I walked with Gods.

[Monstra Sumus]

The war had been going well.

 

Thats what the Imperial propaganda had been preaching, in reality, it was far less simple than that. Diomedes, a back water planet rimming a dying sun, where the human population hadn't progressed past the bronze age in technology. It hadn't been of much interest to the Imperial outpost upon the orbiting space station which over saw the systems mineral harvesting plants. Until that is, the forces of Chaos began to rear their ugly head.

 

The orbiting station followed the machinations of the Occult, watching it sweep through the native tribes of Diomedes. Fully half of the planets tribal population had fallen to the sway of the Dark Powers and the rearing storm of fury and zealotry was threatening to spread to the giant mineral harvester in the northern hemisphere of the planet. The priests of darkness, the zealots of pale flame and horned skull had arisen in the midst of the swarming tribesmen. Bearers of the Word had unleashed the hornets nest in an attempt to disrupt the flow of Imperial resource.

 

There was only two branches of the Imperial army in the surrounding systems. A severly depleted Imperial Guard regiment and a more, specialised brand of the Emperors warriors. Both responded with haste and brought to bear a resistence against the Eight pointed star. Time would be telling the rest of the story and as to wether the strong arm of the Emperor would prevail.

 

 

~

 

 

"Bastard Imperial dogs, they are almost as foul as those barbarians from the east."

 

Antilles leaned heavily on his spear, his crimson cloak drapped across his form as a buffer against the harsh winter that ravaged the lands. His nose wrinkled in his bearded face from the smell of burning stew and piss. The camp was nestled in the crest of a mountain pass, waiting for the barbarian horde to reform and storm once more.

 

"Hush Antilles, such words will bring them down upon the camp like hawks."

 

Came the words from the wise lips of Bulo, who tended the steaming pot of broth upon the fire. Thousands of men were cramped into the opening of the pass, auxilaries to the Imperial forces, the men who carried fire lances and hulking machines of war. An band of the tribes left loyal to the call of the Great Emperor, beloved of all Gods.

 

"I will not hush, they send our men to die upon the swords of filth and blasphemy. They promise a hammer blow that shall shatter the growing horde. Where is this promise? I have seen nothing of the Emperors favoured sons. The Imperials ensure us they shall arive, these, titans of war. Pah, I say."

 

Bulo turned away from his antagonistic companion and gazed through the camp to the rearing walls of the mountain pass. The Gate of the Gods, as his people called it. He did not relish the coming battle beneath the towering peaks on the morrow, he longed to be home in the warm embrace of his wife.

 

 

~

 

 

"Come on your pig loving whoresons! Move it! General Landershire wants your filthy arses on the front behind the gun line! You'll be greeting your brothers once the Guard have stopped firing. Now move!"

 

Came the belligerent tone from Optio Mofran. The bull of a man was garbed in the black drab uniform of the Emperors sky faring warriors, a peaked cap threw his craggy brow into shadow. A fearsome weapon of fire was gripped between his hands and at his hip, hung a sword of rending teeth. He'd seen these weapons being used upon the enemy and he feared what damage they had done, Bulo had feared the coming of the Emperors Guard.

 

Antilles grumbled but hefted his shield and spear, bearing them close to his leather clad torso. Bulo gripped the folds of his cloak and threw it over one shoulder, making sure his shield was firmly strapped to his forearm he set out with the rest of Diomites and to the smoke of war.

 

 

~

 

 

Screams, cordite and savagery filled the air, the whine of lasguns, the clash of swords and the howling of men gone mad. Bulo spat blood and teeth, bringing his shield up to parry the wild axe blow. It sent a shock up his arm and in response he thrust his sword forward into the gut of the barbarian. The man gurgled as blood choked his throat and he collapsed in a pile of furs and blood. Another skull painted warrior sprinted towards the Diomite line, the smoke and fog of war obscured the raging melee around Bulo and the rest of the combatants.

 

He sprung to his feet, bearing his shield to the fore as the howling warrior hefted his axe. A beam of light cut the smoke and ploughed into the warrior, pitching him from the ground. His chest a ruined and bubbling crater of flesh and fused gore. He burbled something before choking on his own death. Bulo lifted his hand and wiped his brow beneath his plumed helm, riding his eyes of the sweat.

 

A silence descended upon the field for a moment before an almighty explosion wracked the Imperial lines. Some weapon of ungodly proportions had been unleashed by the enemy and a blue flash lit up the battlefield. Bulo could see the horde of the enemy shilouetted in the smoke and he was afraid. It vast outnumbered the brave defenders by thousands. They could not win this.

 

Men were running, some cut down by return fire, huge streaks of flame punched into the line of Diomites, immolating the warrior people of Diomedes. Flesh sloughed from bone as the foul red fire spewed from the horde, leering daemonic faces and horned skulls borne like spectres through the smoke. Another explosion that shook the mountains and the Imperial line had broken, scattering in a full route back through the pass. The howling barbarians came on like water through a hole in a ship.

