"A World Reborn"

[Tyear]

Xasim Legendus knelt before the grand statue of the Emperor raised up besides the statue or Lorgar, Primarch of the XVII Legion, he could feel the eyes of his gene-father looking down upon him. He had been made Apostle of the 6th coterie seven years before, but the title still felt strange in a way, he had served beneath Kendus Legendus for so many years, he had stood besides the man in a thousand wars. He had unified worlds, raised them up to love the Emperor as every astartes loved the Emperor.

 

Then on the cold ever-dark battleground of Seventy-Two Sixteen his old master had met his fate, a brutal Xenos species the creatures looked in the darkness of the world, perfectly camouflaged, brutal predators and with a strength that seemed to be something akin to an orc warboss they were certainly a match for any Astartes. His master had stood defending the ruins of his command squad, fighting for days it had seemed against the ancient beasts who they soon named, Dark-Stalkers.

 

When Xasim finally reached the embattled site the corpses of the enemy were strewn across the battlefield, the mighty astartes lay torn and broken, his master finally toppled on top of them, his crozius still clenched firmly in his grasp. As Xasim approached his master he found his vox suddenly crackle to life with a voice, that of his old master, for Xasim to take his name and lead the coterie forward.

 

A moment of introspection was interrupted as armored feet stepped behind Xasim, “Apostle”, a voice said, deep dark and brooding, as Xasim rose and turned he stared into the face of Kendus, the man was a Terran born astartes, as powerful as any of them he chose however not to take part of the veneration of the Emperor to the point where the Word Bearers did, his courage was not to be questioned though. Xasim rose from the ground, his hand touched Kendus' shoulder, “Brother”, he spoke softly before turning Kendus around. “Talk”

 

Kendus explained that an emergency call had come from a nearby Imperial colony, twenty standard terran years before the world had been pacified by the sons of Russ, the might of the Space Wolves had beaten the poor souls down. They had trampled and burned over everything this people loved and then left a garrison to clean up the mess, Xasim shook his head slowly. “Barbarians..”, he muttered softly. Kendus' eyes narrowed, “They are still our brothers Apostle, they carry themselves differently then us, but they would defend the Imperium until death”, Xasim smiled, none in the coterie would talk to an Apostle this way, none besides Kendus.

 

He valued the man's insights, he valued his commentary as well, often showing a way around a particular obstacle that Xasim couldn't, it was no wonder that Kendus had been made Coryphaus for the coterie, many had objected, that the honor should have gone to a Colchis born, as it was normal in the Legion since their great father had joined them. Xasim walked onto the bridge of the ship the were on. Imperial Army captains ceased what they were doing and saluted, “Go about your business”, he said softly. Like many Colchis born Xasim had been a student of the religion that ruled over Colchis, he had spoken in sermons and gained enough of a following for Lorgar, then only champion of Colchis to speak to him. To say the least this left Xasim a changed man, when the call came for the warriors of Lorgar to assemble, for them to take to the stars in a might Crusade of justice Xasim had not wasted a second and joined.

 

Xasim thought back to that day, to the day were they were elevated beyond humanity, where they became demi-gods in their own way, though no gods existed, or so the Imperial Truth said. Still Lorgar had seen the Emperor and seen the divinity in him, even though he denied it. “Apostle?”, a young woman stood before him, she had taken over the ship after her father had died, instead of promoting from within the ranks Xasim had appointed her to command it. It had sent rumbles but Xasim thought little of it, the right people should be in command. Not those based on rank.

 

“I have set course of Wulfgar's Cross”, she spoke softly, her blond hair hung braided to her back, “We should be there soon, from what we have picked up the Imperial Army find themselves pushed to the brink, they are facing a dedicated foe that has managed to use many of the Imperial Army's material against them”, she handed the data-slate over, “Thank you Linay, you may return to your station”, he turned towards Kendus.

