Warning, incoming Night Lords fluff for a possible army

[Armond]

I am just trying to get some inspiration for starting up my own 30k Night Lords list.  I always thought that having a story always made the army more, personal...  A story follows.  Thoughts would be greatly appreciated...  Am I doing this right?

 

 

 

 

 

The fighting could be found all throughout the corridors and battlements of the Imperial Palace, in the courtyards and gathering places, and amongst the gruesome remains strewn about. The telltale chatter of bolter fire and las weapons reverberated in the night's air, like a constant cadence singing the song of death. Every section of the fortification suffered from the assaults; scorched sections of halls from promethium-based weapons, surgical cuts made by lasers of various make, and the brutal decimation of structures induced by withering bolter fire.

The initial assault had been brutal, once cousins, if not brothers, now battling as though lifelong foes in the name of Horus or for the Emperor. Screams of agony and anger broke through his vox set, bringing a ravenous smile to his face.  Zar-Helek, Captain of the 39th Chapter "The Shadow's Sworn" and his astartes were making delicious progress.  Dusk had fallen quickly and the rise of the sons of the VIII Legion was coming to fruition. The smell of fear permeated the air, generated by the thousands of mortals attempting to stave off the attack of the "traitors."  Generally unsuccessful save where pockets of the scum of Dorn were found, the resistance had beaten a hasty retreat to where their saviors could be found.  These bastions of hope would soon be turned to murder holes.

The 39th Chapter, 2nd Company of the fearsome VIII Legion had entered the upper most battlements of the palace by Storm Eagles following the vanguard of Night Raptors, the night previous. They had suffered casualties from impressive anti-air artillery that reduced them to seventy-percent of their original starting strength. But this had done nothing to reduce their thirst to rain down death and cultivate fear. The upper-most defensive positions were taken and a Legion borne of terror began their work.

In the twenty-four hours that followed their initial delivery, Zar-Helek and his number had cleared the entirety of the upper floors and were working their way downwards, rooting out the stubborn forces of the False Emperor wherever they could be found. There was no mercy and bodies of mortals and Adeptus Astartes were strung along the arches and the walls as proof of what awaited the opposition. Bodies were flayed open, faces left untouched so as to display the terror the victim felt upon dying. Corpses were dumped over the walls into courtyards below bringing horror to the ranks of men guarding the Imperial Palace. As much as they had prepared for the incoming strike, the Emperor's Astartes found themselves occupied with buoying the already wavering courage of their mortal allies.

Zar-Helek rounded the final steps of the corridor and heard the calm, almost whisper-like, voice of Selevon register on the company's vox channel. "We have met with some resistance, we require some... assistance..."

7th Terror Squad's Headmaster, Selevon, selected as such for his especially talented methods of invoking fear rarely asked for such things. He had proved in the past several decades his competence in conducting operations with little to no support, this was an interesting development.

His curiosity piqued, he voxed back "Something beyond your skills Headmaster?"

"Would I have asked otherwise Captain?" The question hung for a long moment before any explanation followed, "We are currently out positioned, the mongrels of Dorn and such are holding a long hallway with more gall than I imagined they would have. If we do not break them soon, be rest assured more will arrive to shore up their already effective defense of this route."

A simple affirmative was voxed back while at the same time Zar-Helek motioned for his personal retinue to accompany him. Heavy steps cracked the white marble flooring as his four bodyguards, his Fearmongers, in their nigh impregnable Cataphractii pattern Terminator Armour formed up in a protective arrow-like formation. After a swift weapons check, the collective tread of the six Astartes in their juggernaut-like resonated through the floor.

Dust trails fell from the ceiling, collecting on Selevon's pauldron, "Stand ready brothers... Our magnanimous leader is coming to our aid..." A steady stream of laughter voxed in from throughout the squad.

"Since when have you ever asked for aid from the likes of Zar-Helek?" The voice was rough, at odds with the softer, more sinister words of the Headmaster. Originating from the the oldest member of his squad, Karek, it sounded almost like a challenge. Severon knew that Karek longed to replace him, but his impatient manner did not see him fit for the role. He always was, and would always be a thoughtless butcher.

"And since when have I ever entertained your inane inquiries Karek? Answer me that?" A barely restrained snigger followed the questions, and then more vocal laughter afterwards followed from the remaining squad members. "Look down the length of the hall and tell me what you see, then explain to me how you would deal with such a... complication."

