Post Siege of Terra

[Lividjoker]

Edit- Didn't mean to leave it in short stories, but making it into one wouldnt be difficult....

 

Hey guys I started this a while back, just before I started my submissions to BL, (still hoping, but yeah you know the drill) Its my personal take on how the Codex Reforms went down. Although the end of the series is most likely many years away there is the chance that this wont get covered (unlikely to do its relevance to events after it the 'Iron Cage' for example) When I started it was before I had been able to read several books (now I'm up to date) so some characters may be out of place or dead in the future or current. Anyways I hope you like begining stages, for what its worth.

 

~Dramatis Personae~

 

The Primarchs:

Lion El’Johnson- Primarch, Dark Angels

 

Leman Russ- Primarch, Space Wolves

 

Rogal Dorn- Primarch, Imperial Fists

 

Roboute Guilliman- Primarch, Ultramarines

 

Corvus Corax- Primarch, Raven Guard

 

Jaghatai Khan- Primarch, White Scars

 

Legiones Astartes Personae:

The Blood Angels Legion:

Raldoron- Chapter Master

 

Azkaellon- Herald to Sanguinius

 

Thoros- Captain, 17th Assault Company, the ‘Flesh Tearers’

 

The Dark Angels Legion:

Corswain- Equerry to Johnson

Tragan- Captain, 9th Order

 

The Imperia Fists Legion:

Sigismund- First Captain, the Emperor’s Champion

Alexis Polux- Captain, 10th Company

Fafnir Rann- Assault Captain, 26th Company

 

The Ultramarines Legion:

Marius Gage- Chapter Master, 1st Chapter

Remus Ventanus- Captain, 4th Company

 

The White Scars Legion:

Jubal Khan- First Captain

 

Chapter One- Aftermath

The traitors were in full retreat. Terra had been saved, and by greater extent the entirety of the Imperium of Man. Eternity Gate still stood mighty and proud, although it was a little worse for wear, even now the repair efforts were being made by the Imperial Fists legion. The plains in front of the gate were littered with traitor Astartes dead as well as loyalist dead. The plains had become a killing ground when the Blood Angels, one of the noblest Legions, went into a berserk rage and leapt from their cover and butchered anything they came across. Now for miles around it was a sea of mixed colours, reds and silvers, yellows and sea-greens. All the legions present at the siege had dead here. Fires raged in the wrecks of tanks and titans. The now restraint Blood Angels walked through the fields of dead and killed any of the traitors that yet lived.

 

The skies were empty of ships, save those loyal to the Emperor. Now it was filling up with more loyalist ships. Those legions that had been too far to help in the siege were now arriving. Ships of the honoured first legion exited warp space some many months from Terra. The Macragge’s Honour, the flagship of the Ultramarines dominated the loyalist shipping lanes alongside the Raptorus Rex, though none of the new loyalist ships could cause as much awe as the Phalanx, the massive flagship and fortress of the Imperial Fists. Alongside the Ultramarines fleet were vessels of the honoured first, the Dark Angels. As hard as he tried Sigismund could not locate the Invincible Reason the Lion’s flagship- he imagined that both Guilliman and the Lion were aboard the Macragge’s Honour as almost all of the internal ship transmissions between both the Angels and Ultramarines were being beamed to Guilliman’s flagship.

 

Sigismund stood silent looking at the tactical map in the command and control room of the Phalanx. He watch as he saw all manner of Legion ships enter the control space of Terra. Unlike his liege lord, he held no disrespect for those Legions who had failed to make it to Terra. To him it was all due to Horus’ matriculate planning. The siege happened when many Legions were too far away to support Terra no matter what.

The honoured first captain didn’t mind anyway, it was more single combat kills for his growing tally. The only thing that unsettled him was the Blood Angels unexplained berserk charge. He had watched in awe and shock at the head of the defence at Eternity Gate as Raldoron, one of his closest friends in the Blood Angels, dropped his bolter and charged head long into the oncoming world eaters with his spear in hand. The shock counter-charge broke the back of Angron’s dogs, but that didn’t seem to stop the Blood Angels’ rampant slaughter.

 

Sigismund was taken out of his momentary trance by a hail siren, “Incoming hail lord!” He looked up and nodded to the serf. “Patch it through.” The holographic display changed as a large figure filled it. Sigismund bowed his head to the figure, he recognised him instantly. “Lord Johnson, welcome to Terra.” Johnson was being depicted in his ceremonial war plate.

A long robe covered parts of his armour; his battle cloak was fastened by a pin version of his legion symbol. His voice was rough and was spoken wearily. “Dispense with the formalities captain. Where are my brothers, and father!” Sigismund couldn’t see the Primarch’s face, it was covered with a hood so only his mouth could be seen over the holo.

“My Liege lord is on Terra, as for the Emperor…..” Sigismund could feel Johnson’s hard stare bore into him, “Well!” he snapped, “Tell me where my father is.”

Sigismund looked into the Lion’s face, “He’s integrated into the golden throne…. He’s dying.” Deep inside himself, he could sense the words had gone ill with Johnson the moment he said them Johnson cut the link to him. Sigismund looked around and saw sergeant Ammon moving towards him, “Best to prepare for more responses like that captain.” He said with reluctance. Sigismund glanced at him and simply nodded.

 

The imager started to flicker into life again, this time two figures appeared. However this time they were both Astartes. Sigismund recognised the first of them immediately. “Marius!” he said proudly, “It’s been a long time.” Marius Gage looked at Sigismund for a moment, “Indeed it has. It’s been too long since we fought side by side.” Marius was a changed man to Sigismund’s eyes. He had seen and done things that many Astartes had only just gone through. Though he still looked the same, his face had new scars from his recent conflicts.

 

The figure next to Marius pulled his hood back to reveal his own face. His face two was covered with fresh scars, “This is Corswain.” Marius began, “Paladin and Mantle of the Champion, of the Dark Angels 9th Order. He is also Lord Johnson’s equerry for the time being” Corswain nodded his regard to watching Fist Captain. “It’s been a long and blood trek to get back to Terra brother. But you shouldn’t have told the Lion the news straight away.” Marius nodded his agreement. “I was not aware the affect it would have on the Lion would be so profound.” Sigismund admitted, “But in either case bad news is bad news no matter who is the messenger.”

Marius turned his head away as he started to talk to someone out of shot. “Tell me Sigismund both our lords are very intent on wanting to land. Oblige them and find us a suitable place to lie at anchor.” Sigismund waved his hand to one of his deck officers who started fumbling through the data reports to find a location for the Macragge’s Honour to dock. The officer gave him the data pad and he studied it briefly, “I’m sending you the location now Marius.”