 

The man's face was a mess of scars, the light grey eyes though peered out from beneath a heavy brow, his eyes scanned the dataslate he had received as well. “Should I prepare the coterie?”, he said. Xasim nodded softly and watched his Coryphaus march off. He spoke with Linay of several small matters of importance before departing himself, he marched to his chambers only to find his Acolyte waiting for him there.

 

The man was clearly Colchis born, his skin pale, yet not sickly, his hair cut short but jet-black. His eyes shone with an inner light, the reason why he had been made Acolyte, “Seran”, he said softly, the man's armor smelled of the oils of anointment, his weapons strapped to the sides, a chainsword, the handle made to fix on his hand, to be locked in place and to only be taken off when the battle subsided, on his left a plasma pistol, a gift that he had received from Xasim for rescuing his Apostle during a rather promising campaign. The weapon seemed to hum slightly more as Xasim approached, obviously the weapon longed for the hand of it's owner.

 

“We are to rescue this world Apostle?”, Seran asked softly, his voice was whisper-thin and yet flowed with adamanite hardness. “The barbarians of Russ destroy and we rebuild?”, Xasim smiled, “We are the Emperor's sons Seran, some of us may seem backwards and ignorant but we will spread the word of the Emperor again onto Wulfgar's Cross, we will show them that they have been wrong to oppose us. We will reason first, only if it needs be I will unleash my coterie. These people have seen enough death as astartes hands already.”

 

Seran nodded softly, “If there is nothing else then I would take my leave”, Xasim's smile returned, “You do not approve?”, a moment of silence, “These people defile Imperial Law with all respect, they should be made to heel, make an example of them destroy them utterly”, Xasim rose his hand, “Then the sons of the slain would rise up and make war again, what you propose is admirable, but ultimately flawed”, Seran bowed, “As always you see reason and speak the truth”, Xasim smiled, “Prepare the coterie Seran, keep them ready”, the Acolyte made the sign of the Aquila, “May the Emperor protect”, “The Emperor Protects Seran”, as Seran marched off his mighty boots thundered. Readying the coterie for war.

[AL.]

like it so far :)

[Ufthak]

Hm, generally, very good, portrays the Word Bearers well :P

The only flaw I can find (aside from the odd spelling/typing mistake here and there) is the style of writing. I find sentences a little long or subdivided in strange ways, and punctuation is missing a bit.

Keep up the good work though ;)

[Tyear]

If you can give me some pointers on where I can improve that'd definitely help Ufthak.

 

It may also be partly due to me not being an Englishman, so, sometimes my writing doesn't quite match up.

[Tyear]

Part 2

 

As the “Talon of Truth”, pulled itself away from the warp the Geller field crackled with the warp energies still playing around it's hull. A myriad of colors coruscating across the view-ports, Xasim's eyes stared out into the darkness of space before settling on the planet nearby. “Wulfgar's Cross”, from here the world looked peaceful and beautiful in a way. There was very little in the way of landmass, a huge single continent, several lights burned brightly in the seas that were shielded by the night now. No doubt hive cities born into the ocean.

 

“Captain Linay, establish contact with Imperial forces”, the woman nodded and went to work, it wasn't long before a voice rang out. It was strained and seemed tired, no doubt as the man on the other side of the vox. “Praise the Emperor you've come, I'm uploading the co-ordinates for the rebel positions, including where we believe their masters are”, Xasim sent a quick scramble through the vox, causing the man to have a lapse in talking. “My lord?”, he asked softly, “My name Governor is Xasim Legendus, I am Apostle to the 6th coterie of the Word Bearers and my men are not yours to command”, he let the suggestion hang in the air, “I would seek to console this world first before plunging it into chaos and death once more”, the Governor spoke out, “These people are filth, the break Imperial law, the destroy everything they touch. They must be made to heel”, Xasim breathed deeply. “I will go down to the surface, we will discuss this matter there”

 

He turned and marched off the bridge, the helmet that hung on the side of his armor was quickly locked into place, a ancient helmet, a gift from an artificer of the Salamanders legion he had saved the man in combat. The helmet was shaped at an angle, almost to make it seem like Xasim was some huge bird of prey, the gleam of the eyes lit up. "Assemble my honour guard", he said into the helmet's vox as he marched towards the embarkation deck. Meeting his honour guard in stride.

