Dragon Warriors

[djkest]

I wrote this today at 4am. I was inspired, I guess. Not sure if this should be in the sticky or not, it didn't fit that format very well.\

 

Chapter 1:

My one flaw was that I cared too much, thought Captain James Kalari. I knew that the Emperor demanded a certain detachment to perform his duties, but I couldn't help myself. As I trained, fought, and lived with my brother marines, I developed a bond- a bond that was forbidden. They were like children to me, and I was their father. I knew all their names, I encouraged their individuality, and I looked at them more as individuals than instruments to the emperor’s will. That was my downfall.

 

 

 

The Blood Dragons were a proud chapter of Space Marines, with a rich history. The emperor’s finest, they touted. So when they got their latest assignment from the emperor, they eagerly accepted it without question. It appeared to be a simple mission, but not necessarily an easy one. Tartarus XIV had been infected with the taint of chaos. Their mission was a simple one: travel to the heart of the chaos corruption, and rip it out from the planet. It sounded so exciting, so romantic. The brave marines would cleanse the planet of chaos corruption, and free the citizens from this taint. But things are rarely as simple as they initially seem.

 

 

 

When the marines of the Blood Dragons chapter arrived on Tartarus XIV, it soon became apparent that the corruption was more widespread than they were told. Cautiously, they reported this increased activity to the imperial command. Unphased by the increased activity, they pressed on toward the reported heart of the chaos corruption. As they got closer, they could see the effects of chaos. The people were different; changed. It wasn't quite what they had expected, however. They were laughing, they were happy. This really took the marines aback as they slaughtered women and children alike as per the emperor’s command. And maybe, subconsciously, this was where it started. Instead of fear or acceptance, many of these civilians laughed boldly in the face of death.

 

 

 

At first the resistance was scattered and light: a few small groups of insurgents here and there, sometimes armed with lasguns and grenade launchers. To the experienced and battle hardened marines, these enemies were much like annoying flies; their weapons barely even posed a danger to the immaculate power armor that they wore. Slowly though, they started to see the shadows grow. The shadows were alive, they moved like a flickering candle. The blood red sun burned through the thick black smoke of 1,000 fires, and slowly, a noise rose in their ears. Quiet at first, but louder with each passing hour. It sounded like the groans of a thousand souls in torment. And then, when the noise became a dull roar, grating their senses, it happened. Out of nowhere, a group of chaos raptors descended from the sky, piercing the air with their inhuman shreiks. The Blood Dragons paused, just for a second, at this sudden appearance. The raptors decended like a rain of ceramite and steel, shooting and hacking and shrieking unceasingly. Captain Kalari finally snapped out of his stupor. Drawing his master crafted power sword, he aimed it at the heart of a raptor that was swooping down upon him. As the raptor cried out his death-shriek, his marines jolted back to their senses and sprung to action. They swiftly dispatched of the raptors, shooting them down with carefully aimed bolter fire. Almost as soon as the last raptor fell, they heard the staccato of bolter fire on their left flank. A squad of traitor marines was advancing on them slowly, firing their bolters. A defiler appeared out of the thick, black smoke. And the battle was on.

 

 

 

The battle had died down, and Kalari checked his casualties. Smith, Tynan, Jameson, Ortiz, Jones. Besides that, Malichai and Guetierrez were both injured. Again, Captain Kalari called his superiors to make them aware of the situation, and ask for reinforcements. His request for reinforcements was instantly denied.

 

 

 

Three days later, after near continuous skirmishes, Captain Kalari knew that there was no winning this fight. Despite winning every encounter, he was taking casualties, and he was down to only 45 marines and 4 terminators. Surely, he thought, we will die here to the last man. And frankly, it didn’t appear that the Emperor cared about them anymore. After his last transmission, 3 hours ago, his communication with higher headquarters had been severed. It was as if the Emperor had turned his back on them.