Marius nodded, Corswain left the imaging station but Marius stayed. “One last thing brother, Guilliman wishes to hold a council with his brothers. We’re having a hard time reaching Dorn, Khan and Sanguinius.” Marius paused as Sigismund averted his eyes, “What’s wrong brother?” Marius queried. Sigismund held an aquila pendant that was hanging from the neck of his power armour, “Sanguinius is dead brother. He was choked to death by Horus.” Marius took in a sharp intake of breath, “What that’s impossible. The Angel was the best fighter out of all his brothers!” Sigismund had no answer for Chapter Master, “We all feel for the loss that the Angels have taken.” Marius placed his hand above his left heart and bowed his head. “As it should be- We shall speak again soon, brother.” The image flickered from life and Sigismund was left with his thoughts about the Emperor once more.

 

***

Raldoron breathed heavily. His blood red armour was dented and battered; patches of its paintwork had either been scratched of or burnt off by the traitors. His dark hair had streaks of dried blood in it. The face that had once resembled that of a calculated killer was filled with many emotions and state of thought. He was filled with rage and sadness, rage for the bloody toll his legion had taken during the defence of Eternity gate, and a great sadness for the unjustly death of his Primarch. Sanguinius’ body now rested in a stasis pod in the Emperor’s palace. He had been laid to rest in his most decorated ceremonial armour- his own death mask had been crafted after his death. Almost all of the Blood Angels had been to see their Primarch’s remains; their rage had subsided for now.

 

Raldoron had tasked the sanguinary priesthood to find out what was now happening to their geneseed. He gazed into the stasis pod that held his Primarch in its timeless grip. A voice resonated behind him, “He’s to be taken back to Baal soon to be buried.” Raldoron didn’t need to turn and look at the speaker to know who he was. “It’s not right Azkaellon. Our Primarch did not deserve this fate.” Azkaellon walked up next to battered form of his brother. Unlike Raldoron, Azkaellon was clad in golden armour. Its designs resonated that of those seen in the ancient Peloponnesian lands. Raldoron could still feel sanguinary guard’s resentment at being left behind by their Primarch. “The Librarians tell me that some of our lord’s psychic echoes have imbued themselves into the death mask.” Raldoron turned to Azkaellon, “How so?” The somewhat miniature version of the Primarch, removed his ornate helmet and held it in the crook of his left arm. He himself bore a remarkable resemblance to Sanguinius himself, it seemed like all of the legions had someone who emanated their Primarch. “It was crafted from the remains of Sanguinius’ own battle helm- his hatred of Horus was strong enough that his psychic echoes of rage became one with it. This makes the mask a powerful artifact to be used.” Raldoron thought on this new fact for a brief moment. “Until our lord is buried on Baal his mask remains where it belongs.”

 

With his mind spoken for he turned sharply on his foot and walked away, his black and battered battle clock drifting behind him. Azkaellon remained alone. He moved his golden gauntleted hand and placed it atop of the stasis casket, “Rest in peace lord Sanguinius. I and Raldoron shall not fail you.”

 

Raldoron walked back out into the courtyard that separated large portions of the palace. He felt the sun beat down on his battle worn face. He let the warmth of Terra’s sun fill his battered spirit. Behind him he could hear Azkaellon’s foot falls. Raldoron didn’t look behind him. Instead he closed his eyes as he recalled the fateful moment at the Eternity Gate as Sanguinius descended from the heavens to do battle to Argel Tal and shortly afterwards, the great Bloodthirster, Ka’Bandha…..

 

Raldoron slid his glaive through the opening between the armpit and the chest carapace of the Word Bearer’s blood dark armour. He relentlessly forced the blade through making sure that it pierced both the traitor’s black hearts. Raldoron wrenched his sword free with a roar of triumph. Snapping up his bolt pistol he fired deadly accurate shots into the eye lenses of two more Word Bearers. “They show us no mercy brothers! Respond in kind for the glory of the Legion!” He shouted through his vox amplifiers. A blade came slashing forward towards his un-helmeted face. He parried it aside with easy. Again the blade came back, this time however Raldoron grabbed the hand that held it and twisted it to the side and moved the blade back towards its owner’s hideously deformed face. It was a struggle to keep the blade where it was they were both of equal strength. There! Raldoron said to himself. The traitor Word Bearer’s neck was exposed.

 

Raldoron furiously kneed the traitor in the side and slid his glaive across his throat. Blood splatted onto his face from the gushing wound, he couldn’t resist the urge to lick it from his lips. He could feel the thirst building deep inside him, it took all his force of will to keep it buried down in his gut out of the way- right now the Legion needed him to be a level headed commander, not a butcher of foes like the Bezerkers of the insane bastard Angron. Heavy cannon shells impacted into the earth and defences around the Imperial Fist and Blood Angel defenders.

Perturabo’s Iron Warriors were intent on annihilating Dorn’s improved fortifications; they cared little about who they killed. In the far distance he could see the World Eaters charging blindly and heedless of the gunfire, their own Primarch Angron leading them. Dust and mud was sent flying into the air as a heavy cannon shell impacted into the earth, sending debris skyward next to the Blood Angel. But there were other dangerous things that also came from the heavens.

 

A guttering roar made the immediate fighting stop. It was a hideous beast to behold. It was once the Word Bearer by the name of Argel Tal. Now it was as big as a Contemptor Dreadnought. Tusks protruded from its head. The remains of the blood dark armour could be seen in places. The creature ripped one of the Imperial fist defenders apart with its immense claws, the black smoke misting from its wings was an acidic shadow, slowly eating into the golden armour of every Imperial Fist warrior nearby. In the great beasts’ grip, the bisected Imperial Fist fought on, firing his bolter down into the daemon’s face.

The armoured creature hurled the warrior’s legs aside, turning its corrupted helm from the shells crackling against its faceplate. Then the daemon slammed the halved Imperial Fist onto its taurine crown, impaling the Legionary on its right horn. That, at last, stilled the warrior’s defiance. His bolter fell from his hands, clattering down the shadow-wrapped wings. The daemon fought on, untroubled by the weight of the armoured torso punctured onto its ivory crest.

 

A peal of thunder roared from the Eternity Gate itself, as another winged figure landed amidst the melee. It landed with the thunderous of impacts, crushing a handful of Word Bearers with the force of it, bones were snapped and armour crushed there were no survivors. It slowly rose back up to its full height unfurling its wings, wings that were torn and stained, ragged with rips and the white feathers streaked by blood.

