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Flint13

By Flint13
in + HERETIC ASTARTES +

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Kol Saresk Venerable Brother

Kol Saresk

Posted
Posted (edited)

 

 

 

Don't worry lass, in 10,000 years you all end up with us, or dead. So tell me, do you fear death?

Eh, us young-uns don't think that far ahead. We've got a legion to run, technology to still produce, Terras to conquer. No time to fear death, when we're the scariest thing in the galaxy :wink:

 

Gotta go conquer Terra while the conquering's good!

#NLOLO

 

I am Death! I am Despair! I. Am. Destruction!

 

;) Edited by Kol_Saresk
Corsovitt Battle-Brother

Corsovitt

Posted
Posted (edited)

Transmission 14 received ‘68

 

Sector King, Zulu, King

Durega System


++Transmission Begins++

 


++Random Static++

 

...few mortals realise that their life, the very essence of their character, their capabilities and their audacities are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings, we seek to undermine that belief, to show them how truly alone they are, they shall know fear, they shall know terror and when they truly understand the terrible truth of who they are they shall welcome our blades...


++Random Static++


This is how our rebellion fails; this is how our legion fails on Terra and this is how I lose my faith even before losing my father on
Tsgualsa...


++Random Static++


So close and yet so far...

 


The impossible has happened, the Warmaster Horus is dead and the Loyalists defending the Imperial Palace on Terra have rallied. The fear of failure which threatened to overwhelm them, only short hours before has been overcome; and for the first time in this campaign it is we who know fear.

 

The Investiary and Inner Gardens burn, flames seemingly engulf everything; the enhanced visual sensors built into my helmet, registers multiple heat bloom distortions rendering my prey-sight next to useless. The broken bodies of astartes; both loyalist and rebel cover the ground, dust and ash thrown up by the orbital bombardment, fifty five days of siege and the collapse of nearby buildings, falls like flakes coating every surface rendering the differing colour schemes of the legions almost indistinguishable and blotting out the light of the Terran sun, bringing an unnatural twilight across the battlefield.

The Companies of the Sons of Horus fighting to the right flank of my century of the 106th company are clearly shaken by the loss of their gene-father and have lost their usual coherency and tactical fluidity. Once I considered them the best of our brethren; the height of martial perfection, even more so than the Emperors Children, but with the declaration of the Warmasters death they are shocked almost into impotence. Their tactics are wildly sporadic and undisciplined; some squads throw themselves into the fray with wild abandon; sacrificing themselves to the gun lines of the resurgent loyalists like Angron's Berserkers. Other squads huddle in the grip of uncertainty; allowing the legionnaires of the Blood Angels, Imperial Fists and White Scars to close and overwhelm them.

We of the Eighth Legion know when to cut our losses and flee for our lives and flee we do, our comm net is awash with the commands of the First Captain Sevatar, relayed down through the legions Praetors and Centurions ordering a tactical withdrawal to our landing zones and to await evacuation by Stormbird.

 


Even as we retreat, we are aware that more loyalists; the relatively untouched legions of Russ, El’Johnson and Guilliman have arrived in system and that the window for escape is rapidly diminishing. The order is given by the first captain and the mortally wounded are ruthlessly despatched and their gene seed recovered. Heavy equipment and vehicles are abandoned; melta-bombs are expended on these legion assets to prevent their use to our former brothers of the loyalist legions.


As the realisation of the impending annihilation of our legion becomes apparent, the retreat becomes a rout. For the first time in this war it is we the hunters who are hunted, we Night Lords are no longer the predators we are the prey to be stalked by the furious loyalist astartes.

 

++Random Static++

 

Squads of Dorn’s Yellow Clad sons hound my own century as the fight continues through the tight corridors and shattered rubble strewn courtyards of the outer palace; seeking a route out through the fractured curtain wall. The company Praetor Sepp Demir and his command squad are torn down in a frenzy of bolt rounds and bayonets; as the Imperial Fists revenge themselves on us in our flight.


As the most senior centurion company command now falls to me. I switch frequencies to the company vox net which resounds with the desperate questions and death cries of many of my company brothers. Both Fourth and Eighth claws of my own century become lost in the rout and are caught in an abandoned vestibule by a mixture of Imperial Fists and Sisters of Silence and butchered to a man,the screams of the fallen are both ironic and unsettling given our propensity for that same tactic.

 

++Random Static++

 

 

Our company becomes mingled with fleeing astartes from several other legions and army auxilia loyal to the now fallen Warmaster, the army units slow our withdrawal in their panic. With time running out I give a curt but necessary order over the vox, I leap forward and punch my lightning claws into the ranks of the nearest mass of struggling soldiery as the brothers around me also lash out with chainsword and other close combat weapons, ammunition is to be conserved.

