Crimson Fists With A Twist

[Munting]

Unsure of this last bit, c+c needed.

 

Azran, Apothecary Zigorlie And Muntithoras, the new command squad of the 5th. Muntithoras needed three more members and today, a number of neophytes were about to reach initiate status- the rebuilding of the Crimson Fists since Rynns World had been underway. Muntithoras remembered his own promotion into Company Champion, he had barely served a 6 months as an Initiate. In honour of Zagoras’ faith in him and Hazingous’ acceptance of him into command squad, Muntithoras had decided to choose his Company Champion from the new initiates- something highly unorthodox in the opinion of many of the marines he had asked for consul when deciding upon this.

 

They were a wild bunch, these soon to be initiates, full of the impetuous of youth Muntithoras smiled, he was still youthful himself. In the centre of the room a duelling circle had been marked out, the neophytes were to try and disarm Azran, who had been personally overseeing the recruitment of new initiates into the 5th, this task was of course impossible, Azran was a full marine honed in battle for nearly a century and he was as gifted in battle as his scarred face showed. If only Muntithoras own scars were so honourably, they still burned his skin despite being covering in blessed cloth.

 

Azran had bested the first 7 of the 10 neophytes with ease, Muntithoras knew he was already thinking which would be promoted immediately and which would remain as scouts for the time. The 8th one, under the name as Verden stepped into the ring, drawing the practice sword he had chosen. Muntithoras frowned, he had chose a practice sword to fight against a Azrans practice staff, a poor choice surely. The long staff Azran deuled with would provide greater reach, the staff was a deliberate choice it would be nigh impossible to be disarmed even by another full brother marine, the length of the staff meaning it could be used to block and attack on both sides as well as providing a larger grip than the sword.

 

Muntithoras however was open to the young marines fighting style, the sword after all would be the weapon his company champion would wield.

 

Verden immeaditly was on the attack, going for Azran’s left shin, a poor move that was easily deflected with the side of the staff. Azranw anted to finish this ones attack quickly and with immense speed moved the right side of the staff towards Verden’s sword hand, but his attack was denied in the haste of the movement he had failed to notice Verdens off-hand reach out and grab the staffs hilt, int hemiddle of it next to Azran’s own crimson fist. With a skill none thought he process the Neophyte shifted his weight twisting the staff to an awkward position, its shaft bending under the force of two marines. Quickly bringing his sword down he smacked the hilt off Azran’s hand that was next to his own off hand.

 

More out of surprise than harm, and more out of instinct than fright Azran let go of the blade, preferring to take his hand away from a weapon raised against him. Cursing himself, he realized the neophyte had used the Marine’s training against him- Azran, an ex assault marine relied on speed and moving himself out of an enemies weapons reach when in close quarters before counter attacking. Muntithoras smiled, so Verden was full of suprises, no one had expected him to win.

 

Verden, tired from the fight looked at him, pushing his long black hair out of his face he smiled, “Theres more in a fight than just your own weapon Sir.”

[Alys Dwr]

a few gramatical errors:

 

End of 2nd paragraph 'covering' should be 'covered'

mid 3rd paragraph 'against a Azrans' the a isn't neccessary

2nd from last paragraph 'a skill none thought he process' should be 'possesed'

 

I'm sure there was another but i can't find it again, might just be me. The fight has a lot of potentila in it i think you could expand upon, at the moment it seems over in the blink of an eye. I understand you are emphasising the speed of an assault marine and all but i think a bit more action is called for. Maybe have another neophyte before Verden showing promise then making a complete hash of things - "still a bit too full of youthful exhuberance, maybe next time".

 

And the last line doesn't feel right. It could either be changed to have Verden showing a bit more respect for Azran (handing the staff back to Azran with his head bowed), or leaving as is and use as the basis for Verden's personality. "He's arrogant because he know's he is good, and you can't fault him for it", something along those lines.

 

Overall it's still good to read. Might also need a new pargraph at the beginning, having the command squad return from their engagement and making their way through the surgical steel corridors of the battle barge to the room where the neophytes await.

 

Al

[Munting]

Thanks Alot :)

Was rushed tbh, pc problems :/

I really want to write for th black library lol so all this is practice :)

[Munting]

Short unrelated piece. Soon i plan on doing a piece written from a Krieg trooopers view and Valhallans, and one of these may possibly be sent to the Chapters fleet for training as a marine.

Also UNFINISHED.

 

Kragen slammed another magazine into his bolter, and took down another traitor, before his exploded body had touched the ground his brother sergeant Zelent was amongst the rest. His glimmering power fist a beacon to all of the faithful, the Crimson Fist’s assault caused the Valhallans to take heart. Lasfire erupted as the depleting platoons mounted another assault, the water tower would be taken tonight, and under Muntithoras’ command the city would be theirs before the new moons of Selene.

