Win a Titan story thread-post here!

[Theredknight]

Haha had to hide a couple of days yet, will update!

[Brother Dallo]

You might want to hide that for a day or two. The stories don't have to be in until 23.59 April 3rd.

 

Dallo

[Theredknight]

Ok done, just in case. What did you think of it just out of interest?

[Brother Dallo]

I'm still working on my story, so I deliberately didn't read it yet.

 

Will do though.

 

Dallo

[SpawningDoom4u]

Alright, here is what I've got

 

ii (a) Choose a name for your Titan.

 

Velox Nex and Velox Ictus

 

ii (b) In 400 words or less, tell us how your Titan earned its glorious or infamous name

 

The Warhound built up his speed, charging from the rear of Legio Griphonicus’ battle lines. He was in lock step with his twin Warhound, operating in complete synchrony.

 

“Now Velox Nex.” Chimed the vox

 

Velox Nex shifted direction at the last moment and, with its massive form, shouldered the back leg joint of one of the Legion’s Reaver Titans. The joint crumpled under the pressure of the impact. His brother, Velox Ictus, focused fire on the damaged joint and sent shards metal and hydraulic fluid raining from the Reaver’s wound.

 

“Traitor!” cried the Reaver’s Princeps, as the damaged limb propelled the larger Titan into a clumsy collapse. Titans from Legio Fureans seized the opportunity, as if they anticipated the Warhounds’ actions, and delivered torrents of heavy firepower into the collapsed God Machine. The Reaver was engulfed in flames as void shields failed and plasma cores detonated.

 

Before the smoke from the detonations cleared, the twin Warhounds were already building up speed towards their next target. Both Titans unleashed hails from their Laser Destructors and Plasma Blastguns into the flak of another of Griphonicus’ Warhounds. Their former brother collapsed, as if a fiery comet falling, as the twins sped past the conflagration.

 

The Two Titans closed with their final target, the sole remaining Warlord Titan on Paramar V. The battle lines had already begun collapsing on the War Griffons, the enemy forming a crescent around their position. The twin Warhounds raced to encircle the Warlord as super heavy Alpha Legion tanks erupted amongst the enemy Titans. The XX Legion unleashed the full might of their payload into the Warlord, Vulkite beams and massive lasers sheering the armor plate off the God Machine. Volcano Canons and Laser Destructors returned the favor, turning multiple Super Heavies into molten piles of slag. Before a second volley could be fired, the twin Titans charged the rear of the Warlord. At Maximum speed, Velox Ictus collided into the legs of the Warlord as Velox Nex jumped, cleared his brothers head, and crashed into the back of the Titan. The Warlord began his slow descent, as its massive form met the rocky surface the God Machine imploded on itself. The ensuing detonation sent massive heaps of metal flying hundreds of yards away. The Warhounds narrowly cleared the explosion.

 

“Proceed to check point Omega,” a voice ordered over the twins’ vox.

 

They responded as one, “Yes Harrowmaster.”

[Ovidius Incertus]

LOL, first person to post a story here and it's largely the same premise as mine, with Warhounds knocking stuff over. What are the odds?

[Davekunes]

Here was my crack at it... 

 

Imperialis Ex Inferno

 

Techmarine Russell Palmer approaches Ultramarines Veteran Sergeant Hilbrant and Librarian Procopius. The pair are arguing on a bridgeway overlooking the haggard remains of an ancient Warlord-class Titan newly recovered from Calth’s surface.

 

“Justified how?” Procopius demanded.

 

“Steel abides longer than flesh, Librarian.” Hilbrant replied.

 

“But it does not abide eternally!”

 

Palmer interrupted, “Sergeant, I came as soon as I received the dispatch. How was the discovery made?”

 

“Time and luck mostly. While departing with Captain Ventris one of the T-hawks saw pieces of the Titan peaking out of the ground.” Hilbrant said.

 

“There hasn’t been surface conflict since—”

 

“Since the Betrayal at Calth. This Titan lost one hundred thousand battle brothers in a week. He sacrificed himself to buy time for our Legion’s retreat. Now after a millennia our Sergeant has just dug him up to re-enlist.” Procopius said.

 

“That was his duty then, and it is his duty now. Who among us has not been through a comparable loss?” Hilbrant said.

