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A Tale of Twenty Writers


Pavement Artist

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I would be willing to show the Angels of Caliban.

 

My 'Prologue' I hope it's.. okay. English isn't my native language after all.

 

Prologue: Angels of Death

 

Master Athuris shook his head as he glanced around the inside of the fortress they had fought so hard to take, he had administered the rites to five of his brothers and it pained him incredibly to see, to know that they had fallen simply for taking an empty fortress, the 'warriors' they had faced within had been elaborate traps set up, activated by movement the heavy weapons of the fortress had fired upon them. More ammunition and lives spent, all for nothing. The Dark Angel shook his head again, “There must be some trace of them here”, he said to the darkness before he marched towards his second in command, another Astartes, Terran born, Brother Zazuel caught his eye, “More traps, more trickery, I'm beginning to wonder if we're hunting ghosts in the black of night”, he growled out, suddenly both their voxes chimed, “Master, please come, we found.. something in the depths”, the voice was of one of the Yarian Grenadiers, a human element that had been part of their exploratory fleet, back when it had been then.

 

As they descended into the depths of the fortress a sense of foreboding came over the Dark Angel, below they were greeted by a group of soldiers, they seemed ill at ease, “It's in there”, he pointed towards a pair of copper double doors, Athuris pushed them open as if they weighed nothing, when he entered his eyes went wide, ahead in the chamber was a Dark Angel, brutalized, his corpse had been hung from chains. His armour crudely discarded into pieces around the dais he hung above, his body had been opened up, some sort of ritual kill. “Squads.. report in”, Athuris voxed as Zazuel joined him, “Emperor's Blood”, he hissed out, the vox however hissed back interference and the doors suddenly slammed shut.

 

A crude chuckle echoed through the chamber as the glow-lights blinked out, “Back to back”, Athuris ordered quickly, both knights taking a firm grip on their blades, backs to each-other, “Are you scared Brothers?”, the leering voice asked, there was a rip and a tear, then a chuckle. “Catch”, it said, something smashed into Zazuel's chest-plate and he growled, the head of the Dark Angel stared at him, broken-faced, “Face us then you bastard!”, he echoed out, he got his wish. From the darkness a pair of blood-red eyes lit up, then more. “Calm your humours brother, stay here”, around them a thousand blood-red eyes stared, hungrily at the two Astartes, Athuris calmed his mind, breathing deeply, from his back he suddenly felt Zazuel step away, “No!”, he shouted, but the warning was too late.

 

The butt-end of a spear smashed into his knee, pushing Athuris down, in the dark he heard Zazuel scream, “One Angel plucked.. one more to go... ready to die?”, the voice asked Athuris who held his blade ready, “Come and claim my life..”, he hissed back, the eyes had faded, leaving only the impenetrable darkness, a moment of noise was all Athuris needed as he spun his blade against the shaft of the spear, the weapon ruined his chest-plate carving a deep groove through it, but Athuris was no novice and jumped the spear up before rushing his sword deep into the chest, the powerfull field surrounding it carving through blood, meat and bone. With a grunt of effort Athuris tore it right, claiming both hearts, like a bulb relighting, the room became illuminated again. In the distance Zazuel lay, his sword still clutched, but utterly dead, before his feet lay the corpse of the Night Lord. His helm a twisted parody of the heraldic nature of his own, he pulled the doors open and stared at the new corpses, all twenty soldiers killed soundlessly. He glanced over his shoulder and blinked, the Night Lord was missing. In the dark of the chamber a cruel chuckle sounded.

Like 1000Heathens and Ferrus, I'm not able to proceed. I've racked my brains and racked 'em some more and I can't think of anything good. It doesn't help that my shifts at work are all over the place at the moment :P Doesn't leave a lot of room to be able to write much :P

 

Sorry ;)

Life has decided to kick me in the nuts, I'm still working on it but its going slow due to work, the doc getting corrupted and me having to start over and a family member's wedding soon. So I might over run the due date by a bit but it will be done.
DAT; you still in?

Yes but I'm struggling to even begin this piece. I'm fairly sure once I start I'll be fine but my brain is not cooperating :)

Thats why I'm glad my Legion was covered in Betrayal, it gave me a few new ideas and I am re-typing what I had lost (luckly it was only what I had in my note book).

Is anyone else doing a Dramatis Personae, i.e. laying down who's who?

 

Yup. It was one of the first things I did (subject to minor changes, of course). :P

Good, glad I'm not the only one. The first thing I did was create (read: make up) loads of characters that I wanted to include. Which reminds me, I need to add a few others to it.

 

Btw, typing with both hands and eating an icecream is really difficult... and cold.

I am new here but I have written a few short stories on other sites.

 

Is there any Legions left? I saw a few people pull out and since I have some free time I figured I should try it out :)

 

I'll take whatever Legion(s) aren't being used, unless someone else wants to write the story?

 

TGC.

I'm still in, too. What I had planned would end up being far longer than the guidelines. . . . so some trimming is in order before I get beyond Chapter One. In fact, I think Chapter One has to go out the window for a new Chapter One. :rolleyes:
I'm still in, too. What I had planned would end up being far longer than the guidelines. . . . so some trimming is in order before I get beyond Chapter One. In fact, I think Chapter One has to go out the window for a new Chapter One. :)

I know what you mean, with the release of Betrayal I've completely re-done and added to my first chapter. Fun.

Here is the rough draft of the opening.

 

Hope you enjoy.

