Wolf Scout

[OnlyInDeath]

Again, thanks for the replies everyone. I will try and get another part up tomorrow. I am trying to type enough that each chapter will only have to be posted up in about 3 parts. I think you will all appreciate where chapters 3 and 4 will go, and past that, I have already laid out a decent story line in my mind! so stay tuned.

 

And yes, i do realize how "lordoftherings-esque" chapter 3 and 4 will be, but it's actually a theme that's been used many, many times so i'm not ashamed to use it now (holding off an impossible foe long enough for the small force to win it all). I just hope that I can do it in a fashion that you all will love ;)

 

Anyway, thanks again for indulging my hobby, and hopefully some new text will make up for my lack of a painted army over 1900 pts...

 

-OID

[OnlyInDeath]

Eesh, sorry I havent been able to post guys. Been spending some quality time w/ the fam, but I should be able to finish up chapter 3 by the end of this weekend, so keep your eyes peeled!

 

-OID

[lunchb0x]

cant wait!

[OnlyInDeath]

Torvald was surprised to realize that he was actually sweating.

 

The scouts had come to the conclusion that they had to make much faster progress if the Imperial lines were to hold, and had given up any sense of stealth, heading almost due south at a full out run. For a space marine, that meant that the distance was eaten up at an alarming rate. However, it also meant that even a space marine would start to feel exhaustion after several hours of the brisk pace. Torvald had realized that he and his pack needed to reach their target sooner than he originally thought after seeing the sheer size of the mechanized forces bearing down on Ravik, and he knew that the longer the traitors were allowed to assault the Imperial position, the more likely it was that Ravik would fall back into thier hands.

 

Without breaking stride, Torvald pulled a datapad from a pouch on his belt and got his bearings. They were getting close to the target now, only about one hundred and fifty kilometers to go. The icon that marked thier position on the pad was making steady progress southward, and the ETA monitor put them about five hours out. Torvald cursed under his breath. Even at thier incredible pace, Torvald didnt know if he would complete his mission in time to make a difference in the coming battle. Growling to himself, he pushed himself even harder, lengthening his stride. The pack instinctively followed suit, and Torvald could tell from the scent in the air, that his brothers were feeling just as anxious as he was. They all knew what was on the line, and failure would mean the complete destruction of an entire Space Wolf great company, along with thousands of Imperial men.

 

Failure was not an option.

 

++++++

 

Fenring stood in full battle plate, the enormous bulk of his terminator armor resting comfortably across his broad frame. Several wolf tails swung from his armor on the breeze that was blowing from the north, keeping a harsh chill in the air despite the sun overhead. Fenring stood on top of one of the few intact hab stacks, rising high into the broken skyline that once made Ravik a picturesque place to live. Now, only broken rubble dominated the view, hab after hab shelled into dust, the streets broken, the parks full of shell craters and dead trees. It was a sight that brought a moment of grief to Fenring's heart. He hated to see so much destruction wrought upon any work of the Imperium of Man. However, he did not let himself feel pity for the citizens who had perished in the long war. Any citizen who had remained in Ravik had been a heritic and deserving of the Emperor's Justice. And now it would be the scene of the most important battle for Selsa IV.

 

The wolfguard around Fenring, similarly suited in the bulky forms of tactical dreadnaught armor, stood silent and immoblie as thier Wolf Lord surveyed the scene around him. From this vantage, he could see the Imperial forces that were arrayed around the perimiter of Ravik, a kilometer to the south. This close to the line, the Space Wolf's enhanced eyes could pick out individual guardsmen rushing from position to position, distributing ammunition and helping comrades dig further into the rubble. Each squad of guardsmen had set to making a fortified bunker on thier part of the trenches. They all knew what was coming, and the only way to endure the shelling to come would be to burrow far enough under the rubble that they could survive several direct hits. After that, it would be the classic tactic against any overwhelming mechanized force. Use bottlenecks, take out the armor near the bottlenecks to limit the movement of the enemy, and displace. It was simply a stalling tactic. There was no way to hold Ravik by any conventional means, and Fenring knew this well. Even so, it was a battle that he relished in his heart. It was a chance for his wolves to prove themselves, to defend the brave guardsmen who fought alongside them, and to turn inevitable defeat into definitive victory. It was what space marines were made for.

 

Behind him, more towards the heart of the city, Fenring knew the wolves under his command sat in thier transport vehicles. They would be called upon to plug the gaps that would be blasted into the imperial lines, buying the time needed for any nearby forces to fall back to new positions. He knew that soon he would be joining them, his command Land Raider Crusader idling in the street below them, its massive form sheltered in the lee of the hab stack. Even in shadow, it made an imposing sight, the squat form of the hurricane bolters on either side of the warmachine training tirelessly on the environment surrounding them. The autotargeters atop the gun platforms never ceased their vigilent watch.

 

Somewhere in the heart of the city, he knew that the remaining Reaver Titans from the Legio Sanctus were likewise sheltering themselves in the rubble of the city, protecting their precious war machines until they could be used when it mattered most.