 

Their grey armor smelled of oils, oaths of the moment were placed on their armor. Some had inscribed words from the Legio Divinatus on their arm-guards and their weapons. The acolyte Seran stepped out in front of them, “Your honor guard awaits”, he said to him, the man was fully dressed for war, his eyes a dangerous gleam. “Stay behind Seran, see to it that the coterie is ready to deploy at a moment's notice”, clearly he was taken aback, “Apostle?”, he said softly, his whisper voice losing it's hardness. “I need clear heads, not those that want war”, he said over a private vox channel. “Ave Imperator!”, said Seran in clear tones and made the sign once more before marching away.

 

As the ten men strong honor guard marched into the thunderhawk Xasim calmed himself, as always the ride down had his blood up. Normally a full deployment would mean his thunderous voice would ring out across a thousand vox-nets, calling for messages of hate and despair to the enemy. For death and a red day. Today was not so. The ride down was almost nice, there was a small degree of anti-aircraft guns, but they were either quickly silenced or could not track the lone thunderhawk.

 

As they flew over the city Xasim could see the Imperial forces clearly being pushed back, they were putting up a brave front, but there was little doubt, the would fall soon and the enemy would break into the city. No wonder then that the Governor wanted war, as they landed the honor guard marched out, Xasim at their front. A man approached them, a few soldiers stood around, clearly commanders and many were displeased about being here. “Men, return to your positions, your men need you more then I do”, he said to them, releasing the helmet and breathing in the air.

 

His cold green eyes stared down at the Governor, the short-cropped whitish hair rustled in the breeze, the smell of war was in the air. “My lord”, he bowed deeply, the man was old, perhaps in his early fifties, but he carried himself with dignity, it was clear he had been fighting as well. A torn and battered carapace armor protected him from what the enemy threw at him. Xasim's appreciation of the man rose. “Rise”, he said softly, “Your city is under assault, that much is clear, the rebels have also seen our ship, no doubt knowing full well what it means. Astartes are here, I wish to have peace-talks, a momentary lapse in fighting. Can you contact the rebels?”

 

The Governor's brown eyes narrowed, “They.. these men are filth, they are animals, they should be killed put to the sword one and all”, he raged clearly, “They.. they killed my son, strung up his corpse”, his voice seemed to crack, Xasim placed his hand on the man's shoulder, “I still wish to talk”, the man's eyes rose, “I.. I will try”, they exchanged pleasantries, the Governor's name was Kolgan. The last name as he said he left behind when he left his home planet.

 

It was clear to Xasim that the defenders were rejoiced to see the astartes here, the palace that was the key to the Imperial forces here seemed to rise up in joy as the command squad walked through it. It was two hours before Kolgan returned, “I have them on vox”, he said softly, patching it through Xasim's voice rang out. “My name is Xasim Legendus, commander of the Word Bearer's sixth coterie, we wish to have peace talks. This world must fall into compliance again. If possible, without bloodshed.”, silence, then a voice, clearly female, old as well. “Your wolves landed and slaughtered thousands, they butchered this world and left it in ashes. You will do the same, the war continues.. this world will be ours again”, Xasim breathed deep, “If you continue I will be forced to unleash my astartes on you, your world will burn once more. I wish for no more death and only peace”, the woman spat, “Then take your precious Imperium and frak it the hell of my planet”, a series of cheers on the other hand. “You leave my with no choice then.”, and he promptly silenced the vox.

 

“Governor, the plans”, he said softly, before receiving the data-slate, the information was extensive and flowed easily across Xasim's eyes. “Your world will be made compliant”, he said to the governor before touching his shoulder, “rest assured”.

