The Death of Traxos 3

[Jonas Stromclaw]

Here is my first attempt at writing 40k stories. Please critique, and bear in mind this is just the prolouge.

 

A woman in a torn dress fell to the floor in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by skulls, sigils, and leaking corpses. A man, soaked in blood, advanced on her with a twisted blade raised high...

 

"Cut! Cut!" screamed Prof. Thorell. Director Asten signaled the the holocam crew to stop rolling with a weary wave. "What is it now Thorell?" he asked the scrawny little man. "She is falling in the wrong postion! She needs to be centered amidst the relics and other sacrifices..." Asten tuned the annoying proffesor out. Constantly throughout the filming for the holodrama, Chaos Ascendant, Thorell had insisted on little tweaks, especially the scene where cultists summoned a daemon. Asten would have told the little man to frak off weeks ago had he not offered to make an accurate ritual for the daemon-focused horror flick as well as a considerable sum to fund the production. What a small university proffessor in a mid-hive institution was doing with such a large amount of credits, Asten had no idea. But if it got his movie made... "Instruct them as you see fit," Asten said, pointing in the direction of the actors, who seemed on the verge of mutiny.

 

The proffesor hesitated. "Perhaps I should take the place of the cultist, as a dry run to show how." Asten sighed. "Very well." Thorell walked forward, taking the dagger from the male actor before turning to speak earnestly to the young woman. Asten looked around at the eight-pointed stars and eye hurting symbols that covered the set. More of that smelly little man's "necessities", he thought. "And action!"

 

The woman ran forward, screaming, before falling in the middle of a raised platform at the center of the set. Thorell stalked forward, blade raised high. Suddenly, he grabbed the girl and stabbed the blade into her chest. Asten jumped as, instead of the snick of a collapsing plastek knife, a squelch followed by gushing blood and more screaming sounded. The proffesor twisted the knife as the young actress struggled, bleeding her last on the fake altar. Suddenly, Asten detected the scent of ozone and a deep chill crept into the room. He touched his nose, feeling blood leaking out. Maybe that altar wasn't so fake...

 

A swirling vortex of madness crept into existence above the set. Inhuman screeches, roars, and sounds so alien they tugged at Asten's very soul poured forth. An armored form, deep blood red, stepped from the rift. A twisted creation, once an honorable servant of the Emperor, now a servant of dark gods. It raised its bolter as more figures appeared behind it. "We have come to bear the Word of Chaos!" The set was filled with the sounds of bolter fire and the screams of the dying.

 

That's all for now, the Imperium's response coming up next!

[Jonas Stromclaw]

Chapte 1: The Fang, Fenris, 692 M41. Feasting hall of the 8th Great Company, the Banewolves.

 

"Alright whelps, quit your yapping and listen up!" Beorn looked up from his arm wrestling match, allowing his packmate, Horst, to slam his fist home before laughing in glee. A grey hunter reached over and smacked the bloodclaw into silence. Beorn ignored his wolf brother and looked about the cavern. Long banquet tables overflowing with platters of elk and caribou stood in disorderly rows. Kegs of ale were stacked around all the walls. Above massive victoy banners and captured enemy standards hung from the undressed stone ceiling. At the head of the massive chamber, Wolf Lord Oskar Krakensbane stood up from the head table. He addressed his company.

 

"As much as I know you all want to sit around on your fat arses, swilling beer and complaining about the cold like a bunch of-" groans and roars of dissent drowned him out. He slammed the haft of his massive frost axe into the floor, finally regaining silence. "As I was saying, despite your unmanly dislike of combat, we have been called to war!" Howls of joy echoed across the chamber as some bloodclaws, thinking the old man was done, began a chain axe juggling contest. Oskar turned, grabbed a wooden shield off the wall and hurled it at the younglings. He continued the "briefing". "The world of Traxos 3 has fallen to the Archenemy. Chaos cults have arisen in the three largest hives. Governor Hadrius was hanged from the main Administratum building six months ago. The Imperial Guard responded but were driven back with massive casualties." One of the marines at the high table snorted and asked, "So what made them decide they needed our help? Not that they always do or anything..." The Wolf Lord smiled, showing massive fangs. "Segmuntum command requested our assistance when survivors confirmed the presence of Word Bearer traitors!" This time there were no interruptions. Every wolf was silent, there visages twisted in hatred, excitement, glee, or a mix thereof. Excitement at battle, glee at the thought of engaging traitor scum, and hatred at the memory of what these foul heretics had done in the past. Krakensbane looked about, satisfied that his troops had gotten the message, then said, "We leave in four hours."

 

* * * * *

 

"Well Beorn, finally we get back into combat!" Horst said, clapping his battle brother on the shoulder. Beorn grinned, showing his fledgling fangs. "Just make sure you keep that toaster pointed at the enemy. I'd hate for my saga to end ignobly as a cloud of steam," he said, tapping the melta gun Horst had slung over his shoulder. Horst snorted. "What saga? The tale of you keeping puny cultists off my back while I vaporise daemon princess and traitor lords?" His battle brother smiled as thier thunderhawk touched down in the Star Fang's launch bay. "Ah, thy inestimable wit. I was wondering where it had gone." "You know, Beorn, you're starting to sound like a bloody smurf, always so grammatically correct-"

 

"Shut up!" Wolf Priest Alwar said, bashing the pups' heads together. The grizzled veteran glared around at the bloodclaws. "You have your berth assignments, get to them. Old Oskar wants to make the jump as soon as possible." The bloodclaws looked at each other, confused. Alwar wasn't the most good humored individual any day, but today he seemed particularly vicious. "What's a matter boss?" Jormund, the arbitrary pack leader, asked. Alwar snarled, "My business pup, not yours." Alwar seemed about to bite Jormund's head off but instead just said, "You and Beorn report to the Iron Priests when the initial jump is through. Apparently Oskar wants you lot a bit better armed." The ramped dropped and the bloodclaws ran onto the the ship, but not before Beorn heard Alwar mutter, " And not without good reason."

 

 

 

Planetfall will be whenever I can get time. If you read it please give me some feedback so I know if I'm wasting my time.

[Sgt Rafen]

I like it so far but I doubt there would be a holodrama of chaos in the Imperium, pretty sure the inquisition would be concerned about citizens becoming chaos cultists spreading.

 

Chain saw juggling? :D

[Jonas Stromclaw]

Hey, they're wolves! :rolleyes:

And as for the holo, the hive is already infiltrated and its not likely to attract inquistion attention. Yet.