 

For all the glory of the Imperial forces dispursed before him, it was the menacing cloud building to the south that warranted his appearance on his pearch. It had been growing steadily closer and larger over the past few hours, and it didnt take much imagination to know what it entailed. Fenring knew from intel gathered from the Mechanicus ship in high orbit, that the two armored columns had merged and now approached Ravik in one massive swathe of armored might, stretching in a mobile front many kilometers across. Already, from this high vantage, Fenring could pick out the tiny, dark specks in the otherwise golden grasslands that denoted an enemy tank. The sheer number of the forces approaching thier position brought a memory back to Fenring's mind from his time as a child upon an island in the great Fenrisian seas. He had thrown stones at a nest of fire beetles, and had run in fear back to his clan's village as a swarm of the angry red insects rose out of the hive and rushed him as one, a carpet of red death. And now, that death approached in a swarm of black and grey painted armor. Only this time, there would be no running.

 

Even as he watched, the line of vehicles slowed and started maneuvering themselves into formation. From this distance, he couldn't pick out how exactly the rebels were dispursing their forces, but he could hazzard a guess. The tiny black specks arranged themselves into a long line, stretching far beyond the borders of the city of Ravik, and then the forward elements came to a halt. The dust cloud finally caught up to the enemy lines as they drew to a stop, and Fenring lost sight of his prey. With a colorful curse that drew a few chuckles from the Wolfguard around Fenring, he walked to the edge of the rooftop and gripped the ornate stone guardrail that enclosed them. He knew what was coming, but that didnt mean he liked being blind to the approaching forces. Not for the first time, he lamented the fact that the enemy was approaching from the south, the pulverised grass and soil providing a permanent golden screen to shield thier approach.

 

Finally, squinting to force his eyes to focus as close as possible to the dust cloud on the horizon, he could make out the expected faint flashes of orange. He took a moment to tuck his beard into the lip of his gorget and pulled his thick mane of red hair into order before reaching down to the white helment clipped to his belt, and he secured it onto his suit of armor, completely enclosing him and setting him apart from the world outside. Opening up his comlink, he selected the command channel and addressed the collective forces below him. "Artillery fire imbound. All forces, secure your armor and positions. Communications will be impossible for the duration of the bombardment, so follow the orders of your squad leaders until they have been restored. May the Emperor guide your aim and shield your body. Lets take the fight to these heritics and show them how the Imperium deals with traitorous scum! For Russ! For the Allfather!"

 

The men in the city spared a few moments for a hearty cheer before securing themselves in their prepared positions. Fenring knew it was time to rejoin his forces, but he tarried long enough to see the first of the shells fall towards the city, coming up well short but kicking up dozens of dirt fountains high into the air. As the rebel gunners compensated, the steady rain of shells crept closer and closer to the city. Finally, forcing himself to tear his eyes from the spectacle before him, he gathered his Wolfguard who had likewise placed their helmets on and sealed thier armord suits, and began his descent towards the waiting tank below.

 

 

+++++++

 

 

The scouts were panting as they finally began the approach towards the chain of mountains that housed thier target. They looked like a pack of hungry wolves, chasing down thier prey across the frozen tundras of Fenris, panting and pushing themselves, sure they they would have the stamina to bring thier target down. They had made incredible speed, only possible due to the god-like bodies gifted to them from the Emperor, and they were bearing down on the mountain chain a full half-hour ahead of Torvald's prior estimation. They were still running at full speed when they ran across the first of the outposts.

 

The Wolves literally stumbled into the camp, their incredible speed meaning that they had little time to survey the land ahead of them before they were already past it. As the grass parted suddenly before them, the sudden absence of the drag from the long grass causing them to stumble, the scouts fell across a camp of several low tents, rising no higher than the level of the grass, and the startled faces of a dozen stunned PDF. The monsters crashing into their midst was something out of a priest's sermon, daemons made manifest; huge forms moving with incredible speed, tension and sweat masking the human features of thier faces and instead adding to the ferocious look of the fanged, hariy marines. With a shout of surprise, the scouts drew themselves up short and made the split second decision to press an attack.

 

Using the momentum of their speed, the wolves drew thier close combat weapons and dove into the grouping of men. Torvald heard the crackle of electricity to his right and caught the sight of Istan leaping ahead of him with a fierce snarl, thunderhammer raised high into the air above his head. With a deafening thunderclap, he brought the hammer down in the middle of a grouping of the soldiers. Most of them simply vaporized into a fine red mist at the energies unleashed upon them. Those further away from the impact simply took one more ragged breath into lungs that were no longer there, and collapsed to the ground, blood and viscera from thier liquified organs leaking from every oriface. The remaining PDF had time to loose a few lasgun shots at the approaching wolves before they were summarily cut down, the energy of the blasts absorbed by the armor protecting the scouts.

 

Taking a moment to use his acute senses to ensure that there were no more of the enemy in their immediate vicinity, Torvald rounded angrily on Istan, storming up to the larger wolf's face.

 

"What in the name of Russ do you think you are doing? We are on a mission of stealth, and you unleash the fury of hell on a couple of guardsmen???" Istan made to respond, but Torvald cut him off before he could start. "Perhaps things are a bit different in the company of a Wolf Lord, but with scouts, you will strike with a little more precision."

 

With that, Torvald turned from Istan, ignoring the flush of anger that had crept up on his old comrade's face.

 

"Alright wolves, lets move out, full stealth," he paused, looking upon the looming form of the mountain chain in front of them. "We have approximately ten kilometers to target, and I want a silent approach. We dont have much time before they realize this lot has gone silent, so best possible speed. Aravind, covering position." With that, he spared one more angry glare from his yellow eyes at Istan before crouching down into the grass and disappearing with a whisper of dry foliage. Growling, but properly chastized, Istan followed suit, and soon the entire pack of scouts had disappered into the grasslands.

