Skaldnir Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 honestly i pay alot of money for far worse literature. On a sidenote the phrase rip your heart out thru your chest has become my favorite threat Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DGC Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 Great to have another installment - this is really a great read and I second every positve comment from your fellow wolves. I'm not too bothered by spelling mistakes or gramatical correctness although I understand the need for them but the story and characters are coming together and growing beautifully even with the few 'errors' that there are. Keep it up. Am I right in memory that you will be pulling this all together when it's finished?? That would be the time to sort out the spelling etc. Until then, let the saga continue. And to all our brothers in the fang, if you are reading this story, give the man some encouragement DGC Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Growler67 Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 The OP asked for C&C and those of us that have given such have been told that it is appreciated. OID also stated it is a draft and so the minor nits will be addressed I'm sure. Refining it all will happen at some time I have no doubt. Consider this a "courtesy copy" for proof-reading purposes. I do not know if OID is going to submit this anywhere when it is done, but we all have been encouraging his efforts to date. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wolf Guard Nostromo Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 I, along with many others I suspect, continue to enjoy your work. Good stuff, keep it up. I'd offer you an ale, but that might lead to many more and delay the next installment ^_^ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted July 21, 2009 Author Share Posted July 21, 2009 The OP asked for C&C and those of us that have given such have been told that it is appreciated. OID also stated it is a draft and so the minor nits will be addressed I'm sure. Refining it all will happen at some time I have no doubt. Consider this a "courtesy copy" for proof-reading purposes. I do not know if OID is going to submit this anywhere when it is done, but we all have been encouraging his efforts to date. Growler has got it right on, actually. This is actually the first substancial work that I've put together (before this I've only done a few short stories), so it's definately a learning experience. I'm hoping to take what I've learned over the course of the book to be able to go back in the revision stage and really polish the story up. I do appreciate all C&C, and try to use them to better the quality of the work. On a side note, I am now putting the chapters together in MS Word before posting as of the last 2 posts (chapter 6 and what's up of 7), so the spelling errors are pretty much over (unless I somehow missed a big red underline while writing, or if it's the wrong word but spelled correctly). As for the other gramatical errors such as proper nouns and whatnot, I may just end up sending the revised draft to Growler before posting it up so he can help me out w/ that :P Nitpicky grammar was never my strong suit. -OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Growler67 Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 Another thing I noticed are phrases like "falling down to the earth" and other "earth" references. I would suggest falling to "ground" or "ripping up of the planets' crust" instead of the earth references. Placing your perspective from a more galactic point of view rather than a terran one. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Roguemarine Posted July 21, 2009 Share Posted July 21, 2009 great installment brother. i hope you are drinking plenty of ale and eating a boar a night. you deserve it. I'm enjoying seeing the relationship between fenring, torvald and istan developing...you said be patient and you did not disappoint. @ growler, i agree with that thought about keeping it at a galactic level instead of a terran one. I didn't catch that until i read your comment. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted July 22, 2009 Author Share Posted July 22, 2009 Indeed, neither did I. Good catch brother! That's just one of those mindset things that you will never catch unless someone else points it out ^_^ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Natanael Posted July 23, 2009 Share Posted July 23, 2009 Great work so far, brother. Just read the last part, and I have to say that I really like it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