 

 

 

Chapter 2:

 

 

Standing on a rocky ridge, red soil crumbling beneath his feat, Captain James Kalari looked out over the wrecked valley. Beneath him lay 100 dead marines, some were his, some were those taken by chaos. The twisted remains of 3 predator tanks, scrap metal that resembled a defiler. The dead marines, he thought, I wonder what their names were. Were the chaos marines really so much different from his own? The thick black smoke that obscured the battlefield parted like a curtain, as a strong gust of wind tore down the valley from the north. Suddenly, he saw 6 defilers, swimming in a sea of chaos marines. To the south, a large group of bikers were slowly flanking around, not yet at combat speed. They would be outnumbered, 5 to 1, he thought. The doubts of his mission, the loss of his men, the moans on groans that never ceased, the smell of burning oil and blood; it built to a crescendo. Kalari had failed, but he thought there was 1 last mistake he wouldn’t make. He ordered his marines to retreat. Swiftly, they escaped down the ridge and started across a flat plateau. The cursed cannons of the defilers belched, and ordinance started impacting behind them. The powerful blasts reverberated in their audio sensors. The impacts were getting closer. They pressed on. The deep rumble of the bikes could be heard now, in the distance. Another wave of ordinance came crashing down, 6 blasts, the last one catching two of his men. As the dirt settled, the roar of the bikers became louder, closer. A volley of bolter fire erupted from the bikers.

 

 

 

Kalari spotted a large cave, high on the side of the rock wall. It’s entrance marked with two red stalactites, looking like the fangs of a snake. Kalari ordered his men towards the cave. They broke into a run as the bikers got closer, blasting their bolters again. Three more men fell. Very close now to the cave, and plasma bolts and bolter fire poured in on them as the bikers drew close.

 

 

 

As they reached the mouth of the cave, the roar of the bikes reverberated on the stone walls. And suddenly, the bikes slid sideways, dirt and rocks churning from their tires, and turned away from their pursuit. As quickly as they had come, they retreated away. Another volley of ordinance rang out, shaking the rock walls, covering them with fine, red dust. Slowly, the sound of battle died down. It appeared the men were safe. 27 remained, of his original 200 marines. They looked like a ragged bunch, their armor was dirty and scarred, and they moved slowly now. Many of them had picked up bolt pistols and chainswords from the traitor marines. He smiled. Although most of his men had died, his chapter was still standing. He knew he had to get out of here now, at all costs. He had to rebuild his fighting force, and there were far more traitors here than he could ever hope to kill at the present moment.

 

 

 

It was then that he noticed something, a whisper of a sound. It sounded like a slow, rushing of air, coming from deep within the cave. It was a sound unlike anything he had ever heard before. Looking at his feet, he saw a trickle of a shallow stream flowing from within the cave. It was blood.

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED….

[djkest]

Chapter 3:

 

Both curious and alert, Kalari and his men slowly advanced deeper into the rocky cave. The trickle of blood was a stream that they followed into the heart of the earth. There was a faint purple glow coming from deeper inside the cavern. And then they saw it- the broken bodies of 3 traitor marines were lying limp on the floor, still alive, and bleeding profusely. They had deep and sinister wounds on their bodies, it looked like a dreadnaught or power claw had taken chunks from their flesh. They made no sound as Kalari approached. Leveling his plasma pistol, he dispatched what little life they had remaining in them. He felt a tingling sensation run up his spine.

 

Around the corner, he could hear the sound of rushing air, louder now. It sounded like breathing. Cautiously advancing, as quiet as 500 lb power armored marines could, they rounded the corner. A huge, red, ancient dragon was lying on the cavern floor. It appeared to be sleeping, from it’s closed eyes and relaxed breathing. Several more dead marines, traitor and loyalist alike, were lying broken on the stone shelf. The cavern was dimly lit from the glow of a hundred purple crystals, which were embedded in the rock walls of this larger chamber. Instead of reddish brown, this stone was cold, grey, and hard.

 

As the marines advanced, the creature’s eye suddenly opened, staring at them. They froze for a second. That one eye was trained on them, and then, quickly, the dragon awoke. The huge neck of the dragon swung up, it rose to it’s feet. It took a quick step towards the marines, then another.