 

 

 

 

 

End Chapter 3.

 

 

 

 

Ok guys, finally found some time for a new post. Chapter 4 and 5 should be lots of fun, and I'm looking forward to progressing through these. Hope there's still interest in reading this after so long without an update! As always, C&C welcome and appreciated.

 

-OID

[jester262]

great as usual. can't wait!

[Roguemarine]

amazing, can't wait for the next installment...this has become my drug :ph34r:

[hendrik]

keep it going mate;)

[OnlyInDeath]

Thanks again for the replies guys!

 

Will do my best to get another post up tomorrow. I'm really itching to get the battle for both the space defence bunker, as well as the second battle for Ravik going. It prolly will take either a long, long chapter or a couple of chapters to complete, but should be worth the reading!

 

-OID

[OnlyInDeath]

Chapter 4

 

 

 

Torvald crouched in the golden grass, letting it obscure him from any roaming eyes. He gave a slight sigh of frustration as he looked upon the fortress before him. Rising almost straight up out of the plains, a massive cliff of dark basalt jutted out from the surrounding mountain chain, pitch black against the grey of the mountains. Several hundred meters above the surrounding terrain and perched atop the cliff stood thier target, a forboding structure of plascrete and ceramite forming a complex of squat square buildings encircled by a sturdy wall almost ten meters high. Even from his distant vantage, Torvald could tell that this was going to be a challenge. However, he must succeed at his mission if his fellow wolves had any chance at survival. The jutting nozzels of the giant planetary defense lasers rose from the peaks of a quartet of surrounding mountains, as they stood as a watchful deterrent against any planetary bombardment.

 

It would be impossible to take out the lasers themselves, even with the destructive firepower of a long fangs pack. There was just too much structure, reinforced against the firepower an orbiting battleship could bring to bear, for the paltry weapons of a ground force to damage. Instead, they would have to take care of the threat through it's human element, within the command complex. And that, is where the dillema came in. For them to reach the complex, they would have to either climb the sheer sides of the cliff, or take the long approach up the sides of the mountain, while maintaining thier stealth against any patrols and sensors that would stud the mountainside. Running over the options in his mind, Torvald reached a mental impasse, and instead opened the vox link.

 

"Alright, wolves, lets hear some opinions. How do we get inside?"

 

It took some time before the vox finally crackled to life in his ear with a response. Istan's familiar grumble wispered into his ear.

 

"As much as I don't like the prospect, brother, it seems we must go up the mountainside. The cliff is too steep and too exposed. We would never make it up there without anyone seeing us."

 

Torvald let out another sigh. If Istan could not provide any insight from an outsider's point of view, then there truly was only one option realistically open to him. The other scout's silence told him that they had evaluated the situation the same as Torvald and Istan. He cursed under his breath. This was going to take too long, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

 

"Alright, lets make for the western approach. It looks like there's a service road along the east, which should be the more heavily defended approach. I have point, Istan, you have the rear. Loose formation, move out." With that, Torvald cut the link and set out at a crouching jog towards the base of the cliff, riding the waves of wind that pressed through the grass, giving it an almost water-like quality. He idly pondered how a formation of mountains could rise so far above the surrounding terrain without much in the way of foothills. It was almost as if it had been purposely built there, pulled from the inside of the planet to form a natural barrier to the rest of the continent to the south. Indeed, it was past this mountain chain that the leaders of the rebelion made thier home, deep in some great hive to the south. Perhaps it was due to some great impact on the other side of the planet, ages in the past. Either way, it didnt really affect thier current situation. His reverie was broken by the vox link suddenly opening in his ear.

 

"Contact," all the wolves came to a dead stop, lowering into the grass before bellying off in random directions for a few meters. Aravind's voice continued through the link. "I think I have an answer to our problem..."

 

++++

 

 

For Guardsman Gavin Valentine, the world measured about six feet by ten feet, enclosed entirely by reinforced plascrete, and consisted of little else than sweating bodies, buckling earth, and a near constant roar of exploding ordinance. It was something that in a dozen years of service, he had never had to endure. Typically, in a mechanized division, he was in a moving tomb, dodging between incoming artillery barrages until they could disembark and give some hell. Now, his tomb was stationary...well, for the most part. As stationary as it could be considering the constantly impacting shells. As it stood, he was glad that he had not eaten lunch and had relieved himself before the bombardment began, otherwise he was sure that the constant vibration would have made him even more miserable. Even tightened painfully against his scalp, the standard issue guard helemt atop his head seemed like it would pound his head into his chest, in tiny increments.

 

Suddenly, as quickly as it started, the shelling stopped. The silence was a roaring echo in his ears that gradually toned down to a low, constant whine in his ear. He had heard from somewhere that the tone that he heard would be a tone that would forever be gone from his hearing range, blasted from existence by the concussive forces. As the ringing gradually died down, he could hear the voice of his sergeant over the vox bead.

 

"Get your fething arses out of this hole and take up positions! On the double!"

