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The Lone Wolf Saga

Wulf Vengis

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Ive been writing this series of incredibly short stories about a space wolfs ongoing saga since 2000. There have been periods where I didnt write anything for a few years at a time, but I always end up putting pen to paper and scribbling out some short nonsense. Most of the stories are stand alone one shots but a few were written with links in mind. A majority were never titled and many were written with no chronological order in the story line. Some where never finished and a few were never begun. Ive lost a number of them and rewritten a few to make up for past mistakes. The stories were originally written with the protagonist already as a Lone Wolf. I never wrote him a backstory beyond his initial induction into the lone wolves, for a purpose thats become lost to the annals of forgotten history. Even reading over the older stories and searching through all the hints I cant discern where I was going with the backstory.


So without further hesitaiton (until hesitation is due) I present the first in a select few stories of the Lone Wolf Saga.




He heard the howl in the darkness and he ran. He ran faster and harder than he had ever run in his miserable life. The beast was on the hunt and it had chased him into the darkness. He could hear its claws scraping the ground and its effortless breathing as it came on its tireless pursuit. Its rank breathe choked him and made his nose run and throat burn. His lungs burned and his legs ached with exhaustion. It wouldn't be long now before his mortal frame met its limits and the eternal beast would devour him.


Then it happened, he could no longer draw breath into his lungs, his legs gave out and he fell, rolling and tumbling across the ground. He looked up shakily, his vision fuzzy from the fall and watched as the beast leapt; claws and fangs lashing out to rend and devour him.


There was sudden pain, great and terrible pain that cut into his chest and abdomen. He could feel the flesh, muscle and bone being cut and pulled away. And there was pain. He could hear the ripping of the tissue and the crack-pop of his rib cage being separated. And there was pain. He opened his eyes and was instantly blinded by a series bright lights hung above him and he could smell blood and antiseptics. Still there was pain. He could feel his organs and the hands manipulating them and he could hear voices speaking in hushed tones. And still there was pain. Such incredible pain that coursed through his torso and bled into his arms and legs; threatening to drive him mad. His eyes focused and he looked upon the beast but was shocked to find men. Men with knives and needles and other terrible equipment in place of their fingers or in some case their entire arms. One plunged a long needle into his chest and there was more pain. He tried to scream but no sound came out.


"He is awake Lord" came one voice from above him to his right.


"Restrain him. We cannot afford any mishaps at this stage." Another voice this time; this one was coming from his left shoulder.


He tried to struggle as he felt the cold tools of the mysterious surgeons cut into him again but there was no strength in his limbs. He tried to remember something, anything that wasn't the beast or pain. Some clue as to how he had arrived here in this bright, bloody and clean room filled with horrible man monsters that had chosen to dissect him alive. But there was only pain. Pain which clouded any attempt at true thought. A figured stepped between him and the lights and was obscured in shadow, it raised something long and metallic and stabbed it into his eye and he screamed. A long terrified howl of a scream, sounding more beast than man. Then his vision faded and he slept.





Blood spattered across his chestplate as another heretic fell to the bite of his chainsword. He paused for a moment to take in his surroundings, and to experiance the vast array of input flowing through his new bodies senses.


All around him bloody hand to hand combat was breaking out as the Imperial forces smashed into the enemy lines. The visibility was rapidly diminishing in the growing clouds of dust and smoke, but his heightened senses more than made up for the poor visibilty. He could hear and smell each enemy around him and he could feel the presence of his packmates around him. He didnt understand how but it was almost as if he could see it all in his minds eye as they beat back the traitor guardsmen. He was faster now, and stronger too. But, most of all he felt invincible.


He side-stepped the guardsmans clumsy attack and backhanded the man with his pistol. The bones in his face shattered and he collapsed in a heap. Wulf stepped over the fallen foe and eviscerated another.


'This is what is to be a true warrior', he thought as the last of the enemy unit fell dead. He raised his chainsword high and howled for all he was worth, and his blood claw brothers joined him before chasing off after their next objective.





The building shook with another explosion wrought from the heavy shelling the Imperial forces were bringing to bare on the traitor emplacements. The violence and proximity of the most recent blast had brought a section of flooring down upon the blood claws and seperated Wulf from his pack mates. His ears rang and the room spun as he staggered to his feet.


"Wulf! What is your status?" Sergeant Blackfangs rough voice came across the vox.


"Im alright," Wulf replied slowly, dusting off his armor. "I will meet you at the objective point."


"And if you dont make it little brother?" Ulf growled.


"Then I shall meet you in Hel brother", Wulf commented with a sly grin.


"Enough, theres no time for this. We must make haste if we are to regroup with the Crimson Wolf. Lets go!" The sergeant ordered his pack. "Wulf, we will meet up with you there. Be careful and Russ guide you."


The vox fell silent and Wulf could hear his packmates moving further into the building, making their way to the rendezvous point. He took their lead and moved off on his own looking for a route that would take him into the bowels beneath the building proper.


Using the full aray of gifts given him by the fleshmakers of the chapter he traversed through hallways, lift shafts and stairwells. His heightened senses always on the alert for signs of enemy soldiers or the trail of his packmates. The chronometer overlaid upon his field of vision told him five minutes had passed since he was seperated from the rest of his pack and from what he could tell he was making good time. Hed already fround his way into the lower levels and the locator markers indicating his pack were still several levels above. Their vital signs showed they were locked in heavy combat with an unknown enemy force but were holding their own.


He continued on, knowing the importance of his mission was greater than the survival of his pack as whole. It wasnt a thought he enjoyed, but it was the seriousness of the situation within which he had found himself. Surprisingly he had met little resistance while on his own and had managed to make it this far firing only three shots. His luck seemed to be holding out and he was only thirty meters from the missing battle leader and his pack.


'This is too easy' he thought to himself as he moved down another hallway.