 

Zelent raised his fist, a signal for a missile launcher, words needn’t be said in his squad, for 350 years he had lead them, trained them, with a single purpose. The Emperor’s work. Krak shots rang out at a hastily set up field defence, its rockcrete and ceramite works crumbling before the onslaught. Phoenen, running with the Valhallans drew his flamer, the purity seals he obsessed over covered his body their crimson and bone constructions billowing in the speed of his run. The bunker was broken, but they were not victorious Brother Nelenent fell next to Kragen. A hot shot round had taken him through the head.

 

Frantically searching for the target, a sniper could spell the end of the Imperial assault, Kragen looked. Stain glass windows, casting yellow, scarlet and golden light upon the vile traitors that had taken the city revealed a simple shillohete. One a lesser marine may not have picked up, never mind a human of the guard- presenting a skilled opponent. Short and skinny, 5 and a half foot at the maximum, Kragren guessed, in an opponent so small the optimal damage area was the stomach- such thoughts sped through Kragens mind instinctively, two shots and the sniper would be down.

 

Reinforcements clad in dirty red work suits ran from the street to the east, preparing to flank the assault Phoenen was heading, his acute senses heard their clumsy foot falls, chaos militia. His body dived into them crushing one under his fall and promethium quickly sprouted burning the militia in its cleansing light, the flamer had been deemed the Emperors Deliverance. In other chapters this would have been considered almost heretical, a blasphemy but the members of the 5th Company had saw it’s effects first hand and knew it deserved such a title.

 

Yet in any other Chapter they would be first company, veterans from battles before Rynn’s World. They had amazed the Valhallans that had mobilised to take the city, their singular squad spear heading an assault that had gained little in three weeks. The moral effect was amazing, the guardsmen around Kragen personified the battle hymns he learnt as a neophyte, filled with the Emperor’s Vision their lines were strong and their las rounds shot down treacherous scum after treacherous scum.

[Munting]

Feedback?

[Munting]

Mareen, Valhallan Corporal, was awe struck at the Astartes, he had heard of them, but they really were the Emperor personified. Their assault had allowed his platoons to take three times more land in a day than had been taken in three weeks. What left him further in awe was that only ten of them were attached to this engagement. One- the fastest he had seen, was now even scorching a whole squad of militia.

 

But, most striking of all was their silence. Their warriors communicated through hand actions, his guard just followed their lead. Mareen imagined the Godly figures celebrated on the millions of worlds the Imperium, they did not disappoint. 7 feet tall, in their massive ceramite power armour, equipped with guns that even he would have difficulty to lead, clad with ancient artefacts, covered in purity seals celebrating their great deeds. Mareen lent his bolt pistols barks to the withering storm of the marines fire. Next to him firing one handed, a marine whose right arm ended in a metal stood, killed several traitors. His handicap, could not even be called a handicap, the marines fire wa shaving a larger effect than the fire of ten of his Valhallans.

 

Brave lads one and all, but these, these Astartes were the true fists of the Emperor, their force braking his enemies. In a way it was terrifying, they were as far away from humanity as the mysterious aloof Eldar or the brutal Orcs, and yet they were at home within the Imperial lines. An Iron Warrior had led this planet into rebellion, and rumours amongst his boys indicated that that was the reason for the Crimson Fists involvement. Mareen was stirred from his thoughts as a huge royal blue arm gripped him, despite its strength it was delicate but it still winded him. Spittle and air plodded fromh is mouth as the marine dived.

 

The heat was unbearable, in his other hands the marine fired promethium over a squad. Mareen, confused felt the ceramite armour of the marine, on his shoulder pad a hot shot round has pierced its border, singing purity seals covered in high gothic rhymes; he realized the marine had saved him from a sniper. Through out his recollections he failed to notice another of the giants shooting at a window on the enimeies side of the street.

 

Mareen’s bolt pistol emptied a full clip into the enemies lines that assaulted his saviour, he drew an ornate auto pistol awarded to him by a Warmaster on some distant battle field and emptied more fire in to the line of flesh in front of him. The Imperial attack was faltering, and then suddenly heavy bolter fire erupted from a marine tank to his left, rushing down a heavy assault ramp that had crushed a traitor guardsman in front of the APC, a true angel of death ran bolt pistol in hand followed by a squad of the giants.

[Munting]

That bad huh?

[Alys Dwr]

Still as good as ever, although a few typo's in the most recent piece. I like the way both are giving the same story but from different perspectives, something that could make for a good book if done properly ('double eagle' springs to mind).

 

Don't fret over the lateness of my reply, i've been away fro a while but am enjoying this immensly whenever i notice an update.

 

Al

[Munting]

Slightly Drunk so sorry if typos.

 

Alys, thank you, your pretty much the only one keeping me interested in this. I one day hope to be an author, however if I were to write a book id concentrate on the Guard, human emotion is easier to do.

Update tomorrow!

 

The one armed marine, I plan on making him a dfundamental character.