 

Its armour was a shattered ruin of split steel and burnished gold, while its face was masked by a golden helm with bright ruby red eye lenses that burned with the intensity of a red nova. Behind its head as a solid plate of gold that was formed like the radiating rays of a sun, it was encrusted with blood drop gems. The burnished gold armour bore a distinctive symbol in several places, a red orb with a black slit in its centre, the Eye of Terra. A battle clocked billowed out from under the mighty white wings. It bore resemblance to a Terran Leopard. Its head rested silently on the figures right shoulder.

The blade in its hands rippled with a blue psychic flame, bright enough to sear the sight from any watcher’s eyes if stared at too long. In its other hand was a magnificent spear, coming from its point were two golden wings that twisted around the bottom half of the spear tip. Ruby red electrical energies danced around its head. The magnificent form of Sanguinius, Lord of Angels, and Bane of Daemons had come to join his Legion and his brother, Rogal Dorn’s legion, at Eternity Gate.

 

He surveyed the battle before him. Predator tanks sat silent, smoke billowing from their top hatches. The crashed wrecks Stormbirds burned furiously their twisted metal frames wrought with impact marks and heat burns; the gun batteries of the Imperial Fists could still be heard echoing in the distance. Balls of super-heated plasma and bright beams were exchanging blows with each other across the vast killing ground. Groups of Astartes were sent hurtling into the air, others were vaporised by lascannon and conversion beamer shots. Bolters barked, chainswords screeched. Men’s dying screams could be heard and seen in all directions.

Barbed wire was cast astray as ordnance from both sides impacted thunderously into the earth; clouds of earth and rocks were sent skyward and fell back to earth like a hailstorm. Trenches were filling with Imperial Army dead, they were caught in a war were Gods reigned supreme this wasn’t a fight for the feinted hearted. Daemons ran rampant and heedlessly into the gun lines of the Astartes. Blood Angels assault troops fought a gallant and brave melee campaign. Their Captains leading from the front, Raldoron was as ever precise and deadly with his strokes, as ever he caught Sanguinius’ eye.

Each strike was a fatal one, each one a death blow. Next to him was the golden armoured form of Azkaellon. His angelus boltgun spat out shells, his glaive rose and fell rose and fell, it was a whirlwind of gore were he and his fellows went. His jump pack screamed as he descended from the heavens leading the rest of the jump infantry bodies were broken and shields split.

[Chapter Master Onyxius]

I love can't wait to see some more of this work. Great work keep it up!

[Lividjoker]

Continuation from the first post.

 

Sanguinius turned his gaze to the Imperial Fists. A figure clad in black power armour with crosses on his white and yellow armour plating, the vigils of Sigismund. His mighty blade cleaved Astartes in twain. His battle cries pushing his Imperial Fists ever onwards. The chaplains fought with him uttering the litanies of hate. Company banners were held high as the blood melee started to envelop all. Sanguinius turned his attention back to the creature, which had grown angry and Sanguinius’ simple dismissal of him. Sanguinius sensed a familiar presence moving towards him, he stood at in his battered and decorated mark IV war-plate, Raldoron. Argel Tal roared the challenge to Sanguinius.

 

He turned fully to face the majestic Primarch. Sanguinius turned his head to Raldoron whom had now managed to get to his Primarch, “My son.” He said as he gracefully knelt down beside him, “Take the spear of Telesto.” Raldoron gripped the mighty weapon, even by Astartes standards, the spear was massive, “You need not say anything Raldoron, and I know you shall use it wisely until I come to collect it again.” Raldoron nodded as Sanguinius stood back up and started to slowly walk towards Argel Tal. The beast was starting to run now. Sanguinius tightened his right hands grip on the blood sword, he opened left hand and started to let the warp flow through him. Coruscating ruby red energy started to flicker around his open palm, “Come then hell-spawn! Your kin tried to kill me and my Legion on Signus and did not succeed!” Sanguinius roared as he unleashed a torrent of telekinetic lightning from his hand. It impacted into Argel Tal’s chest. Sanguinius saw the pain register in the beast’s eyes. Argel Tal went into berserk frenzy and with a deafening roar, charged headlong at the Primarch.

 

Sanguinius shifted his weight forward and opened his arms wide as Argel Tal’s head impacted into his chest. Sanguinius grunted as the charge hit home, but its effect had been blunted as he had planned. Sanguinius moved his hands around Argel’s neck. He delivered a furious knee into Argel’s chest. Argel grabbed both of Sanguinius’ arms in his bloodied claws and threw him back. Sanguinius flipped over backwards but spun back upright and skidded to a halt. Sanguinius heard the sound of a chainsword racing towards him. He spun around quickly and grabbed the Word Bearer by his arms and ripped them from their sockets, no mercy for traitors. It was then that Sanguinius felt a sharp pain in his chest; slowly he turned back around to see Argel Tal split a Blood Angels’ sergeant in twain in one fluid motion. A faint grin of pleasure appeared around Argel’s face. Sanguinius felt his rage building up inside of himself. No! Not again, you shan’t take hold of me again! He beckoned in his mind. To his surprise he thought he could hear a faint reply of his own inner daemon, “Let me loose Sanguinius, you cannot defeat him without losing your strength. He is coming, coming to deliver the death blow!” Sanguinius knew whom he meant, “Ka’Bandha.” The inner voice whispered to give voice to Sanguinius’ own thoughts. Sanguinius used his sheer force of will to silence it, “Enough!” The voice had stopped for now. Sanguinius now fixed his eyes back on Argel Tal.

Sanguinius didn’t want to risk falling to his rage again and instead with one swift movement of his wings sent himself hurtling towards Argel Tal. His shoulder impacted into the beast’s chest. He arched his sword down from overhead, slicing part of Argel’s horns of. He roared at Sanguinius and punched him in the chest. He swung again with claws extended for the Primarch’s head. The Primarch ducked, only just managing to get under the swipe. The claws scratched against the top of his helmet. Sanguinius channelled his energies once again into his blood sword the blade became covered in the blue psychic flame once more. He sliced up with the blade, cutting through a piece of the crimson armour that Argel still wore. Daemonic blood oozed from the open wound.