 

On the ship the vox crackled to life, “My Coryphaus”, “Yes sir?”, Xasim smiled, “Unleash the Astartes” As the plans were set in motion Xasim walked through the rubble filled streets of the capital, everywhere cheers went up as the Astartes showed themselves. “Warriors of the Emperor, men of the Imperial Army, I rally you now, my men are on their way. Your world will be rescued from the fires of rebellion and hatred. For the Emperor!”, he barked out across his vox speakers. Many rose up, the army revitalized as Xasim spoke of the Imperium, of their solemn duty to protect it. As the Army started to push the first drop pods fired down into the rebel head-quarters, totally unaware of the war about to be unleashed on them.

[Ufthak]

Hey Tyear!

 

I'm not English/American either :devil: Where are you from?

 

In any case, an example:

"His eyes shone with an inner light, the reason why he had been made Acolyte, “Seran”, he said softly, the man's armor smelled of the oils of anointment, his weapons strapped to the sides, a chainsword, the handle made to fix on his hand, to be locked in place and to only be taken off when the battle subsided, on his left a plasma pistol, a gift that he had received from Xasim for rescuing his Apostle during a rather promising campaign."

 

It's a bit long for a single sentence, and from the content could quite easily be broken down to a few seperate, more simple sentences. Possibly something like this:

 

"His eyes shone with an inner light - the very reason why he had been made Acolyte. “Seran” he said softly. The man's armor smelled of the oils of anointment; his weapons were strapped to the sides: a chainsword, the handle made to fix on his hand, to be locked in place and to only be taken off when the battle subsided; on his left, a plasma pistol, a gift that he had received from Xasim for rescuing his Apostle during a rather promising campaign."

 

But since you are no native speaker, I can hardly be telling you off ;) It's good!

[Tyear]

Ah Holland actually.

 

And I see what you mean, it does flow a lot better. I'll try to keep it in mind.

[Tyear]

Part 3

 

Aboard of the “Talon of Truth”, first acolyte Seran's chest swelled up with pride, he would lead the coterie down into war, normally this was the domain of the Apostle, he touched the weapon at his side. Almost feeling the lust for war that echoed from the chainsword, wrapping the ancient hand-guard around his fist he felt it slide into place. Locking it from being struck from his hands. The plasma pistol at his side gave a faint hum as he marched to the embarkation deck.

 

Already squads were filing into drop pods, the activity was almost astounding to look at. So many men and materials, several Astartes raised weapons at Seran as they passed him, some bowed before him and received his blessing. At the deck stood the Coryphaus, the war-leader of the host, Kendus, a Terran born astartes, his combat record excellent, a unique mind amongst the Word Bearers. He marched up to his brother, “Coryphaus”, he said softly, the man turned towards Seran. “First Acolyte?”, he said, the words still felt strange in his mouth. While he had respect for Xasim, he had very little for Seran. Often he would charge into impossible odds, forcing Kendus to redirect important assaults to rescue him. “How goes the preprations?”, “They go well, most of the men are ready to deploy. I have a boon to ask you”, an amused look placed across Seran's pale face, “What is it?”, “Deploy with the Anointed”, he said solidly, his eyes staring into Seran's.

 

Feeling slighted once more Seran's teeth clenched, “Why?”, his voice, normally silky smooth had an almost angry hardness to it. Kendus' eyes lit up, “I need your voice, your inspiration there, they will deploy inside of the command bunker. That and they could definitely use your help First Acolyte”, a chance to earn glory Seran's temper seemed to swell down. “Lead me on Kendus”, he nodded at him and marched off. The first acolyte behind him.

 

As they reached the hallowed chambers of the anointed it would seem that many of the brothers had already dressed themselves in their tactical dreadnought armor. Only one remained, a beautiful armor, on it's shoulder guard was the book of Lorgar, the flame of truth in an opened book. It was a terrible machine to witness in war. But cast in the dim light above, it seemed far from a weapon of war, more like a piece of art.