 

“Honor dictates that we recover what information we can and then grant him the Emperor’s Peace.”

 

“Save the idealism. ‘We are the sons of Guilliman. Whilst we draw breath, we stand. Whilst we stand, we fight.’” Hilbrant recited.

 

“More dogma!” Procopius said.

 

“You know the dark forces that we face. The decision is made,” Hilbrant said.

 

“Emperor save us,” an exasperated Procopius said before turning to leave the hangar.

 

Palmer stepped towards Hilbrant. “What if he’s right, Sergeant? The mind-core has been trapped in its own consciousness ever since the siege. Laudator Magnificat sustained far less trauma and went berserk when recommissioned. Or what if there is a ghost in the link?”

 

“All risks, Palmer. Procopius isn’t wrong. We’re waking the Titan up from one Hell to send him to the frontlines of another. But the Librarian doesn’t understand our decision because he places too much esteem in past heroes, glories and sacrifices. Here in the present it comes down to this. Which Hell would you rather be in?” asked the Sergeant.

 

“This one sir,” Palmer grunted.

 

“Me too. Because we’re Ultramarines. We’d all choose the same. Even Procopius.”

 

“Titan needs a new name then, Sergeant. To help process this... transition.”

 

Hilbrant thought wordlessly for several minutes. “Imperialis Ex Inferno.”

 

“‘From Hell.’ Fitting name, Sergeant.”

 

“Inform the Collegia Titanica we’re en route then get to work. There’s a lot to prepare in transit,” Hilbrant ordered.

###

[Lagrath]

Here is my story. I was inspired by the poetry of Percy Bysshe Shelley and T.S. Eliot. Bonus points if you can catch some of the imagery and motifs I was trying to capture in the story (or even the poems themselves). Please let me know if you guys enjoy it!

 

----

 

Far below the soaring spires of ancient Terra, collapsed deep beneath the strata of cities and conflicts long past, lies a lazy, rolling plain of stretching apple-red sands and antediluvian debris. Long not seen by the sun, two great trunks emerge from a darkened corner of this subterranean desert. Just as the light of the Emperor may reach the most twisted of hearts and the furthest corners of the stars, so can the seed of corruption fester and seethe, hidden in its foulness, even here on the most hallow of worlds.

 

In the glow of scattered sparks dropping from the cave’s infinite roof, a lone green guardian makes its home between silent, broken legs that once shook the world. Giggling, tumbling across sand and metallic wreckage, this insolent custodian is the sole survivor of a bloated vessel previously pregnant with countless kindred. Chittering and belching, the diminutive creature wobbles over to an exposed slice of adamantium plating, gaping in stupid wonder at its own reflection.

 

Across the impossible distance of time and space, linked by pinhole in reality, the Nurgling’s twin stares back. Bending over, it peers into an unholy mirror of muddied waters within their Grandfather’s Garden. Above the sullied pond looms a giant oak of rusting metal and hanging vines. Though the Titan’s mortal cage may have been cast down, caving into the earth before the Imperial Palace, the monster’s inner essence was banished back to its pungent birthplace. On that fateful day ten thousand years ago, a spirit-echo of the vast machine took root in the Garden.

 

In the Warp, time flows strangely. Amidst weeping willows of gargantuan scale, here in the humid swamps, damnation slumbers. One day, it knows, some insane sorcerer or madman magos will once again call it forth with unspeakable runes and the sacrifice of wailing souls. Someday, enormous gun barrels, now full of nesting, one-eyed birds and foaming moss, will once more bring war to the worlds of man.

 

Like all great diseases throughout history, this scything pestilence has been known by many different titles.

 

In the true tongue of Daemons, Thl’bhaag’g’il’dan’n.

 

In the forgotten records of the Heresy, Moribundus Lignum.

 

But as Loyalists looked upon its towering, corpulent visage in despair, this slumbering beast of Nurgle, the once-and-future reaper, was called by a name feared far and wide when the flags of rebellion still flew.

 

The Dying Tree.

[Lagrath]

Here was my crack at it... 

 

Imperialis Ex Inferno

 

Love this story, cool idea and name. I think your story is a good contender for the prize. I usually have a lots of criticism for my own writings and that of others, but with your writing style and the premise I didn't have any quibbles except one or two minor ones. Thanks for sharing!

