SW fan fiction

[Beef]

Its hopefully the beggining of a much longer story, starting out with the warring tribes of Fenris and then in the same sort of way asthe ragnar book going through to the initiation bit of a SW to the hero becoming a fully fledged SW, either that or I might just change some details on this such as the long ships to thunderhawks and have them fight chaos marines arther then be Fenrision warrior fighting another tribe?

 

Arjack sat on the long ship staring out at the ocean. It was the one constant in this ever changing landscape. The ocean looked the same now as it did when he was a youth out hunting for Whales on his father’s boat. Now he was hunting for a different kind of prey. He was in overall command of his liege’s warriors in his stead. This did not sit well with Arjack as he paced up and down the longship. As the longships bucked wildly like untamed stallions he found himself staring at his sworn battle brother Lucious Silvermane. Silvermane was called Silvertongue by some of the warriors due to his uncanny way with words and women. He was an ambitious warrior with wolf like cunning and deadly skill with a blade. Lucious was boasting to some of the younger warriors about the sisters he had bedded a few nights ago. Warriors were drawn to Lucious like wolves to a full moon. Men obeyed Arjack due to his position as personal champion to Lord Sven Thunderfist. Lucious could have been in a much higher position in their Lords retinue if not for the incident with his daughter a few years back. It was Lucious skill with a blade that had saved his life from being ended that day and Arjack's intervention on his sworn brother’s behalf. If only Lucious was not so arrogant and intractable he would be destined for great things thought Arjack.

 

Lucious had just finished telling his tale when he saw Arjack looking at him with a hint of amusement in his eyes. Arjack’s skin was grainy and scarred like the great mountains of Fenris. He looked younger than his 40 years of age would suggest and he had served as their Lords personal champion for more than 10 years. He was a man of few words who led by example, a big bear of a man with a barrel chest

‘Do my exploits between the sheets amuse you brother’ joked Lucious ‘or are you jealous of my might at arms’

‘Neither’ laughed Arjack, ‘I just wondered how you had the energy to fight after all the women and drink you consume’

‘Well you know what the rune priests said about me don’t you!’ remarked Lucious. ‘They said I am destined for greatness’

Arjack just laughed, which coming from such a huge warrior sounded like thunder rolling off a mountain. ‘Just don’t die one me before you pay up for that last wager we had, you still owe me 2 flagons of mead. And If I recall correctly Lucious they actually said greatness or death’

‘With you watching my back that might just happen’ joked Lucious.

He immediately regretted what he said as the smile drained from Arjack face. Lucious could see the hurt lying beneath the warrior eyes even as he joked with him. He alone knew the turmoil that beseeched Arjack. Since their lord was injured Arjack blamed himself for his failure. Nobody blamed him least of all Thunderfist but that did not make it any easier for Arjack to beer. He saw Arjacks hand slip to his chest unconsciously touching the scars he received whilst protecting Thunderfist many years prior. It had earned him the title of champion when he singlehandedly fought off his Lords attackers. Arjack had saved Lucious’ life on countless occasions and Lucious had repaid the debt countless times himself. There bond was stringer than molten forged iron. Lucious was about to say something in way of an apology but for once his mastery of words failed him. Before he could say any more Arjack got up and walked to the prow of the long ship to speak to some of the crew.

‘Damn Odin’s beard’ cursed Lucious. It was not his intention to dishonour his brother like that.

‘Land ahead’ he heard Egil Hawkeye call out from one of the other longships. Lucious looked over the side and saw the coastline coming into view. It had been raining all night but he was glad that with the dawn the rain had disappeared just as surely. He could see that the watchtowers were not manned. Good he though, their presence had gone unnoticed. It would make it all the easier to set up anchor and proceed inland to the enemies’ camp.

 

As Arjack bellowed commands to the men Lucious could not help but notice the differences between them. Arjack’s clothes were plain and simple just like his words. Despite his status, as Axe Man of Thunderfist, allowing him certain extravagance, his hut was sparse with just a bed and a weapons rack for his armour and axe. The only thing of note was the little shrine of Odin the Allfather that took pride of place in the corner. Arjack would spend countless hours praying to Odin when not practising or training the other warriors. In contrast Lucious admired finer things like the feel of silk on his skin or the perfumed oils through his beard. Many thought it was feminine of him but none dared say it to his face for fear of reprisal. In comparison to Lucious hut Arjack’s seemed almost barren. Lucious had all manner of jewels and wines from previous raids to impress the long line of women that shared his bed. Despite these differences in lifestyle both were warrior and their most prized possessions were the axe and sword they owned. The axe was gifted to Arjack on his elevation to Champion. It was a plain weapon with a keen edge whilst Lucious blade was finely wrought with enough jewels to buy a small village. Lucious had taken it from a Chieftain he defeated in single combat early in his life and it was the envy of every warrior around. Not even Sven Thunderfist owned such a fine weapon. He could have gifted it to him and reaped the rewards but Lucious was not one to beg favour even from his lord. Lucious smiled inwardly at his own arrogance.