spjaco Posted July 23, 2009 Share Posted July 23, 2009 Now I have to say that the term "earth" when not capitalized, meaning "THE EARTH" can be used for any planets soil, just another way us humans have of offending everyone out there without having even met them yet, LOL. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Natanael Posted July 28, 2009 Share Posted July 28, 2009 We miss the next part :( Please, OID, give us more! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted July 29, 2009 Author Share Posted July 29, 2009 expect a new post within the next couple of days. I finally have a little break in the hellstorm that is work, so I should have a little more energy at the end of the night. Tonight tho, it's a glass or two of scotch in celebration of making it through the past month of work lol. Keep an eye out, OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DGC Posted July 30, 2009 Share Posted July 30, 2009 Patiently panting :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted August 5, 2009 Author Share Posted August 5, 2009 The ground squelched wetly under Fenring’s heavy tread as he strode through the makeshift encampment the Wolves had been able to hastily erect after the battle. Supplies were few and the rain was constant, but that couldn’t dampen the mood of the men. Lounging inside their rhinos, those unfortunate enough to have been late dangling out in the rain by the assault ramps, Fenring could hear the boasts of the marines as they told and retold their exploits in the battle. Raucous cheers greeted those whose stories piqued interest in their brothers, while groans and jeers rose up against those who embellished a bit too much into their own saga. It was a familiar scene after a battle. The Wolves still had the battle lust in their system, having fought for most of the day, and were easing it out of their systems in a time honored fashion. As Fenring continued his walk further into the encampment, the alternative to friendly jibes and heated argument made itself manifest in the Bloodclaw camp. With bloodlust still raging strong, they behaved on a base level, both primal and feral. Feats of arms in the battle had led to a pecking order amongst the young wolves, and some felt that they had to prove that they deserved their standings. Others believed that they should have a higher standing within the pack, and were ready to challenge their way up. As he came into earshot of the camp, he could hear snarls and yells as the initiates released the remainder of their energy against each other in an all out brawl. He walked up to the edge of the scrum and watched for a few moments, his gall rising in his throat in disgust. Lately, it seemed like the Bloodclaws sent out from the Fang to bolster his depleted ranks had become more and more unstable. They were more prone to fighting amongst themselves to prove their status, as opposed showing their worth against a real enemy. Fenring made a mental note to speak of this with the Wolf Priests when he returned to the Fang. At the moment, he simply wanted to keep his troops from braining each other. “That’s enough!” he roared, striding into the melee and pulling bodies apart. A few of the young marines instinctively tried to lash out at him as he picked them up by the scruff of their necks, but a thunderous jab to the face quickly took the fight out of them. Finally, panting, the pack stood staring at him, and he felt a chill along his spine at how…animal the gaze was. Growling, he moved into the middle of the pack. “It seems you curs have a little too much time on your hands. Fortunately for you, I have just the solution. Erik, take your pack and patrol sector twelve. Olaf, sector thirteen. Perhaps a little walk in the rain will cool your heads.” He turned, walking back the direction he had come. “If I hear any reports of fighting, the offenders and their packs will see nothing but sentry duty aboard the Iron Hide for the next century.” He paused to glare back over his shoulder at the pups, his piercing gaze drilling the point home. Sulking, they picked up their weapons and walked off into the darkness. As soon as they were out of sight, Fenring heaved a sigh. This day was proving to be more trying then he thought. He knew that it was a matter for the Priests, but he still could not help but to be troubled at the animosity that was apparent in the Bloodclaws. Granted, the Sons of Russ were definitely less cultured than many of the other space marine chapters. Instead of abandoning that which born them, the Wolves instead embraced it. They continued the legacy of what it meant to be a survivor upon one of the harshest planets in the Imperium of Man; small tribes clinging to life against a furious sea and an ever changing landscape. . Considering the constant threats upon that Imperium, it seemed a fitting analogy, Fenring thought to himself. And while the harsh life led to a level of barbarity, it also bred headstrong, devout warriors who cared for those who they defended, those to weak to defend themselves. It was a badge of pride that the Wolves of Fenris carried with them the traditions of their people. And in taking the geneseed of their Primarch, they empowered themselves with a beast that would let them continue their battle upon a whole new plane. However, more and more, it seemed that the beast was getting the best of them. The veteran Grey Hunters had voiced the same conclusion to him more and more frequently within the past few decades. The newer recruits were becoming harder and harder to control, fighting more like savage beasts then trained marines. In addition, the length of time that it took the Bloodclaws to raise up to the status of Grey Hunter was increasing. In a gradual process of attrition, the number of veterans available to him was slowly dwindling, while the number of Bloodclaws was increasing. It was a very dangerous trend that threatened to change the way that Space Wolves fought. Could it be possible that the curse of the Wulfen was finally becoming too strong to ignore? Fenring frowned in thought. It was possible, of course. It had happened to other chapters, including