[Theredknight]

Good stories guys!

Here was mine re posted, my friends reply after he saw it was what a bar-steward!

 

Reaver Titan ‘Actus Reus’ (Guilty Act) Legio Mortis, Early crusade Era.

 

During the first years to recapture the sol system, Reaver titan ‘Ferrum Soldat’ was tasked along with 2 warhound titans in clearing Jupiter’s moon IIo from that which infested it.

 

The ‘Aliens’ they were told, where actually humans not loyal to the emperor, and shunned his light. On a scouting mission, it encountered what appeared to be a residential hab complex built within a raised land mass.

Messages in a version of the same imperial language flashed up and bombarded the legion with vox communications begging them to show mercy.

 

The unprotected complex it turned out, was actually an infant and adolescent ground, where children went to school, learned skills and progressed to adulthood.

Within the complex itself 1.45 million souls, mostly below the age of 16 standard terran years resided.

 

As his war machine stood sentinel over the entrance, it played his scanners over the transparent plexi-glass structure.

Within, were children holding hands, and looking up in awe of the massive machine. They had never seen anything like it. Princeps Amellii’s heart broke as he saw an infant, barely 6 weeks’ old being clutched by a nursemaid. So much like his own daughter.

 

The order came through from the legio commander ‘All enemies of the emperor are to be terminated’

His subordinates warned of the fragile truce his lord Kelbor-Hal had made with the Imperium, and that they MUST follow the order.

With a heavy heart he began to charge the melta cannon on his arm and sync the Gatling blaster to his targeting systems.

 

He gave the order to hold fire to the warhounds, who charged their turbo lasers. He hoped that at the last second, the order would be rescinded, it was not, and the Astarte’s gave an angry repeat of the order.

 

He tracked his apocalypse launcher onto the infant hab dome and sent the order to fire to the warhounds, he then released the burning heat within his arms. He closed his eyes and looked away as he fired.

The vox signals continued to transmit as thousands of children were burnt to ashes, vented to atmosphere and annihilated from existence by the barrage.

A tear rolled down his cheek and a canker was placed within his heart from that day for what the emperor had made him do.

From that day on, his crew renamed the titan ‘Actus Reus’ as a reminder.

[The Grim Badger]

Loving reading these stories guys!! Here is my entry, I hope you like it :)

 

http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n240/mankindben/Titan%20Comp.jpg

[animal310]

1

 

Sitrom

 

2:

 

Lomax, his face covered in dust and blood, grabbed hold of the dying Princeps and hauled him clear of the wreckage of his machine.

 

“What is it doing?” he screamed at the man, “It’s one of yours, what the hell is it doing? Why is it attacking us, why did it attack you?”

 

The Princeps looked at up at him and then over to the Warlord Titan Sitrom which was coming around again, its Gattling Blaster spinning up ready to spit out another hail of destruction.

  

Fear gripped Lomax as he too looked over to the walking god, the whole Titan was scarred black, like a shadow, the red eyes blazing on the command head providing the only dash of colour.

 

“They said to leave it”

 

Lomax had to strain to hear what the Princeps was saying over the roar of Sitrom’s war horn “What, leave what, what are you on about?”

 

“We found it, buried.”

 

Lomax shouted over to Peters “Bring the Vox now!”

 

“We thought it was fine, no taint of any kind was detected”

 

Lomax was shouting orders at his men frantically. Most were trying to find some kind of cover in amongst the rubble of the former hab building.

 

“Some thought the name amusing, well the joke is on us now”

 

Lomax dragged the Princeps into cover and rested him against a crumbling concrete wall, “Listen old man, I need you to pull yourself together, stop talking gibberish, get on the Vox and tell your mate up there to stop blowing the crap out of his allies”

 

“It won’t do any good, it must have warped his mind, I heard him, before he attacked me, my old friend Aldred, is long gone, replaced by a screaming lunatic”

 

Lomax tried to examine the Princeps injuries, but stopped when he realised that nothing could be done to save the man, even if they had the resources.

 

“Its old masters would be proud, we were fools”

 

Lomax looked deep into the Princeps eyes and could see his life draining away

 

“We named it after its old masters”

 

“Named what?” shouted Lomax.

