Win a Titan story thread-post here!

[Kaldoth]

 

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!

Anything in particular you could point out? I love writing and I'm always open to C&C :)

[Davekunes]

The first winner's story was posted here: https://www.forgeworld.co.uk/en-BE/blog/blog.jsp 

 

Fingers crossed for everyone!

[Ovidius Incertus]

Here is my submission, scant chance of winning though it be.  My interpretation of the contest was perhaps more nuanced, but the intent was to show a Warhound that was fox-like in its cunning, hence the name Alopex, which is Greek for fox.  (Ignore the lack of indents!)

 

So here it is:

 

Few principes would ever consider making their god machines leap; fewer still would try.  But none who knew Princeps Fuchsin and her Alopex would think such a feat outside the realm of possibility. 

After hours of punishing battle, Alopex had already assisted her brood-brother’s engine, Ulvsblakk, in destroying a Traitor Reaver by drawing it into a pack ambush, and she had tallied an engine kill of her own: vulpine cunning had lured a tainted Warhound to its death in the confines of a demolished manufactorum, crushing it under tons of rubble after a carefully placed fusillade obliterated the building’s structural columns.

The sounds of engine combat still thundered in the distance as other gods shattered the world around them with their duels.  But Alopex crouched in the dark, listening, reactor near shutdown levels and heatsinks closed to prevent detection.  Sweat dripped down Fuchsin’s woad-painted face as the cockpit warmed to dangerous levels, reactor bleed shunted back into the Titan’s frame while its heatsinks were offline.

Outside, battling engines drew near and she heard Ulvsblakk’s pained howl in the Manifold.  It was wounded.  Badly.  Her reactor flared to life and Alopex loped through the manufactorum’s surviving upper stories, emerging above the Titans warring in an open loading dock below.  A traitor Warlord, Rite of Slaughter, had cored one Reaver through with its Volcano cannons and taken the arm of Ulvsblakk, which stumbled like a newborn pup on unsure legs.

From above, she surveyed the scene as she stalked closer to her brother’s attacker.  Fuchsin sent nanosecond datablurt to Ulvsblakk.  Her warhorns keened, the first trace of the huntress registered by Rite of Slaughter, which turned hungrily to welcome its next sacrifice.  At that moment, with the last of its strength, Ulvsblakk’s melta cannon spat nucleonic fire, followed instantly by Alopex’s full panoply.  Voids bruised and flickered before failing.

Hydraulic fluids pressurized to dangerous levels, pistons rammed--and Alopex leapt. 

None who saw it would call it graceful (indeed, it was more half-controlled fall than leap) when the Warhound’s bulk slammed into the towering god machine’s shoulder.  Rite of Slaughter tottered to one side and fell to the rubble; not even a Warlord could withstand such an impact.  Alopex limped on battered legs toward its prey. Her megabolter brayed, emptying into the struggling giant’s command bridge.

As Rite of Slaughter’s hulk smoked amongst the ruins, Alopex’s warhorns screeched: “Engine kill.”

[KBA]

These last two entries have been really fun to read :)

[Lagrath]

Here is my submission, scant chance of winning though it be.  My interpretation of the contest was perhaps more nuanced, but the intent was to show a Warhound that was fox-like in its cunning, hence the name Alopex, which is Greek for fox.  (Ignore the lack of indents!)

 

So here it is:

 

Few principes would ever consider making their god machines leap; fewer still would try.  But none who knew Princeps Fuchsin and her Alopex would think such a feat outside the realm of possibility. 

After hours of punishing battle, Alopex had already assisted her brood-brother’s engine, Ulvsblakk, in destroying a Traitor Reaver by drawing it into a pack ambush, and she had tallied an engine kill of her own: vulpine cunning had lured a tainted Warhound to its death in the confines of a demolished manufactorum, crushing it under tons of rubble after a carefully placed fusillade obliterated the building’s structural columns.

The sounds of engine combat still thundered in the distance as other gods shattered the world around them with their duels.  But Alopex crouched in the dark, listening, reactor near shutdown levels and heatsinks closed to prevent detection.  Sweat dripped down Fuchsin’s woad-painted face as the cockpit warmed to dangerous levels, reactor bleed shunted back into the Titan’s frame while its heatsinks were offline.

Outside, battling engines drew near and she heard Ulvsblakk’s pained howl in the Manifold.  It was wounded.  Badly.  Her reactor flared to life and Alopex loped through the manufactorum’s surviving upper stories, emerging above the Titans warring in an open loading dock below.  A traitor Warlord, Rite of Slaughter, had cored one Reaver through with its Volcano cannons and taken the arm of Ulvsblakk, which stumbled like a newborn pup on unsure legs.