 

Clash of Titans:

The hull of the Cruiser shook under the enormous pressure of re-entering real space. The metal structure of the ship, built to withstand weapons capable of glassing planets, groaned and creaked. The ship’s crew drew a collective breath, hoping that the ship would be able to hold its own against the pressure. The ship’s engines, pushed to maximum power, could be heard roaring through the hallways and embarkation decks.

Curze, as ever, was clad head to foot in the black and blue artificer armour of his Legion. His armour was adorned with scenes of death and destruction, all wrought in the name of the Imperium, the black trimmings on his shoulder pads and gauntlets causing the engravings to stand out.

Before him stood the full might of the Night Lords legion. Twenty thousand of the Imperium’s toughest soldiers, the Night Lords had sent their tendrils deep into the heart of the Ultramarines chapter. They were always compared to their brother legion, and they were always removed in favor of Guilleman’s legion. Not any longer.

Beside Curze stood the Talon, ten of his staunchest officers, all clad in the same regalia as Curze himself. Behind them stood the Terminator squadrons of each company, a hundred giants wearing impenetrable armour, but even they were dwarfed by the imposing figure of the Primarch.

‘My Brothers, today is where we make history. We have shown time and again that we are without peer,’ His men roared in approval and began chanting “Night Lord”, his title before his ascension to power ‘Quiet my brothers.’ The sound died away almost immediately. His discipline methods were extremely effective. ‘Too long have we bled for an Empire and protected it, and what thanks do we get? We become the boogie man used to frighten little children into good behavior. We have sweat, bled and died. Now the time has come to accept our role and become the boogie man. We are the harbingers of death, and our name shall be feared across the galaxy! Today, my brothers, we march to war.’

His men screamed their approval, roaring at the top of their lungs. The soldiers were calling for blood, their lust for war overwhelming their sense of fraternity with the other legions.

‘My warriors, tomorrow we depart for the Eastern Fringe. The Ultramarines shall feel our claws. Prepare yourselves, for we are going to make history. All officers, report to the war council. We shall devise our strikes immediately.’ The men broke ranks and marched to the barracks, to train presumably. After all, what use was a sword with a dull edge?

Curze turned on his heel and walked to the council chambers, followed by his retinue of officers and terminators, their heavy footfalls echoing off the metal floors making them seem like they numbered in the thousands. The hallways were dimly lit, but that was no problem for the Night Lords. Their home planet was ever covered in darkness and they had been forced to adapt. Their sight was much stronger than that of other Astartes, as far ahead of their brother-marines as a Space Marine was ahead of a normal human.

Approaching the huge doors, Curze lifted an armoured gauntlet and pushed chunk of metal open. It swung open easily; little effort was involved in swinging the heavy doors.

Entering the room, it was evident that it belonged to the Night Lords. A large steel throne sat at the head of a large holo-desk, depictions of destruction, death and war littered the high walls. Fear cuts deeper than swords, and fear was the greatest weapon the Night Lords had in their arsenal. Other legions had their own specialties; the World Eaters had their berserker blood lusts; The Ultramarines were the most proficient and largest legion, their high recruitment and low casualty rates lead to them outgrowing their brother legions; The Space Wolves, their ice world of Fenris, could hunt their quarry across a planet. Their cold ruthlessness in stark contrast to the hate fuelled mentality of the World Eaters; The Salamanders, the smallest of the legions, boasted more firepower per marine than the other legions; The Imperial Fists and the Iron Hands, masters of siege and defense sat behind massive fortresses. Each bastion carrying enough fire power to flatten a planet; The Dark Angels were the only peers of the Night Lords in stealth and surveillance but even they couldn’t stand up to the fear tactic of the Night Lords.

He drew his attention from the walls and looked on his assembly. Twenty officers, captains all, stood around the large holo-desk. A projection of a planet hovered and fizzed above the desk.

‘My captains, you all know why I called you here,’ Curze beckoned his officers forward, sitting down on the steel throne in the center of the room He lifted a gauntlet covered hand and placed it on the pommel of the sword resting across his lap. ‘We have been… commanded,’ Curze spat the word from his lips with disgust. ‘We are to follow in the second wave of the strike against Horus’ legions on Isstvan V,’ a smug, knowing smile spread across the Primarch’s features. ‘We are to launch a simultaneous strike on the traitor’s position,’ his gaze scanned the assembly, stopping on Halasker. ‘Captain Halasker, you are to take a portion of our strength and seize Ardenia to throw off the Ultramarines. Guilliman can not be allowed to lead his Legion against us.’

‘Yes, my lord. What are our objectives?’ The 3rd Company Captain bowed his head, the heavy ceramite helmet clinking off his breastplate sending an echo across the room.

‘You are to lead a small strike against the Imperial Army forces on the planet. Keep the Ultramarines distracted, if they attack us before we have finished our goal of wiping out the “traitors”,’ once again a smile spread across the Primarch’s face. ‘Then the consequences will have severe repercussions on our Legion.’

‘As you say, my lord,’ Halasker lifted his head, looking around at the other officers. ‘When do we depart?’

‘Immediately, you shall take the 3rd Company. You are to be joined by Captain Zhufor of the World Eaters. You may leave us now.’ The Primarch dismissed him with a wave of his armoured fist.

Halasker turned on his heel and marched out, the crowd moving out of his way. All of them were standing in groups, discussing the coming battle. Rumor had it that the Loyalist legions; the Salamanders, Raven Guard and a strike force of the Iron Hands had launched an assault against the traitor legions and were advancing through the defensive lines. I shall not be made a fool of; I will destroy the Ultramarines and conquer the system in the name of the Night Haunter.

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