++The Angels Descendant++

[christhenoun]

Hi all, so my previous chapter was stagnating and I was really struggling to develop the background to them. (If a moderator could remove that post, it would be appreciated)

 

Without further ado, I introduce you to... The Angels Descendant. [As usual, C&C is very welcome]

 

A red sun rose over the dry and barren horizon. The sky split
red and orange with atmospheric gases and ozone tore a stark contrast between
the dust and clay of the ground. Sun baked days and tundra like nights had
radically transformed the planet that had once been home to billions of people.
It had started with the air becoming sharp, with every breathe it felt like a
knife was being forced down your throat, it was cold and metallic tasting.
Eventually people had taken to wearing masks filled with sweet aromas assuming
it was something poisonous the god’s had filled the air with. Fearing their
wrath, the people had offered sacrifices, to start with crops were burned, it
wasn’t long until animals were being slaughtered on massive pyres. After a few
months and thousands of livestock and cattle, it became evident that either gods
had not been appeased or they didn’t exist. The population was split down the
two, one half turned to greater heights of blood lust and began offering human
sacrifices, and the other rejected the existence of the gods.

 

 

As the years went by, the population was radically
decreased. Situations seemed to get worse, the sky was blotted out by heavy
dark clouds shrouding the suns and stars. There was no light to be found
anywhere, and then the dreams started. Initially it was just the elders, but
before long young boys and middle aged men alike were reporting of having had
dreams of visceral and bloody nature. Murder broke out and bodies were left
rotting on the roads. Civilisation broke down and things that once were, became
no longer. The human population has devolved to a feral and brutal state where the
strong ruled and the weak were killed.

 

A rumour began to circulate, initially just across the
plains nation. Then the mountain people took a hold of it until eventually
everyone on the planet had heard about it. A meteor had fallen from the skies
and embedded itself in the depths of the marshlands. People flocked there believing
it was finally a sign from the gods. Finally their punishment was at an end,
finally their sins had been atoned. The zealots flocked to the ‘shrine’ and
continued to offer sacrifices, initially it seemed to work. The clouds that had
enveloped the skies began to break and weak light began to fall through and
illuminate small areas. Seeing this as a further sign, the zealots began to
build further shrines in these locations. Blood continued to flow until
eventually there were only a few thousand people left. Feudal tribes formed as
people grouped together for security, weapons such as guns and explosives had
long since ran out, fuel and black powder was a greatly sought after commodity.
Simple swords and spears were the common weapon of choice and a form of
resistance grew against the zealots.

 

Decades following the forming of the militias, an army was

mustered between the tribes and they sought to cleanse the marshes of the
zealots. Initially the militias had met with great success, however, reports of
creatures fighting alongside the zealots were filling the men with fear.
Monsters made of blood and fury would rampage and slaughter many men before
eventually they could either be cut down, or they would simply disappear in
smoke. It was during one of the largest of these engagements that the militias
were being hard pressed. Whilst they outnumbered the zealots, they were afraid
and lacked the stomach to continue the fight. The creatures had taken to many
brothers and sons and now they were looking set to destroy the remnants of the
militia’s army. Zealots were throwing themselves against the spears of the
enemy, as they died things would erupt from their chests grab those that had
killed them, dragging them into a dark abyssal rift in the air. As the final
motions of the battle were being played out, the commander of the Militia’s
army sighted an object falling from the skies. He remarked it looking like an
angel sent from above. Those around him looked up and saw black figures falling
through the holes in the clouds. It looked as if the sky itself was falling. Filled
with mixed senses of fear and hope, the militia fought harder in the hope that
reinforcements had finally come to their aid from somewhere. Steeling themselves
against their worst nightmares, they pressed on into the enemy ranks, swords
rising and falling as they made their way to one of the objects which had
landed nearest. As they drew closer, they were made aware of the smell of
cordite, the sound of loud barks and the crump of explosions. The smell of
blood filled the air and all around there were bodies of dead zealots. The
militia continued deeper towards the sound of bloodshed. Eventually they could
see giants striding through the ranks of the nightmarish creatures where they
walked, death followed. These were mighty warriors and the men remembered the
exclamation of their commander that the falling figured had resembled the
mythic Angels. With the aid of these giants, the militias were victorious and
the swamp lands were eventually cleansed of the cancer like zealot people. The shrines
were toppled and destroyed beyond repair, at the end of the campaign in the
swamps, the Commander of the militia’s armies met with one of the giants. Upon
looking at them, words failed and all that he could verbalise was a simple
question. “Are you Angels?” a wry spread on the face of giant. He was truly massive,
standing a good extra half height above any warrior of the militia’s armies,
they towered over anyone near. The smile turned into a chuckle and the giant
replied “We are the Angels Descendant and your world of Dacia in under our watch now.”.

