Archangels prolouge almost done... need some comments

[bloodred0114]

The sensation of falling, the one thing that remained to tell him his body yet lived in the mortal realm, the twin sensations of pain and anguish, the only feeling he had felt for centuries. Then the crash, the sensation of falling stopping abruptly as his body hits the hardened Ferrocrete surface of the city twenty stories below. The urban streetscape of the planets capital city in ruins around him Astraman of the Word Bearers legion climbs out of the crater crated by his hulking and falling form. Raising his head to the sky a cruel sound escapes from the vox speakers on his helmet, a high pitched screaming laugh that continues to grow louder as the hulking behemoth stands unhindered by the battle around him.

 

Then from the corner of his eye a black form emblazoned with gold around his shoulders, standing as tall as Astraman himself strides forth. In one fell blow taking Astraman’s head from his shoulders. “Marines, stand your ground. In his holy beneficents do we find our strength. We are his sword, His shield, his fallen wing, we are his Archangels!” boomed the voice of the victorious space marine. “In his name, we go to battle, Archangels, Charge!” The victor swept his blade round to face the enemy and ran at full speed towards them followed by many marines in the same color and design, sharing the same symbols and numbers in the same places. One symbol stood out from the others though. A sword with one black wing attached at its hilt with the visage of Tera in the background. The symbol was the chapter marker of the Archangels space marines, loyal servants of the emperor of mankind.

 

The victor led the space marines through street after street of bloody conflict. The word Bearers not giving ground accept at the cost of many loyal imperial lives, the striding avatars of imperial might however did not stop at the loss of their brothers lives. The colossal shadows they cast walking through the city streets became fewer and fewer as they grew closer to the center of the city and its spaceport escape. “Brother Minear close with the enemy to the left and cut them off. Brother Rantarman take your squad off to the right and open us a path farther along to the next crossroads.” Boomed the victorious gore covered champion of the Archangels, over the sounds of the battle on all sides.

 

His gorget displayed his name to be Marcus Trell captain of the Archangels tenth company. A heroic leader from a time far in the past to most mortal humans, but he was a space marine an avatar and demy-god in his own right, created to last centuries in battle. But as brother Manart was killed beside him Marcus remembered that he was still not invincible, only nearly so. He had started this mission with a full company of marines, now he had only a small twenty man mixed team left at his command.

 

As was the case he knew this was his companys last stand, however if they were to die here they would not sell their lives cheaply. “My brothers rally around me to fight the chaos menace. We will fight for the emperor this day, and we will be with him throughout time forever being reincarnated through our future battle brothers. We are his sword, his shield, his fallen wing, we are his Archangels. Go forth and kill the dammed heretics that besiege us in this once glorious city kill them all.”

 

Marcus raised his power sword up to the sky as the company standard was raised beside him, its gore covered surface gleaming in the light from the matching red sun as it sank lower into the sky. The first of the new wave of chaos marines rushed from a building off to his left, swinging a chain ax over his head and spiting in a demonic tongue, the spiked figure raced towards the captain. As the chaos marine grew closer Marcus lunged with his own blade stabbing the chaos thing through. Black oily blood sprayed forth from the dammed marines’ chest as it fell farther onto the blade. Marcus felt a rushing of air from behind him accompanied by the sound of a heavy bolter firing as brother Klaus opened up with his heavy weapon.

 

The firing stopped abruptly however as a hulking chaos obliterator attacked him from behind, separating the marines head form his shoulders. The chaos abomination cackled and took a step forward toward Marcus. The captain wrenched his power sword free of the corpse it had become entangled in and swung it round. He took the chaos obliterator on its left shoulder and bisected it on a line down to its right hip. The thing groaned with surprise and fell in two stinking pieces to the ground. Marcus looked up from the carnage of battle around him, it seemed that a squad of chaos obliterators had materialized from nowhere, taking his squad asunder. Muttering under his breath Marcus took the next obliterator in the squad and ripped an arm from its massively mutated frame. The thing grunted in pain as its arm was ripped from the socket. The thing turned to face Marcus but as it did so a chainsword was run through its abdomen by battle brother Clamentes. The veteran that was a specialist in close combat, as he proved now fending off two obliterators even as he stabbed the third.