His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of krak grenade bouncing around the corner and rolling down the hall towards him. The grenade rolled to a stop before him and he instinctively dove out of the way as it detonated. The blast caught him in the air and flipped him throwing him further down the hallway. He heard the sharp crack of ceramite splitting over the deafening explosion and felt the pressure pain of the blast upon his chestplate. He landed hard on his backside and skidded towards the intersection from which the grenade had been tossed. As he skidded past the junction he raised his bolt pistol and planted one round squarely in the face of one traitor guardsman whose head errupted in a fine red mist of gore and bone fragments.


He slammed into the wall and rose to his feet. Quickly checking and noting the damage his armor had taken in the blast. His chestplate had be cracked in a spiderweb pattern, shattering the double-headed eagle embossed across it. His armors interior computer flashed warning runes across his vision telling him his torso armor been compromised but the damage was survivable so long as he didnt enter a vacuum or take another blow like the last to the chest. He grunted and ignored the flashing runes continuing down the hall.


The Crimson Wolfs locator beacon was just beyond the next doorway and Wulf moved like lightning to support his battle leader. From what the readouts showed the wolf guard and grey hunters accompanying the battle leader had been removed from combat. He was almost there but his packmates were still another level above him and he couldnt afford to wait. The battle leaders packs had been pinned down for too long and with each passing second their chances of survival dropped drastically.


Wulf smashed his way through the large wooden door and was awestruck by the size of the chamber within. The room was a massive circular viewing area that was empty save for Wulf and the sounds of battle echoing up from the lower level. Looking down into the area below, his enhanced sight could make out the pack markings on the broken armor of the grey hunters and wolf guard. In one corner a wolf guard and two grey hunters still stood protecting several, more wounded brothers. They were firing into a darkened hallway at unseen attackers.


In the center Buud was locked in single combat with the massive form of a demon prince, trying desperately to keep it from reaching the wounded wolves beyond. The foul beast had the obvious advantage and struck Buud to the ground. He rolled to his knees to rise but the demon stomped down and pinned him hard to the floor. It raised its glowing sword and Wulf leapt from the upper level, falling twenty meters with his chainsword pointing straight for the massive horrors back.


He crashed hard into the monsterous creature sending it reeling, his chainsword tearing deeply into the warp spawn. Howling with rage and pain the demon prince shook Wulf from its back before picking him up in its massive clawed hands. The two saw eye to eye for a moment as Wulf growled and struggled trying futilely to break free. Roaring the prince of chaos threw Wulf boddily across the room where he smashed through a pillar and partially through the wall beyond leaving him imbedded there.


The world grew fuzzy as the mighty demon closed for the kill. Wulf fought to remain concious and tried to pull himself free from the wall, but his body refused to respond. Warning runes flashed across his vision as the beast stopped before him. It raised its massive claws to deliver the killing blow, and bellowed out another roar. As Wulfs vision began to fade he saw the head of the demon fall from its shoulders and heard Buud howl with triumph. He gave up the fight and sank into darkness with Ulfs voice echoing through his conciousness.


"And if you dont make it little brother?"

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  • 2 weeks later...



'Darkness. Cold. Dead. Darkness. There's nothing here.'


"Is he dead?"

'A voice?'

"No, hes a tough bastard isn't he."

'Another? But how, this place is empty there's nobody here.'

"Will he survive?"

'The first voice again.'

"Aye lad, he'll pull through this."

'And now the second.'

"Damn. Looks like I owe you a drink Sturm."

'A third? Sturm? Who...'

"I'm going to hold you to that Lykos."

'Lykos? I should know these names, but I dont know why. Where am I? What happened?'

"If he's not going to die, than you should wake him up already. We've got a hunt to complete and I would like the personal glory of taking the oathbreakers head."

'That was...'

"We're not going anywhere. Our orders were to stay with the wounded until the Hunter and his guard arrive. Or have you forgotten your place pup? Besides, your brother is on the verge of the Red Sleep and only the Hunter can help him now."

'My brother?'

"My brother is a fool. We could still-"

"This fool just almost died completing our objective for us. I would say we've won our glory on this hunt. The greedy wolf chokes on the bones of his prey, Ulf. Don't forget that, never forget that."

"Aye Sergeant."

'Ulf! My brother!'

"Take up posi..."


'Silence. Cold. Dead. Silnce. It echoes the darkness. What is happeneing to me?'

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His eyes opened and he saw the skull of a wolf above him. Its eyes glowing red-hot like two miniature suns against the void. His reflexes were astounding considering his injuries and the dagger at his belt flashed like lightning at this new foe. The mono-molecular blade siding easily into the skull of the beast above him. The beast reared back and Wulfs vision cleared. He saw Blackfang reach out to the Wolf Priest who threw his damaged helmet to the floor. A trickle of blood ran down the left side of his face where the blade had bit into his scalp. A look of surprise ran across that face for the briefest of moments.


"Damn whelp! I just saved your life and you try to kill me!" The Wolf Priest exclaimed wiping the blood from his face.


Wulf sat upright his chest aching and spine feeling more like jelly than bone.


"The Crimson Wolf?" He asked shakily, trying to stand but finding it more difficult than expected.


Sergeant Blackfang took Wulfs arm and helped him to steady himself. "He lives and fights in Russ' name. Even now he is leading the final assault against the traitors forces."


"The only reason we're not part of that honor is because the Crimson Wolf ordered us to stay here and wait for you to die." Mykal proclaimed.


"Or for us to die of old age waiting for you to wake up." Lykos laughed at his own joke. No one laughed with him.


"Can you stand on your own lad?"


"Aye Sergeant, I can fight too. Would it be too much to ask that moved on and joined in the rest of the hunt?"


"No, pup. Your pack will be accompanying me back to the den, where we can assess the situation and get the wounded ready for transport back to the Munin. This war is all but over and our services are required elsewhere." Wolf Priest Torm gave a grim smile. "Our great hunt is not yet over and the Wolf Lord is recalling all but the most crucial of his forces. Sergeant, have your lads ready to move in five minutes."


Wulf looked around the room locating his weapons and retrieving them. He noted two missing pack brothers; Oren and Kellum had fallen along the way somewhere. On the other side of the room the Wolf Priests personal guard; Torms Defenders were standing guard at the entrance while the priest collected the progenoid glands from the fallen forms of several Grey Hunters and Wolf Guard. The task completed the priest reclaimed his helmet and approached the Claws and gave a nod signalling his readiness to move out before rejoining his own pack.


