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Tales from the Fang


Firenze

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I have recently been playing alot with my Space Wolves and have decided to create a story series of Spcae Wolves in a conflict with characters based off of people in the SW forum on the B&C.

 

Note: This is not a RP, if anyone wants to be included later on through the series, PM me and I'll see what I can do.

 

Iron Priest Firenze - Firenze

Long Fang Warhorse – Warhorse47

Rune Priest Mikal Wolfheart – Mikal Wolfheart

Rune Priest Irlin the Grey – Grey Mage

Wolf Guard Vassakov - Vassakov

Wolf Guard Leader Ragnarok – Lord Ragnarok

Pack Leader Decoy -Decoy

Wolf Priest Bjoern – Dark Bjoern

Grey Hunter Jonas Stormclaw – Jonas Stormclaw

 

And now, for the first chapter of this saga...

 

Chapter 1

 

The winds where howling, the ice cold gale swirling around the pack as the trudged ever onwards through the blizzard. Iron Priest Firenze stared through the treacherous snow, searching for any signs of their lost brethren. He grunted as he pulled himself over a ridge hidden under the snow. The rest of the pack came up behind him. He turned to Irlin the Grey, the wizened Rune Priest’s face grimacing with the effort of keeping the winds still blowing.

‘Irlin! Are you sure you can keep this up?’ shouted Firenze through the screams of the conjured weather. Irlin nodded hastily. Vassakov trudged up next to the Iron Priest in his heavy Terminator armour as he surveyed the surroundings.

‘Firenze, you see them?’ asked the older Wolf.

‘No Vassakov. There is nothing here I believe. The drop must have sent them way off course,’ replied Firenze.

‘Hmm. Have you checked the beacon at all?’ Firenze cursed himself for not thinking about it sooner. He pulled the small auspex unit off the clip on his belt, scanning the area for life signs and a beacon. The device blinked as it caught the signature of a drop pod distress beacon. Vassakov turned to Irlin.

‘Drop the winds down; I think we may have something!’ The winds suddenly died, visibility returning. The last two members of the pack, a gruff Long Fang toting a Multi-Melta and a young Grey Hunter brandishing a chainaxe and boltgun, came up behind them to walk towards the source of the beacon.

‘We got something then?’ asked the Long Fang, walking past the three Wolves standing on the small ridge. Firenze grinned at him. Warhorse always was a little eager to get into action. He leapt of the small ridge, landing next to the Grey Hunter.

‘Jonas, you still owe me that flagon of mead right, remember that,’ said Firenze to the younger wolf.

Jonas rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, stop going on about it.’

Firenze patted him on the back and ran forwards to take point; his senses always had been highly keen, even after serving the chapter for 250 years.

‘As your so eager Firenze, you can of course take point,’ called Vassakov.

 

It took them only a few minutes as they ran across the open plain of snow to reach the crashed drop pod. The area around it was still steaming because of the heat of re-entry. Firenze ran up to the side of the pod and began trying to pry it open with his servo-arm. The door wouldn’t budge. Vassakov walked up next to him and knocked on the side of the metal pod. A few faint knocks came back.

‘It’s them,’ said Vassakov. ‘Jonas, have you got any grenades?’

The young Wolf grinned and ran forward.

‘What do you think?’

 

A couple of minutes later a series of detonations went off, severing the locking seals that held the doors in place. The doors fell down with a massive clang, sending dirt and snow everywhere. Out of the smoke came another pack of Space Wolves. The largest of them was Ragnarok, a famed Wolf Guard Leader resplendent in his Terminator armour and a veteran of hundreds of actions. Next, came a smaller figure surrounded by a blue halo of light. Rune Priest Mikal Wolfheart, a good friend of Firenze since they were aspirants. Decoy stood strode next to him, his twin wolf claws crackling with energy. He was the closest of all of them who had almost become a Wulfen. Last to emerge from the pod was a Wolf Priest. Bjoern came to walk up to Vassakov.

‘Thank you brother. Never thought we would get out of it. I couldn’t stand Rag’s stink any longer,’ grinned Bjoern. Ragnarok slapped him round the back of the head.

‘Still, shall we get moving?’ said Ragnarok.

‘Yes lord,’ replied the pack. The winds enclosed them once more, and they walked off towards their true destination…

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Ah, I found the second chapter. A little treat for you all.