 

The Princeps struggled to take his last breaths as his eyes slid shut.

 

“It, the Titan, if you want to know why every man woman and child within this town will die today, invert the name and know that it means death.”  

[Davekunes]

 

Here was my crack at it... 

 

Imperialis Ex Inferno

 

Love this story, cool idea and name. I think your story is a good contender for the prize. I usually have a lots of criticism for my own writings and that of others, but with your writing style and the premise I didn't have any quibbles except one or two minor ones. Thanks for sharing!

 

Thanks so much for the feedback. That's awesome. This is my first time writing a story like this so I'd appreciate hearing even the minor quibbles. I will read and review your story today. From first read I like it!

[KBA]

Loving reading these stories guys!! Here is my entry, I hope you like it :)

 

http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n240/mankindben/Titan%20Comp.jpg

My favorite so far. Would be surprised if you didn't place. Loved this!

[The Grim Badger]

Loving reading these stories guys!! Here is my entry, I hope you like it

My favorite so far. Would be surprised if you didn't place. Loved this!

Thanks :) glad you enjoyed it. I've not done any creative writing since my school days, found it surprisingly enjoyable! :) Not sure about placing, but hey - it was worth a punt! :)

[ElectricPaladin]

Everyone! The deliberations begin today. Good luck! May the best titan conquer!

[Demus Ragnok]

I didn't enter this but it's about a titan, kinda, and I've had it on my tablet for a while. So here ya go.

 

Tomas lifted his face out of the dust. His senses swirled and bobbed.

He knew he was on the ground.

“Rifle?”

It was in the dust next to him. He pulled it in and checked it.

“Feet?”

Tomas could feel his feet move in his boots. His back wasn't broken and his legs were still there.

“YOU.” The shout came from Tomas’ left. His brain was still swimming in porridge.

Something grabbed him by the right arm and rolling him over.

“CRUCIAN.” Tomas looked up at a man wearing the armor of the Solar cohorts. Tomas tried to form words but he was still groggy. The man shook Tomas hard.

“YOU GOT FEET SOLDIER?”

Tomas nodded.

“GET ON ‘EM. EXCOM WANTS EVERYBODY OUGHTA THIS DITCH IN TEN. MECHANICUM‘S GOT HEAT COMIN’.”

Tomas stood, collected his helmet and tried to get his bearings. All around him were troopers of the Merican Solar Auxillia cohort. They were moving. Further down the hill some were still firing at an enemy Tomas couldn't see.

“CRUCIAN!” The same trooper yelled at Tomas again.

“BEAT FEET UP THAT HILL SON. WHAT THE FETH IS YOUR PROBLEM ARE YOU WAITING ON THE EMPEROR’S PERSONAL INVITATION. MOOOOOVE!” The man, who Tomas now recognized as a troop master, pointed toward higher ground. Tomas followed the flow of Merican troops up the hill into the cover of a rocky outcrop.

Thunder rumbled. Tomas could feel it more than hear it.

“That's no thunder.” He thought. “Tis like drums, a rhythm playing in the ground.”

Wasn't a rolling bombardment, Tomas knew that sound well.

Thunder grew stronger.

Just as he was about to ask what was about, the bray of horns rolled up the valley from the south.

“Ships?” Tomas puzzled out loud.

The Merican next to him chuckled, “Nah man. That's the sound of ah angry god.”

Tomas gave a blank look.

“Titans.” The Merican replied.

Lightning struck the valley floor. Tomas instinctively turned away, crouching behind a large stone. The shockwave thumped hard in his chest. Tomas looked out from his cover toward the south. Striding up the valley was an avatar of death, onyx and steel trimmed in jade.

The city below came alive. Hundreds of guns opened fire, rounds squealing against the Titan’s void shields.

From the far side of the city missiles leapt skyward. So large Tomas could make out the details of their structure. The huge rockets arched toward the treading titan.

“COVER COVER COVER.” The troop master shouted. Tomas dropped and tucked.

For a moment the world came unhinged.

That day Tomas watched a Titan murder an entire city.

[KBA]

Here is my story. I was inspired by the poetry of Percy Bysshe Shelley and T.S. Eliot. Bonus points if you can catch some of the imagery and motifs I was trying to capture in the story (or even the poems themselves). Please let me know if you guys enjoy it!