The two packs made their way back up through the reinforced building, stopping long enough to collect the geneseed from the two fallen Claws before moving again. The journey back was longer than Wulf had expected. He was sure it hadnt taken this long to reach the viewing chamber. But he was moving at combat speed then, a far fetch from the tedious pace they had taken now. Considering two of his packmates were assisting wounded Grey Hunters and another two were carrying the wounded form of a Wolf Guard in his massive terminator plate.


Sergeant Vegat was perhaps the most noticeably wounded of them all. As he marched he left a trail of deep crimson along the floor and his left arm and leg were completely useless. According the Wolf Priest Vegat should have entered the red sleep long ago, however his shear determination had seen him defend the entrance way until the Crimson Wolf had appeared by his side and flung himself headlong down the tunnel at their implacable foes. Even then he followed suit and fought like a raging konungur. When the Hunter finally arrived the Battle Leader orderd Vegat to stay with him and have his wounds tended, but he had refused any help from the priest or anyone else for that matter.


"I will not be carried like some weakling!" He had roared in protest, his power fist crackling to life as if to prove his point.


They were approaching a large hole blasted out of the wall on the main floor. The entrance made by the Crimson Wolf and his guard during the initial assault. Beyond this makeshift entrance/exit Wulf could hear the ominous growl of a Rhino APC and could already smell the acrid fumes of its exhaust.


Vegat, his wolf guard and the two wounded grey hunters were loaded into the waiting Rhino. The Hunting Priest and his four remaining bodyguard climbed in as well and the tank sped off as the door sealed itself.


+Your transport back to the den is en route Sergeant.+ The priest voxed.


+Aye priest. We shall see you at the den.+ Came Blackfangs reply.


"Lads, secure this area and take up defensive positions. We'll hold this location until our evac arrives." The sergeant ordered his young warriors, and they followed perfectly.


The Blood Claws took up defensive positions around the proximity of the makeshift entrance and waited for their transport. The sun was rising and the sounds of battle could still be heard in the distance, though it was a dying sound. Losing strength with each passing moment, until finally another Rhino APC pulled up and its doors dropped open. Blackfang ordered his Claw into the tank and the novice marines settled themselves in for the long ride back to the den.





++ Uplink Received ++

++ Bgin File Transfer ++

++ From: Inquisitor Malak ++

++ To: =I= ++

++ Imperial Date: =I=997M40 ++

++ Though For The Day: A shallow mind is quickly filled with faith.

++ Regarding the events that took place on =I= and the Astartes in question ++


I have witnessed the full destructive force of the God-Emperors (blessed be His name) Angels of Death in combat on many occasions. But the deadly efficiency of this particular company of the Space Wolves has truly humbled me. Their support of the PDF on the surface of =I= was unexpected as they arrived with no warning or acknowledgement to having received the distress signal. Yet within a Terran day they had eliminated the traitor leader and all trace of his betrayal from the face of =I=. My own arrival was merely hours after they had already departed and I was unable to witness their exploits firsthand. Although through my teams interactions with the PDF I have heard several discouraging reports which I felt worthy of further review. The first discrepancy I found with our current knowledge of the chapter is their supposed mistrust of technologies such teleportation. According to the PDF stationed within the capital city of =I= Prime the first evidence of support came when the skies were streaked with the flaming contrails of drop pods. Furthermore before the drop pods could touch down Astartes in massive armor carrying heavy weaponry appeared in flashes of light across the battlefield. As the drop pods landed the terminator equipped Astartes opened a barrage of covering fire from long range Cyclone Missile Launchers and shorter ranged assault cannons. As the fire rained down upon the enemy emplacements the transports were able to disgourge their passengers into strategically viable locations. This leads me to my next concern; the forces of the as yet unidentified Space Wolves company proceeded to eliminate every traitor soldier and commander and destroy all evidence of the heresy that may have lead to their betrayal. They have left no clues as to the identity of the betrayers benefactors or supporters. All that is for certain is that there is no longer any trace of chaos taint on the surface of =I=. Even with their forces spread across two battlezones this company was able to not only remove the head of the traitorous army but simultaneously destroy its body. This has unfortunately effectively stopped my investigation indefinately. I have sought clues as to the identity of these Space Wolves but according to the PDF commanders the Wolves never made camp nor did they approach their allied forces. They simply appeared, worught the holy justice of the Emperor (in His light do we find guidance) and were then gone leaving only the ruined frame of a city in their wake. As my investigation has been ceased by these Astartes it is only fitting I seek them out. The information they must now hold could be crucial to my investigation, and without it I cannot find the =I=. My duties call me elsewhere in search of these Space Wolves and I must not daly lest their trail go cold primarily as my teams investigation here has already cost us three Terran weeks on =I=.


Always your faithful servant,

Inquisitor Malak


++ File Transfer Complete ++

++ Uplink Severed ++

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...



Pieces of ceramite fell from Wulfs shattered chest plate as the drop ship set down in the hangar of the Munin. Its ramps dropped down and the marines inside climbed out making their way to their respective areas of the ship. Wulf saw another come in and set down across the hangar its marines disembarking as well. He watched the seasoned warriors joking and bragging of their deeds and in some cases reminiscing of fallen brothers. His pack however, like all of the Claws would gather in the lower holds of the armory. Their weapons and armor gifted to them from the Wolf Lords private armory by the Iron Priests and their adepts.


He looked down at his shattered armor and frowned. Enough of the ceramite had fallen away to reveal the inner workings now.


"Dont look so down brother, you brought honor to our pack by rescuing the Crimson Wolf. Im sure our Lord will reward your efforts handsomely." Sturm said resting his hand on Wulfs shoulder and pulling him from his thoughts.


"The Iron Father will not be pleased with this damage." Wulf responded indicating the still crumbling chest plate.


Mykal stepped up beside Wulf and looked at the ruined armor. "Im sure the old battlesmith can fix that, Hel, one of his adepts could do so."