 

Chapter 2

 

Bolt rounds whipped through the air back and forth. Vassakov charged at the traitor marines stationed on the other side of the plaza. The rounds deflected off of his armour as he smote down the Thousand Son in front of his, cleaving the torso in two with his frost blade. He spun, blowing the head of another clean off with a bolt round to the skull. Just then, a section of the wall came down as a Space Wolf Land Raider Crusader came through, throwing rubble into the air. The weapons commenced a blitz, mowing down the retreating stragglers of the sons of Magnus. Then there was silence. The rest of the squad came out of the cover Vassakov had sprinted from. Firenze bent down picking up one of the Chaos Marine’s helmets in his servo arm. He grunted and crushed it like a tin can. The snow was still falling, slower now than it had been earlier.

‘Humph. The traitor bastards are never really a good fight,’ piped up Jonas.

‘Yeah, and you have seen every traitor marine haven’t you,’ retorted Decoy.

Vassakov grinned at the two, showing his fangs.

‘Come on lads, let’s not fight amongst ourselves,’ said Bjoern.

‘Ha!’ laughed Ragnarok. ‘You’re hardly the little angel!’

Firenze and Warhorse sighed behind the little argument.

‘Lets get moving shall we?’ called Mikal, striding through the ruins a little way ahead. Irlin trudged nearby; a faint flickering halo was floating around his head and staff as he communicated with his psyber-raven who was flying half a kilometre ahead. Nothing as of yet…

 

The group trudged on, stopping once to eat the nutri-paste they all carried. The old hive was once a proud, heaving city. How much has changed, thought Firenze as they walked through what used to be the Plaza Commercia. All around where broken bodies and goods lying where they had fallen when the warp rift had released the hell from the Warp. Firenze spotted a glint of a boltgun poking out of a window to his left.

‘AMBUSH!’ he cried, throwing himself to the floor as a hail of high explosive shells came whizzing over his head. Warhorse stood his ground, raking the building behind Firenze with melta fire. Vassakov looked down at Firenze and nodded. Firenze leapt up as Vassakov ran through the wall of the nearest building, the Iron Priest following suit with his thunder hammer. Bjoern leapt up on the other side of the Plaza, leaping over intervening cover and crashing through the door of the closest building. He spun on his heel, his crackling Crozius Arcanum caving in the chest of the lead Chaos Marine. Behind him, Irlin had unleashed the storm once more, giving cover to the marines outside while Decoy tore through the bodies of the enemy, sending blood and entrails over the walls in a gore spattered display of warrior prowess. In the centre of the square, Ragnarok, Warhorse and Jonas stood their ground, killing all of the traitors who where coming to reinforce with bolter shell and melta. In the building on the other the Plaza, Mikal had joined up with Firenze and Vassakov. The three of them tore through the ranks of the oncoming traitors and summoned Daemons. Firenze leapt ahead down a corridor and to the roof, slamming a snarling blood soaked Khorne berserker into the wall in a wave of force. On the roof he sent an unfortunate marine sailing through a half collapsed window. He howled as Vassakov and Mikal followed the trail of destruction to reach the roof. Mikal span, sending his axe cleaving through the neck of a marine standing behind Firenze, blood spewing from the stump left behind. Turning to look at Vassakov, he sent a spear of lightning towards a marine sneaking up on the burly Wolf Guard.

 

All of a sudden, rounds shredded the air over the top of the Wolves over the plaza, snuffing out traitor marine lives all around. The storm broke as Irlin lost concentration on the spell. From where there was a blizzard of hail and snow, there was a force of Space Wolves. Terminators, Land Raiders, Heavy weapons, all of the force were firing at the fleeing scraps of the failed ambush. As the guns fell silent, Firenze looked down as he felt a sense of loss coming from him, and spotted a chainsword sticking out of his chest. Everything greyed out and he collapsed on the floor. Vassakov turned at the sound, seeing the Iron Priest fall like a rag doll.

‘Bjoern!!!! Get your sorry arse here right now!!!!!! We have a man down! Man down!’

Hoo rah!

 

Nice to see someone including the regulars.

 

You must find a place for Bran Scalphunter and the Eterminatussock somewhere in this mighty tale.

 

This was a good read, humour in there like there should be with us being a fun loving chapter and all.