 

----

 

Far below the soaring spires of ancient Terra, collapsed deep beneath the strata of cities and conflicts long past, lies a lazy, rolling plain of stretching apple-red sands and antediluvian debris. Long not seen by the sun, two great trunks emerge from a darkened corner of this subterranean desert. Just as the light of the Emperor may reach the most twisted of hearts and the furthest corners of the stars, so can the seed of corruption fester and seethe, hidden in its foulness, even here on the most hallow of worlds.

 

In the glow of scattered sparks dropping from the cave’s infinite roof, a lone green guardian makes its home between silent, broken legs that once shook the world. Giggling, tumbling across sand and metallic wreckage, this insolent custodian is the sole survivor of a bloated vessel previously pregnant with countless kindred. Chittering and belching, the diminutive creature wobbles over to an exposed slice of adamantium plating, gaping in stupid wonder at its own reflection.

 

Across the impossible distance of time and space, linked by pinhole in reality, the Nurgling’s twin stares back. Bending over, it peers into an unholy mirror of muddied waters within their Grandfather’s Garden. Above the sullied pond looms a giant oak of rusting metal and hanging vines. Though the Titan’s mortal cage may have been cast down, caving into the earth before the Imperial Palace, the monster’s inner essence was banished back to its pungent birthplace. On that fateful day ten thousand years ago, a spirit-echo of the vast machine took root in the Garden.

 

In the Warp, time flows strangely. Amidst weeping willows of gargantuan scale, here in the humid swamps, damnation slumbers. One day, it knows, some insane sorcerer or madman magos will once again call it forth with unspeakable runes and the sacrifice of wailing souls. Someday, enormous gun barrels, now full of nesting, one-eyed birds and foaming moss, will once more bring war to the worlds of man.

 

Like all great diseases throughout history, this scything pestilence has been known by many different titles.

 

In the true tongue of Daemons, Thl’bhaag’g’il’dan’n.

 

In the forgotten records of the Heresy, Moribundus Lignum.

 

But as Loyalists looked upon its towering, corpulent visage in despair, this slumbering beast of Nurgle, the once-and-future reaper, was called by a name feared far and wide when the flags of rebellion still flew.

 

The Dying Tree.

 

This is fantastic, Lagrath. The mood and atmosphere in the piece is incredible. Hard to fault anything here. Points to a Latin name that holds up from English to Latin, and from Latin to English. I only have one criticism: the nurgling is such a well-written, charming set-piece, I found it may have been a missed opportunity to call-back to the creature in the ending sequence in some way -- though I completely understand the decision to emphasize the dark presence within the Titan with a limited word count.

[Iduddy]

Here was my entry:
 

Name: Sono Eximium the Banshee of Terra
Legio Fureans
Princep Nero

Princep Nero maintained close correspondence with Chief Apothecary Fabius Bile throughout the Great Crusade.  The Primogenitor and Nero would spend much of their translation in the Immaterium debating the finer points of Human perfection and the augmentations of the Mechaninicum.  At the outbreak of the Horus Heresy when the Legio Fureans declared for the Warmaster, Nero quickly followed suit.  Following Horus's war to Terra, the Sono Eximium routinely was attached to the Third Legion due to Nero's relationship with the Primogenitor.  This had heavily influenced the crew since the whispers of the Dark Prince was strong with the Third Legion.

 

During the Siege of Terra Sono Eximium grew impatient at the lack of progress that the Legio Mortis had made on the Walls of the Imperial Palace.  When the Third Legion disengaged from the siege to pillage the population of Terra, the Sono Eximium followed.  The Sono Eximium turned its guns on population centers to drive the civilians from their homes.  Armed with exotic and unknown sonic weapons similar to those carried by the degenerate Kakophoni, entire spires crumbled to the ground.  The inhabitants' internal organs liquidifed into corrupted ooze, while their bones were pulverized into a fine powder.  Structural steel became malleable from the sonic assault.  In the semi-liquid state, the steel could no longer support the billions of tonnes of the hive structure and collapsed.  Terror spread throughout the Terran hives as the banners of the Third Legion were herald by the disharmonious blaring of the Sono Eximium's sonic cannons.  The impending approach of the Sono Eximium presented the civilians the choice of being annihilated a God-Machine or to flee into the Emperor's Children.  Much of the population chose poorly.  Ignorant of the depravity of the Third Legion, entire hive spires fled into the waiting Emperor's Children.  The lucky died in a cacophony of agony to the blades of the Third Legion, while millions more were taken for the experimentation of Fabius Bile.  