From above, she surveyed the scene as she stalked closer to her brother’s attacker.  Fuchsin sent nanosecond datablurt to Ulvsblakk.  Her warhorns keened, the first trace of the huntress registered by Rite of Slaughter, which turned hungrily to welcome its next sacrifice.  At that moment, with the last of its strength, Ulvsblakk’s melta cannon spat nucleonic fire, followed instantly by Alopex’s full panoply.  Voids bruised and flickered before failing.

Hydraulic fluids pressurized to dangerous levels, pistons rammed--and Alopex leapt. 

None who saw it would call it graceful (indeed, it was more half-controlled fall than leap) when the Warhound’s bulk slammed into the towering god machine’s shoulder.  Rite of Slaughter tottered to one side and fell to the rubble; not even a Warlord could withstand such an impact.  Alopex limped on battered legs toward its prey. Her megabolter brayed, emptying into the struggling giant’s command bridge.

As Rite of Slaughter’s hulk smoked amongst the ruins, Alopex’s warhorns screeched: “Engine kill.”

 

I really like this story. Just as worthy as the two winners so far. Fingers crossed for you!

[Col.hertford]

Here was my stab at it. I had to leave a lot on the cutting room floor. Originally there were two warlords, but only the second kill is presented. Another casualty was the conversation between the crew. And yes the bolt cannons are on the front of the warlord model... still, maybe next year right?

 

Titan Name: Custodi tempestas (Storm Warden), The Warden of Lost Spirits. LEGIO TEMPESTUS

 

The Vigil

 

Warlord ‘Custodi tempestas’ stood silent vigil over its fallen brother. The broken form of his brother Titan ‘Lucendi signifer’ that lay at the Warlords feet while rain flowed in torrents from the fractured azure and checkerboard carapace. The Reaver’s crew were killed by the mind impulse unit overload that felled the titan. Princep Seniorus Decimus Kamarov of Legio Tempestus looked without seeing, the Warlord’s autosenses and machine spirit merged with his increase his awareness of his surroundings. Tech priests swarmed over the felled god machine. It had been declared salvageable and would march again. There was nothing left of Reaver’s opponent, ‘Custodi tempestas’ had made the Legio Mortis traitor Reaver pay.

 

A shiver ran down Decimus’s spine, engaging emergency protocols he raised his shields and powered up weapons. A salvo from behind overloaded the void shield generators. The energy read out was from a titan. Decimus put ‘Custodi tempestas’ into a run, first forward and then down a side street. It was a gamble leaving the wreck, but he doubt anyone, even a Princep from Legio Mortis would waste time on a downed titan with a fully operation Warlord Titan near.

 

“Vigil interrupted... Traitor Titan encountered... ‘Custodi tempestas’ engaging”

 

His adversary was moving parallel to him down streets, a row of large ruins separating them. Decimus increased his speed to maximum, the enemy did likewise. ‘Custodi tempestas’ turned abruptly and crashed through the ruins, a dangerous manoeuvre, even for a battle titan.

 

The enemy titan, a warlord clad in sable but for the head coloured as bone, was taken by surprised desperately wheeling to avoid him. Decimus reached out with his power-fist and caught the arm of the fleeing titan. The terrible grinding and sheering sound set Decimus teeth on edge as the power fist pistons and actuators engaged to full strength, the arm was shorn from the Legio Mortis Warlord. ‘Custodi tempestas’ fired its volcano cannon and laser blasters fired point blank. The Traitor reeled badly damaged. The power-fist again tore at the stricken machines hip, pistons fountaining scared oils as they failed. The leg parted from the hip and the Mortis titan slowly toppled sideways landing face down. The Warlord turned to walk away as the enemy crew emerged from the wreck. The rear mounted bolt cannons fired throwing the traitors like ragdolls.

 

“Traitor Titan destroyed... no survivors... wreck salvageable... 'Custodi tempestas' returning to vigil”

[ElectricPaladin]

As promised, here's my story:

 

• • •

 

Shortly after the Dropsite Massacre, a battered group of Salamanders arrived at the Forgeworld of Atar-Median carrying grim tidings of Horus’s treachery and the slaughter of War Maniple Red Naga. Most importantly, the Salamanders brought with them the salvaged remains of several Legio Atarus titans and the mortal remains of their princeps and moderatii. 

 

In thanks, Grand Master Erwin Malky commanded the forges of Atar-Median to resupply the surviving Salamanders. Unbeknownst to the Salamanders, Grand Master Malky also ordered a titan currently under construction rededicated as Draco Invictus. Some of the components the Salamanders had salvaged were included in its frame. In addition to the crimson armor and flaming blade of the Legio Atarus, Draco Invictus’s heraldry incorporated a green shoulder plate emblazoned with the drake’s head of the Salamanders legion.