 

Raising his plasma pistol, captain Kalari took aim at the creature. He gave the order to open fire, and a caucophony of gunfire filled the cavern. His plasma shot burned a hole in the dragons powerful, muscled arm. It flinched for a second, then continued forward. The bolter fire merely glanced off the thick dragon scales. And then it was on them.

 

The creature shifted it’s weight to his hind legs, and quickly swiped at them with a clawed talon. A marine was caught in the blow, and launched through the air, impacting the stone wall of the cavern. A diamond sharp chunk of crystal pierced his armor, and he fell to the ground, lifeless. The creature came down with both front legs on top of another marine, crushing him. Almost immediately, his huge, spiked tail swept around, knocking several more marines to the ground. Letting out a fierce warcry, Captain Kalari raised his sword and charged headlong at the creature. His loyal marines raised their weapons and charged into the fray.

 

After 5 minutes of brutal, intense fighting, nearly every marine was tired and injured. Broken arms, smashed legs, and burns. The intense heat of the dragon’s breath had severely injured several of his men. Luckily, the power armor they wore afforded some protection. Kalari had just taken a hard blow to the chest. He could feel several broken ribs, and he felt a crushing pain in his chest. Fighting back the pain, he jumped to his feet. He charged at the dragon, and was surprised by his strength as his sword sliced through the dragon scales and wounded his side. Black blood dripped from the wound. Suddenly, the pain changed somehow. It wasn’t that the pain went away, it was that it didn’t hurt anymore. It felt like the feeling he got after his daily strength exercises. He furiously threw himself again at the dragon, but he made a mistake. Seeing him lunge forward, the dragon swiveled around and sliced his shoulder with a front claw. The wound was deep, and Kalari fought to keep conscious. His left arm hung limp at his side. His master crafted sword still firmly clutched in his right hand, he reflexively swung and cut the dragon’s hand deeply. His left arm popped and seemed to mend itself back in place! One of the badly burned marines was struggling to his feet, grasping a chainsword. He rushed in, hacking and slashing with surprising vigor.

 

The creature was hurt now, he could tell. Despite the 10 minutes of intense fighting, the marines fought on with renewed vigor. Their wounds did not seem to stop them from engaging in combat. Puzzled, Kalari pondered this condition, amidst the heated chaos of battle. Another firely blast of dragon’s breath knocked him to his feet. A burning, acrid smell filled his lungs, and he choked on the ashes. For some reason, he had to kill this dragon, and he would die trying. Again rising to his feet, he grasped his sword with two hands, raised it above his head, and charged.

 

Approaching from an obtuse angle, and distracted by the many marines he was fighting, the dragon failed to see the enraged soldier charging toward him. At the last second, he saw him, and started to turn towards the man. With a huge swing, Kalari viciously struck the dragons neck, cutting deeply into it. A gout of black blood shot out, covering him. Kalari swung again at the neck, and again, and again. The creature let out a gurgled roar. A stream of blood poured from his neck, spilling on the stone floor of the cavern. Suddenly, the other marines stopped their fighting. Again, the captain swung his sword, and again, it bit deeply into the creature’s neck. The dragon went limp. With another great swing, the captain was covered in black blood. Spatters of blood nearly blocked his vision. He lept into the air, and with one final swing, he severed the creatures massive head from it’s body. The marines stood in stunned silence, amazed at the turn of events. Sergent Evans walked up to him, ready to congratulate him on his killing blow. When Captain Kalari turned around, it was a gruesome sight. He was drenched in thick, black blood. His body was covered with injuries, and there was an intensity in his posture they had never seen. He took two quick steps toward the sergeant, and swiftly lashed out with his sword. Instantly, sergeant Evans was cleaved in two, diagonally. A surge of powerful emotion coursed through his body. His wounds did not impede him at all. He felt like he was healthier and stronger than he had ever been before. And his men felt it too. They too felt the power that embraced them.

 

Like a veil, the power that had gripped him was lifted from his eyes. Captain Kalari stared with disbelief at the murdered marine at his feet. He wondered what had happened to him. He was not sure where it came from, but he started laughing deeply. And soon all the other remaining marines were laughing too; all 12 of them. The laughed for a long time, not really knowing why.