 

Slowly the First Acolyte undid his armor, the twin weapons were left, carefully placed in the hands of one of the anointed, stashing the weapons the First Acolyte dressed himself. Seran's under skin implant locking in place with the armor, he raised his arm and saw the crackle of energy form the talon like fingers. He marched over to a nearby table, lifting the ancient combi-bolter from the table. “Glory to Lorgar brother!”, said Kendus, smashing his fist against his breastplate, “Glory to the Emperor!”, barked back Seran as his helmet locked in place.

 

As Kendus stepped onto the embarkation deck he saw the glory of the coterie assembled, many had filled into the drop pods he had chosen for this mission. From the dim light a single figure marched up to him, “Brother”, he said, a rough voice, clearly not Colchis born. “Brother, we march to war again”, he touched his shoulder, “As we should Kendus, bring glory to our Legion”, “You know it Pendus”, they both laughed as they marched to their respective drop pods. They had been with the legion almost from it's formation, they had marched with the Emperor himself.

 

“Initiate drop pod sequence”, he said, Kendus' helm now firmly slid into place as he felt the thrusters start to hum. Then suddenly a rush of energy as fifty drop pods fired down onto the planet, like tiny meteorites they plunged through fire, air and finally impacted hard onto the ground. Planting itself upright the doors opened, as one Kendus marched out, it was clear they had landed near one of the trenches.

 

Like a true demi-god of war he stepped into the light, his sensors took in a thousand things at once. He heard the bark of several sergeants in his ears, they were going about their business. From a nearby trench a group of soldiers raised their weapons. Kendus' own bolter rose up, the weapon barked at full auto and soon nothing but pieces of men remained. He turned his face towards the capital, he did not like leaving Xasim unguarded.

[Ufthak]

Hmmm...I like it! ;) I must say, I absolutely HATE the Word Bearers, though they do have something interesting and beguiling about them. I think you portray them quite well!

 

The spelling/typing/syntactical mistakes apart, I have one small note of criticism:

 

You say Xasim has a Corvus pattern helmet. Given that the story is set during the Great Crusade (- the Word Bearers still have their grey armour), most would be wearing MkII "Crusade" or MkIII "Iron" armour, with possibly the first few sets of MkIV "Imperial Maximus" being distributed. The MkVI "Corvus" was only introduced while the Heresy was underway, during the last months of fighting, and used almost solely on Terra and perhaps Mars. In that sense, Xasim could, strictly speaking, not be wearing MkVI armour.

Then of course, perhaps he is wearing an early prototype, specially artificered for him :)

[Tyear]

A fatal flaw in my plan then..

 

See this is what you get when you don't do your research well enough before starting to write :wink:

 

And thanks for your comments, I normally write Blood Angel fiction and Word Bearers are definitely something different.

[Ufthak]

:wink: I wouldn't call it a "fatal flaw". As I said, you could mention that the Corvus helmet is a prototype and that Xasim received it as a gift from the Mechanicum for, say, saving a fragment of an STC, some while back or so. The good thing with 40K (or 30K) is that you can really twist and turn everything the way you need it.

Keep up the good work, I want to know whether they're gonna annihilate the rebels or make zealots out of them...

 

:tu:

 

--Ufthak--

[Tyear]

I altered it slightly now, instead of a Corvus helmet it's one that's been created by a Salamander. It seemed customary of Astartes to gift each-other during long campaigns or when they saved one another right?

 

And these men are Word Bearers still loyal to Lorgar, thus still loyal to the Legio Divinatus. Guess what will happen to a world that managed to curse the Emperor.

[Tyear]

Part 4

 

A massive bloom of fire erupted besides Xasim, a battle-cannon fired once more and another round smashed into a makeshift bunker. There was no fear in Xasim's eyes though as he strode forward, “You have failed the Emperor and for this he has sent his angels of death!”, he strode forward, the bolt pistol in his hand barked as he shot through several soldiers at once. The rebels parted like a sea at first, before regaining some semblance of courage and charging them.