 

Sanguinius punched out with his left hand. His burnished gold gauntlet connected against the side of Argel’s face. The sound of the jaw dislocating echoed out around them. Argel swung wide with his arm and knocked Sanguinius out of melee range. Argel moved his hands around his move and with a snap he relocated his jaw back into place. Sanguinius cursed silently to himself. “Raldoron!” he beckoned over the vox, “Aye lord!” Sanguinius was relieved that his son was still alive, “Get back to the gate, ranged weapons only.” Raldoron said something that was muffled out by and explosion near to him, “My lord I will not leave you out here!” Sanguinius was grateful for Raldoron’s defiance but right now he wanted him safe, “No my son. I will not risk you dying now! I can feel it building within me; I will not let you be subject to it again. I promise I will re-join you I will not allow you to fight this fight. Trust me Raldoron.” Another explosion echoed through the vox feed, “I do trust you my liege. You have my word that we will refrain from fighting in melee near that thing until you have slaughtered it.” Sanguinius breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could fight without fear of his sons dying trying to stop a fatal blow, he could handle himself.

Argel hurtled from the heavens on his black wings. Sanguinius had only the briefest of warnings in order to dodge the attack from the air. Sanguinius thrust forward with his sword. He drove the blade deep into Argel’s gut. He wrenched the blade free, more tainted ichor oozed from the gash in Argel’s stomach. Argel stabbed his sharp claws into Sanguinius’ back. He grunted in pain. He stabbed his blade into Argel’s chest, aiming for his right heart. He it home, Argel let out as massive howl of pain, but he didn’t lesson his grip on Sanguinius’ back. The Primarch reached over his back with both hands had grasped around Argel’s wrist and pulled it from his armoured plates and flesh. He felt his body already working to clot the wounds. Sanguinius used Argel’s own weight against him and hefted him into the air and slammed him down on his back, crippling the monster’s wings. Sanguinius moved forward to remove his sword from Argel’s heart when a fist punched into his helmet causing part of it to deform around his head. Sanguinius removed it and hung it from his waist. His elegant face revealed.

 

His long blonde hair flowed out freely behind him now as it was caught in a strong breeze that now swept over the pair of winged warriors. And like the day he had been found on Baal Secundus, an aura of light was radiated from around his head. Argel tried to get back to his feet, but Sanguinius forced him back to the ground with his burnished gold boot heel. He ripped his sword free of Argel’s chest. He said nothing as he looked the beast in the eyes, but Argel’s eyes spoke more words the he would have thought. Sanguinius saw something, something he wouldn’t have thought to see in a daemon, it was fear. Argel Tal feared what Sanguinius was about to deliver. “You are right to fear this. For you do not belong in the realm of man.” Sanguinius said with no hint of venom or malice in his voice. Sanguinius’ blade sliced through Argel’s neck in a single fluid motion. Argel's head rolled backwards as his blood leaked from both his neck and head forming a pool around his decapitated body.

Sanguinius moved away from the body. He watched as the surviving Word Bearers fell back to re-group for a counter-assault. Sanguinius looked back to the Eternity Gate. He could see a sea of red and yellow of the assembled Legiones Astartes. He raised his bloody sword high above his head. He could hear the cheers of both Blood Angels and Imperial Fists alike. He had given them a victory; he had given them the sight and spirit they needed to keep fighting to defend the Emperor from Horus and his traitorous dogs......

 

Raldoron shook his head clear of the memories. He was gasping for breath, he hadn’t noticed that he’d been leaning against one of the rockcrete pillars that lined the garden he and Azkaellon were standing in. “Brother?” Azkaellon’s voice was filled with some concern over his brother, “You look troubled. What is it?” Raldoron recomposed himself and stood up right. He looked into Azkaellon’s face. “I was recalling the battle that Sanguinius had against Argel Tal… but.” He paused for a brief moment. Azkaellon stood silent waiting for Raldoron to finish. “They were not my memories. The point of view was never my own. It was like I Sanguinius.” Azkaellon’s face shared the same hint of concern that Raldoron’s now did. “You mean like back during the rage? When the men started calling out Horus’ name?” Raldoron nodded, “Sanguinius’ death affected us deeper than I first thought.” He said just above a whisper. Azkaellon placed his hand firmly on Raldoron’s blood red ceramite shoulder. It was only now that Azkaellon noticed a new icon painted upon it. Next to the winged blood drop crest of their legion was a small black cross. “What is that?” he asked. Raldoron looked at were Azkaellon was pointing. “It denotes the thirst. Those who suffered the rage are to have their armature painted black with a red cross. To be known as the Death Company.” Azkaellon nodded understanding it now, “Worry not Raldoron, even if it takes use ten-thousand years we shall find a cure for our greatest strength and weakness.”

 

***

 

Sigismund heard the bulkhead door hiss open behind him, the bright light of the lume globes only making his black armour seem even darker. Two bulky figures walked in, both bore the iconography of the Imperial Fists, but both were unique in their own way. The one of the left was slightly smaller than his counterpart whom he was with. Both his ceramite gauntlets were painted in blood crimson. A green laurel was placed atop his battle helm, impact holes and deep cuts were scattered across the warrior’s wargear. His left hand bore a unique weapon that their Primarch had gifted him for his bravery in the fighting; it was a lovingly crafted storm bolter that Rogal Dorn had used himself countless times It was covered in burnished gold leaf detailing. It had earned itself the name of Dorn’s Arrow in its master’s service. A crimson battle clock hung loosely from his back, it was clasped on his chest in a small fist pendant.

The warrior next to him was large brute of a man. He stood almost a head taller than Sigismund himself. Skull trophies of his most memorable kills hung from a chain around his waist, he had even gone as far as to cut the flesh of his fallen enemies and pin it to parts of his power armour. His armour also bore deep gashes; dried blood was dabbed around them both his own and that of his fallen foes. His helmet’s left eye lens was blacked out due the damaged the warrior’s armature had sustained in the heavy fighting at Eternity Gate, the other lens still shone out as red as it had the day it was made. A massive black-bladed power axe was slung over his shoulder and mag-locked in the gap between his back plate and his backpack, Lifetaker.

 

The smallest of the pair spoke first. “Sigismund it’s good to see you again.” Sigismund nodded to the warrior, “And I you, Alexis.” He turned his attention to the other Astartes, “Fafnir- I trust your axe has taken its fair share of traitorous heads this day?” Fafnir let out a small grunted laugh, “Aye indeed it has, in both Dorn and the Emperor’s name.” he said with a venomous grin behind his helm. Sigismund was not fond of Fafnir’s methods despite the high praise Dorn held Fafnir in. Sigismund was a warrior of nobility and honour; he preferred to fight on more even terms, sword to sword. Fafnir was one of Lord Dorn’s most viscous assault captains; he only cared about killing his foes like an executioner of old, brutal and bloody- Honour was not his concern, only when the Legion’s honour was at stake did it become Fafnir's concern.

