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a short tale


Forté

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T
he past few weeks of fighting had been a test like nothing like Valdr had experienced before. Cultists of the ruinous powers had filled the air with such a mixture of scents that a younger wolf would have given up and used his helmet. Sickly sweet at one moment and putrid the next. The traitors seemed to be taking some kind of twisted pleasure in smelling so different and the things which they had smeared on their often semi naked bodies would easily turn the stomach of any mortal man.
Luckily, Valdr was no mere mortal man but a Grey Hunter sporting the insignium of the Blooded Hunter. Even so, he was wishing that he had his helm right now. Just to muffle smells.

The Bolter clicked empty as another cultist chest exploded, showering those behind in gore. One of the twisted cultists dropping to the floor behind the tattered form of the ex-PDF trooper and rubbing the entrails all over his body in some kind of ecstasy fuelled frenzy.

Valdr slammed a fresh mag into his holy Bolter before pushing the smoking hot barrel into the face of another semi clothed, cultist. The scorching was received with a squeal of enjoyment, a mere millisecond before its head was pulped with a single round. They were far too close now.
Asbjorn had already switched to his Bolt Pistol and Chainsword in readiment of the coming melee. Morten was firing his Bolter one handed into the crowd of cultists who had given up their lasguns in favour of crude hand weapons. Blades, clubs, chains and anything that could tear and rend flesh could be seen in their hands but they were just as happy using their hands. Even if ineffective against the Astartes mighty power armour.

The ruin of a wall had served well to slow the cultists so as not to be overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers alone but now it was the Wolves turn...

Charging out from the ruins after the volley of grenades had made a clearing, the pack slammed into the crowd. Morten dealing the first blows with his axe, cleaving the first cultist he came to from shoulder to mid and unleashing a few rounds from his bolt pistol into a few more. The rest of the reduced pack followed suit. Outnumbered by at least ten to one, this was still good odds.

Valdr had no use for weapons now, with the Wulfen threatening to take over. Punching the head off the first unfortunate cultist in reach, crushing the windpipe of the next with his forearm and slamming his forehead into a third, caving his skull in. Worst thing was the cultists appeared to like it. The cultists closed in. Asbjorn finding his sword arm caught with a hooked chain but he quickly despatched the body on the other end with a burst, taking down the two others following up behind him.

The carnage continued for another ten minutes at most. Asbjorn and Morten turning to find Valdr crouched over the last cultist’s dead body having just torn its larynx out with his fangs.
“You need to keep that wolf of yours in check” said Morten. His axe dripping with gore.

Kjetil, Nils, Tormod and Arnborg came walking up the street from where they had attacked the rear of the crowd. “This is getting to be hard work. They just don’t care about their own lives. Throwing themselves at us like they do.” Tormod was the youngest of the pack and still had lots of combat to experience, even after his years as a Blood Claw.

“It’s time to move” said Kjetil. “We need to get into position”.



-Edit-
Slight little re-write after reeding back again. Really should proof read before posting :mellow:
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i like it whelp, but i'm not that sure about the wulfen. one doesn't simply turn wulfen that easy. remember turning wulfen is one of the things a space wolf fears. if you have a chance to read wolf's honour you should do it, it contains quite some information about the curse of the wulfen
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in short it comes down to the fact that once you've turned wulfen for once it is possible to return in your normal state but you won't be forever. in time, be it months, years or hundreds of years the wulfen will take over, a fate worse then death some might say. one could see if one was wolf bitten(eg turned into a wulfen once) because of the yellow eyes. since our codex doesn't really go in to depth of how the mark of the wulfen gets represented i tend to think of it as a mark a wolf priest applies to one of the warriors who's clearly struggeling with keeping the inner wolf at bay, most likely to warn his fellow warriors of the fact that the marked warrior might turn wulfen soon, note that's just my interpretation atleast since there is no physical sign whatso ever that could indicate a brother is turning wulfen
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