 

After searching the cave, the Blood Dragons found a wealth of treasure in the dragon’s cavern. It wasn’t just money and treasures that the dragon had stockpiled. He had weapons and armor from the many kills he had made. The marines eagerly geared up, grabbing everything that looked interesting. They also took money, as much as they could. They didn’t know why, it just seemed like the thing to do. As they were leaving the cave, loaded with loot, they spotted a small tunnel off to the left side. Curious, Kalari boldly walked into the darkness. As the tunnel wound into the rock, he felt a warm sensation. The walls were carved cleanly out of the rock, perfectly flat on all sides. Coming to a precipice, he started to climb down some cleanly cut stairs. At the bottom, a large obsidian pillar rose from the ground, perhaps 4 feet tall. Piled around the base were skulls, many skulls, all human. The skulls were bleached white, and some appeared to be very old. The top of the pillar was at a 45 degree angle to the ground. In the top was carved a large, ornate symbol, deeply into the pillar face, and it was warm to the touch. Kalari felt the dragon’s blood start to react on his armor. It sucked into the chinks and cracks in his armor, drawing inside his body. His armor was clean again, and slowly began to repair itself. He felt the power coming back to him, embracing him warmly. He looked around at his fellow marines. They too were restored, renewed. No one spoke a word, as they slowly sank to their knees, in front of the chaos symbol. They fully succumbed to the powers of chaos, as they bowed down before the shrine to Khorne.

 

 

Prologue:

 

Using the treasures from the dragons cave, and the strange new power they embraced, they took over the cave, and used it as a base of operations. They built a training facility, and began to rebuild their chapter. No longer did they listen to the emperor’s call. Now, they went their own way. They were no longer the Blood Dragons, but the Dragon Warriors. They adopted a combat doctrine in the spirit of the great red wyrm that was slain. They embraced fire, using melta and flamer weapons almost exclusively. They preferred to fight in close combat, since hand to hand melee sealed their destiny.

 

Those who devoutly embraced khorne became a special group. This group was so taken in by the blood god, that they started to warp and mutate. They became extremely aggressive, irritable, and their combat antics borderlined on insanity. Their helmets warped with the power of chaos, as they slipped into madness. These warriors became what was commonly known as berserkers.

 

Captain Kalari was forever changed by the events on that fateful day. Among the torn bodies in the dragon’s lair, he found a shattered suit of terminator armor with a pair of lightning claws. After some modifications, he adapted these onto his own power armor, as a symbol of the great claws of the dragon that nearly killed him.

 

The newly formed Dragon Warriors existed in and of themselves. They pillaged and stole and robbed until they had enough, and then they did it some more. They built up their power and became once again a formidable fighting force. With the infusion of power and wealth, they sought to carry out their only real goal- to punish the emperor, in any way they could, for what he had done to them.

 

C&C welcome. Hope someone enjoyed it!

[djkest]

No comments, or criticism? I'm sure I made a few fluff violations. I thought I did a decent job of explaining how it happened, and that it kind of makes a little bit of sense how they would fall into corruption like that.

[Phosis]

I think I like the names/characters, the best. I have written Thousand Sons stories, but my grammar is not very good so I stopped

 

Very good, and will there be more?

 

-jason

[djkest]

There is definately the potential for more. I could add a chapter in the middle about some of their fights with chaos forces. I tried to show how they slipped into chaos, slowly. I'm not sure if it works for everyone, if it really makes enough sense.

 

Also the part about the fight with the dragon, I was trying to convey a sense of Khorne bestowing powers of the marines as they fought, the shed of blood and the combat and agression pleased him, plus they were very close (unknowingly) to a powerful and ancient shrine to khorne. I guess that and the blood / killing from the dragon was kind of my idea of how the dragon was influenced by chaos, or related to it. Perhaps it was even some sort of demonic creation.

 

Also, I was thinking about taking off from after the fight, and showing how they rebuilt, but I don't have any good ideas for that yet.

[Fury_of_Fenris]

that was actually a goos read although i think you should of made there slip into chaos longer and maybe let them have more marines lets say 50 or so and make it like they were fighting for 100 or so yeas on there own.