The shuffle of armoured feet sounded to Selevon's left, as he watched Karek position himself for a view of what obstructed their continued movement. There is no illumination save for dim strips of light along the floor, but with his gene-enhanced vision the problem was obvious. The sons of the VII Legion had created a fortified station manned by Astartes and a small contingent of Imperial Guard. Makeshift walls had been erected from various materials with a what looked to be a heavy bolter A series of shots rang out as a flash from the muzzle of the heavy bolter lit the entirety of the hallway for mere seconds. Karek was struck squarely by a shell on his right pauldron, decimating it in the process. Cursing bitterly to himself he voxed, "You're a bastard Selevon!"

"You chose to look, the fault is your own... Luck was with you, but I would lead with your left until you can find a replacement..." The amusement was evident when the rest of the squad voiced their assent with dark and throaty laughter. They did so for all to hear, especially the mortals integrated with the Imperial Fists down the corridor, how unnerving is it to have your foes laugh so after such a shot? Selevon peered around, his modified Mk III armour whirring in response. Displayed on his red-tinted HUD he saw the lifelines of thirteen members of his terror squad indicating their condition as battle-ready. He had lost two members, Brez and Valucar, since they had began their initial assault into the Imperial Palace. Their status indicators had already been removed from his display as their armour was cannibalized by the rest of the squad to conduct field repairs on their own damaged armour. Through acute tactical awareness and luck, the Headmaster had successfully navigated his circle of murderers within the palace without a loss of another. He had a feeling that was soon to change, given the current situation.

The company frequency went hot as the voice of their Captain broke through the raucous laughter, "We move..." it said.

"'Ware the hea-" but it was too late, the six had already turned the corner and were receiving impressive amounts of fire. The near impervious suits rejected all attempts to be penetrated by the incoming shells. It seemed that nothing more than a repaint by the servitors would be required afterwards, that was until a heavy bolter round found its mark. To the left of Zar-Helek, a Fearmonger knelt to one knee. A round had found its mark and had all but severed his left leg, no longer able to move he provided cover for Selevon's Terror Squad. The advancing wall of Terminator armour proved to be more than could be handled, witnessing the amount of fire they were absorbing, Headmaster Selevon gave the command to advance using them as shields.

As they got closer the invaders opened fire, the arrival of the Fearmongers had certainly tipped the scales in their favor. A deadly hail of bolter fire reduced the ad hoc fortification in mere seconds, revealing the fruit within. At that moment the incoming fire from the defensive position lessened significantly and shortly after they were in the thick of it. It was now down to martial prowess and savagery.

Children, or at least they appeared to be in comparison, turned to flee while others found the last remnants of courage and found the end of their lives in the form of murderglaives. Murderglaives, or more commonly known as chainglaives, are a two handed weapon of brutality. The sound they produce is terrifying for mere men, the promise of death by dismemberment is what they bring. Wielded with two hands, their reach and very real threat was a hallmark of the Terror Squads of the VIII Legion. Most humans simply went limp in the face of such weapons wielded by these demi-gods. But the palace had demigod guardians of their own, and they came to the forefront, looking to provide inspiration and much needed strength of arm. The nine defenders came on uncaring of the numbers they faced, clad in the distinctive yellow that the sons of Dorn were known to wear. They all died the same. Overwhelmed and outnumbered, they sought out honourable deaths. But they would be denied, honour and the such would find no place here, the midnight clad do not fight fair.

"Treasonous dogs! Have you no hono-" the question ended before it could be asked, a chainglaive wielded by a member of the Terror Squad parted the Fist's head from his shoulders. The remaining defenders fell quickly, outnumbered two to one, then three to one. The last of them died facing ten times his number, but he would fall to the bark of a bolter at short range, depriving him of any chance of taking one of the murderers down with him.

"Assess and reload. Call the apothecary if need be, you move forward once the skin has been flayed from the backs of these curs. Ensure they receive proper treatment. I suspect you will meet something of the same further along." Zar-Helek turned back the way they came, "I have other matters to attend to."

"As you will it," the Headmaster voxed to his Captain. "You heard it, prepare yourselves, our work continues..." A quick appraisal of his HUD showed he was down another member, Galeon.  Twelve left...

[Wolf Lord Loki]

I liked your introduction to your warband (I think even during the heresy the Nighlords were little better than that).  It kept their distinctive nature and introduced your own characters.

 

Only problem I can see is I don't believe many Nightlords were at Terra for the siege so you might want to consider why they are there and not razing hell in the eastern fringe. 

 

Other than that - good!  I liked the guy leaning out and getting shot and everyone laughing at him!  ;-)

[Armond]

Thank you! I need to refine the organizational chart and all that to get my numbers right, but I am a little in the dark about the way things are set up. I don't know the upward extent of how many Chapters there are under each Legion. I would say that with the Night Lords it could extend up to about 90 Chapters because I read somewhere they were estimated to sit at around 90k-120k worth of marines in their forces.