the Blood Angels and their successors. It was only logical, that after ten millennia of genetic engineering of the same DNA, there would be an inherent level of degradation. There could also be other reasons, however. The Wulfen gene was a defense against Chaos, and it was possible that the slow collapse of the Imperium, combined with the ever increasing encroachment of the Ruinous Powers into the material realm, could be leading to a dominance of the Wulfen gene. A kind of genetic failsafe that increased the fury of the Wolves the more dire the inherent threat. Again, Fenring sighed. Becoming a Wolf Lord and gaining the knowledge that came with the position made for difficult questions, and never a simple solution. He raised his face to the cool rain that was pouring down from the canopy above, and let the water trickle down his face and beard. It felt good to feel something clean and pure after bathing in the smoke and blood of battle. Sometimes it seemed like he could never fully escape the scent of battle. Running his hands through his unkempt locks, he looked down towards his feet and found himself standing in pool of chalk white water as the grit and dust that had coated him throughout the fight finally washed from the plates and joints of his armor. He gazed somberly at that pool for a long moment. If only the troubles of the Chapter were so easily washed clean. +++++++ Arriving back at the main motor pool, he found that the Iron Priests had not been idle. Tripods were set around the edge of the main clearing, throwing back the night with stark white sodium lighting. Rain flashed down like miniature las-bolts through the lighting, and fist sized moths were fluttering about the lamps, casting strange shadows into the camp. A ground hugging fog floated lazily up from the damp ground, enshrouding everything below Fenring’s knees. Between the lazy undulating of the mist, and the wall of blackness beyond the trees that fenced them in with reflected light, it was easy to imagine that somewhere on the walk back into camp, he had died and now found himself in the Halls of Russ, joining his fellow brothers to endlessly test themselves against each other while they awaited the Wolftime. Smiling at the comforting thought, he walked amongst the teeming crowd of Iron Priests and servitors who busily went about the business of repairing the company’s armored vehicles. Almost every single tank has suffered some sort of battle damage, and showers of sparks showed where plasma torches pried the scorched and buckled plates from the proud hulls. To his right, the entire flank of a predator annihilator had been peeled off the frame, testament to the battle cannon shell that had blasted the lascannon sponson clear off the tank. Servitors crawled within the skeleton of the tank’s frame as they repaired the twisted hull. To his left, an Iron Priest was laying a new tread onto the monstrous form of his personal land raider crusader. Incense wafted around the Priest, even with the heavy rain pouring down around him, and he applied generous amounts of blessed oils to the hull of the crusader from a small container contained within the folds of the Priest’s robes. The scene was repeated along the long, twin lines of the parked armor, and as the leader of the Iron Wolf great company, watching the industrious workings of his Iron Priests set Fenring’s mind at ease. He came upon a figure that was observing the chaos of the maintenance, resplendent in golden armor plates that were rimmed in black cog-like border. A maroon tunic hung around the broad chest of the figure, the stylized symbol of a riveted wolf’s head encircled by the black and white cog wheel of the Mechanicum woven with silver and ebony thread upon his breast. Upon his back, a servo-harness hung motionless with a pair of plasma cutters dangling from the lower two arms, two large utility arms shaped in the image of wolves gnashing their metal teeth arched over his shoulders, slouched in an idle position. Grasped in the figures hand was the symbol of his office: A great, gilt worked thunder hammer as tall as the man himself that ended in a giant bronze hammer head fashioned into an iconic representation of the Iron Wolf itself. It was the symbol of the Iron Lord of the great company, Jairn Steelheart, the man second in command only to Fenring himself. “Well met, Jairn, how go the repairs?” Fenring moved to stand beside the bulk of the priest. “As well as can be expected in this rain, my lord. The servitors keep having shorts and the plasma cutters are having trouble getting up to temperature,” Jairn responded, “so of course we will have the refitting done by morning.” Jairn turned his monstrous form to greet the Wolf Lord, a wry grin splitting his features. “Of course, pointless questions by those who should know better would only serve to delay the efforts.” Fenring barked a quick laugh, grateful for the mirth to break his solemn mood. “You will have to forgive this old wolf. Without my daily ale ration, I’m afraid my mind may be slipping a bit.” One of the servo arms reached down behind a fold in the Iron Lord’s tunic and retracted bearing a large silver flask which it extended towards Fenring. “It may not be fresh from the hall of the Fang, but I believe this may help,” Jairn replied. Fenring took a moment to take a long swig from the flask, gasping in pleasure as the