 

Xasim felt almost like a grown man fighting children, he had not even unhooked his Crozius Arcanum instead, the weapon had returned to his belt, he would not unleash it on these men who did not deserve to be slain by such a weapon. Instead he wielded a piece of metal, roughly banged into shape of a sword. As what was clearly some sort of captain charged at him, his chainsword whirring her Xasim waited then side-stepped. The blade smashed through the man's torso, cutting him in half. Bloody ichor sprayed across his gray armor.

 

All around him was death and destruction, still he was not confused and in the distance he saw a lumbering tank crawl towards them. It's barrel rose up, “Ventir!”, he barked at the melta-gun wielding Astartes, there was only a click of acknowledgment, a smashing of bodies and as the gun prepared to fire it blew up in a huge red ball of flame. He smiled beneath his helmet as he smacked one of the soldiers away, his corpse tumbling into a nearby group. “For the Emperor, Death Death DEATH!”

 

Meanwhile on another part of the planet there was a faint hum of energy, a crackling sound in the air and suddenly ten men in tactical dreadnought armor stood within a command bunker. Seran looked around himself as he flanked out his men, he took point, more then confident that the armor would defend him. As they strode through the corridors up ahead a massive bark of shells started up, it was clear that the enemy held an autocannon there. Seran laughed, the vox casters on the helmet only increasing the terrible voice as his combi-bolter shot fiery death. Each man was splattered across the wall, bodies strewn out.

 

“Find me the commander Anointed!”, he yelled out and watched each Anointed walk off, soon the entire facility was filled with the sounds of the dead and dying. For every enemy Seran slaughtered he saw ten more replace him, he laughed as he butchered, for this was far from war, this was a simple slaughter. As he marched into a dead-end corridor a single soldier stared at him, she looked so fragile. Almost like a doll, the fighting had raged for a good two hours and it was clear she had somehow survived. “Do you accept the Emperor's mercy?”, she stared at him and gritted her teeth. As the autogun rose and fired Seran laughed, the bullets pinged off his mighty armor. “I guess not.. I will enjoy tearing you limb from limb”, she cried as the weapon ran out of shells and still cried as she charged him.

 

Capturing her in his right hand he held her by her neck, not yet snapping it, he smirked as he crackled the talons near the woman's face, he could see the fear there, it was almost inviting in a way. Her feared eyes, the pleading voice. He chuckled as he stuck one of the talons into her arm before ripping it off completely, “Do you want my Emperor's mercy?”, he hissed at her, she simply spat at him. The moment spoiled Seran growled and tore her neck away completely and tossed her as a ragdoll in the corner. Still the feeling had been strange.. yet very rewarding, a sort of sick pleasure.

 

Then he noticed a vox icon blinking, “First Acolyte Seran?”, he heard the voice of the leader of the Anointed, an ancient Terran, the man was named Archibold. “Yes Archibold?”, “We've found the commander, she's alive”, his lips curled into a feral smile. “I'm coming”, his mighty boots smashed across the floor as he felt almost giddy with excitement, his mighty form framed the doorway into the inner sanctum of the command bunker. Two more Anointed flanked Archibold as he kept his weapon trained on the woman's head.

 

She looked frail and defeated, her eyes narrowed though as Seran stepped into the chamber, “You.. your the commander?”, Seran chuckled, “That would be Xasim, my Apostle. I am his Acolyte and the one who will show you the Emperor's light”, he trained his combi-bolter on the woman's face, only to see no fear. “You do not fear me?”, he asked bemused, “I don't fear any of you.. I have a greater power then any of you can hold”, the woman said, her voice swirling and thickening. “Let me show you”, quicker then an Eldar the woman moved, her thin frail hand punched through Seran's armor sliding it all the way in.