Following the death of the Warmaster by the Emperor's hands, and the Traitor Legions scattered retreat to the Eye of Terror.  Sono Eximium remained with the Third Legion during the withdrawal.  Countless worlds were emptied as the Sono Eximium's sonic assault drove the population into the Third Legion.  However Imperial forces during the Scouring were always too late, either by fate or unholy divine intervention by Slaanesh.  All that remained of entire cities were the distorted skeletons of buildings; tainted, corrupted, and unfit for Imperial life.  

Upon fleeing into the Eye of Terror, Sono Eximium took residence on the now corrupted Eldar Maiden World of Eidolon.  There the Sono Eximium laid dormant, and forgotten by the Imperium's citizens.  The physical scars from the Siege of Terra and the following retreat were demolished and rebuilt over the millennia.  Dogmatic legends remain in the minds of the Imperium of the events of the Heresy in the twilight years of the 41st Millennium.  Yet for the first time in ten thousand years, the fusion core of the Banshee of Terra is burning as Abbadon the Warmaster unites the warbands of the Long War for his Thirteenth Black Crusade.  Sono Eximium now walks and looks in the Chaotic skies of Eidolon, and in the brief moment stares at the fortress world of Cadia.

[Epimetheus13]

Here is my story. I was inspired by the poetry of Percy Bysshe Shelley and T.S. Eliot. Bonus points if you can catch some of the imagery and motifs I was trying to capture in the story (or even the poems themselves). Please let me know if you guys enjoy it!

 

----

 

Far below the soaring spires of ancient Terra, collapsed deep beneath the strata of cities and conflicts long past, lies a lazy, rolling plain of stretching apple-red sands and antediluvian debris. Long not seen by the sun, two great trunks emerge from a darkened corner of this subterranean desert. Just as the light of the Emperor may reach the most twisted of hearts and the furthest corners of the stars, so can the seed of corruption fester and seethe, hidden in its foulness, even here on the most hallow of worlds.

 

In the glow of scattered sparks dropping from the cave’s infinite roof, a lone green guardian makes its home between silent, broken legs that once shook the world. Giggling, tumbling across sand and metallic wreckage, this insolent custodian is the sole survivor of a bloated vessel previously pregnant with countless kindred. Chittering and belching, the diminutive creature wobbles over to an exposed slice of adamantium plating, gaping in stupid wonder at its own reflection.

 

Across the impossible distance of time and space, linked by pinhole in reality, the Nurgling’s twin stares back. Bending over, it peers into an unholy mirror of muddied waters within their Grandfather’s Garden. Above the sullied pond looms a giant oak of rusting metal and hanging vines. Though the Titan’s mortal cage may have been cast down, caving into the earth before the Imperial Palace, the monster’s inner essence was banished back to its pungent birthplace. On that fateful day ten thousand years ago, a spirit-echo of the vast machine took root in the Garden.

 

In the Warp, time flows strangely. Amidst weeping willows of gargantuan scale, here in the humid swamps, damnation slumbers. One day, it knows, some insane sorcerer or madman magos will once again call it forth with unspeakable runes and the sacrifice of wailing souls. Someday, enormous gun barrels, now full of nesting, one-eyed birds and foaming moss, will once more bring war to the worlds of man.

 

Like all great diseases throughout history, this scything pestilence has been known by many different titles.

 

In the true tongue of Daemons, Thl’bhaag’g’il’dan’n.

 

In the forgotten records of the Heresy, Moribundus Lignum.

 

But as Loyalists looked upon its towering, corpulent visage in despair, this slumbering beast of Nurgle, the once-and-future reaper, was called by a name feared far and wide when the flags of rebellion still flew.

 

The Dying Tree.

This is an exceptional piece of prose. Truly outstanding. Well done.