Very good read, but i have the feeling that the others threat the Wolf Priest a bit too familiar. Even a WL would bow his head before a WP. I think there should be a friendly atmosphere between the WP and the others, but the WP should have a bit more of an aura of authority. Even if they´re close friends i don´t think that a WGBL would slap a WP on the back of his head.
Keep it coming! Also, I've been part of a high risk unit in the past and we do tend to get very close and relaxed. I can easily see the familiarity happening. There is always the knowledge of who is in command but we were closely knit enough to be "brothers" and hand out a load of guff to one another.

Chapter 3:

 

Firenze stirred, waking up to a snoring Wolf Guard. He looked to the source of the noise, spotting Bran Scalphunter asleep on a chair nearby. Firenze lifted himself of the medicae slab, his feet making next to no noise. He snuck up on the sleeping figure and flicked his nose. Bran woke with a roar and swung his flail, jokingly named the Exterminatussock, at the laughing figure of Firenze. Bran grinned at him.

'Nice to see you still live then,' the wolf guard chuckled.

'Thank you Bran. Nice to see you still snore,' replied Firenze, walking over to his armour piled in the corner. He slid the armour on, clamping his right bionic arm back into its socket on his shoulder. He walked out of the medicae tent, obviously in discomfort.

'Are you sure you want to go back in?' asked Bran, all seriousness.

'Yes brother. I can't leave the rest of the pack without me can I?' he laughed. Bran chuckled.

'If you so wish, but I want to come along.'

'Fine, all we need now is a way to get there.'

 

The pair walked over to the vehicle depot, spotting a familiar face tinkering around with one of the Razorbacks guns.

'Schertenlieb!!! Can we borrow your Razorback? We need a lift to CR23!' Bran called. The driver looked down at the approaching pair.

'Sure, I need to give her a run anyways,' said Schertenlieb. He put the tools back in the container nearby and slid into the hatch. The Razorback roared into life, smoke belching from the four exauhsts. The side door crashed down, Firenze and Bran running inside as the transport began to move. The door sealed behind them, the tank began to pick up speed and to their destination.

 

* Within 7 miles of CR23:

 

Growler snuck slowly through the rubble, his camo cloak hiding him mostly from prying eyes. He looked round to the other scout behind him. They called him 'Hidden Wolf' for a reason, Growler could barely see him even as he ran through the more open areas of the rubble. The kept on skulking through the ruins, tracking a chaos cultist squad that had been eluding them for days.

 

Suddenly there was a crunch of breaking glass nearby. The two Wolf Scouts stopped suddenly. Growler levelled his sniper rifle towards the source of the sound while 'Wolf' attached a knife to a wrist mount like a Wolf Claw. They snuck up silently then struck, leaping towards the source. As they came out the building, they saw it was a Wolf Guard in Terminator armour. They tried to stop but by then simple ballistics were in effect as they crashed into him, knocking them all to the ground. Vassakov came round the corner with the rest of the pack and burst out in laughter at the sight of Ragnarok and the Wolf Scouts tangled up groaning on the ground. Jonas grinned and moved to pull them all apart along with Warhorse.

'Well well well... isn't this a suprise!' bursting out with laughter with the rest of the pack.

Okay, I'm sure I'm not the only one doing this, but I decided to model our brothers in these tales. So if any of you have specific requests for shoulder markings, etc. Let me know, btw, Schertenleib, you want an old school or current razorback as your ride?

The proper way to make a Grey Mage involves use of the DA veteran sprue, and alot of SW bits for everything except the body. I still have a runic staff on him.

 

And my runic weapons are an axe and a lightning claw, for the record :lol:.

Okay, I'm sure I'm not the only one doing this, but I decided to model our brothers in these tales. So if any of you have specific requests for shoulder markings, etc. Let me know, btw, Schertenleib, you want an old school or current razorback as your ride?

Current if you don't mind ;)

As for markings I like this rune. Color is not important as it's your model :lol:

gallery_44726_4092_948125.jpg

Oh and Warhorse....

 

Don't forget the ale keg in the Razorback! :)

 

Okay, I'll strap a barrel of Wolf Whiz Ale on "Schert's Scooter"

 

edit:

Here's a pic of the WIP so far. Any requests, make 'em now!

http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff303/Kevin-Andra/002-19.jpg

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