 

I am trying to build a small force, specifically a Company from the Shadow Sworn.  I chose the 39th Chapter (Shadow Sworn), 2nd Company as the focus.  I don't know what I want to do with them though in regards to composition. 

 

I thought that adding the dark humor would fit their typical behavior.  The smart-ass remarks I figured would also be something prevalent.  I figured having a guy basically almost get himself killed, and the rest of the squad laughing would be at his expense.  I also wanted to throw in the whole idea of cannibalizing pieces of armour from the fallen, correcting and repairing any of their deficiencies from previous fights.

 

I could have sworn there were some of them there at the Siege of Terra, if I am wrong please point it out and source it for me!  I want to make this right!  I really need to snag the two Horus Heresy books!  I am waiting to come home from deployment to get started.


 

[Hyaenidae]

There were indeed Night Lords at Terra, just not in huge numbers. After the I Legion Broke the Night Lords at the end of the Thramas Crusade, Sevetar scattered the VIII Fleet to pursue their desires. Many went to Terra.

 

This is also seen in the Night Lords trilogy, from the point of view of Talos.

[Kol Saresk]

It would be fair to point out that if we went by Talos' view, we would only be able to say that only the 1st and 10th Companies were at Terra.

 

We do know some went to Terra, but we do not know how many. Technically, we don't even know if the fleet was divided per Sevatar's orders or even how much of the Legion was lost.

 

All we know is, nothing says the Legion(or a majority of the Legion) wasn't there, we know they had some sort of presence at Terra and that at least a confirmed one-fifth, suspected one-fourth of the fleet that was at Sheol was destroyed along with however many of the fifty ships of the rearguard were destroyed.

 

For all we know, the rest of the Kyroptera, spurred by the Atramentar, will rally all of the Legion that will heed their call, rescue Sevatar, by coincidence rescue Curze and then Curze will keep them united until Terra.*

 

*speculation

[Armond]

Well then that is good enough for me, I choose my particular group of murderers to have gone to Terra to wreak some havoc and instill some fear. 

[Wade Garrett]

Well, Sahaal's Raptors are still boasting that they were the first guys over the walls ten thousand years later, so at the very least the jump pack guys were all at the big party.

[Armond]

Roger that, I remember that.  Lucoryphus was the one making that claim right?  I planned on having a unit of Night Lord Raptors, 10 strong. 

 

I think the theme behind this company will be a Vanguard-type force.  A force that would go in and set the stage for Night Lord operations.  Something with the initial force would comprise of something like:

 

*note, all of these thoughts are from a fluffy stand-point

 

Initial deployment

1-2 x Night Lord Raptors (numbering 5-10; quick movers for removing initial threats and anti-air support)

1-2 x Night Lord Breachers (numbering ~10ish; for accessing heavily armored buildings/fortifications/ships)

2-3 x Night Lord Terror Squads (numbering 10-15ish; for causing, well you know...  terror...  with chainglaives...)

1 x Night Lord Recon Squad (numbering 5; to you know...  recon...)

*I don't know about delivery yet, drop pods?  Rhinos?

 

Follow-Up deployment

1 x Night Lord Cataphractii Terminators (numbering 5-9; to scare the bejeezus out of stuff and to add a punch)

1 x Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought (I may consider two, but don't know, maybe one configured for anti-air; death and destruction in a cool package)

1 x Land Raider (not sure of the model, transport HQ and/or Terminators)

*Do I need and Mechanized stuff?  Or what am I missing.  Any good ideas?

 

Does anything I am putting in there make sense?  I think I have room for one more squad of some type for a Company size force.  I just like to plan out my stuff ahead of time before I start making crazy purchases. 

[Phantomzero17]

 

It would be fair to point out that if we went by Talos' view, we would only be able to say that only the 1st and 10th Companies were at Terra.

 

 

Blood Angels tear into the 31st company as well no?  Uzas comments on their shrieking over the vox and how much the Night Lords on the receiving end must not be enjoying it.

[Kol Saresk]

Good catch. I was just poiting out that we shouldn't rely solely on their view because it is so narrow.

[Armond]

This is all for fun, I am just waiting for the opportunity to get home to my models and start working on them.  For now I am developing the fluff/background story for my guys here, if that would be ok. 

 

+++

 

"Sergeant Emil, we have lost contact with Fourth Squad.  Last message received suggests troops in contact, Night Lords..." 

 

The Imperial Guard member looked shaken.  Sweat pooled and dripped from his nose, landing in a small puddle on the floor.  His heart rate was elevated, eyes are wide open, and not to mention the pallid color of his skin.  These men, courageous in their efforts, were starting to lose their composure.  The vox channels had been rife with screams and cries of anguish.  It seemed as though they were repeating, as though recorded and on a loop.  It all makes sense though the Sergeant thought to himself, the murderous children of Curze were known for such tactics.