"Besides", Lykos interrupted quickly moving his lithe form ahead of the trio and turning around, marching backwards. "Sturm is right. The Lord will surely reward you for saving his kin. Although looking at that hole in your chest..." He started with a ponderous look. "Sturm, I'll bet you a drink that Wulf is granted his armor tonight. That is of course assuming that it doesnt fall apart and leave him naked before the feast." Lykos gave a snide laugh and Mykal and Sturm joined in with chuckles of their own.


"Like that time you had stolen all the tunics from the Skyfists back at Bjornheim." Osrik said and laughed heartily.


Wulf remembered that night well. Their rival Claws were to be sent to the Gate of Morkai after the feast that night. However Lykos had followed the Skyfists to the ablutions house and had stolen their tunics and weapons while they washed beforehand. The Skyfists never found their tunics or weapons and were forced to arrive at the feast in the nude.


"I seem to remember that the old priest had tracked the deed back to you Lykos. Remind me again what was your punishment for that feat?" Mykal interjected over top of their laughter.


Lykos grin sank slightly as he recalled the rest of the memory. "He made me turn in my tunic and go without for seven days and nights. I had and probably never will be that cold again."


"Thats right! Oh Russ, I had forgotten having to see your frozen 'glory' for a week straight on our final hunt." Osrik laughed again.


"There was nothing 'glorious' about Lykos that week. What a 'small' man you turned out to be." Mykal added.


"Theres nothing wrong with my 'glory'! It was bloody cold that week!" Lykos cried out rising to the bait which brought his packmates to another bout of rauccous laughter as they stepped into the lift that would take them to the armory.


The lift came to a stop and the Blood Claws stepped off. They followed the familiar hallway to the armory where several other Blood Claws were just leaving. Their weapons and armor already returned the pack strode by dressed only in their black one piece tunics. Wulfs pack moved past the six exiting Blood Claws and entered the armory proper where they were greeted by a handful of adepts.


The adepts went straight to work collecting weapons and removing the armor of the Blood Claws. Noting the damage to Wulfs chestplate they removed it carefully in an attempt to preserve it from further damage. Once removed one adept ushered it away beyond a door at the back of the room to be repaired. The pack was given fresh tunics to cover themselves with and exited the armory.


"See Wulf, they didnt even care that youd ruined your armor." Lykos said as they climbed back aboard the lift.


"Perhaps. But Id rather it not have happen-" Wulf started.


"So who wants to drink?" Mykal cut in.


"I could go for that drink now Lykos. Or are you going to welch on your bet again?"


"How dare you accuse me of such a dishonorable thing as that Sturm. You know I would never welch on a bet." Lykos grinned widely showing white fangs.


"Of course you wouldnt Lykos. We all remember what happened the last time you 'forgot' to pay up. Isnt that right Ulf?" Sturm said nodding to the massive shape of Ulf standing in front of them.


Ulf turned to glare down at the almost frail looking Lykos. "I seem to remember the beating I gave you left you unable to participate in the training cages for three days." He growled down at the smaller marine who made an audible gulping sound as he looked up into Ulfs eyes.


"Uh, w-well, y-yes." He stammered back. "But that was only because Ulf cheated, he bragged four kils but only scored three. Wulf killed the the fourth."


"Actually, Ulf killed him. I only cut his head off for good measure." Wulf said slapping Lykos on the back as the doors to the lift slid open. "Now come on Im bloody hungry."


The Claws made their way down another familiar hallway and stopped outside a massive set of double doors. Ulf grasped the handle and swung the doors open, immediately the pack was bathed in the scent of meat, mjod and sweat. They were assaulted by the noisy sound of over one hundred battle brothers talking, yelling, laughing and singing.


"Brothers, brothers! You can all relax now, the Crimson Wolfs rescuer is arrived!" Lykos yelled gesturing to Wulf upon entering the room.


The response was not as expected however and Lykos found himself dodging chunks of hurled food, bones and empty steins.


"Tough room." He said smiling at his packmates as they took their seats at the table dedicated to the Blood Claw packs.




Mjod and meat was brought to them and dove into the meal with wild abandon. Shanks of meat were reduced to bone and discarded on the floor around them. Steins were raised in toast to their fallen packmates and their memories honored. Wulf looked down at the other nind Blood Claws sitting at the table. He noted the six survivors of pack Swiftfang and the three remaining members of Gormyns pack one of which was moving down the table towards his pack.


'Sixteen' he thought to himself. 'Thats all that remains of the fourty-five Blood Claws that started this great hunt.'


He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by a crash as one of Gormyns Claws was thrown to the floor, a sizeable haunch of meat lying next to the fallen Claw. Ulf stood above the young warrior growling.


"This is our meat Kjeld, we earned it. Where was your pack today?" Ulf rumbled menacingly.


Kjelds packmates rushed to his side and helped him back to his feet.


"The Lord held us in reserve. He knew wed steal the glory from your bunch of curs." Kjeld answered.


"Your pathetic pack of cowards couldnt steal glory if it was placed before you on a platter." Ulf mocked the weakened pack.


"Cowards!?" Sten of Kjelds pack exclaimed.


"Thats right." Ulf continued. "Your pack was all but wiped out by those Mal'Ushey eldar a few weeks back, after getting your pack leader killed and fleeing the field. Just. Like. Cowards." Ulfs grin turned viscious as he goaded Kjelds pack further.


"Well see who the cowards is!" Kjeld screamed and rushed the much larger wolf, his two packmates moving with him.


Ulf carefully dodged Kjeld and brought his elbow down into his spine. Sten and Marik moved to flank Ulf and rushed him from the sides. Ulf responding by side stepping Sten and flipping Marik face first onto the table. He grabbed Marik by the tunic and slid him down the table crashing him through meat and mjod alike. Spattering food and drink across the other Claws at the table and tossing Marik into the Swiftfang pack at the other end, knocking three of them to the floor as Marik slid off the opposite end of the table.


