The Lost Wolf

[The_Terrible_Angel]

Hi all, I had this idea the other night and decided to flesh it out a little bit to see if it would work. 

 

 

The Bridge of the flagship Vengeful Spirit hummed with a combination of power and chaotic forces.  Slaves half eaten by disease and malnutrition clambered over power conduits and worked at their stations. Astartes corrupted by time and the influence of chaos roamed the bridge punishing those who had failed in their service to their lord, and there in the center of the room he sat bedecked in armour that had once been regal and ornate but now was a symbol of fear throughout the galaxy. His hand clasped the hilt of a sword that once belonged to another one who may have in another life time taken his life. Hands tented he stared off into the vastness of the emperyum and allowed his mind to remember.

 

The thunderhawk touched down on the surface of Istavann III the virus bombing had decimated the world, the ground burnt black from the fire storm The marine captain stepped down the ramp his boots causing the metal to almost sing, at his back more thunderhawks touched down and from within his loyal brothers disembarked. His old power armour removed and replaced with a fresh ornate suit of armour.  A marine approached to his side, placing his hand upon the others shoulders guard he spoke “Let’s end this brother, so our true work can begin” A sneer crossed his lips and he snapped off orders into his comm link before he and the marine to his side stalked off like wolves hunting their prey.

 

His armour was dented and torn, a week of siege warfare had ground it down but still he stood strong, defiant in the face of the heresy that would soon stand before him, He knew that their decision to save Horus by cruel and unsanctioned rituals had taken the legion into a place from which it may never return. At his side stood his old friend one who had supported him for many years, whilst smaller in stature due to his power armour he was sure his friend would fight and kill these traitors with his every breath.

 

The citadel door caved in as a heavily armour boot crashed through the centre and shattered the remaining door frame, charging through the door the two marines slammed into the loyalist pair inside throwing them off balance, as they regained their feet the loyalists opened fire on their enemy bolt rounds ricocheted off of armour and bit into ceramite but it had no effect, the outcome of this war would depend solely upon who was better in combat. 

 

 

Rising to his full height and drawing his blade from its scabbard, its blade unblemished unlike his opponents whose bladed showed evidence of the weeks fighting. Staring upon the face of his enemy he spoke “Ezekeyle Abbadon, Former captain of the first, Your warmaster has tried you in your absence and you have been found wanting” Abbadon rose to his full height and stared back into the eyes of his enemy and found nothing of the brother he once knew. “Garviel Loken, if you want my life you will have to fight me for every breath, we should never have let a non son like you into the mournivel, I shall kill you and return our legion to its former glory” with these words the pair charged…

 

Hope you enjoyed I know its a little rough at the moment. 

 

C&C welcome

 

The_terrible_angel