T-Rock Posted October 6, 2015 Share Posted October 6, 2015 Removed for reasons Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/ Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vanguard Posted October 15, 2015 Share Posted October 15, 2015 This was great, I really enjoyed the story. Will further shorts continue with Ruthgrim's transition into full a Astartes? (who I'm guessing later changes his name to Fabienn?) Looking forward to some more! Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4197244 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Barbatos Posted October 16, 2015 Share Posted October 16, 2015 More please, now please, thank you please. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4198632 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted October 17, 2015 Author Share Posted October 17, 2015 Yep! Fabienn's story will continue once our narrative campaign kicks off in a few weeks. My idea was to have these short stories give snap shots of each of the character's life and background preceding the events of the campaign. Currently, I'm working on Guilliem's. Will hopefully be up in the next few days. Thanks for reading everyone! Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4199124 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted November 12, 2015 Author Share Posted November 12, 2015 Hello all! I've been sidetracked trying to get my army painted for the upcoming narrative campaign. I had to skip some character back story in exchange for writing some "scene setting stuff" for the campaign. This is meant to be a prologue before the narrative begins, setting the stage for the rest of the story. Enjoy! ++Incoming Transmission++ Subject: Malathir Solemnus Detachment: Promethia Crusade Deployment: Ultima Segmentum Date: 998.m41 (Click to Accept Message) Pyrriah’s twin suns baked the russet earth of its principle continent, Levantis. From space, the planet’s atmosphere mirrored that of great Terra; a swirl of cobalt and emerald kissed with dapples of white. The surface was home to a far wider pallet of colors, containing a variety of climates from frost encrusted tundras to blistering deserts. Despite its remote location, it had long been under Imperium control, and was a well-established world within the sector. For that reason, the silence from Chapter Keep Promethia was a cause for concern for the Black Templars. Orbital communique from Et Incarnatus had been greeted with nothing but ominous quiet. Abandoning a symbol of their chapter on such an active world was seen as unacceptable, and within hours, Crusader Squad Antioch had made planetfall. Brother Malathir, we should be well within close burst vox range at this distance,” initiate Erias Codira informed his scowling captain. He had spent the last hour broadcasting messages and running scans with the land raider’s onboard auspex and vox systems, but to no avail. The keep remained dormant. “What of the warp storm in the sub-sector? ” the sword brother asked, knowing the answer.“At this proximity, it shouldn’t be affecting our comms, sir." "Yes, I thought not." Malathir sighed. It was not doubt that caused him to question Erias, but rather incredulity at how a full garrison of the Emperor's chosen would simply vanish.From the outset, their seemingly straightforward mission had been fraught with complication. The third war for Armageddon had been a costly one for the Imperium, but the Black Templar had payed an especially bitter price in bringing the greenskins to heel. In order to replenish the staggering casualties, the various crusade fleets had scattered across the galaxy to access chapter keep gene-seed stores. Pyriahh’s keep was thought to have a significant store of gene seed material left over from its long past pacification. It was also supposed to be maintained by a garrison of several dozen battle brothers. If there was a simple explanation for their silence, it was beyond his understanding.As Malathir flicked through picts of the keep on his tactical display, the hackles on the back of his neck began to tingle. It was not the first time he’d felt a phantom chill that day. Since their landing, he had experienced inexplicable headaches and temperature drops. It was beginning to unnerve him.“I do not like this, brother," he whispered. I have sensed it since we arrived here. Something is… off.”“I have felt the same,” Erias replied as he finished relaying the commands to the rhinos. “There is something else,” he continued with a sense of unease.“Go on,” said Malathir, curious. Such trepidation was uncharacteristic of his battle brother.“There was a chaplain attached to the keep’s garrison when it went dark. Letholdus was his name, I believe. I served with him during the Damocles Crusade." Erias' eyes glazed, as though mention of the memory transported him across the galaxy back to the Eastern Fringe. "He was a testament to potency of the Reclusiarchy; fiery in battle as he was in his sermons. His zeal for the Emperor was the only thing that matched his martial prowess. I refuse to believe he was butchered by a wandering pack of xenos or bested by cultists. Yet, had a more sizable force breached Pyrriah’s planetary defenses, it would've surely been detected. Something sinister is at work, Malathir. Witchcraft, perhaps. Or worse.”“Indeed,” Malathir said slowly. They exchanged a sidelong glance, but spoke no further. Thanks to the Black Templar’s less rigid command structure, the veteran and sword brother were able to share their thoughts candidly with one another. The sons of Sigismund rejected the strict, militarized hierarchy laid down by Guilliman in the Codex Astartes. More so than most other chapters, they were a brotherhood; a fraternal order based on bonds of kinship and comradery more than organization and codified tradition.The sword brother rubbed his temples as the chill from his neck began creeping in to his skull. His head began to throb. What could possibly be causing these damnable headaches, he wondered. He is trans-human. He is Space Marine. His enhanced physiology should prevent such human like frailty. His brain felt like it had a pulse, beating in time with the rumbling of the vehicle’s engine.He attempted to distract himself by running through the various tactical scenarios that could play out at the keep. Would it be deserted? Would it be under siege? Or, worse still, compromised? The thought made him grimace. No matter what precautions were taken, no matter how noble the cause, the risk never equaled the reward when it came to the Warp. When one stared in to it's depths, it stared back. Of that, Malathir had no doubt. He prayed its tendrils had not reached Pyrriah. Suddenly, his mild chill lanced in to an icy stab, shooting the length of his spine, and exploding at the base of his cranium. He was frozen, encased in what felt like an invisible sheet of ice. He wanted to scream out in pain, but he could not. He could not even blink. All there was, was the voice.