 

The titan took several years to complete, during which the Salamanders were unaware of the honor being done them. This was rectified at the Battle of Hammerfall. The same Salamanders who had honored the remains of War Maniple Red Naga had been trapped in the ruined city of Thoth’s Hammer on Ephos III. Encumbered by the city’s refugee population and surrounded by a superior force of Night Lords and World Eaters, the loyalists were determined to sell their lives dearly. The sudden arrival of Draco Invictus and an entourage of Knights from the Col’Khak Collective, vassal of the Legio Atarus, turned the tide.

 

Draco Invictus and its escort accompanied the Salamanders as they continued their race towards Terra. The traitors soon gave their own names to Draco Invictus, which the titan’s crew adopted as badges of honor: the Dragon Encarmine, the Wrath of Nocturne, and the Talon of Vulkan, among others. The titan developed a reputation for fighting on despite terrible damage, and once destroyed Interitus Rex, a titan of the Legio Mortis by clubbing it repeatedly with the barrel of an inoperable ranged weapon. Some superstitious mortals whispered that Draco Invictus was imbued with the rage of the fallen titans used in its construction.

 

The mighty machine was finally laid low at the Battle of Terra. True to its name, however, Draco Invictus was recovered and rebuilt by forge fathers of the Salamanders and tech-priests of the Legio Atarus. To this day, Draco Invictus is seconded to the Salamanders chapter and stands as a symbol of their friendship with the Legio Atarus.

 

• • •

 

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Feedback?

[Epimetheus13]

Here's my piece! I like the idea but not the ending. But it was still fun to write!

 

Titan Name: Nox Nauseae

 

The story:

 

“Wake up, recruit! On your feet – sleeping on the watch is a capital offense, ya know. You’d best count your blessings it was me that discovered you, not Commissar Ren. Trust me, you’d rather have Ol’ Night creep up on you in the dark then let the Commissar have his way…

 

"Oh, you scoff, eh? Ah, you think Old Night is just a myth, something to scare the conscripts with. Listen up good, lad, because it’s all true – I know that Loathesome Night is real. I know, because I’ve met him. Back when he was the Casus Belli…before he turned his back on the Emperor.

 

"I stood honour guard at Grand Muster before we made the warp-jump to this blasted planet. It was a privilege to have Princeps Caleb Vidan and his Warhound Titan on our side – rumour had it, Casus Belli hadn’t fought in generations, not since Vidan’s great-grandfather, Thracken Vidan, had helmed the Warhound to sweep a ‘Stealer infestation from Hive Bloor. But here he stood now. I’d never seen a Princeps in the flesh…he had a pronounced bony brow, and his face was flushed as a Terran plum – but who knows what being plugged into those Titans will do to ya, and I’ve seen worse on commanding officers. But you tell anyone I said so, I’ll drag you to Commissar Ren myself!

 

It was the Siege of St. Clare that he showed his true colours. We’d fought hard all day, and just as the sun set, Vidan lanced his turbo-lasers through the back of the Domina Obstinata. I’ll never forget the cold terror of seeing the Reaver Titan fall, or watching that Warhound turn and unleash hell on our troops. It was a rout all the way back to Fort Keele with Casus Belli snapping at our heels in the darkness; our only light the fire of burning tanks, and gouts of laser and plasma.

 

"High Command rechristened him after that – Casus Belli became the Nox Nauseae. That’s “Loathesome Night” to you lad, and well-earned it was too. As if Spooks and ‘Stealers weren’t enough, now we have Ol’ Night hunting us, lying in ambush like he was one of them. Damned if I know what makes a man turn, but – wait…what was that – quiet, lad!

 

"If he’s here….pray it ends quickly. The hunt…being preyed on…not knowing when and where he is…that’s the true horror…”

[KBA]

As promised, here's my story:

 

 

 

• • •

Shortly after the Dropsite Massacre, a battered group of Salamanders arrived at the Forgeworld of Atar-Median carrying grim tidings of Horus’s treachery and the slaughter of War Maniple Red Naga. Most importantly, the Salamanders brought with them the salvaged remains of several Legio Atarus titans and the mortal remains of their princeps and moderatii.

 

In thanks, Grand Master Erwin Malky commanded the forges of Atar-Median to resupply the surviving Salamanders. Unbeknownst to the Salamanders, Grand Master Malky also ordered a titan currently under construction rededicated as Draco Invictus. Some of the components the Salamanders had salvaged were included in its frame. In addition to the crimson armor and flaming blade of the Legio Atarus, Draco Invictus’s heraldry incorporated a green shoulder plate emblazoned with the drake’s head of the Salamanders legion.