 

All at once he felt the corruption in his flesh, he knelt down, his body trembling as he shook allover, “Wha.. What is this?”, he hissed at her, his eyes burning beneath helmet. Frantically he tore it off, the Anointed fired round after round into the woman, seconds later nothing was left of her but pieces of meat. Seran's eyes stared at his companions, Archibold knelt in front of him, “What happened?”, he asked, holding onto Seran's head. Inside the man's guts turned, his body shaking as he felt his superhuman metabolism fight a losing battle against whatever the witch had done. His teeth opened to speak, but all that came out was a strangled cry of rage. Then Seran slumped down, into the arms of his brother. “Contact the Apostle, his First Acolyte is dead”, he voxed to Kendus as he laid down Seran. “Peace be with you brother”, he said, pressing his hand onto Seran's chest. As he rose his hand suddenly got stuck, he looked back only to see the swirling madness in his brother's eyes. “I am not your brother..”, a voice wholly inhuman and ripe with madness said to him. “But soon you will be mine”

 

After that the vox inside of the command bunker was not answered, not by anyone.

 

New part is up.

[Ufthak]

Hee hee...I really like it! A massive terminator brought low so easily... :cuss I love Psykers!

 

I hate to be a spoilsport, but melta weaponry was only very experimental at the time; for tank-hunting the Astartes usually used rocket launchers. But I think it's ok if they use a standard melta - just don't let anyone have a multi-melta, that was introduced a while after the heresy.

 

I like the story with the Salamander gifting the helmet to Xasim :P Good idea! And fitting that an Apostle would wear artificered armour!

 

Oh, and a typing mistake:

"Bloom" instead of "Blood" at the beginning of the text.

 

Keep it up! ;)

[Tyear]

The bigger they are, the harder they fall :P

 

Ah, well no multi-melta's then, but I'm keeping the melta gun in there. It would seem strange for an honour guard Astartes to be hoisting around a missile launcher.

 

Aye, it's something that I thought would fit into the whole great crusade thing.

[Ufthak]

Just as a reminder concerning Pre-Heresy weaponry:

 

If you're VERY strict:

- No Cyclone missile launchers

- No Storm Bolters

- No Assault Cannons

- No Multi-Meltas

plus

- very few Thunder Hammers

- more Plasma weaponry

- marines may equip the conversion beamer (whatever that is)

- marines may equip autocannons, Reaper autocannons, autoguns & lasguns (the latter two for "Recon Squads" - like Scouts, just full-fledged marines in full power armour)

 

Hope that helped :)

[Ufthak]

Hey Tyear!

 

Please update man, I want to know the rest of the story :D

[Tyear]

Haha, yeah I know, so do I :tu:

 

To be honest, I'm working the late-shift at my job, which I loathe, the shift, not the job. And it usually leaves me without a muse, like today.

[Tyear]

Part 5

 

With a heavy heart Kendus took up the vox, his voice rang out in total clarity as he relayed the message to the Apostle. “It appears that Seran has fallen, Apostle, the coterie mourns your loss”, Xasim's teeth ground together as he heard the message, with the command post firmly in their control no voices spoke but theirs. “We.. will recover my Coryphaus, recover our brothers from the Anointed and then push into the enemy's back”, Kendus gave a quick vox of agreement back and moved his special weapons group to the command entrance.

 

Kendus himself leading them he stepped up to the door, it was thick and well armored they would be trying a long while to get through. “Weapons!”, Kendus said as he placed his bolter away and drew an arcane pistol, it's energy coil glowing a reddish white. “Fire!”, as one a rush of plasma and melta weapons fired. The door held though, it's surface glowing red hot, but not seeming to have a dent in it.

 

As one the seven Astartes shooting at the door found their voxes suddenly garbled, screams of rage and impotence, of death and wanting bloodlust. Kendus growled as he switched it off, as did the rest of the group. Only then did he see the door, it was buckling, their weapons had done the trick after all. But as the door pulled inwards Kendus moved his men back, not a moment to soon as the door exploded outwards all of a sudden. A rush of superheated air, then came the strangest sight of all.

