Upon Ebon Wings - The Siege of Terra

[Dagoth Ur]

Semper Fidelis

 

 

Have you ever read of angels descending in peace with offerings of love and unity? Hardly. They are bloody-handed servants of a vengeful god who tolerates none besides himself. We may call them slaves, fanatics, blinded or any other slur beneath Sol. But in the end, we all fear them.

Not the First, not the vaunted Dark Angels, but the Ninth. Those that march clad in ruby and ebony, whose eyes weep as they slaughter the rebellious. Those who always flew above us, who were envied even by the Third.

True, they were neither His praetorians nor were they His children, they were something else entirely.

The Ninth was the Angeli Sanguis.

They were the Blood Angels.

 

Dying confession of an Iron Warrior

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170416_001834_zpsrqnj83jv.jpg

+++Pict-Capture of Legionnaire Dante, Squad Aventinus of the XIV^th Host "The Blood Drinkers", at the Defence of Oxitania+++

 

Ragnarök. The Judgement Day. Yawm al-akhar. Dagor Dagorath. Or, to put it simply, the War to end all Wars. I was there, at the Siege of Terra. Wish I had died, but I didn't. Tylo, Ruvian, Halcyus. My crop-brethren. They died around me, in my arms, beneath my feet. I could do naught to save them. It had dawned on me then, that the Astartes were never created to save anyone. We were created to kill, to destroy, to ransack and pillage and burn and unmake. After nearly two centuries of service, it only now dawns upon me. I was a weapon.

My name is Khale Otracharis, son of Terra.

This is the tale of many things.

Of the Siege.

Of my company.

Of how my Father died.

Of how the Emperor was slain.

And with him His empire.

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170416_001502_zpsr8hnaozi.jpg

+++Dante, having served faithfully for one and a half centuries, has distingtuished himself for his aim and tactical acumen. Had history embarked upon a different course, he might have become a seeker or even vigilator of the Ninth.+++

 

Many would call me brave. then again, what is bravery if any sense or semblance of fear has been ripped out of your innermost wiring. Is a man truly brave if he can't act like a coward? Is a man truly good if he can't act upon his evil desires? A good question. i had read it once in a book about citrus fruits with chronometric properties.

I don't think that I am brave, not truly. Maybe I was once, during the Great Crusade. How distant it now seems. How optimistic. I miss those days. Not for the glories, but for the comfort that they offered in hindsight. Nobody thought of fighting a war against his cousins. Well, apart from the World Eaters and the Space Wolves, but the former was insane and the latter stuck its nose too deep into other peoples' affairs and then yelled foul game when they got told off. It was so much easier. We, the Astartes against rebel and alien. EVen if simple men could betray us, we had each other.

Now, not even that remains.

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170416_001639_zpsviqpqvcc.jpg

+++Note the use of an Oath of Moment. Inscription is unclear and the pict-feed does not allow for accurate reconstruction.+++

 

I suppose we won the Siege, even if it is a hollow and bitter victory. We won all and yet lost everything. Even now, I see the Imperium that I helped building wither away. Corruption, mistrust and the bickering of men too old to rule and to stubborn to die and give rest.

You may think me bitter, dearest reader, and you'd be right. I am bitter. I am filled with hate. Hate against the traitors that dared to revolt for petty reasons. Hatred against Horus, the thrice-cursed brood of Cthonia. Hatred against Safyk, my cousin of the Sons of Horus, who I loved like a brother and killed with my bare hands. Hatred against my father, as he failed to slay the Archtraitor. Hatred against this rotting empire. Hatred against the High Lords who only seek to stuff their own bellies.

Hatred against myself, because I cannot change anything.

Hatred against myself, because I cannot undo the past.

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170416_001759_zpsfutdeghs.jpg

+++Ropes were a common ornament of the Ninth legion as a whole. It is theorised that the fabrication of one's own cords was used as a meditative excercise. The vial appears to be filled with a liquid similar to water, although refractive analysis shows a high sodium and chloride content, potentially tears. Can Astartes cry?+++

 

I can remember marching through the orange dust of the Yropean Plateau. I can remember the wars we fought beneath the snowy Scands, deep within its frozen bowels. My bones still ache, my muscles still burn with lactic shock. It was a brutal war, slaughter without bounds. Many of us perished. Many angels flew for the last time. Many fists were unfallen no more. Many a Chogorian's laughter ceased forever.

Jerugei and Gerhardt, my shield-brothers. I still have your pendants. We will meet again and if fate permits, soon. But first I must commit to paper what will inevitably be forgotten.

The last glorious stand of the Imperium of Mankind.

The war that shall echo through the ages.

The Siege of Terra.

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[Laughingman]

Excellent story telling, keep up the good work, I look forward to future posts.

[Aeternus]

Looking good! Especially liking the text alongside it.