 

The titan took several years to complete, during which the Salamanders were unaware of the honor being done them. This was rectified at the Battle of Hammerfall. The same Salamanders who had honored the remains of War Maniple Red Naga had been trapped in the ruined city of Thoth’s Hammer on Ephos III. Encumbered by the city’s refugee population and surrounded by a superior force of Night Lords and World Eaters, the loyalists were determined to sell their lives dearly. The sudden arrival of Draco Invictus and an entourage of Knights from the Col’Khak Collective, vassal of the Legio Atarus, turned the tide.

 

Draco Invictus and its escort accompanied the Salamanders as they continued their race towards Terra. The traitors soon gave their own names to Draco Invictus, which the titan’s crew adopted as badges of honor: the Dragon Encarmine, the Wrath of Nocturne, and the Talon of Vulkan, among others. The titan developed a reputation for fighting on despite terrible damage, and once destroyed Interitus Rex, a titan of the Legio Mortis by clubbing it repeatedly with the barrel of an inoperable ranged weapon. Some superstitious mortals whispered that Draco Invictus was imbued with the rage of the fallen titans used in its construction.

 

The mighty machine was finally laid low at the Battle of Terra. True to its name, however, Draco Invictus was recovered and rebuilt by forge fathers of the Salamanders and tech-priests of the Legio Atarus. To this day, Draco Invictus is seconded to the Salamanders chapter and stands as a symbol of their friendship with the Legio Atarus.

 

 

• • •

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Feedback?

I dug your story, EP . As far as a narrative point-in-history piece goes, it was engaging. And quite fitting. The idea of forge masters like the sallies gathering the parts for reforging, and then helping with the reforge was quite a cool, cohesive idea. Not my favorite format, but I liked your story :)

[ElectricPaladin]

As promised, here's my story:

• • •

Shortly after the Dropsite Massacre, a battered group of Salamanders arrived at the Forgeworld of Atar-Median carrying grim tidings of Horus’s treachery and the slaughter of War Maniple Red Naga. Most importantly, the Salamanders brought with them the salvaged remains of several Legio Atarus titans and the mortal remains of their princeps and moderatii.

In thanks, Grand Master Erwin Malky commanded the forges of Atar-Median to resupply the surviving Salamanders. Unbeknownst to the Salamanders, Grand Master Malky also ordered a titan currently under construction rededicated as Draco Invictus. Some of the components the Salamanders had salvaged were included in its frame. In addition to the crimson armor and flaming blade of the Legio Atarus, Draco Invictus’s heraldry incorporated a green shoulder plate emblazoned with the drake’s head of the Salamanders legion.

The titan took several years to complete, during which the Salamanders were unaware of the honor being done them. This was rectified at the Battle of Hammerfall. The same Salamanders who had honored the remains of War Maniple Red Naga had been trapped in the ruined city of Thoth’s Hammer on Ephos III. Encumbered by the city’s refugee population and surrounded by a superior force of Night Lords and World Eaters, the loyalists were determined to sell their lives dearly. The sudden arrival of Draco Invictus and an entourage of Knights from the Col’Khak Collective, vassal of the Legio Atarus, turned the tide.

Draco Invictus and its escort accompanied the Salamanders as they continued their race towards Terra. The traitors soon gave their own names to Draco Invictus, which the titan’s crew adopted as badges of honor: the Dragon Encarmine, the Wrath of Nocturne, and the Talon of Vulkan, among others. The titan developed a reputation for fighting on despite terrible damage, and once destroyed Interitus Rex, a titan of the Legio Mortis by clubbing it repeatedly with the barrel of an inoperable ranged weapon. Some superstitious mortals whispered that Draco Invictus was imbued with the rage of the fallen titans used in its construction.

The mighty machine was finally laid low at the Battle of Terra. True to its name, however, Draco Invictus was recovered and rebuilt by forge fathers of the Salamanders and tech-priests of the Legio Atarus. To this day, Draco Invictus is seconded to the Salamanders chapter and stands as a symbol of their friendship with the Legio Atarus.

• • •

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Feedback?

I dug your story, EP . As far as a narrative point-in-history piece goes, it was engaging. And quite fitting. The idea of forge masters like the sallies gathering the parts for reforging, and then helping with the reforge was quite a cool, cohesive idea. Not my favorite format, but I liked your story

Yeah... I was one of those who interpreted Forgeworld's request as "tell us the entire story of how your titan earned its fame" rather than a particular heroic incident. I'll err more in that direction next year!