 

An alarm claxon began to sound of. Sigismund thought he heard Fafnir say something under his breath but dismissed it as the three ran into the command station, “Deck officer report!” Sigismund bellowed over the alarm. The deck officer spun around on the spot, his face was full of horror and surprise, “Sir it’s…. It’s the unthinkable!” Sigismund was about to reply when a retort was spat out by Fafnir, “What is it damn you!” he said snarling behind his battered helmet. Sigismund saw the deck officer take a gulp before responding, “It’s a warship exiting warp dangerously close to us. It bears the markings of the….” He paused again, Sigismund waved his hand to Fafnir who looked like he was about to beat the answers he wanted out of the poor man. “Speak and quickly.” Sigismund said calmly. “It bears the markings of one of the Iron Warriors ships!”

Fafnir punched his fist into the side of the wall. “What! Perturabo’s bastards have some nerve pulling a stunt like this!” his fists were clenched tight, “Give those whore dogs a broadside! I’ll lead my company in and slaughter the rest!” Sigismund shot Fafnir a glance that silenced him, “No.” he said simply, “We inform Lord Dorn.” Alexis who was the only one who hadn’t spoken out yet stepped forward. “I’m sorry Sigismund but I must agree with Fafnir- we have to act now. If we give them any sort of ground out here more could warp in. If they land Terra’s done for!” Sigismund cursed to himself, they were right. He nodded, “Fine- Fafnir, ready your company for a boarding assault.” He turned to face Alexis next, “Alexis prepare your company to repel any boarders. Deck officer! Inform lord Dorn of the situation.”

 

Fafnir was glad to see his company was already fully armed for war once again. The hanger was lined with Stormbird drop ships as well as boarding torpedoes. Astartes were walking back and forth in their battered mark III armour. The golden yellow paint scratched and burnt all over their armour, only the black fist was left with its white backing, “Vhako!” Fafnir bellowed. A sergeant turned around to look at him. His blood red helmet stood out amongst his fellows, “A chance to butcher more of Perturabo’s bastard whore sons again, and a rare treat it is!” He said with a venomous smile. Fafnir laughed, “Of course brother. Let’s kill them quickly- word has it Guilliman wants to meet with his brothers, something important according Jubal.” Vhako inclined his head, “The Khan told you this? That’s interesting to say the least.” Fafnir nodded, “But we owe them as much as they owe us- we are indebted for life to the Scars.” Vhako slammed his fist into his dented chest, “Long live Dorn and the Emperor!” he roared so that the whole company could hear. They all likewise did the same.

 

***

 

Dorn paced silently back and forth in front of the shinning form of the golden throne. His own golden armour reflecting the sun light that came beaming though the shattered walls and windows; he would make Perturabo pay for the damage he had caused dearly. His ceramite plating was dented and chipped. Sword marks and plasma burns were scattered across his chest. Every so often he would glance at the throne and his father, the once magnificent form of the Emperor was now withering away. To the left of the throne was a simple wooden casket that held Malcador the Sigillite. Footsteps filled the great throne room; they were not Dorn’s however. He turned to face a figure of equal stature to Dorn, “Jaghatai” he said plainly. The two embraced each other in open arms. Jaghatai like Dorn was still wearing his battered war attire. Jaghatai’s long thin beard reached down to the bottom of his chest. His hair was all gathered into one long strand and was held together in a warrior’s top knot on his head and fell down behind it again. The white ceramite of his armour showed the telltale signs of plasma burns and flame damage. “Guilliman wants us all to gather for a war council.” Jaghatai said calmly knowing what Dorn’s reaction would be. Dorn snarled, “The son who is absent from the battle now comes home from his empire and demands a war council?” Dorn’s voice was full of venom; clearly he was at odds with Guilliman.

 

Jaghatai looked at him sternly for a moment, “He sent aid.” Jaghatai protested to his brother. Dorn scoffed at the comment, “Some of Perturabo’s un-loyal lackeys and his own champion?” he gave a foul snigger. “But they helped in the defense did they not? Those ‘lackeys’ helped your Legion improve the defense.” Dorn spun around at the last comment his eyes filled with anger and sadness. Jaghatai was unmoved and un-phased, he continued. “Regardless of what you think of our brothers he still has the largest Legion.” Dorn scoffed again, “Because he hid away in his empire.” Jaghatai back handed his brother. Dorn was stuck with surprise at the speed of his brother's reaction, “You know all too well that the warp storms prevented our forces from getting here! It was with my deep regret that I had to abandon Russ to Alpharius due to your orders and the current warp travel situation!” Dorn held his hands into the air and conceded the point. “Who else has arrived then?” Jaghatai paused for a moment, “The Lion is with Guilliman. Reports are coming in from both the fleets of Russ and Corax. We still have no word from Vulkan, and Manus….” Dorn shared the moment of sadness with Jaghatai, “Is dead.” Dorn said finishing for Jaghatai. “Fleets from the Iron Hands are filtering into the system however.” Jaghatai said turning to a brighter mood, “Though by the sounds of it, the Iron Hands companies have been acting independent of each other.”

Dorn sighed heavily, a single tear rolled down onto his check. Jaghatai looked at him as Dorn lifted his hand and removed the tear on the tip of his finger, “You blame yourself for Ferrus’ death don’t you brother?” Dorn nodded. “Ferrus’ death was not your fault-The blame lies at Fulgrim’s door; Ferrus wanted his vengeance and rushed to deliver the blow.” Dorn shook his head his head, “No it is my fault I put him in charge of the force. I should have led it myself.” He said the sadness heavy in his voice. “If you went and led it who then would have fortified the palace!” Jaghatai protested. Dorn looked into Jaghatai’s eyes, “For all the good it did! They still breached the walls!” Dorn snapped. Jaghatai recognized the signs of the guilt building up within his brother, and for the first time, he feared for his brother.

[Llagos_Tyrant]

This is awesome.

 

I once saw an image of Dorn based on Colonel Quaritch and its always been stuck in my mind. I can't help it, but imaging Genghis Khan and him in the same room is so awesome.

 

Also, I love the shout out to the Iron Warriors from Age of Darkness! That story was so awesome!

[Lividjoker]

This is awesome.

 

I once saw an image of Dorn based on Colonel Quaritch and its always been stuck in my mind. I can't help it, but imaging Genghis Khan and him in the same room is so awesome.