[Lagrath]

...that was a weird thread move, hah

[jbaeza94]

The Pillar of Liamane

 

The roars could be heard, and a thunderous stampede shook the ground. The soldiers of the PDF stood at their posts, lasguns at the ready, heavy bolters staged and ready to fire. The orks were charging the city. The artillery began to fire, followed by heavy bolters, then the lasguns. For days upon days, the PDF held the orks, but they could not forever. Slowly, the orks began to make ground. Some parts of the line began to be overran, and morale was swiftly dropping. Suddenly, the ground began to shake to a thunderous beat. The giant gates of Liamane open, and instantly a wall of mass reactive bolts and a torrent of flame begin to slaughter the orks. At the sight of the mighty machine, the PDF fought with newfound strength.

 

Wave after wave was beat back by the immense fire power of the god machine. Ork transports would be left burnt husks, their cargo reduced to ashes under the immense heat of the inferno gun. Even a stompa fell to the unrelenting torrent from the mega bolter despite its thick armor. No xenos filth was safe from the ferocity of the warhound titan. For 16 days, the defense of Liamane went on until the unthinkable happened. The orks relentlessness was enough to drop both void shields over the span of the battle, but a lone fighta-bommer crashing into its knee was what crippled the mighty titan and its maneuverability.

 

With a seized leg, the crew slowly maneuvered the warhound to the only entrance to the walled city of Liamane. The PDF took up positions along the walls of the city after a systematic retreat. The two giant doors shut, and only the titan remained in front of the gates of Liamane. For three days, the unmoving behemoth stood as a stalwart defender of the city. Countless orks and ork war machines fell to the might of the warhound. In the evening of the third day, the much needed support arrived in the form of drop pods and thunderhawk gunships of the Iron Lions space marine chapter. Crippled and unable to continue with the prosecution of the war, the god machine stood sentry over the city while ground forces drove the orks back.

 

To this day, it stands alone in unmoving vigilance. Should the orks return, they shall be greeted at the gate by the Pillar of Liamane.

 

 

My story,after reading since of these though, i guess i shouldn't get my hopes up ha. Great job everyone

[treadhead]

Here's mine

 

The recently constructed (Being barely a century old at the time) warlord titan Vetus ferrei globi won his name in the service of Lord Inquisitor Nyxos of the ordo xenos on the blazing savannahs of Latos upon the planet Englia during the mid years of M37.

 

Englia was settled by chance after a colony ship was blown off course by a warp storm and emerged already dangerously close to the uncharted planet leaving the crew no choice but to attempt a landing with their ailing ship.

Roughly one hundred and fifty years after the settlers of Englia first arrived another ship was blown into the system by a warp storm this time though it wasn't human but an ork kill krooza, although badly damaged it managed to make planet fall somewhere in the mountainous center of Latos the human population was unprepared for the ork onslaught and were forced to retreat before it falling back into the grasslands to the south of the continent.

The human defenders were on the verge of giving up hope when a vox signal was received from a fleet approaching the planet, Lord Inquisitor Nyxos of the ordo xenos had been tracking the surviving orks for nearly two years after he had crushed the warboss snik'urus dakka's impending waagh before it could really get started, they would arrive within the week all the humanity of Englia rejoiced at the news that the Emperor hadn't forsaken them after all, meanwhile the orks were preparing for the final push that would wipe humanity from the face of the planet.

The orks were taken unawares by the Lord Inquisitors forces dropping from orbit and deploying behind them on the savannahs where they were crushed between the defenses of the human settlements and the allies of the Lord Inquisitor.

 

It was during this action that the name Vetus ferrei globi was first uttered it soon became a rallying cry to the beleaguered human defenders of the world it was believed to have been inspired by the pair of censers hanging in place of his honor banner

With the threat ended the planet was welcomed back into the imperial fold by the Lord Inquisitor and soon life had returned to normal although the orks weren't completely wiped out and several war bands escaped into the mountainous regions of the planet where they remain until this day occasionally venturing forth to wreak havoc and take slaves.

[Kaldoth]

Highly doubt I'll win with this entry, but here's what I submitted:

Titan Name: Nox Aeternum "The Kinslayer"

 

 

"Princeps, I have confirmation! Its the Nox!"

 

Harastus Alepi, Princeps of the Warhound titan Sola Aeternum, leaned forward in the command throne of his god-machine. Dismissing the hololith displays in front of him, he strained to see past the cloud of battlefield detritus masking the scarlet viewports that made up the titan's deathly gaze. Damn the auspex, he thought silently. He wanted to see it. He had to see it with his own eyes.