 

Gavin wasted no time, and like those Cadians around him snapped to immediate action from the commanding tone from his sarge, gathering up his lasgun and his pack and running out the steep incline from the bunker that his squad had taken shelter in. The landscape around him was little more than a pockmark of shell craters, smoking and hissing in the cool air of the afternoon. Looking around him he could see the forms of other guardsmen rising like insects out of the earth, running full sprint towards the sheltering forms of the piles of rubble where buildings once stood. Already heavy weapons teams were setting up their gear, and the guardsmen around them wearily tried to see through the smoke and the haze that hung in the air, obscuring even the sun above them to a dim orange glow. Unwinded from the brief spring, Gavin plowed into a deep shell crater near the perimeter of the Imperial line, and waited.

 

He knew that he wouldnt have to wait long. Already he could hear the rumbling of tanks approaching from the fields south of the city. The rebels had not timed thier artillery very effectively, which most likely spoke to the accuracy of the PDF who had not been on the front lines of the grueling war. Gavin was sure that the more seasoned front-liners would have been a bit more competent, but these were relief forces from the hives to the south. Well, he thought to himself, they were about to find out what it meant to rise against the Imperium of Man.

 

As if in answer to his musings, the crack of a battletank's main cannon cut through his thoughts, and the smog roughly a hundred meters in front of him parted in a whirlwind around the report of the shot. Gavin got a brief view of a Leman Russ battle tank before the earth a dozen meters behind him erupted into a spray of dirt and shrapnel, a few Cadians caught out in the open on thier sprint towards the lines lending thier lifeblood to the explosion. Taking thier range off the first shot, a dozen tanks in staggered formation around the first opened up suddenly the battlefield had been blasted into stark clarity.

 

The fortifications around Gavin blew themselves into lethal shrapnel and dibris clouds, the shattered remains of the buildings being further pulverized into thier atomic constituents. Again, his world was transformed into a maelstorm of sound and concussive forces, forcing his face down into the dirt as blast waves washed over him ceaselessly. The heavy weapons teams around him retaliated and streaks of rocket fire lept out to greet the oncoming armor, most of the shots blasting harmlessly off of the thick front armor, but a pair of the tanks were stopped cold, one losing a tread which wound around the wheel assembly before it veered sharply off to the left and grinding to a halt. The other caught a missile at the joint of its turret and the hull, blasting molten metal directly into the tank's magazine which detonated in a spectacular fireball.

 

The guardsmen around him kept thier bodies as close to the ground as possible, knowing thier lasguns would do little good to the battletanks rumbling down the road towards them. Instead, they keep thier heads down and eyes peeled for the telltale forms of the supporting infantry they knew would soon be making a showing.

 

The tanks and heavy weapons teams began to exchange direct fire with eachother, missiles reaching out to kill the armor of the lumbering behemoths, and in return the teams were blasted into a fine mist of dirt and gore as the tanks found thier range. Already, a half dozen teams had been pulverized, to the cost of another pair of tanks. It was the kind of attrition that the Guard were used to, only in this case the numbers were against them. Gavin could already tell, only thirty seconds into the engagement, that things were not going well for the forward elements of the Guard. Gritting his teeth, stark white against the black dirt ground into his face, he concentrated on surviving a few moments longer, praying for something to give his presence purpose. As if in answer to his wishes, a swarm of bodies appeared out of the gunsmoke around the advancing tanks, charging in undiciplined ranks towards the Imperial lines.

 

Gavin smiled, glad that he could now at least die with meaning, and settled further up in the crater, rasing his gun above the lip to a stable firing point. Waiting until the enemy came into range of his lasgun, Gavin let them get a dozen more strides in before unleashing his lasgun on full auto. His gun spat incandescent bolts of pure blue-white energy towards the enemy, the spray of his gun reaching out towards the tightly packed bodies advancing towards him. As if psychically linked, the guardsment around him unloaded at the same time and the air between the tanks and heavy weapons crew was suddenly awash in a horizontal rain of glowing death. The chatter of heavy stubbers joined in as they unleased a spray of slugs into the frey. The bodies of the enemy dropped in droves, but there were more behind to replace the fallen, and for every that fell, the rebels gained a few yards for the man behind. In a gutteral roar, they fired from the hip as they moved, sickly red las blasts joining the blue of the Imperials in a brilliant show of unleashed energy. Already, the ambient temperature of the gunlines had risen several degrees from the unreal amounts of thermal energies being released.

 

Gavin noticed inbetween shots that the forms of the rebel PDF came into focus, and he could make out details that made his stomach turn. Great pus filled blisters marred thier figures, and a sickly pale yellow palor hung around thier waxy skin. Some bore the tell-tale stigma of mutation in weeping sores, others in fleshy tentacles that hung from thier face and arms. Gavin felt the bile in his stomach rise into his throat, and felt even more determination to kill as many of these abominations as possible. Chaos! He couldnt believe his eyes, but at the same time, it all made sense. What else could cause a man to turn from the holy light of the Emperor?

 

Gradually, the numbers arrayed against them began to tell, and the Imperial lines were beginning to thin. Only a quartet of the battletanks remained from the first wave, but armored personnel carriers had moved up along side them, lending the firepower of thier multilasers and heavy bolters to that of the tanks. The heavy weapon fire churned into the men of the guard, punching clear through the carapace armor they all wore and turning them into charred puddles of flesh, or simply blowing them to small pieces that slapped wetly against those on either side of the fallen.

 

Finally, Gavin could barely make out from the static marred vox bead, "All forces, prepare to fall back. Repeat, prepare to fall back to the second line! Sappers, blow all charges along the first line!"