Kjeld and Sten were back up and dove at Ulf from behind one grabbing his arms and the other raining blows down on the trapped combatant. Ulf managed to break free of Stens grasp and used him to batter Kjeld aside bfore raising him over his head and tossing him into Marik and the Swiftfangs who were climbing back to their feet.


That was all it took the Swiftfangs and Kjelds pack rushed Ulf as a unified group now. The rest of Blackfang pack rushed to aid Ulf in the growing fight. Sturm squared off against one of the Swiftfangs challenging him to single combat, while Lykos and Mykal used their skills to isolate another member and dispatch him quickly. Osrik and Sigfryd dove in wielding a platter and a large bone respectively. Svengar unleashed a devastating combo on one of the Swiftfangs and the warrior fell to the floor and stayed there. Ulf grabbed Kjeld by the face and hurled into the table on the other side of the brawl. The Grey Hunters reacted as Ulf expected and soon the entire chamber was at war with itself.


"I love a good brawl after a feast!" The massive figure of the Wolf Lord at the head of the room exclaimed before chargin into the fray himself.


Wulf ducked a thrown stein and planted a hard punch in the gut of Marik as he climbed back to his feet again. He was going to do the same to Sten when a presence behind him caught his attention. He quickly ducked Stens attack as Mykal tackled him and powered the other Claw dragging him to the ground. Turning Wulf saw the black armored figure of Torm standing behind him.


"Come with me lad. Youve been summoned."


The Hunting Priest lead Wulf out of the feasting hall and deeper into the ship than he had ever been before. It was darker in this section, and the walls and floors had been modelled to look like roughly hewn stone. He grazed his fingertips across the wall and shocked to discover that this no facsimile it was real fenrisian stone. Pulling back from his surprise he stopped just short of running into the Wolf Priest.


"Where are we?" Wulf inquired looking past the Priest at the large wooden double doors before them.


"We are within the Lords private chambers of the Munin. The Crimson Wolf has summonned you, I believe he wishes to thank you for rescuing him earlier." Torm replied before rapping his armored fist against the door.


"Enter," came the reply from within.


"You will find your own way back pup." Torm said before opening the door and ushering Wulf inside. Once inside Torm closed the door behind Wulf.


The Crimson Wolf stood at the far end of the room his back turned to Wulf as he gazed out of the view port. His red armor still equipped and weapons still mag-locked to his belt and thigh, his helm resting on the table to his left.


"I imagine you know why youre here so Ill skip the pleasantries." The battle leader turned to face Wulf. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance earlier. If you hadnt arrived when you did wed still be on that Emperor forsaken rock and Id be feasting with Russ now." He continued, approaching Wulf. "You fought bravely today and proved your worth to the company. In accordance with my fathers traditions I am now honor bound to reward your noble efforts and honorable deeds." He said placing his hand on Wulfs shoulder. "You brought honor and glory to yourself, your pack and the entire company. In my gratitude I have asked our Lord to grant you a suit of blessed power armor of your own. You will learn how maintain and care for your armor as you would care for yourself. It will be your life if maintained properly, or your death if neglected." The Crimson Wolf removed his hand and placed a dataslate in Wulfs palm. "Take this and give it to the Iron Father, he will see you receive your reward." The battle leader turned and resumed gazing out through the viewport. "What are you waiting for? I believe you have a suit of armor to be fitted for."


Wulf bowed his head in reverance. "Thank you Crimson Wulf. You have honored me with your words. I will do as you command."


Wulf turned and left the chamber, making his way back down the hall and using the same lift the Wolf Priest had to bring him into this chamber.

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The beast is hunting.

The Guardians watched the armor clad grey astartes rush at them. The wall of rubble they had taken cover behind wasn't even a hindrance The red and yellow striped warriors cleared it easily enough or simply smashed through it as if it weren't there, then they were upon them. The guardians were not prepared.


With merciless hatred the wolves unleashed themselves upon the Guardians. Their terrifying howls echoed through the night and their eyes glowed in the shadows like those of mad beasts. The largest of them smashed into the guardians first, bowling over six of the eldar warriors before burying his chainsword in the chest of another. He left it there and unleashed his rage with his bare hands. He ripped their throats and broke their bones. He lashed out at one and had killed another before the first had fallen.


The massive figure was more monster than anything else, his hands, feet and face stained in the eldar blood. The Guardians turned and began to retreat just as the rest of the grey clad marines crashed into their ranks. He leaped on another and using his fangs tore the throat from the female xeno. The other grey clad warriors were swinging their weapons and Guardians were falling at every slash.


The eldar lay in pools at the feet of the wolves. With their enemy slain the wolves loped off silently into the night stalking their next prey.





Five minutes and three seconds.


Wulf knelt before the armor on its stand and finished his prayer. He looked up at the armor eyeing it like an animal about to pounce on its prey. Grinning and bearing his fangs he stood and with great speed began equipping the ceramite and plasteel plates. It took him all of five minutes to have the armor fully locked in place and combat ready. He knew he could shave another minute off that time. It was two hundred and twentieth time doing this since he had returned from the old artificers chambers.


He had wasted no time in learning every aspect of the armors capabilities and functions. He had spent long hours mastering every readout and every option within the computer. He learned he could build his heads up readout to his personal liking. Once that was done he removed the ancient armor and placed it on the stand that had been delivered to his chamber. He looked at were the helmet should be and grinned, he would earn that next and with it his promotion to Grey Hunter. But first he must master the ancient device before him, with its mastery he would live to carve his saga into the annuls of time.


Four minutes and seven seconds.


That was the fastest he could manage to equip the grey plate and this satisfied him. He knew the routines perfectly, how each plate locked down and where the interface connections were made. He knew which sections were could be left behind in an emergency or if damaged. He knew which sections were more likely to fail if damaged and what type of damage had to be sustained to do cause that failure. He had mastered the protection of these areas using the armor donated to him thus far. He felt confident in his knowledge of the computer interfaces and the rituals of application and removal. It was time he learned the proper techniques to maintaining and repairing the ancient relic that felt to him like a second skin.