 


We begin to slaughter our way through the supporting army auxilia; Brother Sergeant Kirmizi Yagmur and his Terror Squad throw themselves into the fray with a relish, their chain glaives and gladii turn the falling ash red. it is for this reason that his squad will be renamed the Scarlet Rain.


Honoured Shi Gjaku, once the company vexillum until his internment in a dreadnought sarcophagus after being mortally wounded at Urgall, runs amok through the mob of fleeing soldiery those he doesn’t crush under his armoured bulk he immolates with the built in twin flamers affixed to the dreadnought sized close combat weapons he wields.

 

++Random Static++

Edited by Corsovitt
Corsovitt Battle-Brother

Corsovitt

Posted
Posted (edited)

Good Evening Brothers and Sisters


Thank you for the positive posts so far, its nice to see that my boredom at work has been useful in allowing me to get some of my background fluff written out. Another boring day at work so spent about four hours whilst on hold to insurers (I truly know the meaning of horror) to change and expand on what I wrote yesterday (I've read about fusion reactors, names for medieval armour pieces, tried to work out terminal velocity for a 6 megaton object and spent hours looking through online thesaurus') I'm in the middle of a change of job and moving home but I do plan on dusting off the 106th company (Once upon the 1990's it was the 13th Grand Company) and after a lot of inspiration from the contributors to this topic plan to begin a WIP page for my own humble skills in updating (My current Chaos Lord is based upon the very static abaddon figure), painting and converting.


Until coming onto this site last week I hadn't written in about three and a half years (funnily enough when I began working in motor insurance) and haven't looked at my night lords or played 40k since the end of my three year career as a GW redshirt in 2003.


So in a very Non Night Lord, Non Stabby moment I'd like to say thanks to you all for inspiring me.


Okay time to put away the tissues and grab your blades as Sister Flint would say:


Its Stabby Time


P.S more fluff incoming in the next day or so.

Edited by Corsovitt
Flint13 Venerable Brother

Flint13

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  • Author
Posted

Pfft... who needs blades. Have you seen my mani? Razors got nuthin' on me :wink:

 

But, in a serious light however, this is *exactly* the reason Brother Heinrich and I wanted to get these community Nightlord threads started. Glad we could get you back into the fold, Corso

Kol Saresk Venerable Brother

Kol Saresk

Posted
Posted

Eh, why the heck not. I've been trying to write something out, but I can't ever seem to move forward. Here's what I have.

 

 

 

He had to keep his finger from twitching. Stillness was the goal. But the Hunt... The Hunt sang in his veins. The feel of hot blood, flesh being cut with blade and even the bucking of a roaring bolter. The Song was an irresistible urge. His armor began to cycle up from stand-by to administer combat stimms as it registered an increased heartbeat.

 

No! He had to focus. If he failed, it'd be the Headsman's axe. Control was needed. At least, it was needed for now.

 

Kal Thal'to focused on the sounds around him, allowing his hearts to calm. The annoying buzz of insects and the chirping of avian creatures moved their way through the trees and the moss that grew between their branches. He could even hear a small rodent squealing in excitement as it found food. Slowly, his armor began to cycle back down, leaving only the audio sensors and minimal life support functional.

 

He listened to the small stream behind him. He knew its features. It was twenty meters away, downhill at q six percent decline. Shallow, less than a meter deep. It's water was clear but the bedding was muddy, filled with various plants, and yet surprisingly solid to stand upon. It flowed gently but quickly. Enough to create background noise, but not enough to hide something moving through it.

 

Like the implacable steps that approached now. They stomped forward, not giving an inch to the insistent and negligible push of running water. There was now need for stealth as these iron treads spoke of dominance. Sal permitted himself a small smile.

 

It wasn't long before the trap was sprung and the scrambler mines went off.

 

A single blink-click began to recycle his power systems from passive to active. His limbs screamed their freedom as he circled the tree. Targeting sensors were still down, time for the old fashioned way. Bolter came to shoulder. Eye lense sighted down the iron sights at his first target, who was still reeling from the electrical discharge of the explosives. Finger squeezed trigger.

 

One-two-three. One-two-three. Bolts impacted armor and exploded. Ceramite shards and blood flew.

 

One-two-three. One-two-three. A leg came off at the hip. Oil gushed out.

 

One-two-three. One-two-three. The target fell, head missing.

 

The sights moved, searching for a new target. They found one.

 

A shot to the shoulder knocked him off balance.