 

 

http://i719.photobucket.com/albums/ww196/giberz09/sm1_zps90c03b7f.jpg

 

The room was dark. Only a pale green light from the
cogitator screen illuminated the desk, paper and Trans-files littered the table
and an amasac decanter stood in a corner with a glass. An ash tray doubled up as
a paper weight sat on a pile of paper with the smoke rising from a cigar sat in
it. A silhouette sat in the chair behind the desk, he was all but completely
hidden. The green light shone off his teeth and eyes, giving of an unnerving
and intimidating image.

 

Jaques stumbled into the room clutching a data slate. “My
Lord Inquisitor, I have compiled the information you requested on the ‘Angels
Descendant’. It isn’t much, but it’s all I could find in the given time”.
Jaques was nervous, a cool bead of sweat dripped down his back and his hands
were clammy, for some reason, Inquistor Draxon always had this effect on him. “Begin”
came the response from behind the desk. The cigar was now being held between a
green tinted set of teeth. Smoke curled up and twisted around Draxon’s face
before it dispersed.

 

“My Lord, The ‘Angels Descendent ‘ are a chapter of Adeptus
Astartes who find home in the Segmentum Obscuras on the planet of Dacia. They
were born during the eighteenth founding, although not much is known about this
process due to an unnatural amount of administration errors.”

 

“Hold…” Draxon’s voice cut through the drawl of Jaques his
voice dripped with authority. “Are you telling me that these Astartes have been
serving the Imperium for this long, and this is the first time the Inquisition
has heard about their problematic founding?”…. Draxon looked pensive for a
moment, his eyes glazed as he was lost in his own thoughts for a moment. He
took a long swig of liquor from his glass before setting it down precisely. “Continue”
he said after a moment.  

 

Jacques looked flustered by the interruption and he returned
to his data slate, trying to find his place. “They’re parent chapter is
unknown, amongst the myriad errors with the administration, it appears that
geneseed from both the Imperial Fists and the Raven Guard. Both gene seeds are
used by the Chapter, but a rigorous screening and recruitment process takes
place to ensure that that the geneseed used is of maximum efficiency.

 

The fighting style is an interesting one. It appears that
both the Imperial Fists and the Raven Guards parent traits are present in the
chapter. Following extensive observation of combat recordings battle reports,
it would appear that on landing in a theatre of war, the Angels Descendant
split into two separate forces. One forms a semi mobile fire base whilst the
other undertakes a covert process of infiltration and subterfuge. The second
element is formed of assault and close support units while the first is more
heavily armed units and vehicles. These two elements work in tandem as the
covert assault element works to push the enemy towards the heavy guns of the
fire base, once they are caught in the cross fire, nothing can withstand their
volleys. This method has seen great effectiveness in many campaigns, liberating
worlds from the archenemy and the green menace.

 

My Lord, here ends my report.” Jacques lowered his data
slate and looked at Draxon. He was desperate for some sense of approval, but
none would come. “Dismissed” came the response from over the desk. By now,
Inquisitor Draxon had his boots rested on the edge of the table and his cigar
was almost burned to embers. Jacques turned a swiftly walked out the room
leaving the Lord Inquisitor Draxon to his musings.

 

[Icewolf]

With the aid of these giants, the militias were victorious andthe swamp lands were eventually cleansed of the cancer like zealot people. The shrineswere toppled and destroyed beyond repair, at the end of the campaign in theswamps, the Commander of the militia’s armies met with one of the giants. Uponlooking at them, words failed and all that he could verbalise was a simplequestion. “Are you Angels?” a wry spread on the face of giant. He was truly massive,standing a good extra half height above any warrior of the militia’s armies,they towered over anyone near. The smile turned into a chuckle and the giantreplied “We are the Angels Descendant”.

[/i]

I liked the story, doesn't say too much about your marines though, maybe a description of the armour's colours etc from the militiaman point of view on the marines appearance.

 

The only other thing I can think of is with how the last section is written to me implies that the campaign occurred without any communication between the marines and the militia, this could just be how I am interpreting it, asI view a campaign being a long series of battles but if by campaign in this you meant a final battle which destroyed the zealots then you could either change campaign to battle or swap the two sections around so the militiaman asks if they are angels first and then you could say with the aid of the angels that victory was achieved.

 

 

Hope that is clear.

 

Icewolf

[christhenoun]

Please remove this post.

 

[Messor]

You want the Angels of Olympia thread removed?

[christhenoun]

Yes please! I couldn't work out how to do it independantly...

[Messor]

Done.