“Turn back, Malathir Solemnus of the Adeptus Astartes.” The voice was a whisper and a sonic boom reverberating through out his mind. It possessed an almost music-like tonality.“The great devourer approaches. If we are undone here, all is lost. Do not interfere with what you cannot hope to comprehend. Do not be a fool. Turn back.”Just as quickly as the voice had shot through Malathir’s mind, it dissipated. The scream that had been bubbling up from his chest erupted. It began as nothing more than a barbarous howl, but soon grew in to a frenzied canticle, as he recited one of his chapter's sacred vows. The marines around him jumped back in surprise at his sudden furious bellowing.“Smite now the scions of the Witch! Grant us the strength to pierce their unclean flesh! To cover their fields with the pale form of their blasphemous dead. To drown the thunder of guns with the shriek of their dying! To lay waste--” his thunderous chanting continued, but was drowned out by the roar of an explosion that shook the land raider. A glancing shot. Was it a warning? Surely not. He cursed. Damned xeno trickery.“Multiple contacts appearing on the auspex, sir! It’s as if they stepped out of thin air!” a fresh faced neophyte shouted. Malathir tightened the grip on his power sword.“Gun servitors, begin target lock sequences for auto cannon and hurricane bolter armaments. Brothers, prepare for embarkation. Abhor the Witch! Destroy the Witch! For Sigismiund! For the Emperor!" Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4223350 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brother Augustine Posted November 30, 2015 Share Posted November 30, 2015 Looking forward to more! Good work! Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4238927 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted December 11, 2015 Author Share Posted December 11, 2015 Long overdue! This is the battle report from the first half of our opening mission, and directly follows the prologue entry from earlier. ++Incoming Transmission++ Subject: Malathir Vichier Detachment: Promethia Crusade Deployment: Ultima Segmentum Date: 995.m41 Autarch Eolon cursed. The obstinance of the mon-keigh was anathema to him. To the wizened sensibilities of the Eldar, humanity seemed no more than impetuous, bloodthirsty barbarians. Nevertheless, what the species lacked prudence, it made up for in sheer determined will. Their once burgeoning galactic empire proved the merit of their brutish, yet potent attributes. It was for that reason Eolon hoped he could avoid open conflict with the rapidly approaching Black Templar battle company. In truth, intruding on the mind of their commander had been a desperate last gambit. Conflict, it seemed, would be unavoidable. He must secure the keep, no matter the cost. Its contents were invaluable to his cause- to the survival of the entire system, in fact. His guardian squad rushed up the derelict causeway, and took position at the entrance, while the wave serpents formed a pincer on the field below, flanking a lumbering wraith lord. They had time to set up before the humans arrived, but the enemy armor was closing quickly. Eolon motioned to the nearby wave serpent to fire a last warning shot at the approaching vehicles, in the vain hope putting steel to his words would give the fools pause. As if spurned on by the warning shot instead of deterred by it, the Templar’s behemoth tank roared towards the keep even faster, kicking up a maelstrom of dust from the blasted landscape. It was flanked by a slightly smaller transport, which rumbled alongside. The Eldar readied their weapons and hunkered behind the scattered ruins outside the keep. Before Eolon’s forces could strike out at the advancing spearhead, though, a distant, shrill whistle piqued their attention. Their elevated aural sensors picked up the sound well before any human’s would have, but it was still too late. The heavens split above them. A thunderous shriek birthed the flickering sight of two Adeptus Astartes drop pods lancing through Pyrriah’s cerulean sky. A booming crack whipped the air as they ripped through the atmosphere.Mure tial fein, Eolon thought to himself. Death from above; simple, effective, and brazenly stupid—quite the apt stratagem for humanity. The assault would land too far on the leftt flank for him to engage, and he continued towards the land raider. Despite the cacophony that broke the once silent plain, the pod’s descent had lasted only a few seconds. With an ear rending boom, the pair struck the caked earth of Pyrriah, showering the nearby waveserpent in a geyser of dirt and debris. The drop pod’s tendrils unfurled with a metallic clink, and opened. For the briefest of moments, silence swirled with acrid smoke. “TO ME BROTHERS! PURGE THE XENOS! BURN THE WITCH” the midnight black gargantuan boomed, its distorted vox-hanced voice carrying out over the plains. It pounded down the metal ramp towards the exposed wave serpent in a furious charge. In a vain attempt to catch its quarry with a last second blast, the Eldar tank whipped around on its anti-grav hover jets, hoping to bring its bright lance to bear Unbeknownst to its crew, the adjustment would merely open up the wave serpent’s side armor. Distracted by the ceramite mountain pounding towards them, they failed to notice the five man squad embarking from the accompanying