He removed the armor one last time. This time more slowly, inspecting each piece carefully with reverence and awe as he placed it back on the stand. The chest-plate bore the icon of the running wolf emblazoned in gold across it. He looked at the knee-pads and the pauldrons, still the natural grey of the ceramite. He would have to paint his markings himself and as the first in his pack to get his armor it would be his design they would all eventually wear. He smiled at that thought, it was a great honor to be the one to create the markings that would identify your pack on the field.


The chamber was kept cold, like the rest of the Munin and he hadn't replaced his tunic but was not bothered by the chill. Wulf watched his breath cloud before him as he crossed to wear he had placed the tools given him by the Iron Priest. They were the final step in mastering ones armor. He would now dismantle every mechanical actuator and electronic servo within the ancient armor. This was the most difficult ritual to master and success meant he would be able to maintain every facet of his armor over the centuries to come.


With the tools in hand he returned to the armor stand and laid out a leather blanket placing the tools on it. He stood and gently took the left gauntlet in his hands before kneeling at the blanket and placing it with the tools. He uttered a prayer and began dismantling the gauntlet. The mechanisms within were tiny and the servos fragile. This would be a true test of skill and patience, Wulf grinned at the challenge.

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"Russ' blood!" Ulf's growl boomed through the empty hallway. "Everywhere I turn there're more of you worthless mortals!"


"Our apologies lord, we didn't see you there." The huskaerl quickly replied trying to ease the fury of the massive Blood Claw they had inadvertently run into rounding the corner.


Ulf glared down at the frightened men. "You should watch wear you're going lest someone tear your throats out and show them to your dying eyes."


"Please lord we meant no offense, we recognize our failing and will be sure to correct it." The huskaerls pleaded.


Ulf growled at them one more time. "Be sure to correct it quickly meat, or Ill be sure to feed you to the wolves. Now get out of my way."


The huskaerls quickly moved past the Astarte and continued down the hall, making haste to leave the disgruntled Blood Claw behind. "Worthless meat." Ulf growled after them one last time before continuing down the hall himself.


"Trouble Ulf?" Wulf called out from further down the hall as he made his way to the training cages.


"Nothing a few quick slashes wouldn't solve little brother." Ulf answered spitefully.


"You should treat the huskaerls with less disdain brother; they may save your life someday." Wulf countered.


"The day I need saving by a bunch of mortals playing at soldiers is the day the Imperium falls. I am Astarte, sixth legion, my murder-make is flawless little brother, and don't you forget that."


"I see would you care to put that claim to the test in the cages?" Wulf grinned at the larger Blood Claw.


Ulf grinned back maliciously, "Is it time for me to hand you your arse again already little brother? I hadn't realized."


"I believe its time I handed you yours yes." Wulf replied as they entered the training chambers together and made for the weapons racks.


"Then pick your weapon little one. Let's see just how well you know your blades."


Ulf picked up one of the blunted axes from the rack while Wulf chose a sword. With weapons in hand the two Blood Claws, identical in appearance in every way other than the massive height difference between them made their way into an unused training cage.


"I'm going to enjoy licking your blood from my axe little brother."


The cage door sealed behind them and the two eyed each other up, gauging who would strike first. The buzzer tolled and Ulf leaped across the cage his axe swing from left to right. Wulf blocked with the sword and kicked hard into Ulf's stomach before countering with his sword. The larger marine parried the thrust and swung his weapon in a vicious uppercut, which Wulf sidestepped. Before he could counter however Ulf brought his massive fist around and connected with Wulf's' jaw knocking him back and putting him on the defensive. Wulf blocked the first two swings of Ulf's axe, parried the third and tumbled under the fourth. Rising behind his opponent Wulf lashed out with the sword and tagged Ulf across the back as the larger marine turned to face. Wulf lashed out twice more with the sword, but Ulf blocked both attacks. Keeping with the momentum Wulf swung and thrust the blade at a dizzying pace pushing Ulf back towards the cage wall.


The speed of the attacks left Ulf with no time to counter and just enough time to dodge and block. With Ulf's back to the cage Wulf closed the gap between them. He managed to connect a few solid hits the larger marine. Roaring in anger Ulf lashed out with the axe and knocked Wulf's sword off target, he reached out grabbing the smaller marine by the face and with an animal snarl threw him back across the cage where he crashed hard to his backside. Ulf lunged across the cage as Wulf began climbing to his feet; he lashed out with a powerful kick to his jaw that would have taken the head off normal man. Wulf was knocked back into the cage himself and Ulf swung the axe across and caught Wulf in the temple and slamming his head into the cage. Ulf quickly followed up with an uppercut that rang his head on the cage again and then slammed the haft of the axe into Wulf's gut.


The smaller marine's vision blurred from the axe hit, he briefly saw tiny stars as his skull recoiled off the cage. The other marines' large fist connected with his jaw sending his head into the cage again. All the air was forced from his lungs by the gut shot and his vision blurred but cleared quickly enough for him see the next axe swing, he parried the weapon and caught it under his left arm. Using the cage to propel forward Wulf pushed Ulf back and unleashed a flurry of devastating punches into the massive Blood Claws face and head. Ulf managed to grab Wulfs' tunic and throw him back to the floor. He swung the axe downward but Wulf managed to roll out of the way and the axe echoed across the chamber. The axe swung down twice more and twice more Wulf managed to evade, on the third swing Wulf rolled to his knees. Ulf brought the axe in a sideways slash from the ground directly into Wulfs' side, the force of the blow send Wulf reeling to the other side of the cage.


Wulf felt the crack-pop of ribs and saw stars again as the air was forced from his lungs again. He ignored the pain and climbed to his feet again, but Ulf was already on the attack. The axe lashed out furiously becoming a blur as Ulf swung it repeatedly. The tremendous speed of Ulf's' attacks left no time for error on Wolfs' part and He was forced to block parry and dodge with no chance to counter. On one lucky miss and Wulf was able to tumble around Ulf and put some distance between them again, but it wouldn't matter. Ulf turned like lightning and let the axe soar through the cage it connected with Wulfs sword hand, knocking the blade from his hand. Ulf had thrown himself at his opponent almost as quickly as he had released the axe and Wulf found himself on the receiving end of a merciless set of jabs and hay-makers. He struggled to put up a guard but was being beaten back through the shear force and speed of the unarmed attacks.