 

As the fog of rockrete began to wane, the lumbering form of another titan solidified in the thinning maelstrom of debris. In that moment, staring through the ruby eyes of the Sola Aeternum was like looking into a twisted mirror realm of hatred and corruption. Another Warhound titan stood in front of its sister with lowered weapons, as if taunting the crew to charge.

 

The Nox Aeternum, sister to the Sola, had been felled during the battle of Istvaan V. Unbeknownst to the retreating Legio Atarus, the Legio Mortis had recovered and salvaged the scout titan. For nearly ten millenia the Nox, now a perverse shadow of its former glory, had terrorized countless battlefields. It had even claimed the souls of thirteen other titan crews. A banner of stitched flesh, red with bloody symbols, had kept the tally.

 

Alepi’s eyes shook erratically as he extended his will throughout his titan’s systems. The hololith displays flickered back into existence as the gravity of the moment finally dawned upon him. He grinned as he realized ten thousand years of heresy and murder would be ended by his hand in violent, beautiful retribution.

 

Princeps Alepi willed the Sola Aeternum forward for a full three steps before massive explosions broke the ground beneath its feet. The Warhound stumbled forward, giant pistons grinding in protest as its void shields failed and its lupine legs bent and crashed beneath it. Had Alepi not vainly dismissed his hololith readouts, he might have seen the auspex sweep that had found the magma charges that mined the road.

 

Concussed and bleeding, Alepi craned his head to look through the viewports, the Sola sympathetically moving its head to look upward. The nose of the wolf-faced war god touched the barrel of a massive plasma cannon. Behind the weapon, the Nox looked down at its sister with a hollow, uncaring gaze. The world was enveloped in white light, and then eternal night took them.

[Lagrath]

Highly doubt I'll win with this entry, but here's what I submitted:

Titan Name: Nox Aeternum "The Kinslayer"

 

 

"Princeps, I have confirmation! Its the Nox!"

 

Harastus Alepi, Princeps of the Warhound titan Sola Aeternum, leaned forward in the command throne of his god-machine. Dismissing the hololith displays in front of him, he strained to see past the cloud of battlefield detritus masking the scarlet viewports that made up the titan's deathly gaze. Damn the auspex, he thought silently. He wanted to see it. He had to see it with his own eyes.

 

As the fog of rockrete began to wane, the lumbering form of another titan solidified in the thinning maelstrom of debris. In that moment, staring through the ruby eyes of the Sola Aeternum was like looking into a twisted mirror realm of hatred and corruption. Another Warhound titan stood in front of its sister with lowered weapons, as if taunting the crew to charge.

 

The Nox Aeternum, sister to the Sola, had been felled during the battle of Istvaan V. Unbeknownst to the retreating Legio Atarus, the Legio Mortis had recovered and salvaged the scout titan. For nearly ten millenia the Nox, now a perverse shadow of its former glory, had terrorized countless battlefields. It had even claimed the souls of thirteen other titan crews. A banner of stitched flesh, red with bloody symbols, had kept the tally.

 

Alepi’s eyes shook erratically as he extended his will throughout his titan’s systems. The hololith displays flickered back into existence as the gravity of the moment finally dawned upon him. He grinned as he realized ten thousand years of heresy and murder would be ended by his hand in violent, beautiful retribution.

 

Princeps Alepi willed the Sola Aeternum forward for a full three steps before massive explosions broke the ground beneath its feet. The Warhound stumbled forward, giant pistons grinding in protest as its void shields failed and its lupine legs bent and crashed beneath it. Had Alepi not vainly dismissed his hololith readouts, he might have seen the auspex sweep that had found the magma charges that mined the road.

 

Concussed and bleeding, Alepi craned his head to look through the viewports, the Sola sympathetically moving its head to look upward. The nose of the wolf-faced war god touched the barrel of a massive plasma cannon. Behind the weapon, the Nox looked down at its sister with a hollow, uncaring gaze. The world was enveloped in white light, and then eternal night took them.

 

I like this concept a lot! I think some of the sentences and turns of phrases could have been tightened up a bit to make the final product even better, but I like all the different parts to this story. Watch your step!