Short storey

[Lord Draco]

Just wrote the start of a short story involving my Chapter and just wanted to see what you guys thought.

 

 

The wind blew coldly, as it always did on Mangrem Thricundus. As the farthest planet from its Sun, Mangrem Prime, the planet was used to cold. A light snow fell around Riven’s feet as he looked out onto the capital city. The city, Tenporia, had once been a proud city and the centre of life on Mangrem. Traders can from far and wide, braving the icy tundra laying outsides its walls and the Space Dock was a bustle with life as people arrived and departed the city. Tanporia stood as a testament to mankind’s will to survive even in the harshest environment. Now much of the city lay in ruins, the product of Ork bombardment. Since the xenos had arrived on the planet much of the city had been decimated. As the people had settled in for the harsh end of the winter months, which lasts most of the year on Mangrem, Ork ships had appeared above the planet. The Orks swept across Mangrem, killing and looting, until they came to the walls of Tenporia. The Imperia guard had held the walls successfully for nearly two months, fighting all day and most of the night, but fatigue and heavy losses had taken their toll on the men. The task of delivering Mangrem had fallen to the Sword’s of the Emperor’s Justice.

‘Contact, East Gate!’ Riven’s vox caster shrieked inside his helmet. He snapped from his thoughts and started to run. The Space Marine jogged down a side street, his heavy cermite armour barely missing the narrow walls ether side. His armour was the colour of iron with leg greaves of deep red, unblemished and perfect even though it was now centuries old. His heavy footfalls echoed up the narrow street as he ran and mixed in with loud sounds of bolter fire coming from ahead. In response, Riven checked his own bolter and attacked his combat knife to its magnetic seal. As he ran, Riven began to pray.

‘Russ, Father of Battle, bless your warrior with the fury of the wolf so I may cut down your enemies and spill their blood in the name of Russ. In your name, Father of Battle, and the God-Emperor’s I pray’ He words flowed from his mouth, every syllable layered with feeling. Riven was annoyed that he could not reciting the prays of the other Fathers, such as Vulkan and Dorn, but sounds of battle grew closer and closer until Riven burst from the street and into the large courtyard of the East Gate. Roughly ten fellow Swords were locked in combat with a mob of large Orks. Each one was larger than the Space Marines and had crude rocket devices strapped to its broad back. Riven watched as more Orks jumped over the walls, the rocket packs propelling them into high leaps. Without a second glance, Riven charged the nearest Ork. It was a little larger than Riven, its teeth jutting sharply from its gapping mall. As it saw the Space Marine charge, it let out a primal roar of pure rage and bloodlust. The Ork swung a large axe, aiming for Riven’s neck, but he ducked low so the blade sailed over his head. Riven stabbed upwards, looking to open the Orks neck, and the beast pull back at the last second to avoid his strike. The axe lashed out but once again Riven was too quick. He started on the defensive, ducking and blocking each attack, thus angering his opponent even more. The Ork roared again and pulled back for an enormous swing of its axe. As the blade sailed forward Riven rolled under it, stabbing upwards into the Orks chin. The blade slid up and pieced the Orks small brain, killing it at once.

Riven barely had time to savour the kill when a bigger Ork landed in front of him. From the markings on its armour and head, Riven could tell that this Ork was the mobs leader. It held a giant club in one hand and used it to smash a nearby Space Marine into the ground. The Swords helmet broke on impact and the force of the blow shattered his skull mille seconds later. The Ork than spun round to strike another Sword, lifting him of his feet and sending him flying into a wall. Riven charged the beast, cutting at its huge head with his combat blade. The Ork shrugged of the attack and swung for Riven. He danced back away from the beast but it followed him, bellowing as it came. It made as if to strike with a high attack but as Riven brought his bolter up to block, the Ork kicked his chest with bone crushing force. Before Riven had time to cry out in pain, the Orks mace came down and shattered his shoulder. He felt blinding pain shoot down his left arm as the blow broke bone. Another swift kick sent Riven sprawling onto his back. The Ork loomed over him, laughing as it came, and raised the mace for the killing blow. It was then that Riven switched his bolter into full auto and blasted the Ork point blank in the face. It fell backwards as bolter rounds exploded out the back of its head, ending its life instantly.

Riven looked around the battlefield as he had not the strength to stand. The last of the Orks were dead, killed by Riven’s battle brothers. An Apothecary knelt by his side to examine his arm.

‘Lord Sanguinius favours you today, brother. You’ll live to see the end of this war.’

‘It’s only a flesh wound’ replied Riven and then winced as the Apothecary but pressure on the shattered arm.

‘Even so brother, I will pray for you’ Riven felt his vision darken as his head swam, and he knew unconsciousness was moments away. The Apothecary bowed his head in prayer.

‘Our Lord Sanguinius, help heal your warriors. Make your blood his blood, your strength his strength so that he may live to fight again this day. In your name, Father of Healing and Grace, and in the God-Emperor’s we pray.’ Riven was out before the prayers end.

[The 13th Goat]

Why is this in the Liber Astartes?

[Ecritter]

Because its fluff for his Chapter?

[The 13th Goat]

Its more like a short story, not the creation of an individual IA.