[KBA]

Now that the contest is over, I'll post my story pretty well as I sent it, minus slight tinkering in that final paragraph :)

 

 

All machines have names. Princeps Khodessa felt that blunt, old tenant sharply breach the spinal plug at the base of his skull along with the intertwined rope of sensory cables which interfaced him with It. It didn’t have a name. To the Tech-Adepts of Rygaard, he was piloting e26199iij, Reaver-class, and while that identifier adequately served any archival purpose, here in the baptism of blood and fire it was simply a stamp on a manufactorum plate. As with all titans from Rygaard, titles were not given: they were earned. The connection with the newly constructed God-Machine began like the tales of ancient vudu Khodessa read as a child. Its legs became his. So, too, did its arms. Its eyes, many times Khodessa’s in number and magnification, were his also. Its databanks and memory were—No. Something was wrong.

 

Princeps Khodessa felt a nudge of neural pushback. It began to slowly ping.

 

‘Slight sync variance detected. Shall we abort, sir?’

 

‘Negative, Moderatus. Every newborn babe cries. Proceed.’

 

Through years of testing, Khodessa had proven the titan’s sentient mind-core conclusively stable. The beast’s knee had been bent. But still the ping continued. The young titan felt inquisitive; each ping was a stab into the Princeps’ mind. From stabbing to pounding, the thumping ping continued like the hot pulse of a waking giant. Suddenly, Khodessa winced. Blindingly bright images wept from his mind’s eye. His Legio’s banner: torn, tattered, and aflame. His Grandmaster’s machine form: crushed, crumpled, and lifeless. The reflections of Princeps Khodessa’s deepest and darkest fears arrived and departed with the ping. The final vision was of his home, Rygaard. The sky ablaze with unnatural colours; the air toxic from rot. The oil canals bleeding crimson; the forges’ symmetrical beauty perversely misshapen. Abruptly, Khodessa broke out of the trance, the ping now gone.

 

‘Sir! All targets destroyed per your orders! Cooling down laser blasters.’

 

‘My orders? What are you—,’

 

Khodessa hastily studied the readouts, sweat forming on his brow. Three Terran hours had passed. In moments. How!? The battle was won. Savagely so. Not with perceptive cunning, but rather blind hatred.

 

***

 

All monsters have names. Princeps Khodessa felt that unforgiving truth coldly breach the spinal plug at the base of his skull along with the arcane tool that would repurpose him into servitor. Legio war-horns bellowed in celebration nearby. e26199iij had received title. Die Iudicii. Day of Judgment.

[Vorenus]

Does anyone know where we can find the winning entries? I Googled it but got no joy. The link up above is dead (404 error).

[librisrouge]

Figured I'd post mine:

Fidelis Gladio had not always been it name. Indeed, its true name was lost to the histories, though those of the Mechanicum had their suspicions. It was known which of the legion’s titans had been there after all. By decree of the Collegia Titanica, those titans were dead though, their work finished and their rest earned. From now on, it was only Fidelis Gladio.

The system of Limen was a minor collection of planets beneath Terra on the galactic plane and would likely have been able to ride out the cataclysmic conflict of the Heresy in obscurity had it not possessed a single defining quality, the presence of a forge world that chose to remain loyal to Mars. Such a planet to his army’s rear was a threat the Warmaster could not abide and the VIII Legion, the dreaded Night Lords, were unleashed to win their compliance.

The truth is the magi of Limen did not even know they were at war until it was too late. First, it was servitors, then menials and lesser priests of the Machine God. They disappeared, their work unfinished but otherwise undisturbed. As the hours and days moved on, it became clear that the disappearances were not a series of accidents, some unseen force was amongst them, killing and murdering without any seeming pattern besides opportunity. Of course, measures were taken, and skitarii patrols, confident in their training, arms, and armor, patrolled the streets and causeways, hoping to keep the peace and enforce the Imperial rule. They too began to disappear.

Fear had firmly set in by that point. Fear which would undo us all.

Archmagos Jessep, may his skin tarnish and his flesh slough, saved himself. As their warships finally appeared in system, we rejoiced. An enemy we could see was an enemy we could kill. Our forces marched from the forges to meet them in honorable battle. It was not to be. Their drop ships never came and our own ships went to meet them, filled traitors to Mars who sought to save themselves.

Then the fire rained.

Our forges burned and our people died. Even God-machine could not survive the destruction wrought upon the planet, our defenses compromised by the fleeing traitors. Still, time heals and even iron can be reclaimed. Now, the hunt begins and steel will demand blood repayment. Fidelis Gladio would see to that.