drop pod. The marines sprinted towards the vehicles blind side and unleashed the fury of their meltaguns. The blackened muzzles belched out an oozing, promethean lava that consumed the wave serpent’s hull, boiling its contents and navigational controls. It spun out of control, and crashed in to the dirt and skidding to a halt. Despite the destruction of the tank, the dreadnought continued its frenzied charge. For such a lumbering thing, its timing was perfect. No sooner had it reached a few dozen yards from the wreckage, Eldar stumbled out, attempting to snapfire shots at the giant creature. Their fire pinged off its armored hull harmlessly. The dreadnought lifted its giant gauntleted fist, and aimed it at his attackers. Flame whooshed out from the spout beneath his gauntleted fists and enveloped the lithe Eldar, immolating them instantly. “I AM TANCRED! I AM DEATH INCARNATE!” The shock of the spearhead had caught the Eldar on the back foot, unprepared for the lethality of the drop pod assault. After the initial shock of the attack wore off, the Space Marines and their Iron Clad ally were dangerously exposed. The rash attack was a double edged sword, and the backswing would be costly. Shruiken cannons ripped in to the melta squad’s MK VII power armor, the calm practiced shots of the guardians finding their mark, tearing in to the exposed joints in Space Marine’s plate. They all fell before they even had the chance to return fire, blood spilling from their shredded armor. The dreadnought fared better though, suffering only a glancing blow off its ceramite hull. Turning from the lone survivor of his initial flamer assault, he faced a closing cadre of wraith knights and bellowed, taunting them. “TANCRED ENDURES!” As he charged the knights, they parted, and a towering wraith lord strode through their midst. The pair would meet in matched combat: war machine against war machine. The dreadnought’s momentum gave it the early advantage, its energy charged fists smashing in to the automaton’s faceplate. His second fist hammered its midsection, cracking mechanized ribs. The dreadnought Tancred reached his fist back for the finishing blow, but before it could connect, his arm was severed from his hull. The wraithsword had moved with such blinding speed, Tancred barely saw the bright flash of metal before his dismembered limb clanked to the ground. In a desperate last attempt to fell his foe, he threw a wild open fisted thrust in to the wraith lord’s midsection. The Eldar pirouetted with surprising grace, avoiding the brunt of the attack. He raised his relic imbued sword above his head, and spun it in a triumphant flourish. “Tancred…endu-” the blade cleaved the ancient sarcophagus, splitting it down the center. Tancred was silenced. The Wraith Lord was grievously wounded, but not yet undone. Seeing their brethren and venerated engine of war slain by Eldar hands prompted the Black Templar in to even deeper rage, and their land raider and rhino transports kicked in to their highest gear, churning across the battlefield at breakneck speed. The moment the wraith knights were in range, the gun servitors clicked on and the cannoned echo of auto-cannon fire joined the din of battle. Autarch Eolon ran towards the site of the third descending drop pod, rallying the exposed rangers, who had been torn apart from bolter and plasma fire. He unleashed a burst of eldritch lighting over the embarking marines, killing two of them outright in a dizzying flash of violet. The fleeing rangers turned and cheered, joining their leader. Eolon drew his blade and gracefully strode towards his quarry. “Haras fell, caman roisin, mure ashafar, offiga rothe!” he cried. His brothers took up the call. The fools must come to understand their folly if they are to stand a chance against the Great Devourer, and where words faltered, blades would not. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4249130 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brother Augustine Posted December 11, 2015 Share Posted December 11, 2015 Sweet! Looking forward to more! Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4249217 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted January 27, 2016 Author Share Posted January 27, 2016 Removed Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4286150 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted January 28, 2016 Author Share Posted January 28, 2016 Removed for reasons Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4287737 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Carrack Posted January 29, 2016 Share Posted January 29, 2016 In honor of my campaign (finally/hopefully) beginning in earnest I typed up a quick "Crusade Launch" sermon to signify the official start of the Promethia Crusade. Castellan Aethalas did not preach to his brethren to illicit fear. They knew no fear. He did not preach to strengthen their resolve. They knew no pity. He did not preach to comfort their hearts. They knew no remorse. He sought only one thing: to remind each Templar of his duty. Duty was what defined them. It was their mantle in life, as it was their shroud in death. As he continued, his voice built in exaltation. The whole sermon was excellent, but this paragraph really struck me as truly outstanding. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4287901 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted January 29, 2016 Author Share Posted January 29, 2016 Thanks, man! The compliment is much appreciated. Keep checking in for updates. Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4287914 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted January 29, 2016 Author Share Posted January 29, 2016 Removed for reasons... Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4287922 Share on other sites More sharing options...
T-Rock Posted January 29, 2016 Author Share Posted January 29, 2016 Removed for reasons Link to comment https://bolterandchainsword.com/topic/314570-the-promethia-crusade-black-templar-short-stories/#findComment-4287930 Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Archived
This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.