 

Also, I love the shout out to the Iron Warriors from Age of Darkness! That story was so awesome!

 

:blush: Yeah they deserved their mention. It begs to stand that it would be down to them that the Walls held as long as they did, due to their knowledge of their own Legion's tactics.

More will come soon.

[MordentHex]

I must admit that was a rather sweet read. Keep it up.

[Lividjoker]

Continuing on.

 

The massive eagle etched doors began to swing open, the sights, sounds and smells flooding into the throne room. Two golden armoured Custodes pushed the doors open as a figure in white, but bloodied armour walk slowly through the ever widening gap. A blood red, torn and ripped battle cloak dragged behind the warrior’s heels. A massive spear or halberd was slung behind the warrior’s back. Like his Liège lord his skin was oriental in its colour, he was bald. All that he had for hair on his face was mustache that had been drawn into two separate long braids that ran down both sides of his mouth and onto the top of his breast plate. The white armour was lined with intricate details that could only be found on the most ornate of armours.

 

The pair of Primarchs turned around to greet their new arrival, Jaghatai instantly recognized him, “Jubal my son!” Jubal continued to walk forward as he bowed his head to his gene-sire. “What news do you bring, Captain?” Jaghatai continued. Jubal stopped a few short paces away from the Primarchs. Jubal turned his gaze to lord Dorn, “Sigismund whished you to know that an Iron Warrior’s ship entered system and that Captain Fafnir Rann, is dealing with the situation.” Dorn raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as Jubal continued, “The second is perhaps more relevant to our situation however.”

Dorn no longer kept his silence, “Relevant how?” he growled, Jubal didn’t flinch at the Primarch’s tone. “Both Lords Guilliman and Johnson have made planet fall and are on their way here now. Lords Corax and Russ are transitioning into the system as we speak. The wolf king is less that happy about missing the battle…” Jubal trailed of as Dorn started to walk away.

 

Jaghatai looked down at his battle weary son, “What of those traitors left behind? Have they been routed yet?” Jubal took a moment’s pause before replying as the new topic line stopped Dorn in his tracks, clearly his attention was peaked. “Many have been flushed out by the Naiman clan. Temudgin’s clan, have begun moving into the outlands to burn out those who’ve gone into hiding.”

Jaghatai nodded and looked over to his brother, “Anything to say Rogal? Rogal had several things to say, but he held them in check. “Not much, once the Iron Warriors are dealt with, I’ll dispatch several of my companies to help your Legion.” Jaghatai nodded, “Excellent. Jubal you’re dismissed return to combat duties and prepare and summary debrief for my brothers before they join us.” Jubal made the symbol of the aquila on his chest and walked away.

 

***

Fafnir couldn’t wait to sink his axe once more into the bodies of the Iron Warriors. As his company travelled across the stars heading towards the Iron Warrior ship, he couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. The ship was doing nothing to prevent his forces from hurtling towards it, nor was it attempting to fire upon the Phalanx. His vox was chattering away in his ear as his men were bantering about it, the most common of which was that the Iron Warrior’s had come to surrender, and that they were hoping for Sigismund to personal see to it. Instead they were getting the executioner. Time until impact ten seconds and counting, the metallic voice rang through Fafnir’s vox bead. He shut it off and started to check on his sergeants.

 

The Assault Rams and Boarding torpedoes all hit their marks. They breached the exterior hard shielding doors on the ship’s siege hanger. As they punched through they skidded across the hard deck, screeching across it. The Explosive bolts went off as the warriors of the 26th assault company exited their transports. Fafnir ran down the assault ramp of his Stormbird that had ferried him and his elite chose to the ship. The massive axe, Lifetaker, was in his deathly grasp. The light in the hanger shimmered of its onyx black surface. His blood red fathomless eye lenses scanned the hanger in its entirety, looking for threats. To his surprise, there were none.

 

He growled silently behind his scowling battle helm. “Captain Rann to Sigismund, no hostile contacts yet. This could be a setup, prepare the Phalanx’s teleportation arrays in case we need a hasty exit.” Sigismund’s reply was quick and ready, “Roger that Fafnir, although I’d appreciate it if you don’t lose all that expensive and hard to replace equipment. Mars isn’t ours again yet.” Fafnir responded with a grunted laugh. “I’m sure the Battle Kings of Macragge will have some spares.” Fafnir closed the link to the First Captain and switched to his company channel. “Sergeant Vhako. I want 2nd, 18th and 29th squads on over-watch in this hanger. Squads 3 through 14 will investigate engineering. 28th and 30th will head to the port side hanger with Techmarine Carnac. 1st and the command squad are with me, we’re going to the bridge.” Fafnir started to walk towards one of the closed bulkhead doors as Vhako gave out his orders.

 

Fafnir inspected the door for a moment before indicating to one of the members of 1st squad, “Diomades! I want this door gone!” A hulking warrior wearing Cataphract pattern terminator armour stomped forward. A chainblade attachment on the underside of the warrior’s power fist made it an ideal door breaching tool. Fafnir nodded at the terminator as he revved up the chainblade. In a hiss of sparks and tortured metal, the marine plunged the chainblade deep into the bulkhead. Sparks flew and bounced of the massive armour plating; only managing to scorch away some of the already battered and dulling yellow paint work. When his work was done the marine punched the door down onto the ground with a loud thud. “Let’s move.” Fafnir snarled the words as he stalked away into the depths of the deathly silent Iron Warrior ship.

 

As the Imperial Fists moved throughout the ship, they were total unawares of the presence that watched from the dark recesses of the ship. Perturabo grinned to himself, safely away from the ship he’d sent back into orbit around Terra. He was already building the Eternal Fortress on the world of Sebastus IV. He watched the Imperial Fists scurrying around his ship, with the help of a vast communion of his sorcerers. He looked into the shadows near to him; a pair of beady red eyes appeared. They seemed to move free of any body, no outline could be discerned. Perturabo was still recovering from his personal encounter with the Khan. “Make sure my brother becomes aware of my plans, Daemon.” The eyes seemed to move in an acknowledging way. Hisses and snarls were returned at the Iron Warriors Primarch, he nodded seemingly able to discern the meaning. “Good. See to it that most of them escape to tell the tale. But that doesn’t mean you should go easy on my brother’s sons. I want him to feel this one.” The eyes disappeared and the conclave of sorcerers stopped their communion. Perturabo stood up in his boltgun coloured armour. He moved slowly to a massive arched window and stepped out onto the armoured balcony.