Arjack was getting the remaining warriors out of the long ships. It had been a hard 3 weeks and he had lost one of the four long ships to the ocean or more correctly to one of the myriad creatures that infested the seas. Many ancient creatures lived under the icy depths and it was not uncommon for sailors to be plucked from the decks and dragged down to their deaths in the freezing waters. Some of these behemoths were so large they could consume a long ship in a single swallow. These mighty beasts of legends were the Kraken, stirred up from their slumber deep beneath the oceans by vicious storms. One such Kraken had taken Krom’s Longstop along with his 30 warriors down to their deaths. They had fought valiantly but were ultimately doomed. Their deaths would be remembered thought Arjack upon their return to the villages drinking halls. Such were the horrors they faced daily that they had to be warriors from the cradle to the grave. Babies were gifted axes and those that did not grasp it were cast outside to quickly die in the extreme cold. This hostile environment bred hardy men. As they 3 remaining long ships finished disembarking Arjack surveyed his remaining warriors. He had 30 warriors with him including Lucious along with 30 or so young bloods with Egil Iron Fist and a further 25 Youngbloods with Egil Hawkeye. The Young Bloods were the least experienced of the warriors he commanded and made up 2/3rds of his fighting force. Due to their lack of experience and age they were always eager to prove themselves to their peers. They were extremely aggressive and would plunge headlong into battle against monsters and maniacs alike. There was a time when he and Lucious were once Youngbloods convinced of their own invincibility and dared the enemy to prove them wrong. Confident and fresh after 3 weeks at sea the Youngbloods buzzed with the enthusiasm of youth and the chance to prove themselves in front of heroes such as Arjack and Lucious. The Youngbloods knew that they had been given a chance to become true heroes themselves. This knowledge coupled with a flagon or two of ale would make a fine line between acts of heroism and those of reckless stupidity. Youngbloods were known to charge heedlessly into enemy commanders or champions and would usually bite of more than they could chew with disastrous affects. These gambles would pay off and some would come to the attention of their Lord. The lapse in discipline was overlooked and with proper guidance the young bloods savagery could sometimes turn the tide of a battle. Due to this Arjack had assigned each of the 2 packs of Youngbloods with a member of his own retinue. Egil Hawkeye would curb their enthusiasm with barked commands whilst Egil Iron Fist would take the more direct approach and split the head of any Youngbloods stupid enough to disobey his commands.

Lucious was busy talking to the warriors who made up his and Arjack’s pack. These were no mere Youngbloods but seasoned veterans in their prime. Though they were equally hungry for honour as their younger brethren, but their raw aggression had been tempered and honed through countless years of war. These warriors could be counted on to hold against hordes of the enemy until they were ankle deep in their blood. Just as he had finished placing a wager with one of the men, a tall broad warrior with long blond hair tied in a top knot and a beard that looked like he had stored last nights meal in, he looked up to see Arjack striding towards them.

‘How goes it brother’ Arjack asked him

‘All is coming well’ he replied grabbing the warrior he was previously talking to, ‘Jarek here bet me he will kill more men than I do today. What say you?’

‘Well brother if you talk half as much as you do on the battle field, Jarek may have a chance’ replied Arjack patting Jarek on the back.

‘When do we head out to slay those bastards Lord?’ enquired Jarek.

‘Soon, Jarek, soon.’ replied Arjack still unused to being referred to as Lord.

‘Just make sure you don’t get too carried away again,’ joked Lucious ‘and leave some for the rest of us.’

 

There would be plenty for them all thought Lucious after the loss of Krom and his men. They were sorely undermanned and not for the first time had he thought this battle was ill advised but Arjack had a personal score to settle. Perhaps with heroes like Arjack and himself, he thought with a smile, they had a good chance of pulling this off. If they died in the process then Valhalla awaited them. Either option was better than dying an old man in his bed. He could hear the Youngbloods boasting and making oaths and he returned his attention back to Arjack who was busy sharpening his axe even though it could slice a man in two. He told him to make sure that the Youngbloods stay out of his way or they may accidently be cut down by him. Even though Lucious was joking he said it loud enough for the Youngblood’s to hear. They cast nervous glances at each other and the noise they were making seemed to lessen if only for a moment. He glanced around the camp taking in the scenes of men getting ready to march to war. One of the warriors was beating a drum loudly to herald their arrival to the enemy. Arjack had insisted the enemy know they were coming against Lucious’ advice. His pride would not allow them to sneak into enemy’s camp like thieves. Despite his better judgment Lucious was impotent to do anything about this order as Arjack’s word was law now. None would have even dared question his decision but Lucious and Arjack had been brothers in arms from their early days as Youngbloods. They had risen up the ranks of Sven’s war band together. Now they were the last survivors of their pack. These beardless young boys that had joined their fighting force did not know or remember some of the great warrior that had died before them. How much longer before only one of them was left? The thought filled Lucious with sorrow. Would the lone survivor turn out like Bjorn Bzear? Bjorn was one of the few long beards accompanying the war party. All his comrades had been killed years ago to the man. There was no rank or pack for him. Nothing but revenge and the chance to die a glorious death in battle remained. He had sworn a great oath to win glory in the name of his former comrades or die trying. Bjorn shunned the company of his fellow warrior preferring to sit alone. Such a solitary lifestyle was an anathema to Lucious who revelled in the adoration of his fellow brethren. He wondered if today would be the day Bjorn fulfilled his oath and felt he should say something to the warrior but once again words failed him. This was an ill omen for Lucious Silvertongue. He moved over to Arjack’s side as dawn was breaking.

‘Brother we go now to fight the treacherous Geldenhammer Clan’ boomed Arjack, silence followed as all the assembled warriors listened to his every word.

‘Some of you will not make it back, be sure in the knowledge that if you fight well you will be with your ancestors in the drinking halls of Valhalla. Show no mercy to the enemy. For Odin the Allfather and for Sven Thunderfist’ shouted Arjack raising his axe. The assembled warriors returned the chant and with that the order was given to advance.

[Monstra Sumus]

Looking good fella.

I'd like to see some more, always love a good space wolf story.