Ashlander: Fists of Brass

[Luy22]

Prolouge

 

The black skies echoed as salvos of artillery machines belched out death, covering the no-man's land in dust and black mud. Acid rain pummeled the tanks and armor of the Brazen Fists as they charged through the wasteland, towards enemy lines. Within one of the squads, was sergeant Nathan Glenn, an Ex-Guardsmen of the former Ashlanders regiment. He charged, his chainsword screaming for blood and gore. He and the rest of the marines hit the Ork entrenchment hard. He drove his chainblade into the stomach of one of the green beasts, whilst blasting away at another with his plasma pistol. An Ork machine rumbled forth, spilling its own soldiers over its side as the clumsy Ork driver ran full-speed into the marines. A few were hit with concussions, but the marines held tough enough to push the vehicle over, crushing what aliens were left. The Brazen Fists were like a chainmail shirt, each one a link in the armor, holding together as a stalwart defense against the Enemies of the Imperium.

 

Now, the Greenskins were in full-retreat. The marines returned to the Imperial bunkers dug into the nearby mining city of Corla Tinnaris. They had been fighting here tooth-and-nail for days, taking shelter from the acid rain. The rainfall only happened once every forty or so years. Tomorrow, it would stop, and the marines would get to stop worrying about holes melting in their purely forged armor.

 

Nathan sat with his captain, Nero, and the two spoke of things to come. It was a council of war. Coming in the room were the other sergeants in the company.

 

It never began like this. Nathan was not always a space marine. This is the story of his ascension to Angel of Death.

--

 

1

 

Many years earlier...

 

The skies of Ith were black as far-off volcanic mountains exploded with lava, belching up dark smoke as black as death itself. The Obsidian Tower, the fortress monastery of the Brazen Fists chapter of space marines stood tall and mighty as the burning world around it churned. At it's base stood the black and charred ruins of the old now-extinct capitol. Far beneath the surface of the planet here, is a great city, the last remaining one on the planet, where the populace now thrives.

 

On the eastern side of the tower was a landing platform. Two marines stood guard at the large bulkhead door at the end of the catwalk leading from the platform. A thunderhawk gunship's engines boomed as the vessel came in for a landing. It engaged it's landing thrusters and slowly and gently hit the metal of the platform, steam ejecting from several areas and the boarding ramp opening. Out came several marines, Captain Nero, and Nathan Glenn, a dwarf among giants. He was clad in robes that the marines had given him aboard their battlebarge on the way from that blasted Tau planet. He was also given a propor meal, comfortable sleeping quarters, and a bath. Not once did he ever speak to one of the space marines, as he felt as though he did not deserve the privilege. The man walked down the ramp, folding his arms and walking across the bridge. Sweat beaded his brow, and he began to get madly hot. He was not used to this kind of inhospitable climate. The marines nodded at Nero, letting the door slide open, and allowing him passage. Nero turned, awaiting Nathan, who was almost dragging, sweating to bring himself to the gate. He looked around, seeing the volcanic mountains, that looked like the great black jaws with bloody teeth, wanting to consume his soul. He turned away, continuing. He almost collapsed as soon as he was through and the door shut.

 

"Hot, is it not?" Nero said with a smile. "You will get used to it, Neophyte Nathan, but you have much to learn before this..." Nathan nodded weakly, not wanting to speak. He was still confused. He was the last of his entire planet to be walking in this galaxy. How many others like he were given the chance to become sons of the Emperor? He knew not. He just wanted sleep.

 

The captain led him down some corridors, and sliding open the door to his quarters, a small room with a data console, and a large bed, there was a small window showing the dark fiery landscape beyond, but he shut it. It instantly felt cool in the room, and he fell upon the cot, breathing heavily. Captain Nero shut the door, and left, calling to several servitors and scribes to follow him. He had work to do...

[Luy22]

2

 

The next several months, even stretching into years, for Nathan were just untold thousands of grueling hard tasks all sewn into one; combat training, armor-fitting, getting his implants (the worst), and praying to the Emperor.

 

He did not see any other squads. He had no squadmates. He was completely raw. The others had also been trained from infancy. So had Nathan, since he thought about it, he joined the Clouro Defense Force when he was 18, working his way up the ladder until he went through the local academy and soon left for war, becoming a guardsman. His first and last campaign was the Hammerstrike, which had ended a year earlier. He had been brought here in order to hunt down and kill the Tau commander O'Taka, who was a freak even to his own species. Whilst normal Tau were frail and weak, O'Taka was a monster, as big as a space marine, encased in heavy armor and an expert swordsman. They would find, and kill him.