 

The balcony overlooked the entire construction operation. Massive machines moved around the earth below, trenches were being dug deep, pillboxes erected. As he looked out across the killing grounds, Perturabo could already see the siege he planned to fight here. He could see the vivid scenes of dying Imperial Fists lying in the bloody mud begging to be killed quickly; he would make them suffer for every inch they took! Perturabo unslung his massive hammer, hefting it into the air he shouted with the fury of a thunderbolt, “Iron Within!” and as though it was loud enough to the carried to every Iron Warriors’ soul on the planet he heard the reply echoing into his ears, “Iron Without!

[Lividjoker]

Fafnir could hear noises, inhuman noises echoing throughout the ship. And then ever so softly a name started to be voice softly into the vox unit, he growled to himself. “Ghost protocols, vox silence.” He turned to face Vhako after the voice had continued to get louder, “How am I to lead sergeant if my authority is undermined like this!” Vhako looked at those closest to him, “Nobody is saying anything, Captain. It’s being broadcast over all our voxes.” Fafnir snarled, “Shut it out sergeant. Purge the channels.” The words started to become clearer:

 

"Samus. That's the only name you'll hear. Samus. It means the end and the death. Samus. I am Samus. Samus is all around you. Samus is the man beside you. Samus will gnaw on your bones. Look out! Samus is here."

 

Suddenly a thundering howl echoed down the corridor. A massive centaur like beast came charging towards Fafnir and his men. Running on four hooved feet, it pounded towards the Astartes. Claw like arms snapped widely in front of it. The vividly coloured creature rampaged onwards. The Imperial Fists, recovering from the sudden shock of the attack began firing. Bolters spat out angry rounds, whilst the terminators leveled the largely untested Storm bolter weapon. Firing in precise calculating bursts the storm bolter armed terminators were a force to be reckoned with. This didn’t deter the beast however. It was almost upon the lines of Imperial Fists now.

 

Fafnir stepped forward activating the energy field around Lifetaker. With a roar of hate he leapt forward to meet the monster. The massive axe head smashed into one of its clawed arms. The monster reared up onto its hind legs and kicked out with its front legs. Lashing out with its reaming clawed hand, it went to decapitate the honoured captain. Fafnir ducked, only just dodging the opened maw of the claw. Standing back up to his full height he swung low with his axe, aiming to remove one of its legs to cripple it.

 

His attack was furiously quick, the axe head passed through one of the beast’s legs, coating Fafnir in a black ichor. The beast began to stager back. One of the Fists moved forward to finish the monster when, from the darkness a long bladed tail stabbed out and cut the marine in twain. Fafnir cursed inwardly, it had a trick up its sleeve. “Fire everything!” he bellowed into his vox. At his command the terminators brought up their storm bolters and reaper auto-cannon. In flurry of bolts the beast; the monster was annihilated through the sheer amount of anti-personal fire that a terminator squad could bring to bear. The body was lifeless and limp. Chunks of meat and bone lay scattered before the Imperial Fists, their armour slightly marred in the ichor of the beast. It was only now that Fafnir heard the screams of his men in his vox, as they two battled against the horrors of the Iron Warriors ship.

[Lividjoker]

Getting into the more Primarch heavy stages now where I have to use my imagination (even more so) to create events. If the Primarchs dont seem as they do in the HH series well that aint an awful lot I can do about that :unsure:

 

The carnage wrought upon Terra, even from his position in the Stormbird was astounding. As the jet-black Stormbird descended, closely followed by another in battered cobalt blue and gold, Johnson began to believe he had betrayed his father. Of course he didn’t feel he betrayed him the same was as Horus and the others, but he felt as though he had betrayed him for not being on Terra when Horus and his ilk attacked.

The Lion sat silently as he thought over what he could have done to change these events. In Corswain’s eyes something was deeply wrong with his Primarch. Ever since they moved into range of astropathic range of Caliban, they still had yet to receive word from Luther. Corswain, like many others suspected that Horus had destroyed those Dark Angels stationed on the Legion’s homeworld. A slight noise from the Lion snapped Corswain out of his trance; “Lord?” he said tentatively, he was unsure if the Lion had indeed said anything, “Look at it.” The Lion said softly, “Eternity Gate is ruined, so much beauty destroyed. Even my father’s palace didn’t escape the damage.”

 

Corswain knew where this was heading; the Lion had already had a heated argument with Guilliman over the siege and many other things. The Lion blamed the destruction on Dorn. “Dorn should have been able to stop this!” The Lion snapped, not at anyone in particular. Corswain knew better than to try and talk his lord out his view point, after what had happened to Nemiel, many in the Legion had been more careful when speaking in the Lion’s presence. The vox bead hissed in Corswain’s ear.

 

He nodded to himself as the commands came through, “We have a landing permit to land at Eternity Gate herself. Captain Jubal Khan, of the White Scars will be waiting for us and the thirteenth.” The Lion nodded to his equerry, “Let’s see what Dorn’s excuse is for failing our Father.” Johnson said with a bitter snarl.

The pair of Stormbirds shrieked overhead as they began their final approach to the landing platforms, where the White Scars’ greeting party awaited them. The craft landed gracefully in the destroyed and party still burning remains of the Eternity Gate’s own landing platforms. The Dark Angels were the first to exit their craft.

 

A fully armed squad of Dark Angels Astartes marched in unison down the assault ramp and presented an honour guard for their liege lord. Johnson slowly walked down the assault ramp as steam vented from the craft. His massive sword was sheathed at his waist, his hand laid firmly atop its hilt. Johnson’s ceremonial clock dragged behind his heels, the polished black ceramite of his armour was clearer for all to see. At his side was Corswain, who too had his own hand atop his sword. Corswain’s armour was masked by his robes however and could only be seen even only at a glance when he moved. The pair approached the form of Jubal Khan. The White Scar bowed formally to the Primarch, “Why have my brother sent you to great me?” Jubal looked briefly at Johnson before turning his eyes to the cobalt blue Stormbird. Johnson followed his gaze also. Approaching them from it was not an honour guard but three figures. Two of which were Astartes the other was the Primarch Roboute Guilliman.

 

“Glad to see your manners are improving, brother.” The Lion scoffed at the comment at turned to look at Jubal. “My lords of behalf of Lords Dorn and Jaghatai, I welcome you to the Imperial Palace. They bid me inform you of the situation.” Johnson was the first to reply, “Tell us what we already know? Our father is dying and the traitor’s responsible roam free amid the stars!” Johnson didn’t wait for a rebuke and thundered of towards the palace.