Marcus continued to stride forward with the confidence born from the countless years of his service. He was completely at ease in any combat situation as were the brothers under his command. While in combat they moved with the fluidity of trained dancers not the two-ton behemoths they were while in full armor.

 

Then the one thing that the marines had been sent here to destroy made itself known. It appeared up at the next crossroad, its many legs destroying the buildings in which it had taken to hiding in. The defiler jumped into the combat with the marines and the obliterators with such chaotic zeal that it speared an obliterator through one of its mighty clawed limbs. Tossing the corpse into the air with the greatest of ease it swept forward and impaled one of Marcus’s last remaining marines sending him two blocks away with the next movement of the limb.

 

Then a sound from behind the captain forced him to turn. Striding from the other end of the large hab block was a chaos dreadnought in all of its horrid magnificents, power claw already swinging for brother Clamentes’s body. The chaos machines had them in a pincher that Marcus’s men were not ready to defend against, his men had no anti-vehicle weaponry to fight them off and they were so badly undermanned that there was going to be no way to win. “Brothers if this is to be out last stand then you will fight and die in the name of the emperor, stand too and fight!” With this final declaration shouted to the heavens and his remaining marines Marcus drove into the fight once more.

[bloodred0114]

please I need some coments on this... could you be so kind as to leave some for me to work with... please...

[The Normish]

Very good. A few grammar and spelling issues, but nothing too serious.

Was the entire group sent to kill a defiler? That seems a bit of a waste, considering how many of them have died.

 

Looking forward to more.

[bloodred0114]

that was one of the mission objectives... should probobly clear that up... but it was a major part... also not quite the same company structure... comando tactics so smaller companys...

[asfargone]

i see you're kind of stalling at the climax here

high strung things like epic battles tend to work like heavy metal, it can get repetitive. but the real problem is the translation from the medium to the mind, we have a really hard time envisioning incredible stuff in our heads, and when we do it we're on an adrenalin rush, so we're in a different state of mind as it is. as such you have to slow down the actions taking place and lose focus on the surroundings, like you would during an adrenaline rush. this genre really needs to be supplemented by its own fighting and protocol, alike to saying kickflip in skateboarding.

anyways, to get that kind of rush from a book the feeling has to be expressed with the action. it must become more artful rather than processive. sounds like im about to fart apples i swear. but i encountered this problem myself writing my book, hence no examples. i guess, best put, you require a pull and release, create a feeling, like hate or ecstasy of battle and then follow through with actions that match the nature of the feeling.

'''here a tainted soul did run towards me, screaming his weak will to the stars. his sword was sharp and his bolter was profound, but i know his soul was not sound, for in my canter i needed not turn or falter. i simply raised my fist and shoved his forehead into his spine. the little shard of a man had neither the reason nor the chance. such it was as i moved on, my brothers and i passing judgement again and again.'''

tactically i would board machines, take advantage of their inarticulations. and really thats a mad dash. but by slicng the legs of this spider thing it can destroy the tank, but doing so runs the risk of the tank's weapons. it would be really cool though if one managed to throw a grenade into the tank cannon.

or if you're going the tragic route the victor jumps at the tank, lining up the tank's cannon with the spider thing.

oh by the way, my opinion is that bald people only look more 'manly' based on a specific face type, and why would having hair mean you need shampoo? you just get it wet now and then, keep the crap out of it, and its ok. (no offense)

besides that i think there needs be a different super armor available. in-game (DoW2)) terminator armor is like the square root of infantry plus tanks.

[bloodred0114]

thank you for the comment... I can't believe it but... I UNDERSTAND!! :) this is very helpfull and most appreciated... also the comments on my sig. I just thought it was funny ;)