 

Suddenly, the battlefield in front of Gavin erupted into great sprouts of flame and stone as a series of titanic explosions ripped along the line behind the advancing rebels. Hundreds of men were vaporized mid-stride and two of the remaining four tanks went up as the incredible heat cooked off magazines. Gavin blinked several times to clear his eyes of dozens of flash-blind points of light, struggling to find a target. Gradually, his vision cleared and he could make out a break in the enemy lines advancing upon them, fifty meters wide, but already there was a second wave rushing to close the distance. Gavin looked around him at the charred and mangled bodies around him and knew that this would be it. Even the volume of bodies caught between the blast and the second wave, several hundred strong, was almost upon the Imperial lines, and Gavin could see the sickly yellow in their eyes where white should be, as feverish devotion drove them on. Gavin commended his soul to the Emperor and rose up in the crater, willing to meet his end on his feet, granting the Emperor's Mercy with his bayonet and rifle stock.

 

Even as he and the remaining three dozen guard rose from the trench to meet the teeming wave of mutant rebels, Gavin flinched as a thunderous report sounded from behind him. Streaks of smokey contrails in thier hundreds streaked over his head and shoulders, coming close but never touching him, lashing out towards the enemy lines. In a series of wet thuds, the enemy facing him staggered as they were hit full on by a fullisade of bolts, and then disappeared in a shower of wet, red gore as the bolts detonated within the soft bodies of the rebels. Startled by the sudden absense of foes, Gavin looked behind him and almost dropped his lasgun at the sight before him.

 

Striding towards him like gods through a battlefield, came ten forms encased in the ice blue of the Space Wolf chapter. The bulky form of their Rhino idled loudly behind them as they spread into a wide formation, covering a long stretch of the line. Already they were directing a devastating wave of bolts ifrom thier boltguns nto the second wave of rebels, forcing them by pure weight of fire back into thier own lines. The tanks advancing with the enemy took a moment to try and take range of the advancing Wolves, but just then a trio of harsh cracks split the air of the lines as three blindingly bright lances of pure white light punched through the tanks and one of the APCs, turning them to molten slag, and cutting through all the infantry in the way. A deep throaty rumble announced the additional presence of a Predator Annihilator taking up a defensive position.

 

As Gavin gawked at the awesome martial forces arrayed around him, a gruff voice spoke calmly through the vox, "If you wish to fall back, I suggest you do it now."

 

Wasting no time, Gavin and the rest of the guardsmen around him fell back at a full run, three dozen men left of a hundred and twenty men of his company...

 

++++

 

 

 

Arrayed in a elongated semi-circle around the west base of the black cliff, Torvald surveyed the target before him. Aravind's keen eyesight had detected the hidden entrance from a distance where even a space marine would have had difficulty picking it out. Set against the basalt of the cliff and set in a deep fissure, a pair of heavy steel doors blocked off a hidden entrance that led straight into the cliff itself. Torvald did not know exactly what the entrance led to, but he was willing to bet that it would lead to the complex above, and it represented a much better option than scaling up the face of a mountain through who knew what sort of defenses.

 

Only two squads of PDF stood in defensive positions, including a pair of heavy weapons nests, at the base of the cliff, keeping a vigilent watch of the grasslands around them, completely oblivious to the forms of the wolves crouched not twenty meters away. From this distance, Torvald could count the freckles on thier faces if he had the desire. Instead, his face split into a wry grin and he reached up to click the vox. Go.

 

Aravind was the first to act, a pair of shots spaced so closely together that they seemed to impact at once hit the two guardsment manning the right most heavy stubber nest, dropping gunner and loader as the back of thier heads shattered in unison, spraying the sandbags behind them with grey matter and gore. Mikkel took care of the left most nest, a searing ball of white-hot plasma smacking into an ammocrate in the foxhole and blasting all within to small bits with a sudden blast of fire. Knowing that all element of surprise was spent, Torvald and the rest of the scouts lobbed frag grenades into the encampment before drawing thier weapons and charging in. Sjurd poured a gout of flame in a high arch to reach those troops who were furthest to the back, trapping them between the Wolves and the wall of fire, while Torvald and Gudmund unleashed a sheet of metal into the remaining men. Some reacted fast enough to loose off a flurry of lasgun shots at the wolves, one hitting Torvald square on the top of his thigh. Hissing through the pain, Torvald kept up his pace and activated the poweraxe in his hand. Istan advanced alongside him once again, this time with his hammer unactivated, but deadly nonetheless.

 

The pair of wolves plowed into the remaining eight guardsment with feral howls, Torvald decapitating the first as he reacted too slowly to bring his rifle up in defense. Istan flowed like water and followed up Torvald's roundhouse swing with a swing of his own, hammer head smacking wetly into the ribcage of the next trooper beyond. One of the remaining troops shot a short burst at Istan, which he took to his armored chestplate in stride, before Torvald shot him once through the neck before moving on. As the trooper's neck exploded, decapitating him and blowing arterial blood across the encampment, Torvald rolled low towards his next target, sweeping his axe clear through the legs of his foe who dropped like a felled tree, screaming in pain on the ground before Torvald used the momentum of his blow to bring his axe in a high circle to embed it in the fallen soldier's chest. Istan cornered a pair of the remaining troops against the wall of the fissure, and with a mighty swing of his thunderhammer he caught the head of one, the deactivated hammer simply collapsing the skull before carrying the corpse straight into the collarbone of the next before flattening both soldiers against the hard stone of the cliff. A series of shots over Torvalds shoulder from Gudmund and Aravind felled the other two troopers as they struggled to draw a bead on the lightning fast Wolves in their midst.