liquid burned down his throat, before handing it back to the priest who likewise took a pull before replacing it within his tunic. “And who says those trained in the Martian forges forego the pleasures of flesh? Jairn, my friend, you are Emperor sent.” Jairn allowed a look of curious look to flash over his otherwise passive features. “What troubles you brother?” Fenring simply smiled grimly over at his second in command. He opened his mouth to respond, when a burst of noise from his vox cut him off. “My Lord, I have the scout party, returning to your position. ETA eleven-hundred hours, local.” Just as abruptly as it came to life, the vox cut out in a wash of static and then silence. Jairn noted the change in the Wolf Lord’s expression and raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me for saying so, Fenring, for we of the forge are unused to the simple emotions of a human mind, but you don’t seem like your mood is much improved by the news.” Fenring glared at Jairn’s flat tone. The damn priest knows far to easily how to get under my skin, he thought to himself. With a rumbling sigh, he reached across and pulled the flask out of Jairn’s tunic himself, taking a long, deep drink while he turned to walk away. “You may do well to remember what it means to mind one’s business, priest. Thanks for the drink,” Fenring replied, walking away with the flask. Jairn watched the Wolf Lord stride away between the rows of tanks, an arched eyebrow again breaking the level gaze of the priest as his servo arms opened and closed with his idle thoughts. Finally, with a shrug, he turned back to supervise the work at hand. End chapter 7 Sorry for the long wait guys. Life has been rather busy as of late. I hope it's been worth the wait, and I am trying to work out some sort of schedule where I can get some more time to get writing in. Thinking of also getting one of those new mini notebooks to be able to write wherever I want :tu: . I actually wanted to try and incorporate the new rumor of what's surfacing in the codex as far as the direction the chapter is going. It actually will make for some great writing, IMO, and should provide a nice little storyline over the novels. Anyway, hope you enjoy, I'll try and keep the updates a little closer together. -OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Natanael Posted August 5, 2009 Share Posted August 5, 2009 Good read, as always. I am reallt looking forward to reading about the meeting of Torvald and Fenring. =D Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Roguemarine Posted August 5, 2009 Share Posted August 5, 2009 excellent work brother, an ale for you, and likewise i'm looking forward to the meeting again. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Grimmaw Posted August 5, 2009 Share Posted August 5, 2009 Awesome as usual OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jonas Stromclaw Posted August 6, 2009 Share Posted August 6, 2009 Aahhh... Like good razvhod! Excellent as usual. Have an ale. ^_^ Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
And a Barrel of Ale Posted August 6, 2009 Share Posted August 6, 2009 excellent as usual, thanks again OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted August 7, 2009 Author Share Posted August 7, 2009 Well, I'd like to give a big thanks to everyone who's stuck with the story so far! My wife loaded it up into the "novel" view in word, and it comes out to a 107 page rough draft so far. Lord only knows how you guys put up with that much underdeveloped story and bad spelling :) Seriously though, thanks for hanging in there guys. This project has become much much more ambitious then originally planned. At first it was just going to be a "short story", but it has blown up to this scale before I knew it! I hope you guys can hang in there till the end, though at this rate the final edit is going to take quite a while. Like I said a while back, hopefully Growler will help me out with some of the finer nitpicking editing. But yeah, hope to get another chapter up sometime this weekend, so stay tuned, and thanks again! -OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Growler67 Posted August 7, 2009 Share Posted August 7, 2009 I'd be happy to help in any way I can. I haven't gotten to the last two chapters yet. Been working on applying for a job position that would require another move if I get it. Been tidying things up around the house so things can go more expeditiously if the job comes through. I've got a week of "mids" so I'll try to get caught up. I'm a detail oriented person, always have been. I guess it serves it's purpose with my job too. Just let me know what I might be able to do for you. I'll do my best. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Roguemarine Posted August 7, 2009 Share Posted August 7, 2009 i can't find who posted it but someone mention paying for literature that is terrible...waiting is so worth your reading brother. It is a great work, also bear in mind that "normal" editing and writing i believe takes 1-3 years before a book is published. you are doing excellent keep up the exceptional work and we will all be looking forward to every installment you put out there... p.s. besides you can't be any worse than battle for the abyss........and that had a SW in it Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted August 22, 2009 Author Share Posted August 22, 2009 For those of you who have been very very patient and still remember this thread, I am finally working on chapter 8, should have it up by later tonight or tomorrow. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OnlyInDeath Posted August 22, 2009 Author Share Posted August 22, 2009 Chapter 8 Torvald looked out of place in his muck encrusted armor and disarrayed hair. The cold wind whipped through the ad-hock pavilion that the Wolves had erected in a forest clearing. A stark white tarpaulin stretched tightly overhead, the rhythmic beat of a slow rain drumming incessantly against the taut canvas. The loose walls of the tent billowed and snapped in the stiff breeze that drove the rain down. Torvald sighed to himself, releasing a small cloud of flaked grime from his armor. The temperament of the weather suited how he felt perfectly, and he reflected darkly on their return to the great company. +++++ The view of Ravik had shocked even Torvald. They had to skirt the city, as the plasma fires and nuclear glow of lance impacts still radiated deadly heat and radiation, causing the air above the city to dance as if it were a mirage. Broken buildings, seared to the color of white ash jutted up above the rubble that coated the ground like a dried river bed. Nothing remained truly upright, and grey-white ash floated on the breeze, further distorting any efforts to gaze too deeply into the destruction. It was as if the city was trying to shield the world from the pain and misery that had been visited upon it. Somewhere in the ash and haze were scattered the particles of thousands upon thousands of slain soldiers. There would be no claiming Ravik by either side after this. There was nothing to claim besides a cluster of craters and rubble that stretched kilometers in any direction. When turned upon itself, the weapons of mankind can sew terrible destruction, Torvald thought to himself grimly. With the introduction of the Space Wolves to the theatre, the war had escalated so incredibly fast that it had taken days to sew destruction that had not been wrought in years of fighting. Finally, the land speeder that ferried the scouts circumvented the ruined city and made its way quickly over the trench works that lined the northern side of Ravik, barbed wire and foxholes blurring with speed as the craft floated over them at speed. It made directly for the forest edge denoting the end of no-man’s land, and Torvald’s keen eyes made out the busy form of the Imperial encampment just within the trees. Even with the total destruction of the enemy, the officer in charge was not taking any chances and the automated turrets of several chimeras tracked the speeder as it zipped along the tree line. Guardsmen dug in along the perimeter peeked up from their foxholes, the long barrels of the heavy stubbers and autocannon hung listlessly as they watched the speeder with mute curiosity written across their weary faces. Finally, Torvald could pick out the pale grey armor of the Iron Wolf great company, and the speeder took a wide swing to dart in amongst the trees, expertly dodging around the dangerous trunks. In a jarring shudder, the grey hunter pilot cut in the retro thrusters and the vehicle slowed abruptly, gently gliding into the Wolves’ motor pool. The craft drifted to a halt amongst several other makes and models of idle speeders, before settling towards the ground. The anti-grav cushion of the speeder bobbed the craft like a boat in water as the wolves extricated themselves from the cramped, cage-like confines of the transport compartment of the land speeder storm. The exhausted scouts helped each other out of the craft, weary limbs helping the fatigued bodies of their brothers down, sweat pouring down their gaunt features. Fever gripped each of the scouts, and they all looked much worse for their wear. Torvald was first out of his side of the speeder, and was helping the hulking form of Gudmund from the speeder when he noticed the craft lurched dangerously as Istan vaulted out the opposite side of the craft. The wolfguard stormed away from the scout party without a parting word, and was quickly lost from sight amongst the Rhinos and Predators in the compound. Torvald stared after his old friend, and then shook his head in resignation. He would have to give him some time, but Istan would come around. He always did. Torvald returned to helping the rest of the squad from the speeder, noting how pallid and drawn each of the scouts looked. Their armor was resting loosely across their frame, and Sjurd’s red hair stood out almost painfully against his near transparent skin. Black snakes of veins stood out clearly in their features, and Torvald felt a moment’s trepidation as concern washed over him for the wellbeing of his pack. “Get your selves cleaned up and then head to the medicae. I want the Wolf Priest to personally see to your conditions. Understood?” Torvald ordered his men. They nodded wearily and set off into the encampment, searching for the armory so they could dispose of their filth ridden regalia. Taking a moment to relish the relative silence after spending hours enduring the high pitched whine of a land speeder, Torvald tilted his head back and let the cool rain patter against his fevered skin. It felt good to be once more amongst the Wolves. When he was out on his scout missions, however short they were, there was always some sense