laser destroyer on its right. It was also the most powerful of the Harrowmaster's many assets, just what she needed to open this damned door.
"A laser blast into this door would be very helpful, Lady Vakka," Kerrigan voxed back.
"Of course Magos." came the reply. Kerrigan swore she could hear the woman licking her teeth in anticipation. Gheist Slayer's silhouette glimmered in emerald light as the laser destroyer powered up. A moment later a blindingly bright beam lanced overhead and impacted the door with a sound like thunder. Kerrigan had confidence that this would work. A laser destructor had enough power to strip void shields from titans. It should be able to turn this door to slag. But as the light receded, Kerrigan could only glare in amazement as the door stood unmarred before her.
"Another shot Magos? Maybe a blow from my fist?" Lady Vakka growled.
"I doubt either weapon will be effective. Let me get back to you."
"As you wish." The vox went dead.
Kerrigan sighed, realizing that she was going to have to do what she had been avoiding this whole time. Swallowing her pride, she pulled a heavy silver key from a pouch on her belt. On its head was a leering avian face with eyes of bright rubies, while its tail, in place of the normal key teeth, was a sharpened spike like an insect's stinger. It glittered unnaturally in the flat light of the tundra. Steeling herself, Kerrigan took a deep breath and jabbed the key into the palm of her hand.
It slid easily into her flesh and passed clean through her palm. Bright red blood welled up from the wound and climbed up key like creeper vines. It settled in the carved features of the key's head, which began to move and shift in response. The ruby eyes glittered like sparks as the key stretched open its beak and puffed smoke from its mouth. Kerrigan watched all this impassively, annoyed by the key's need for theatrics.
"Ah Magos Sulyvahn," the key said, its voice like the hiss of quenching iron. "Is it time to gift me your soul at last?"
Kerrigan spoke carefully despite the pain in her hand and the clawing feeling in her stomach. "No daemon," she said evenly. "I summon you for a question and per our agreement you will answer it." She phrased her question carefully, avoiding any hint of ambiguity. Using the key carried a cost, one that grew with each question asked. "Tell me, by what means does the brass door before me open?"
The key twisted in her hand, turning to look at the door with its ruby eyes. It studied it for a moment before turning back to her. "How simple," it giggled. "How foolish of you not to see the answer. But fear not, I will tell you if you release me from this prison. What say you?"
"No," Kerrigan replied firmly. "The terms of our bargain are unchanged. Now speak."
The key exaggeratedly rolled its ruby eyes and spit a puff of purple fire at her. "Very well," it huffed. "The door is opened by the pounding on it with bloody fists. No why don't you go and..." Kerrigan pulled the key from her hand, silencing the daemon before it could spew any lewd curses.
Kerrigan had her answer and looked again at the massive door. She thought of hitting it with her now wounded hand, which was conveniently drenched in blood from her use of the key. Such an action seemed too small to be effective. She needed something bigger to be sure the door opened. An idea occurred to her, and Kerrigan smiled.
"Lady Vakka," she said into her vox. "I shall require a blow from your warpstrike claw after all. Provided it is well coated in blood."
"Of course, Magos," came the grinning reply.