 

Covered in a fine patina of gore, Torvald and Istan stood unopposed before the heavy gates while the rest of the Wolves drew up around them. Torvald gave them a quick and appraising glance, before turning to Istan. "If you could be so kind, brother?"

 

With a mirthful laugh parting his bloodstained beard, Istan unslung his combi-bolter from his shoulder, leveled it at the gate, and unleashed the meltagun embedded in his bolter into the door. With a loud hiss and a flash of light that caused the Wolves' inner eyelid to slide protectively into place, a great gaping hole appeared in the thick metal, droplets of glowing molten steel dripping to the ground below.

 

"Alright Wolves, lets get this taken care of," Torvald bellowed and ducked into the darkness beyond the gate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whew, ok, that's all I got for tonight. Hope you guys enjoy! More action to come in the next installment, but I hope that this will satisfy you until then!

 

 

-OID

[Ra1stl1n]

That was good :woot:.

Can't wait for the next one

[Thorgrim Blackwolf]

Truly an epic saga and you should send this to black library, it is one of the best fan fictions I have read in years!

 

Keep it up and have an ale on me!

 

Thorgrim

[Roguemarine]

Truly an epic saga and you should send this to black library, it is one of the best fan fictions I have read in years!

 

Keep it up and have an ale on me!

 

Thorgrim

 

I second this Brother.

[OnlyInDeath]

Again, thanks much for the compliments brothers. I dont think i'm on par w/ the BL writers by far, but I am trying to improve my form as I progress along this work.

 

Keep your eyes peeled for an update saturday.

 

-OID

[Jarl Kjaran Coldheart]

Again, thanks much for the compliments brothers. I dont think i'm on par w/ the BL writers by far, but I am trying to improve my form as I progress along this work.

 

Keep your eyes peeled for an update saturday.

 

-OID

 

have you read C.S. Goto???

you might want to re-think the BL comment.

 

WLK

[OnlyInDeath]

Well, obviously there are some that are a bit of a trial to get through, but there's also A LOT of talent there....and I cant really tell if I'm a trial to get through either since i'm the one trying to get ideas across to you guys lol

[lunchb0x]

friggin sweeeeeeeeet.

[Grimmaw]

woooooow

just read the whole thing and its awesome

one of the most gripping reads ive ever had

and i agree with thorgrim send it to BL when its done cos i want to own a copy

 

cant wait for the next installment

 

Grim

[WOLF DOC]

I love this tale brother please keep it coming as I look forward to it everyday... ales on me

[Roguemarine]

I agree, you could definatley get into BL with your work. Keep up the good work Brother.

[Natanael]

Great work! Just got trough all of the texts, and I love it! Really, you should send it to BL.

 

- Natanael

[hartnett]

omg

combat description are awesome coming to the level possibly of gotrek and felix

[OnlyInDeath]

A normal human would have been temporarily flash-blinded by the sudden change in light, from the bright afternoon sun to the pitch black of the service tunnel. However, Torvald's golden eyes adjusted in a heart beat, the tiny ocular muscles flexing with such force he could actually feel his pupils dialate. He took in the surroundings in a glance, his nose telling him before his eyes that there was no immediate threat, just a curving stone ramp that led into the heart of the cliffside, and the mountain behind. The air was surprisingly hot and wet, laced with something that smelled slightly of mildew mixed with the sickly sweet aroma of decay. The hair on the back of Torvald's neck immediately stood on end, and he knew that the way ahead would be significantly more difficult than he expected.

 

The rest of the wolves moved into the darkened corridor behind Torvald, and he could tell by the posture of thier silhouettes intruding into the gloom that they were instantly as on guard as he was. Gudmund and Istan moved into flank positions beside Torvald and looked at the scout leader expectantly.

 

"Aravind?" Torvald grumbled, keeping his eyes scanning the darkness ahead of them. He could hear the scout moving up behind him, waiting to be addressed. "I want you to stay in the long grass. We may very well need an avenue of escape, and I'd feel much better with your eyes looking out for us." Without a word, the marksman disappeared behind the pack like a breath of wind.

 

"I have point, Gudmund, take the rear. Lets find ourselves a way to the top of this cliff," the big wolf said, and led his scouts up the incline of the ramp and into the darkness.

 

++++

 

 

Trooper Gavin Valentine once more found himself falling back under the covering fire of the Space Wolves, the third time in roughly half an hour. Each time, he made the sprint down to the next defended position, roughly a couple of blocks up the road. As he tripped and scrabbled along the dibris ridden street around him, he took a moment to glance at the guardsmen retreating around him. He was one of two remaining members of his company, the rest of the men around him a hodgepodge unit scrapped together by the tattered remains of the preliminary lines. The losses for the Imperials in the initial action had been significant, and it was little consolation to know that the losses to the enemy were far greater.

 

At the next intersection, Gavin found the next of the gun lines stretched along the far side, and his makeshift unit vaulted the barricades before sliding down into firing positions on the improvised firing step. This section of Ravik had endured the long years of war slightly better than some of the other boroughs, and the broken remains of the buildings still stood largely intact down the roads to either side of the intersection where he now stood. He looked up and could see the barrels of several long-las rifles poking out from blasted windows and gaping holes in the walls. Heavy weapons teams were arrayed at almost every level available to them, while he could see a screen of infantry spread throughout the buildings, plugging any holes that the enemy infantry could possibly advance upon. He could even see the hunched forms of demolitions teams hunched over something, but exactly what he couldnt make out.