He managed to finally counter one massive punch and caught Ulfs arm. He wrapped his arms around the larger marine's wrist and quickly threw his legs around Ulfs torso. He pulled at Ulf's arm with all his strength until he heard the pop signifying a dislocated shoulder. Ulf roared with laughter and grabbed Wulf by the back of the head as he released the wounded arm. He slammed the smaller Astartes face first to the floor, and dropped a heavy knee into Wulf's spine pinning him there. He reached over and grabbed the axe with his good arm. Ulf quickly planted a kick in Wulf's face smashing his nose and sending him rolling across the cage. Ulf approached the stunned the wolf and placed his foot heavily on his head pinning him to the floor.


"I win little brother." The larger marine snarled and swung the blunted axe down across Wulf's left knee. He did this until he heard the satisfying pop of the joint separating.


Wulf cried out in pain and struggled to break free, but it was no use however as the harder he struggled the more pressure Ulf put upon his head and the harder he swung the axe until finally Wulf's knee separated like Ulf's shoulder had and he cried out again. Ulf raised the axe one last time planning to bash in the little marines skull this time.


The buzzer signaled again and the cage door swung open. Ulf sneered down at his wounded teammate.


"Lucky you." He cackled as he tossed the axe away and left the cage. "Someone clean that up will you!" he called out as he made his way out of the chamber.


Wulf climbed to his feet using the cage for support. He wiped the blood from his face and attempted to exit the cage but with a yelp of pain he collapsed in a heap. There were suddenly hands under his arms and he was being lifted up from the floor. He glanced up and saw Sturm and Lykos taking his arms over there shoulders.


"How much did you see?" Wulf slurred through half conscious lips.


"Enough to know that if you keep this up he's going to kill you one day." Sturm replied.


"You really should just let Sturm handle him next time; you're giving us all a bad name, than again better you than me." Lykos laughed.


Sturm shot him a glance of warning. "Not now Lykos."


"What? It's not like I could beat him."


"Just shut up and help me get him to the flesh makers." Strum countered as they dragged Wulf from the training chamber.

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  • 1 year later...

Bloodclaw VIII


The entire great company including its huskaerl detachement had been gathered into the main hall aboard the Munin. The Wolf Lords table sat at the center of the massive circular room. Two rings of tables circling the Lords table contained the remaining Grey Wolves, and beyond them was another six rows of tables. Each one filled to capacity by the Followers of the Wolves, the Fenrisian born men, women and children that made up their support forces. The massive Wolf Lord sat at the center of his table, surrounded by his advisors and his bravest warriors.


Directly behind the Wolf Lords right shoulder stood the Rune Lord Zeth, the Wolf of the Silver Moon and the Keeper of Lore. Zeth was the Wolf Lords older brother by birth, though he was smaller in frame and stature than both of his younger brothers and his flesh carried the sickly palor of those touched by Lakkan. He had the typical facial mutations of all the Sons of Russ, giving his face an almost feral snout-like appearance, although the flesh of his face appeared sunken and drawn.


At the Wolf Lords left shoulder stood Torm, the Master of the Hunt and Claw Father. His powerful black armored frame hidden within the shadows of his grey-black wolf pelt. His wolf skull helm and its glowing red embers of eyes all that could be made of the large Wolf Priest. The priests breath would cloud out from between the fangs of the helm giving his eyes an even more ominous ghostly glow.


To the Lords left sat the Iron Father Gorm, Master of the forge and Keeper of the Fallen. His beautifully etched runic armor with its red gear-toothed trim hiding the mass of machinery beneath. Like all followers of the Omnissiah he had undergone extensive cybernetic augmentations whilst studying on Mars and was now more machine than man.


Sitting at the Wolf Lords right hand was the youngest and tallest of the siblings, the Crimson Wolf, Buud the Demon of Fenris. Buud was the tallest wolf in the entire great company and the only member taller than the Wolf Lord. Even sitting he was a whole head taller than the Wolf Lord, his cropped black hair marred by terrible scars. His dark red armor was in complete contrast to the rest of the companies grey coloring, his matching helm sat on the table before him, its blue lenses twinkling in the half-lit room.


Spread down both sides of the table sat the remaining twenty Wolf Guard, each a great warrior with long sagas woven into the history of the Grey Wolves. The tables beyond the Lords were occupied by the remaining thirty-two Grey Hunters, sixteen Blood Claws eighteen Wolf Scouts and fifteen Long Fangs. They sat in silence, some in power armor others dressed in their tunics. Beyond them at the outermost tables sat more than two hundred huskaerls. Astartes and mortal alike were waiting to know why the company had been summoned so thoroughly.


At the very center of the room sat the massive form of the Wolf Lord, Orlath the Bearded Wolf, Master of the Grey. Though shorter than Buud he was noticebly more powerful, his frame far more massive. Leaning beside his chair as always was the tremendous frost blade Wraithfang. He rose slowly and took a deep breath clearing his throat.


"Brothers, sisters, children of Russ I stand here before you to tell you all that we must go again into the jaws of Morkai." The wolf lords voice boomed like two massive stones grinding against eachother deep beneath the surface of fenris. "Our munitions stocks have fallen low and we must resupply. We will be leaving warpspace in twenty-four hours and entering realspace dangerously close to Centrii Proxima. The world has been invaded by the greenskin tide and all communications with the Imperial bastion within Centrii Prime have been lost. When the Munin enters realspace she will immediately launch all landing craft. The manouvre will be dangerous, but it will allow us to drop in before the xenos have a chance to discover our presence in the system. Our main objective is the Imperial bastion within Centrii Prime."


The wolf lord leaned over and dropped his voice to a terrible snarl. "We will rain like Hel-fire upon the Bastion, and our fury shall burn the xenos filth from its halls. The spoils within the bastion are ours for the claiming. We will take everything of value and leave nothing for the Orks. We will raise this bastion and leave nowhere for the greenskins to hide. We will kill the warboss and its command forces. We will bring damage and death to the green horde, and will do all this before sunrise."