of dislocation that came over him. Unlike most of the Space Marine chapters that existed, the bond of a Space Wolf to his kind went much deeper then anyone would think. Where a typical marine would feel a brotherly bond towards his fellow marines due simply to the fact that they endured the absolute worst that the galaxy could throw at them, and they came out the other side with a brotherhood forged in the heat of battle. And while the Wolves experienced this as well, their bond also came from a common heritage. They were all drawn from the same planet, sometimes from the same tribe. And the addition of the geneseed to their bodies brought into their souls the aspect of the wolf. They became part of a pack as a whole. And while there may be rivalry and jockeying for position within a pack, it was still the only place where a veteran wolf truly would feel like he belonged. Wherever his pack was, would be home. Torvald’s home had always been in the heart of the Iron Wolves, and as the rain washed the grime and stink from his features, he could smell even through his muddled senses the familiar scents of engine grease, promethium and unwashed bodies that told him, deep within who he was, that he was home. The whine of servos announced the presence of Jairn, and Torvald turned towards the approaching Iron Priest. Thus far, Torvald had not had the opportunity to greet his old friend, and Torvald could tell from the body language of the Priest, more than his neutral expression, that he was pleased to see the scout. Torvald managed a weak grin before reaching forward to clasp the vambrace of the Priest’s intricate armor in a warrior’s embrace. “Well met, Jairn. It looks like you and your lads have had their hands full with repairs,” he greeted, with a nod towards the cleanly painted vehicles arrayed around them. In some cases, the polished sheen of virgin metal could be seen at the edges of the paint coat. “Indeed. The fighting was rather bloody as we pulled out of the city, and I’m afraid that many proud machine spirits have gone to the embrace of the Omnissiah. However, I have tended to my flock as best I could,” he paused, giving Torvald an appraising look. “Pardon my frankness, brother, but you look like a pile of grox droppings,” he added, his face not once breaking into any suggestion of humor. Torvald rattled out a chuckle, the phlegm in his chest catching painfully. “Sweet Emperor, if even you can tell, I must look the mess,” He turned and began to stride down the heavily torn up aisle between the rows of parked vehicles, running his gloved hand across the cool ceramite hull plates of the Rhinos parked to his right. The Iron Priest strode alongside him, his heavy frame sinking ten centimeters into the mud with each step. “How did the battle fare?” he asked as the pair slowly made their way amongst the armor. “Well enough...”Jairn responded. “The analytical side of me would say that it was a decisive victory. The Wolf in me laments the loss of so many of our brothers. The battle was fierce and desperate, and I believe that it was only Fenring taking the reigns ensured that we were victorious. That and a rather large explosion somewhere off to the south, of course,” ha added with a nod towards Torvald. Torvald shook his head. “It was foolish to allow General Crassius to handle overall command. The man has no idea how to utilize a space marine. He will be the end of us before this war is over, mark my words.” Jairn’s servo arms clacked to themselves, evidently in humor. “Perhaps the Lord General was not the most…flexible man of his position, but he will be taking personal tutelage from the Emperor from now on. And Colonel Valentine has proven himself to be a quick study under Fenring.” Torvald paused, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the Priest, who was resolutely looking in the other direction. Torvald held his silent, inquiring gaze at the back of Jairn’s head until the other man finally gave and turned to regard Torvald with a slight smile on his face. “I supposed you will have to meet him yourself. As it happens, I did not meet you upon your return just for a friendly chat, as much as I do enjoy the company of old friends.” He nodded is bald pate in the direction of a large white tend, barely discernable through the thick forest. “Time for another war counsel. Just try not to stink the place up too much. The holoprojector’s spirit has been hard to keep acquiescent lately and I’m afraid one whiff of you and it will simply short itself out of existence.” With that, the Iron Priest strolled off in the direction of the pavilion, leaving Torvald flat footed. ++++ Ok, kinda ran out of steam tonight, so I'll just post what I've done so far. Again, thanks for anyone who's still hanging with this. I should be able to get the chapter finished up by tomorrow night. At least that's the hope. I know it's not much after such a long wait, but I promise I'll try and get more out there more often so you guys can actually get a decent story to read -OID Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DGC Posted August 22, 2009 Share Posted August 22, 2009 Another great installment. And how things are hotting up with the BCs Keep it coming - this will be a legendary tale for the new recruits when they come DGC Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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