[Munting]

oh and woul;d it be believable if Mareen was taken away for marine training?

[Alys Dwr]

I imagine there would be plenty of fluf nazi's to point out that Mareen is probably too old by this point to become a marine. Implants start aged 12, i think the fact that he is a corporal in a guard regiment makes him a wee bit too old.

 

That said, when the DA's primarch was found, all the men following him on Caliban were surgically enhanced to a level similar to a space marine. This may be a possible way to go with it.

 

Al

[Munting]

ahh I never thought of that :/

Just as a thought- conscripts?

they would not be too much older than this- if they are similiar to the cadian white shields?

would they be acceptable?

[Munting]

Muntithoras ran down the assault ramp of his razor back, his squad were moving to support the Valhallen Marren and his trusted advisor Zelent’s assault on the water tower. Such a conquest would cost the heretics in the city dearly, and they knew it, of all his company’s engagements of the day this was the one that was dragging the longest. His scarred lips underneath his helmet twisted into a smile, he would soon see to that. Behind him tactical squad Aquis, and a large unit of conscripts under the command of a commissar flooded around its armoured side.

 

Azran’s bolt pistol felled a heretic officer whose squad was attacking Phoenen and a guard officer, Phoenen an old friend of Muntithoras had obviously accounted for a large proportion of the enemy if the charred and blackened remains around him were anything to go by. The large ex assault marine drew his power sword and barrelled into the heretics, the size of him misleading when compared to his size. Muntithoras knew the force he had brought with him was over kill, but felt it necessary to show the guard units that his company were here with them.

 

Muntithoras crushed heretic after heretic into bloody pulps with his power fist, apothecary Zigorlie accounted for many with the bark of his bolt pistol. Within seconds the area around the water tower was filled with the dead and dying, Valhallans and Heretics. The marines had been barely wounded; all that remained was the entrance to the water tower and the obvious suicidal heretics within.

 

“Marren, of the Valhallan 23rd at your command Sir!” Muntithoras looked down, the guard officer he had saw fighting valiantly with Phoenen stood before him, proud of his service stripes, his long brown over coat was burnt by its closeness to Phoenen’s flamer, and he sweated under his peaked cap, his face dirty- the tell tale signs of a prolonged campaign, his arms looked wasted, showing physical exhaustion. This was obviously a man who took his duty seriously. Muntithoras looked around him, nodded his head.

 

Slowly and deliberately he crouched, head bowed, Zigorlie and Azran imitated him. Marines were often seen as arrogant and aloof when confronted with “normal” humans, Muntithoras would not have that said of the Crimson Fists 5th. He emphasized with Mareen, despite his human weaknesses his attacks were legend among the Valhallans, he was a true hero. “You are the one who should be titled Sir, Mareen of the Valhallans,” Muntithoras said, “Neither should you submit to me or call me by such titles. You have done the Imperium well and by looking at you I can tell you would have fought within the eye if commanded so.”

 

Phoenen, ever the joker, removed his helmet clasped the awe struck Corporal’s shoulder, “I like this ones style.” His grin lead to an applause of laughter from the Valhallans and event he marines. The commissar, with his conscripts quickly began checking the fallen for Valhallan survivors. Zigorlie raised his hand to stop them, “these men are heroes, they shall receive the care of the Astartes.” Tactical squad Aquis following his unspoken command lifted the wounded and took them to the Imperial Camp.

 

“What about the remaments in the water tower sir?” Mareen asked, still awestruck and in disbelief of what had just happened

[Alys Dwr]

A conscript might work... I thought they were 15/16yo though? i'm sure you could twist the fluff enough to make it fit.

 

This chunk aint too bad at all. However, "the care of the astartes" doesn't seem to work in my mind. There are still heretics to slay, instead the marines stop to do menial chores for the guard? i understand you are trying to convey Muntithoras's respect for the brave valhallans but it seems a bit out of character for a marine. If you're going so far as to allow Zigorlie to tend their wounds then that just won't work - i've read somewhere that the body of a marine is so different to a normal human that the equipment and techniques an apothacary is skilled at employing would be fatal to a normal man.

 

Have Muntithoras give Marren a high five before they surge forward to take some more names! lol.

 

This realy is a great story, i have so many images in my head whilst reading them. if i get a spare moment i'll attempt to convey them on paper.

 

Al

[Munting]

Ahhh, good point,

perhaps I could say the wounded will be guarded by Astartes or the like?

Like an honur guard of two marines or so?

Lol at the high five- would mareen be able to reach an outstereched marine hand :yes:

Thanks for the positivve feedback.

[Alys Dwr]

well i'm just over 6' and the other half is only 5', we can manage it so i'm sure a marine and guardsman could some how. However, o high five from a marine would probably be like catching a house brick. Just hope Muntithoras doesn't use his powerfist! lol

 

Astartes covering the guards withdrawl doesn't sound too far fetched, i'm sure they would if the situation warranted it.

 

Al