 

In the doorway stood a single figure, it's gray armor covered in blood, it stepped through and into the light. The helmet was removed and it was only one man that could be that, “Seran!”, said Kendus in a joyous fashion. “You are not such a pansy as I thought you were”, he laughed as he walked towards his brother. Outstretching his hand, he caught the look in Seran's eye not a second to soon. He ducked as the crackling lighting claw's talons scraped across his chest. “Betrayer!”, he spat at him, the plasma pistol fired and Seran laughed as his armor soaked it up.

 

“You think your weapons can hurt me, you are a fool Kendus, you have always been one. A relic of a bygone era, I have seen the light, I have seen the future. The future is not the Imperial Truth, nor the Lectito Diviniatus, the future is in the warp, powers rest there. Terrible and great”, more weapons fired as Kendus ordered this with a heavy heart, “Gods that will grant boons to the mightiest of warriors and I will carve my Empire out of the Imperium's galaxy.”

 

As he finished his speech a rolling sound of thunder echoed from within the command bunker, he smiled as the fellow Anointed stepped through. All had the dark red armor that Seran wore as well, but if the Anointed had been all that arrived they could have stopped them. “Now let me show you my children”, he said with a dark leering gaze, Kendus' shot was perfect as he fired his plasma bolt between Seran's eyes, before it could hit him the thing fizzled and died. What came from the bunker next defied reason, men and women, torn apart by bolter fire and close combat weapons stumbled out. Corpses one and all they made an eight pointed star, slowly shambling into position, heads lolling in obviously broken fashion, some dragging half-dismembered legs or arms with them. It was a terrible sight to see and Kendus felt a moment of icy fear, though they were made to feel none, crawl across his spine.

 

There was a sudden explosion, a shower of blood, Seran's face raised up as it fell, the image of the eight pointed star however remained and from it stepped several xenos, though these were clearly like none Kendus had seen before. A creature massive and terrifying it's skin red as flame, it's head a twisted parody of a goat, massive horns curled backwards. In their palms rested swords that should not have been able to be lifted, the blackness of it seemed to swallow up all light as they strode forward. Kendus' momentary lapse cut away as he fired his plasma pistol, "For the Emperor!", the chorus was taken up by nearly all brothers as most, if not all of the coterie unloaded into the nearly arrived creatures of the warp.

 

---

 

Not my best work but still.

[Ufthak]

Hey Tyear!

 

Hm, generally, good :P I have couple of criticisms though...

 

inconsistency: you state that Seran's armour is grey - as the Word Bearers were Pre-Heresy - but then, later, Seran's and the Anointed's armour is dark red. Is this because it is covered in Blood, or did you make a mistake? In any case, the Word Bearers only repainted their armour red just before the outbreak of the heresy.

 

unclear: "corpses one and all they made an eight-pointed star" - what exactly does that mean? Are the corpses suspended in the air, forming the Chaos star? Or are they standing in a specific pattern, forming the star? It's a little vague.

 

Daemons: remember that during the Great Crusade the Imperial Truth had replaced religion, and thus no one believed in magic, in sorcery, in daemons, in gods, in anything you couldn't see with the eye. Since the story is from the (still loyal) Word Bearer's point of view, calling the creatures of the warp "daemons" somehow doesn't fit. I think Kendus would be shocked and mesmerized, but couldn't put a name on the creatures.

So, if I were you, I would make it clear to the reader that they are daemons without actually using the word "daemon" - try to describe it more from Kendus' point of view.

 

Otherwise, it's good! I like the story so far :( Keep it up!

 

--Ufthak--

[Tyear]

Yeah the Anointed and Seran's armor is blood red, sort of caked into the armor. As for the corpses, they indeed shambled into an eight pointed star.

 

And yeah I forgot about the whole, we don't know daemons thing. *Altering now*

[Ufthak]

When will the story continue? I wanna know what happens to Seran and his termies... -_-

[Tyear]

Soon I hope, been having some writers block lately..

[Ufthak]

Happens to everyone mate ^_^ In any case, looking forward to more!

[Ufthak]

Still writer's block? ;)