 

And now, Nathan found himself in scout armor, gray and yellow, with a light gray cloak wrapped around his neck. He was a marine now.

 

Nathan walked side-by-side with Captain Nero. "It's been a while since you have entered the Obsidian Tower, Neophyte Nathan Glenn. And now, it is time to test your true mettle."

 

"What do you wish of me, my captain?" Nathan responded, somewhat raspy.

 

"You are going to leave, to the Valley of Blood."

 

"Your training ground?"

 

"Yes, our training ground. You will be living there for a month... I hope the Emperor smiles upon you. If you make it out in good condition, you shall be fully inducted into the Brazen Fists." Nathan simply nodded, as they made their way out to the dark landing platform once more. It had been so long since He had been outside. He had spent most of his time either training or in the city kilometers below them. The hot winds blew past them, he turned to Nero.

 

"So long, my captain." Nero nodded to him, and turned. Nathan got aboard. At the helm was a servitor. On the walls of the ship were boltguns, pistols, and knives, so many different looking combat knives. Some were heavily ornate and shimmering. Others had long, and knarled and twisted handles. Some had greatly serrated blades. He picked up a standard knife, sliding it into a sheath on his belt. He then picked up a boltgun and a few cartridges for it.

 

Hours later...

 

The Valley of Blood was deep and large. Lava flowed endlessly here. Beasts hid in nooks and crannies in the darkest areas. The thunderhawk landed in a clearing, dust billowing at its' descent. Once it landed, the single humanoid shape of Nathan Glenn wandered off into the black ash below. The ship then took off, engaging its' thrusters and blasting away into the horizon. Nathan could barley make out the Obsidian Tower on the horizon, it was just a tall erected black monolith. He turned to the valley. Nathan shrugged, and began to wander...

[Luy22]

3

 

Nero entered the Chapter Master's quarters, constructed at the very summit of the Obsidian tower. There were windows displaying the fiery, volcanic world around them. Nero knelled before the Chapter Master, a ancient Space Marine clad in black obsidian and ceremite armor, fused to his chair to keep him alive. He had been wounded in a deadly battle with a Chaos champion who had returned for revenge after the Day of Fire, the day when the planet went from a beautiful paradise to a hellish wasteland. Now, Nero looked up at his lord.

 

"My lord..."

 

"Yes, Captain Nero?" Boomed the heavy, dark voice behind that black mask.

 

"The newest of the recruits, I have personally trained him for a year now. He had all implants blessed and within him. He now survives the Valley of Blood."

 

"Excellent." The Chapter Master said. He would have nodded if there were not great tubes entering his skull from the back. "Go now, attend to your company. War is coming soon. We are to go to aid."

 

"Where, my master?"

 

"In our system. It seems the Chaos fools have rallied another mass of followers. More cultists than marines. They are in the Durmite Subsector of our system. Go. When the new recruit is ready, he will join you." He added in a voice devoid of all emotion. "Rumour has it that they have reclaimed the horrid artifact that cooked Ith."

 

That was all it had took for Nero to leave.

 

*****

 

Nathan wandered the ash wastes. Now he was an Ashlander. Now he was really surviving it. This morning he had cooked some waste scorpions over a river of lava. He unfortunately ran out of water.

 

In the distance, he saw a village dotting the horizon. When he came close enough, the people, all of very dark skin, took him in. He stayed with them for a day to nourish himself. That night, however, things changed.

 

A Nottun attacked. Nottun were once pack hunters back when Ith thrived, living in the forests and wide open plains. Since Chaos came, it had mutated to grow ferocious horns, its woolly fur hide had shed, replaced by scales. Its face, more monstrous. Its body gained more muscle mass. After the Day of Fire, it had evolved to grow more accustomed to the environment. It now had black leathery hide. Its claws were long, its paws were huge to grip the loose rocks. The beast wandered into the village. it killed five peasants out and about. Luckily, a Space Marine was there.

 

Nathan charged, his boltgun blazing. The bolts exploded on impact, leaving small wounds in its flesh. he drew his knife, leaping at it with a roar. It countered with its own ferocious roar, and tried to snap at him. He grabbed its mighty strong jaws, inches from his face, then slit its upper jaw, causing it to squeal and reel backwards. It circled him in the town square, purring, waiting to strike. He jumped, striking first, wrapping his muscular arms around its beastly neck and squeezing tightly to secure a hold. He stabbed it repeatedly with his knife in its skull until it had fallen over, dead. He continued to cut off its head, sawing it off, blood spurting everywhere.

 

When it was done, the head of the beast was mounted on a pike, in the center of the village. The Scout remained there for another day, before proceeding, returning on foot back to the Obsidian Tower.