 

For the first time in the battle, Gavin was also comforted by the presense of Imperial armor on the lines, in the form of the mighty Leman Russ battle tanks and the squat forms of the division's chimeras. Up until now, the allied forces had only committed infantry to the defense of the city, drawing the lead elements of the rebels deeper and deeper into the more intact sections of the city, where the streets would form natural bottlenecks. Any tanks participating in the initial phase would have found themselves quickly overrun and isolated, a sure way to get one's self killed. Now, it seemed, the Imperials were closing ranks and tightening the defenses. Now they could exact some revenge upon the advancing hordes.

 

The Space Wolf elements that had once again come to his rescue were slowly advancing down the street towards Gavin's position, falling back with thier faces towards the enemy.

 

Central to the Wolf formation was the gigantic, blocky form of a Land Raider Crusader, flanked on either side by the deceptively squat forms of eight marines in terminator armor. Gavin could remember from his childhood back on Cadia recieving a plastic replica of the feared masterpiece of Mars technology, wishing that he could see a Crusader in action, fighting in the name of the Emperor. All Cadians knew they would die defending His realm, but Gavin had always secretly hoped he would not fall until that wish came true. Now, seeing the beast in action, he lost all awe for the machine, and instead held it in reverential fear.

 

The rebels were advancing quickly upon the Wolve's heels, pouring down the streets in an unending, shambling horde. The infantry that had been advancing after the first several waves was even more mutated than the previous had been, and great weeping sores poured pus down faces to stain the uniforms of the former PDF. Some of the advancing horde were missing chunks of skin or limbs, blasted off in thier advancement into the teeth of the Imperial war machine. If they felt any pain at thier grevious injuries, they showed now sign, but kept running alongside thier demented bretheren.

 

As if on cue, both the retreating wolves and the enemy infantry realized they had range on eachother, and the streets were suddenly filled with death.

 

The rebels' lasguns reached out towards the bulky forms in terminator armor, bathing them in incandescent light. However, the mighty suits of armor were designed to lay siege to the most fortified positions that the enemies of mankind could field, and the energies of the las weaponry was wasted on thier mighty forms, barely being enough to blister the paint or singe the furs of the decorative pelts wrapping the marines. In return, the Wolves leveled thier weaponry and fired.

 

The storm bolters and combi-bolters wielded by most of the squad barked into a rapid staccato, the large mass reactive shells leaving contrails of smoke as they punched into the front ranks of the advancing horde before detonating in a shower of brakishly brown blood mixed with slimey yellow pus. For a moment, it looked as if the rebels might keep advancing into the wall of bolter fire, despite the grevious losses, until the heavy weaponry on in the squad opened up in unison with the mighty form of the Land Raider. A pair of terminator wielded assault cannons cycled into action, the fast feed ammunition belts clattering cartridges into the chambers of the weapons at a prodigious rate as they spat a literal line of death into the horde. The rebel guardsmen were torn to small pieces by the volume of fire spat by the heavy weaponry, tearing through one line in a rain of shells before rending the one behind. The crusader unleashed the power of its hurricane bolters and twin assault cannons as well, and suddenly there was simply no more of the enemy. As the Wolves ceased firing, the only thing to be seen through the clearing gunsmoke was a pile of twitching, steaming flesh laying in putrid puddles or charred lumps. Gavin could hardly believe that several hundred rebels had simply ceased to be.

 

The Wolves took a moment to survey the carnage they had wrought before striding over towards thier idling tank. As they stepped through the hatches, one paused and removed his imposing helmet, revealing a flowing mane of flaming red hair and a matching beard. Gavin saw the form tilt his head, as if listening closely to the eerie silence that had settled over the battlefield. After a moment, the Wolf replaced his helmet and climbed into the awaiting tank.

 

As the Land Raider continued towards the Imperial Lines, Gavin's com-bead came to life in his ear as the command channel burst to life. "Incoming artillery fire! Sanctus, time to shine."

 

 

+++++

 

 

Princepts Tiberius Fallum hunched over in his command throne, the series of cables connecting him to the Manifold of the great engine of war he piloted straining slightly as he willed the Warhound Titan to a faster speed. The moderatai and gunner sitting below and to either side of him were bent over thier work stations, absorbing information from the miriad of sensors studding the nose of the titan both through thier own links to the Manifold, and also simply from watching the readings on the instruments arrayed around them. They were running at full stride, eating up ground in long, loping strides akin to those of a giant bird, pushing their engines to accomplish thier mission as quickly as possible. From the Manifold, Fallum could feel the Machine Spirit of the Warhound baying in anticipation as it bore down on the enemy position. He strained his mind and gritted his teeth in his effort to keep the Spirit at bay, knowing that to give in to the powerful presence would be to lose himself completely, body and soul.