[christhenoun]

Top page is updated. I quite enjoyed writing the first mini story, so I thought I'd see if I could do the main fluff in it too...

 

C&C is always wanted and welcome!

[christhenoun]

Another update. I figured I'm going to do the full fluff in this style...

Does anyone want to see some miniatures I've put together too?

 

    The Intrepid Endeavour was a grand ship. She had seen a great many centuries of warfare
and, she had racked up plenty of kills herself. However, sheer ferocity and fire power wasn’t the Intrepid Endeavour’s
strongest feature. Her speed and agility was what made her the ruthless killer
that she was. Able to outrun and outmanoeuvre most other ships of her build,
she was like a sea predator slipping between the waters hunting for her prey.
At the helm of this great ship was Captain Master Lokos. A Terran born man of
two hundred years, he had captained the Intrepid
Endeavour for one and a half of those. Under his stern leadership, the ship
and her crew and found a place serving Lord Inquisitor Draxon. Word had reached
Lokos of a new destination. Draxon had ordered a change of course following a
series of reports from his acolytes. The order had gone through the chain and
the Intrepid Endeavour had begun to
turn. Her ancient hull creaking as the stresses and strains pulled her about.
The ship was getting ready to make a warp jump, they were heading for the
Segmentum Obscuras.

 

Inquisitor Draxon sat forwards, poring over his desk. Rubbing
his temples he returned to his file. Somehow this just wasn’t adding up. The
administratum were renowned throughout the Inquisition for being awful.
Glitches and mistakes were common place in almost all procedures. But the
founding of a Chapter was overseen by the High Lords of Terra themselves. With
the amount of pressure that would have been breathing down the administratum’
neck it should have been almost impossible for a mistake of this scale to have
been made. A knocking on the steel door interrupted Draxon’s thoughts. “Enter”
he called as he sat back in his chair and refilled his glass with more amasec.
The door hissed open and a tall man stood there. He was dressed in Carapace
armour and had a las pistol strapped to his leg. Tores had always been a big
man, as a kid he had been bullied for being freakishly tall, he had found his
place in Draxon’s retinue. Here he had a purpose, here he was home. “Sir, I
have the report on the Angels’s Descendant’s commanders, shall I begin?” Draxon
took a swig of his drink and grimaced, the smoky taste burned a little as he
swallowed, and it was delicious. He nodded as he lifted his boot heels to rest
on his desk. Tores stood to attention with hands locked behind his back. “Sir,
I have ordered these in order of greatest potential interest to you. I will
begin with one known as ‘The Bear’. Captain Crastus Stayne of the Third Battle
Company received his nick name following an engagement on Tarsk. It was a formerly
Imperial world which had fallen to the taint of Chaos. By the time the Angels
Descendant had reached it, warp storms writhed around the world and a rift
between the empyrean and real space had opened. Deamons of the warp were
pouring in. The Angels prepared to drop immediately and they launched a purge
against anything that moved on Tarsk. After a week of lightning engagements and
skirmishes with high casualties on either side, Stayne ambushed a group of
heretical cultists. They slaughtered the humans, but as they died a huge beast
climbed out of the corpse of one of the cultists. Reports state that Crastus
charged the beast with his Powerfist. The beast reacted and pinned him to the
ground. Stayne’s fire team reacted and began pouring fire into the beast to
seemingly no effect. It was at this point that the beast plunged its hand deep into
Stayne’s chest. Bravo team were eventually able to bring their Heavy Bolter to bear
against the beast. As they continued to pour fire into the beast, it turned and
with what could only be described a laugh, it disappeared in a wisp of smoke.
Crastus was retrieved by his fire team and given up to the Chapters
Apothecarion and the Angels Descendant declared the planet of Tarsk beyond
redemption and ordered planet killer shells to be fire at the world. Months
later in the Apothocary, Crastus Stayne awoke. The Chapter’s surgeons had done
an incredible work and Stayne was deemed physically fit to return to duty.
However due to the means of injury, Crastus had to undergo testing by the
Librarius to ensure he hadn’t been tainted by his touch with the warp beast. He
passed every test with flying colours. Upon returning to duty, Crastus showed
increased levels of brutality and had even been reported to roar at his foes.
It is to this end that he has since become known as ‘The Bear’ and he has
adopted the emblem of a Bear’s foot print as his personal heraldry.”

Inquisitor Draxon held up his hand to pause Tores. “You are

right, that is very interesting. If this report is to be believed, this ‘Captain
Stayne’ could still harbour some form of warp taint. That is the only explanation
to his recent changes, not to mention the alleged response of the beast that so
crippled the Captain. I need to question this man myself. Continue Tores”