 

He looked down at the corporal, "Check on your men, give them assurances that the Seventh Legion is here and will drive back these traitors."  The corporal nodded and stepped off towards the bulk of his men to pass the word.

 

Sergeant Emil, Seventh Legion, squad leader of Fourth Squad of "The Vaunted" Company took in his surroundings.  Over twenty-four hours after contact, and they had seen no evidence of the enemy, but that looked to change soon.  All electricity had been cut off, minus anything that had back-up generators such as the floor illuminators.  A gloomy darkness surrounded the entirety of his defensive position which had no effect on his fellow Astartes but was starting to show signs of wear on the resolve of his mortal companions.  Emil had commanded that all elements under his authority were to refrain from using any spotlights or personal illumination devices to preserve what battery life they had.  When the time for combat arrived, they would need them so that the guardsmen could be more effective.  Oh what he would give to trade the twenty Guard members for just one more Marine.

 

The betrayal of his once fellow Astartes still rocked him to the core and spending too long thinking on it inadvertently put him into combat posture, his suit and body responding to the unseen threat.  He wondered what happened to his battle companions within the other Legions, if they could even be called upon as companions.  His thoughts soon raced through the list of Astartes he had let blood with, all the members of those proclaimed turned Legions, were they still loyal?  As he explored his thoughts and revisited memories of victories past, Emil made a cursory inspection of his gear and squad status; all ten members including himself showed life signs as normal and his gear was in order.  A slightly modified suit of Mark II power armour protected him while a Tigrus-pattern bolt pistol and his Power Fist gave him the might to lay waste to his enemies.   As of yet, his armour had yet to be scarred by the fighting, but the need for repair was a guarantee he thought to himself.

 

Static suddenly interrupted the vox communicator, and then silence.  A slow and heavy breathing could then be heard, was there a hot mic somewhere?  "All members, check your voxes, ensure you are not keyed.  Clear the chan..."

 

"Have no fear... cousin...  No member under your command has broken vox discipline..."  The voice was smiling, he could picture it in his mind.  "We can see you..."  The words spoken in a measured and almost playful manner, then the shrieks of torment began.

 

Chaos broke out in that moment.  Guardsmen activated illumination devices to search for the source, cries of fears and doubts filled the still air.  Discipline fell apart and the Astartes were trying to restore confidence with limited success.  What power did mere men have when faced by the enhanced physiology and fighting capability of super-humans, and now this?

 

"Turn that damned thing off!  Everyone switch to squad channels only, stay off the open channels!"  Sergeant Emil's voice cut through the screaming, his armour allowing him to amplify the volume of his voice through his grille.  The screams abruptly ended, and then all that could be heard was cries of pain and the struggled movements of something approaching from the corridor. 

 

A spotlight turned down the length of hallway, and crossed movement some twenty meters away in its panicked effort to find the source.  It was turned back and lay to rest on a struggling body.  Sergeant Emil could hear weapon safeties being deactivated as the defensive force took in the sight.  A body, human, with hands and feet removed was on its backside wriggling in obvious misery.  An Imperial Guard commpack was attached to him and a vox headset strapped to the head, protrusions originating from the chest could be seen glistening in the beam of light.  Magnification of the picture from behind his lens showed the fiends had flayed his skin open and broke his ribcage in a most painful manner.  As the dying guardsman struggled the organs could be seen, heart beating in panic.  Blood trailed from the limbs, painting a morbid picture, burned into the minds of the onlookers.  As the body closed the distance in agonizing slowness, Emil could now see that his eyes had been removed and crimson flowed from the sockets.  This had to be stopped.

 

"Lights off!" the squad leader commanded, the spot light cut off immediately.  Everyone had been watching, too transfixed by the sight of it all to look away, but thankful for the order.  "Quiet him Isaak..." he whispered into his squad-only frequency.  There was no need for the mortals to see what was to come.

 

Not a second later a bolter barked, exploding the sad remains of the guardsman and instilling silence once again.  The Night Lords had done grievous damage and yet not but a single shot had been fired.  The next hour was filled with an eerie silence filled with only the rapid heartbeats and labored breathing of men.

 

[Russ Brother 92]

That is exceptional writing brother - it sent a chill down my spine, especially the description without excessive detail of the poor flayed vox-operator...

[Armond]

Glad you liked it, will be adding everything fluff-based to my thread in the fan fiction section from now on.  Just figured this could be a good bit of insight into what type of army build I wanted.  Terror Squad based.