 

The Incendia Lupus was a machine built soley to be a god in the crucible of war. Smaller than it's cousins, the Reaver and Warlord class titans, it still was an imposing sight, at slightly over 14 meters in hight. It strode along in loping strides on reverse-kneed legs and it's hunched, armored carapace shielded the weapons mountings that hung like arms to either side of the main chasis; to one side a pair of turbolasers, and to the other a plasma blastgun. The crew sat in the "head" of the great machine in confines that some found to be claustrophobic, but which Princepts Fallum found comforting. Right now the Lupus had it's head down and weapons stretched to either side for balance, running full tilt towards its target. Fallum could sense the presences of both the Atton Vulpes and Glacies Canis flanking him to either side through the Manifold that connected them all.

 

-Range to contact, 3.4 kilometers- Fallum willed through the Noosphere. He could feel, rather than hear, the acknowledgement from the other Princepts in the formation.

 

-Moderatai, weapons to full power, multiple pulse fire both arms, if you please.-

 

-Understood, my Princepts, weapons charging,- his moderatai thought back to him. The stream of information through the manifold told him that both of the other Warhounds in formation with him were doing likewise.

 

Fallum closed his eyes and opened himself up further to the senses of the beast he piloted. His legs became long and metalic, his arms became filled with fire, willing him to unleash thier fury upon his enemies. His heart beat to the rhythmic pulse of the plasma reactor powering his great machine. He became one with the engine as they bore down upon thier target, and it was all he could do not to take up the feral baying of the Machine Spirit as it finally sighted the first tell-tale signs of the enemy artillery.

 

Ravik stood in a smoking ruin a few kilometers off to the left of the hunting pack, and between them and the city stretched a carpet of man and machine, slowly trying to advance their blunt hammer of military might into the heart of the city to wipe out the Imperial threat. Even as he watched, explosions erupted throughout the city in blossoms of fire and smoke. Fallum paid little heed to the forces to thier north and instead bore down on the artillery pouring death down upon the Imperial lines. Once again, the Imperial forces sought to cripple the artillery ability of thier foe, but it seemed this time they may have learned a lesson from the past. The squat forms of weapons defense platforms swung to the west to face the advancing engines, and Fallum could feel the questing energies as the targeters searched for range on his titan.

 

Finally releasing his pent up rage, Fallum howled into the Noosphere as he willed his weapons into action. Great lances of white energy pulsed and gouts of blue-hot flame reached out, vapourizing the defense platforms with the energy of a small sun. Fallum didnt break stride, nor did he bother targeting the actual artillery. His tank-hunting pattern Mars-class Warhound was tasked with paving the way. In his wake, his sister titans set about the task of destruction. Vulpes used the giant Inferno cannon mounted on its right arm to sweep great gouts of flame through the fuel and ammunition bowsers, while it's vulcan megabolter unleashed a stream of shells half the size of a grown man into the artillery platforms, shredding men and machine with equal abandon. Canis Followed suit with it's megabolter and blastgun, and soon the three machines were leaving a trail of burning mayhem in thier wake.

 

Fallum knew that speed was the essense for his mission. The artillery gunline stretched for several kilometers, and there was no way that his small force had the destructive capability to destroy it all. There simply wasn't enough ammunition between the three engines for the task. But they had bought the forces in the city a small measure of time, and that's all they could hope for against such an overwhelming foe. Turning his engine in a wide turn, Fallum led the pack back off to the southwest, retreating as fast as they had advanced upon the enemy.

 

The rebels were not about to let the retreating warhounds go unpunished, however. Using the motorized carraiges of thier weapons to full advantage, they wheeled around to target the hunched forms rapidly pulling away. In another moment, they unleashed the hell they had been pouring over an entire city on the retreating forms of three lonely Warhounds.

 

Lupus lurched violently as an earthshaker shell glanced off it's port void shield, the energy barrier flaring as it struggled to absorb the force of the explosion. Several more shells rained down around him as Fallum struggled to keep his machine upright through the conflicting blastwaves and the suddenly uneven terrain. He managed to keep his machine upright and was soon outside the range of the rebel guns. Smarting from a direct hit from a siege shell against it's carapace, Vulpes struggled along close behind, it's right arm-weapon dangling lamely as it retreated.

 

Glacies Canis was not so lucky. A medusa battery had shown a level of skill that Fallum would not have believed possible from a lowly PDF crew, and landed it's entire quartet of missiles directly onto the hunched shoulders of the Warhound. The voids were able to absorb the first two hits before finally blowing out in a backlash of energy that drove the titan nose first into the ground, creating a twenty meter furrow in the grasslands as it ground to a sudden halt. The next two missles plowed into the downed titan, no longer protected by it's energy shield, the final missile puncturing the reactor's containment vessel, unleashing the power within in an explosion that lit up the afternoon sky in a miniature sunrise. The pained howl from Princepts Salis of the Canis through the Noosphere cut off in a painful feedback pulse.

 

Incendia Lupus blared a howl of mourning from its external vox speakers, and Princepts Fallum joined in...

 

 

 

End Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

 

Alrighty, got chapter 4 wrapped up in good fashion I think, and I think there's a nice setup for plenty to happen in chapter 5! Many thanks for the compliments, everyone. It's nice to know that I have been able to create something that you all can enjoy, and I really do hope that in some way I can help expand the 40k universe, if only through fan fiction.

 

Hope you all enjoy!

 

Also, big thanks to Custodian Athiair, I hope you dont mind me ripping off some names for the warhounds :lol:

 

-OID

[hendrik]

it's great

i especially like it how the imperials are now silently turning the tide!

[lunchb0x]

Friggin SWEET!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cant wait for the next one man!

[Roguemarine]

amazing, ale around