 

Two shots blew out his knee as he back stepped.

 

Another two punched through the eye slit, and tearing out the back of his helmet in a shower of gore.

 

+CEASE FIRE+ The order rang out across the vox, cutting through the sounds of bolter fire and war cries.

 

+I SAID, CEASE FIRE!+ Kal heard again as a few, random shots rang out across the newfound silence.

Corsovitt Battle-Brother

Corsovitt

Posted
Posted

Greetings Brothers and Sisters of the Midnight Clad


 


May I begin by just saying I'm loving your story Kol, I want to find out what happens next (no pressure or anything) and I know the pain of being unable to move forward with a short story, I've still got a not exactly  40k sci fi story  (when I say not exactly i have been considering rewording it as is filled with enough bitterness to fit a night lord) which I have been working on since 2001 (when I say working on, I mean once every few years I remember where it is and spend two frustrating hours trying to expand upon it).


 


Well today I had a similar problem I have failed to move forward any further with the short story (although I have about 12 extra paragraphs there are massive gaps which need to be written) Instead I went off on a tangent and tried to write an article from the point of view of a remembrancer embedded with the 106th before the destruction of Nostramo and then I ran right into another brick wall (coincidently I got through to an UK Insurance company's call centre in India and that also led to a brick wall) Hopefully should be able to post some of the disjointed paragraphs and see what people think.


 


Thats all for now.


Fracta Est Silentium


Flint13 Venerable Brother

Flint13

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  • Author
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That is one thing that I'm really curious about. Were there remembrancers in the 8th? I remember a few of the legions regarding them suspiciously, and some outright refusing to have them. Nothing particular to us though.

Brother Heinrich Veteran

Brother Heinrich

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Posted (edited)

I wouldn't think there's anything to glorify in the methods we employ. Just saying. We're basically wet-work specialists for the Imperium.

Edited by Brother Heinrich
Wicced Venerable Brother

Wicced

Posted
Posted (edited)

That is one thing that I'm really curious about. Were there remembrancers in the 8th? I remember a few of the legions regarding them suspiciously, and some outright refusing to have them. Nothing particular to us though.

 

wait, i heard our primarch talk about these guys a while ago! ...now, what was it he said?...yes, right, he asked if we could get any more of these fancy talking playthings:wink.:

Edited by Wicced
Excessus Venerable Brother

Excessus

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Posted

Always do! Keep this business coming. Since A D-B is all in love with the Black Legion now, I've gotta get a Nightlord fiction fix from someplace :happy.:

Well, I for one am happy for ADB and his man-crush! Go go loverboy, release those books!

Forté Venerable Brother

Forté

Posted
Posted

 

 

Always do! Keep this business coming. Since A D-B is all in love with the Black Legion now, I've gotta get a Nightlord fiction fix from someplace :happy.:

Well, I for one am happy for ADB and his man-crush! Go go loverboy, release those books!

Funny that he was working on HH Blood Angels. Though he's currntly trying to get black armour right.

Kol Saresk Venerable Brother

Kol Saresk

Posted
Posted
Yeah, I kind of feel sorry for A D-B. There are certain armies he just can't create for fear of some part of the fandom screaming favoritism even though everyone he writes takes as much of a beating as they give out. If not more so.
Flint13 Venerable Brother

Flint13

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  • Author
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I feel like pretty much the only thing he didn't get into was killing off space wolves. I remember him blogging about that, how the fandom would eventually tear that brave brave author apart. 

 

I think Guy Haley did a pretty good job in Hunter's Moon ^_^

Deadman Wade Veteran

Deadman Wade

Posted
Posted (edited)

I feel like pretty much the only thing he didn't get into was killing off space wolves. I remember him blogging about that, how the fandom would eventually tear that brave brave author apart. 

 

I think Guy Haley did a pretty good job in Hunter's Moon :happy.:

I like "The Emperor's gift" mainly because of many dead Wolves. I was like "yeah, go go Inquisition! Wipe them from my 40k!" :biggrin.:

Edited by Deadman Wade
Kol Saresk Venerable Brother

Kol Saresk

Posted
Posted

I feel like pretty much the only thing he didn't get into was killing off space wolves. I remember him blogging about that, how the fandom would eventually tear that brave brave author apart. 

 

I think Guy Haley did a pretty good job in Hunter's Moon :happy.:

Shoot, you should have seen some of the earlier reactions about Betrayer. "What? Angron put the pounding on Russ? Oh, A D-B hates Space Wolves! Never mind he confirmed the Executioner fluff! He hates us so we should hate him!" Of course, I say early because it was though the whole of BnC reacted to squash it.
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