Orlath straightened back up grasping the huge frost blade and thrusting it above his head one handed. "For Russ! For the lost, and for mankind!"


The entire gathering let loose with the warcry of the Grey Wolves.


"No go you pathetic bastards! Youve got preparations to make!"


The room quickly and noisily cleared leaving only the Wolf Lord and his advisors behind.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Blood Claw IX


The interior of the drop pod was deathly silent as the blood claws strapped themselves into their restraining harnesses. It was bad luck to break the silence before the pod left the ship. As they stood in silence the shadowy form of Torm entered their pod and began strapping himself in as well. Looks of puzzlement crossed the faces of the claws but none dared speak.


As the ramps rose into place and sealed shut Lykos grinned widely. "So... Why do we remain silent before the launch exactly?"


His pack brothers groaned and muttered to themselves in reply as Lykos began to laugh to himself.


"You've doomed us all Lykos." Sturm growled in disapproval.


"Oh please Sturm, you know there's no luck. Only what Russ and the Emperor have planned for us."


"Silence, both of you," Torm commanded. "I have been ordered to ensure your pack reaches its target destination."


Torm thumbed a rune on his forearm and the tactical display within the pod flashed to life, showing a three dismensional image of Centrii Proxima from orbit within the holo-globe. The image zoomed in until it was focused on an area less than one-hundred yards to the South of the Imperial bastion.


"We'll be making planet fall at this location," the map showed a water treatment facility complete with a reservoir and purification tanks. Markers on the map around their landing zone showed the huskaerls own thunderhawk landing zones which would provide cover for the blood claws assault.


"We'll rupture the purification tanks and pollute the reservoir. It wont stop the orks in the area but it will slow their reproduction capabilities."


Thumbing the rune again the globe zoomed in further until the pack was looking at an underground pipeline that lead from the tanks to the interior of the bastion.


"Then using the water treatment line beneath we'll gain entry into the lower levels of the bastion. According to Imperial records the line should let us out beneath the armory within the bastion, we'll then use meltabombs to gain entrance to the armory."


There was a metallic grinding noise as the drop pod was moved into launch position by massive machines within the Munins launch bay. The globe changed again and the claws could see markers indicating the predetermined arrival points of the terminators of Grey Company.


"Once inside the armory we'll reconvene with Grey Company who will have already teleported directly into the armory and hold the objective until Damage Company arrives."


The pod shook again this time rumbling and vibrating as the launch systems activated. A klaxon within the pod sounded and with a deafening roar the pod was launched likea missile from its firing tube. The astartes within the pod felt themselves become lighter as the pod accelerated faster and faster. Then they were weightless, the pod had exited the tube and entered the void and the klaxon had gone silent.


"Once Damage company has secured the armory our pack and Sergeant Vegos Grey Hunters will move to the atmospheric controls within the Bastions command center. We'll disable the climate moderation systems and bring Fenrisian winter Centrii Proxima. The warboss won't be able to put up a strong defense when hes trapped between the two main forces of our great company and with their forces headless, their spawning grounds polluted beyond use and the atmosphere colder than they find tolerable the planetary defense forces should be able to hold the orks back long enough for reinforcements to arrive."


The drop pod shook violently as it entered the atmosphere of Centrii Proxima and the young warriors within felt themselves regain their normal weight. An explosion shook the pod again this time much more violently than anything theyd felt thus far. The pod was shaking out of balance its stabilizers had become damaged somehow and it gradually began to rock and spin. The lights within the pod flickered and went out, the holo-globe went black and the pack found itslef bathed in utter darkness. Wulf looked around in the black and saw only the two red orbs of Torms eye-lenses. They gave off an eerie red glow that illuminated the muzzle of his helmet.


'Like two red suns in the void,' he thought to himself.


"Helmets on and prepare yourselves for a crash landing lads. This is going to hurt." Sergeant Blackfang muttered to his pack.


"Okay, maybe, JUST maybe... Ive doomed us all." Lykos voice sounded worried in the darkness.


Wulf locked his helmet in place and could instantly see through the pitch dark enveloping the pack. He could see Lykos face twisted into a doubtful grimace as he pulled his own helmet on. Sturm, Ulf and the others were doing the same.


Osriks voice rang acorss the vox, uttering prayers to the Emperor, "Emperor preserve us, see us throu-"


"Silence whelp!" Torm growled loudly cutting off Osriks prayer. "The Emperor can't hear you, nor could he save your arse if he could. You are caught, like the rest of us in the cold, uncaring hands of fate. Today we hunt and today our enemies die, or we die."

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  • 2 years later...

Blood Claw X


The spinning drop pod gained momentum until the young warriors within felt as if their eyes would be sucked from their skulls.


"Okay! Make it stop now! I want to get off!" Shouted Lykos.


A deep growling laugh began emanating from Ulf, almost maniacal in its tone. Mykal began whooping and howling and Sturm began singing.


"Hold ye lads black skies do loom, with lightnings crash and thunders boom.

Cut the sails and ride the storm, were far from land and further from home."


"The seas of Fenris run through our blood as we spear the Nar and hunt the Wyrm.

Cut the sails and ride the storm, were far from land and further from home", Osrik joined in.


The entire pack began to sing as Torm remained silent, allowing the pups their escape from the terror of their crash. Only the wise hunter heard the shriek of plasteel and ceramite as the pods tortured frame lost the battle against the inertial stress applied to it. The hunter began to sing.


"Hush now lads and heed my verse, the waves grow larger and the storm grows worse.

Cut the sails and ride the storm, were far from land and further from home".


With the deafening scream of metal one of the wings was lost and a ramp flew open. The pod began to tumble wildly through the air. Somersaulting as light flooded the interior allowing the passengers to see the sky, the rapidly approaching land, then the sky again in a seemingly endless repetition.


"We die this day in blackest storm, were far from land and further from home".


The song was ended by the abrupt landing and the sudden rush of water.

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