 

Bulo cut down the first as he tried to retreat back through the fog filled pass. The second he was forced to face in combat until he prevailed and the third took him by suprise. The spear peirced his side, shearing against his hip bone and dropping him to his knees. His cry of pain had barely left his lips before another wild man joined the fight. He stayed upon his knee's and barried the blows raining down upon him until an axe collided with his helmed head.

 

Pain burst in his head and his vision blackened. He felt the ground rush up to crash into his face. He knew he was going to die, that he'd never again feel the kiss of his wifes lips, never again would be able to tell his son how to be a man. Never again would be able to return home and be the man he wanted to be. No, it was going to be snatched away by a barbarian from the east, a cultureless mongrel who had embraced a darkness meant not for mankind.

 

His helm was ripped from his head and he was pulled to his knees by his hair. He could feel the hot disgusting breath of the enemy upon his face and he opened his eyes. Stood above him like some monster from a nightmare was one of the barbarian horde. His chest and shoulders spasmed as he sucked breath in from the horned skull he wore upon his head, a mane of beast fur splayed down his shoulders and back, his dark skin was daubed in white clay paint and blood. A loincloth of scrap leather hung from his powerful hips and a hanging array of skull and scalp trophies jostled upon his thighs. The warrior lifted his double headed axe and pointed it at Bulo, a jackal laughter cackling from his bone helm.

 

There was a thunderclap and time slowed. The barbarian was shorn apart, like a touch from the Great Emperor. His chest twisted and popped like ripened fruit, blood and gristle sprayed out to splatter Bulos armour. A trail of smoke ghosted in the air as the minature explosion subsided, letting the sack of ruined man slop to the ground. More thunderclaps peirced the air, sonicbooms that battered his hearing. One by one the enemies of the Diomites were rent and killed by flashes of explosive death.

 

Bulo fell forward onto his hands, feeling the blood soaked mud beneath his fingers shifting as something approached from behind. He raised his head, his unbelieving eyes staring at the approaching giant through the smoke. His breath caught in his lungs and his hands shook as he gazed upon the Titan. The warrior was unlike anything his mind could have imagined. Clad in armour of the royal blue, this man, nay, this god of war bestrode the field of battle. A giant marble U was bossed upon the curved chest armour and in his gigantic hands he held a potent weapon of destruction which he raised to some unseen enemy behind Bulo. A boom of thunder roared from the end of the weapon which slung a bolt of fire through the air, he heard the detonation and the scream which ended another life behind him.

 

Time had not sped up, it was draining until it almost stood still. He could feel the sweat rolling down his brow, he could feel his heart shuddering in his chest as the Giant strode ever closer. Bulo could make out other vast forms marching through the smoke, until ten of the brilliant and terrifying warriors hove into view. Bolts of fire and death flung the barbarian horde back, one of the giants, impossibly bigger than the rest lifted a icon of war and spat a flame brighter than the sun into the distance. The trail of fire like the breath of a dragon.

 

The lead warrior, the one who wore no grim helm, who's eyes did not shine red through the smoke. This one stopped before Bulo, towering metres above him as he clutched at the ground. The giants features were as those a statue might posses. Features carved from stone, ice chip eyes and matted black hair made a face as unreadable as the mountains rearing behind the warriors. The giant bellowed something, his voice deeper than the rumble of a world shift and the warriors garbed in blue stomped forward into the fray, spitting death from their potent weapons.

 

Bulo rose to his knees, staring at this magnificent warrior, this saviour of his people. Clad in armour of ocean blue, forest green rimmed the huge pauldrons upon the warriors shoulders and a white rose was nestled in the U he found there. The warrior looked down at Bulo once more, straight into the Diomites eyes and his soul was laid bare to this god of war. The warrior cast his death spitter aside and clasped the hilt of an enormous blade, Bulo had to shield his eyes from the brilliant white glow of the blade once it had been drawn.

 

His heart soared as the giants features twisted into a smile, he nodded down to the blood stained warrior and Bulo clasped the hilt of his own sword. The giant sucked in a breath to fill his mighty lungs and like a charging bull he rushed forward, a roar upon his lips.

 

" COURAGE AND HONOUR! "

 

Bulo found the words torn from his own throat as he ran, beside this giant of the Emperor and into the retreating barbarians. Years after that battle, Bulo told his childrens children of the time he walked with gods.

 

~

 

Just a short ramble of words that came to me. Dont know if i'll make something of it or not, its was just a tiny idea.

Hope you enjoyed it. :mellow:

[Brother Gathurn]

I like it. A little confusign at the begining, emplying chaos had guns?

[Monstra Sumus]

Yeah, I can see how thats a little confusing. Its meant to be from the Word Bearers themselves which are concealed within the barbarian hordes.