Guilliman sighed inwardly, turning to the pair that accompanied him. “Marius, Ventanus be careful around my brother, he’s, edgy at best.” Marius stepped forward, “We’d best catch up to him lord, before he does something foolish.” Guilliman nodded, “Captain Jubal. Make sure you debrief both my brother’s officers and my own.” Jubal nodded as Guilliman trailed after Johnson.

 

The pair of towering eagle and gold decorated mostly ornate, doors were not designed to take such force, but such was the might of a Primarch, and one whose temper was at its limit was even more a force to be reckoned with. The doors slammed open as the Lion thundered into the throne room. Both Dorn and Jaghatai spun round weapons drawn as the doors flung open. Dorn recognized the form of his brother immediately as was less than please about his entrance. “Johnson! How dare you desecrate the throne room like that?”

Dorn protested as the Lion began to pound forward. In that split second, Jaghatai saw what was to come. ”Rogal move! Now!” The White Scars Primarch pushed Dorn out of the way as Johnson’s sword arched down where he had just stood. Swinging his own sword under the Lion’s he stopped the blade from impacting to the decorated marble floor, “What madness drives you to this brother?!” Jaghatai cried out as he fought against Johnson’s blade.

“You both failed father!” Johnson’s reply was a foul snarl,

“You let Horus do this to him! To Terra!” Dorn started to pick himself up as Johnson through Jaghatai off balance. Dorn saw the tip of the blade moving towards him, it would maim him severely. In those last few feet of Johnson’s stride a flash of blue and gold tackled the Dark Angels’ Primarch to the ground, “That’s enough Johnson!” Guilliman beckoned.

“You defend him Guilliman! He should be punished for this!” Dorn was now at Guilliman’s side, “Enough both of you. You both were not here to help! If anything you share blame equally!”

 

The Lion looked as though he was about to try and strike his brother again when from nothingness a vividly green gauntlet grasped his arm. The voice that greeted them all was familiar, a caring and humane voice, and one they had all believed was dead, “My brothers! Always trying to solve their differences with their fists, rather than their words.” The gathering of Primarchs turned to face their new arrival. “Vulkan?” Dorn gasped, “By the Emperor! We thought you dead!” the charcoal coloured features of the Primarch Vulkan broke into a smile, “No I used my death as a deception to save my sons and home. But that is a story for another time.”

 

Dorn and Jaghatai nodded. Jaghatai turned to Guilliman, “So Roboute, you wished to speak to us all?” Guilliman nodded, brushed his hand through his short blond hair, “Aye brothers. But first we must wait for brothers Corax and Russ. In the meantime tell us of it all.” As Jaghatai and Dorn told the tale of the siege, the sacrifices of Noble Sanguinius and the regent Malcador, the Primarch conclave were totally oblivious to events unfolding aboard the Iron Warriors’ ship in orbit, as the 26th company of Imperial Fists battled against the Daemonic allies of Perturabo and deliver the challenge to their Primarch.

[Llagos_Tyrant]

I'm really enjoying this but the text wall is hard to read and looks really chunky.

 

Generally, every time a new character talks, there is a break in the paragraph. So, something like this -

 

“Johnson! How dare you desecrate the throne room like that?” Dorn protested as the Lion began to pound forward. In that split second, Jaghatai saw what was to come. ”Rogal move! Now!” The White Scars Primarch pushed Dorn out of the way as Johnson’s sword arched down where he had just stood. Swinging his own sword under the Lion’s he stopped the blade from impacting to the decorated marble floor, “What madness drives you to this brother?!” Jaghatai cried out as he fought against Johnson’s blade. “You both failed father!” Johnson’s reply was a foul snarl, “You let Horus do this to him! To Terra!”

 

would be written as -

 

“Johnson! How dare you desecrate the throne room like that?” Dorn protested as the Lion began to pound forward. In that split second, Jaghatai saw what was to come.

 

”Rogal move! Now!” The White Scars Primarch pushed Dorn out of the way as Johnson’s sword arched down where he had just stood. Swinging his own sword under the Lion’s he stopped the blade from impacting to the decorated marble floor. “What madness drives you to this brother?!” Jaghatai cried out as he fought against Johnson’s blade.

 

“You both failed father!” Johnson’s reply was a foul snarl, “You let Horus do this to him! To Terra!”

 

It is much easier to read :)

 

EDIT :

 

I haven't read many HH books so the Primarchs seem fine to me, though that doesn't mean too much.

[Olis]

I enjoyed reading what's here so far, although the current format (as pointed out by Grim) can make it unneccessarily stodgy to read at times. A reformat would do wonders, I think.

 

One thing I noticed, especially in the second post (the part involving Sanguinius), was the excessive repetition of names - Sangy being the worst offender, having been mentioned nearly fifty times in that particular post (Sigismund also stands out somewhat in this too, in post one and two). I suggest mixing things up a bit, using descriptions and alternative monikers to avoid this problem. It breaks the monotony of hearing the same name again and again and allows the reader to focus less on the character's name and more on the story itself.

 

I'd also like to advise a serious going over with a fine tooth comb - there seems to be a few typos and grammatical errors (over the work as a whole), something that a thorough proof-read could sort out. If you can find someone else to do it, that'll help no end, as proof-reading your own work requires an inordinate amount of vigilance. They won't be as personally attached to the work in question and will find it easier to notice mistakes that you might miss on your own.

 

I hope I don't sound like I'm ragging on you, brother. I just wanted to point out some things I found that I thought needed attention. :)

[Lividjoker]

Thanks for the CC's.

 

@Grim. Thanks for that, having been reading it in my Word Doc it appears more spaced out that it does on here. I'll go back and edit the earlier posts and future ones as such.

 

@Olisredan. I can see your point about the names. I'll see what magic I can work with that and make changes as such. As for the proof-reading I do try my best, many times I've gone through my work and thought 'yeah its good' only to post it up or send it to a friend to see a missed mistake etc. Sometimes these things areant seen at first or second glances.

[Llagos_Tyrant]

@Olisredan. I can see your point about the names. I'll see what magic I can work with that and make changes as such. As for the proof-reading I do try my best, many times I've gone through my work and thought 'yeah its good' only to post it up or send it to a friend to see a missed mistake etc. Sometimes these things areant seen at first or second glances.

 

I find this happens to me a lot and from what I can gather, it's just because we wrote it, so we know, so we skim over mistakes. I find that reading out loud can really help to catch mistakes and to improve the flow of a piece of writing because you hear it, and it takes longer.