Innocentes...

[Captain_Krash]

Well here we are again...2 hours after painting a Storm Giants Contemptor dreadnought I get this...hope you enjoy. Storm Giants are a suspected Salamander successor chapter that share many traits that they have, incase you don't know  Feedback always welcomed and encouraged!!! May make this a short series if people are interested. This side of the board doesn't get much traffic it seems

 

Innocentes

 

It had been days. Or had it been weeks? No, only days. Brother Torin couldn't remember. He always seemed to lose track of time when under stress. His hulking adamantium-plated frame continued trudging through the forest, holding his massive hand close to his chest. Looking down into his arm, the servos and joints whirred and clicked ever so slightly to bring the arm up and closer to head-level. Delicately wrapped in his tabard was a child and her knapsack. As he walked along he gazed down at her. She couldn't be more than a few years old. Surprised she was comfortable enough to sleep in his cold metal gauntlet, he gingerly lowered his hand again and clutched her to his carapace. After what she had been through, the young girl deserved some sleep - as did Torin. Though he never liked admitting it, being active for days on end with no rest wore on him. While awake, he would join his brothers during their rites and training, even sitting in on the joyous feasts when he could - but every few days he would rest to regain his fortitude. The ever-faithful and closest companion he had was brother Claytus, the techmarine that volunteered to keep Torin in working order at all times. Out here in the forest, marching on eastward toward the bastion, brother Claytus was not around - and the child needed the dreadnought for survival.

 

Torin was distracted from these distant thoughts by the muffled sound of a yawn. Carefully moving his hand from his armored breastplate once more, he glanced at the young girl. She rubbed her eyes and let out another tiny yawn. The sight and sound of such innocence brought a smile to what was left of Torin's face, and for a moment he forgot his worries. The girl grabbed the knapsack, rummaged around inside for a minute, and pulled out a small piece of bread. Hungrily wolfing the bread down, she grabbed one of Torin's cold metal fingers to hoist herself to her feet. For a moment she stood in his cupped hand, surveying the trees and mountains around them. Finally she turned back around and said a single word; "Water?" She rarely spoke, but he noted that when she did, she was straight to the point. Scanning the surrounding terrain with his partially damaged optical sensors, he noticed a small nearby mountain dipping into a shallow valley. If there were any place to find a creek, this would be it. He strained his auditory suite, picking up the faint babbling of a stream. Indeed there was water there. Turning his hulking frame, he began to move slowly into the valley.

 

Kneeling down at the edge of the small stream, Torin placed his gauntlet on the ground and extended his fingers to allow the child an easy ramp right down to the cool water. She almost slipped as she threw herself to the edge of his hand before taking a deep breath and plunging her whole face into the cold current. Torin didn't understand this action, but as long as she was happy, he would not argue. After a second or two passed, the young girl lifted her head back out of the water and rubbed her face with the edge of his tabard. Cupping her hands she began to drink and drink until he was certain the girl could drink no more. She finally rocked herself back from his fingertips into the palm of his hand. Wrapping herself once again in his tabard almost like an oversized robe she turned and smiled at the shining white helmet of her dreadnought companion. Torin felt his heart melt a little. He only wished he could have saved her parents as well.

 

As he stood back up and turned eastward again, Torin found his mind drifting. Step by step he exited the shallow valley and began to plod along between the tall, white oaken trees of the forest with his passenger in tow. Occasionally glancing down at the child to make sure she was comfortable, he could not keep himself from reflecting upon the horrible night that brought the two together. The trip should have gone smoothly - the citizens of Euria were never afraid to call upon the aid of the Storm Giants when signs of warpspawn activity appeared. In Torin's case, a small homestead out in the western mountains requested the aid of a few Giants to investigate suspicious activity and strange sounds from the woods. Most of the time these concerns were warranted, but nothing more than a few cultists who would be swiftly dispatched without worry - the few times daemons were summoned, the Storm Giants were not slow to react and quickly banished the warpspawn and their followers back into the darkness. Not wanting to allow the raising of suspicion with the inquisition, by keeping the reports within the chapters records. 

 

This homestead lay further west than most others - secluded in the woods, about a day's walk from the nearest neighbor or township. Upon arriving, Torin and his battle-brothers spread out along the farm, searching high and low for chaos icons or any trace of cult activity. Finding the usual evidence here and there, a few trees carved with the mark of Slaanesh, a few burned-out campsites with footprints, all seemed normal until the tracks began to become erratic. New footprints were found, with three claw-tipped toes as well as marks of something, or someone, being dragged deeper into the woods.

 

That night, a neighboring house went dark. No communication, no warning. Dispatching five of the six marines accompanying him, Torin and his battle-brother stood watch all the following day and night. The family of three decided not to go deeply into the fields or woods, sticking close to the house and their defenders. Torin assumed any trouble that arrived could be handled by his trusty volkite culverin.

If only things had gone so smoothly. In the night they came, wailing like banshees and lunatics. Cultists underfoot of the horrid daemonettes came in waves from all directions. Torin watched as they cut down his battle brother, who had eaten through his bolter ammo and reserves and now used a combat knife to slay the beasts and their worshipers. Torin himself fired his culverin non-stop and tore through the warp-tainted forces with his power fist until the survivors fled shrieking into the depths of the forest. He wished he could pursue them to put an end to this threat, but he had not survived the battle without taking damage himself. During the melee a daemonette took advantage of his focus on its underlings to leap on his back and tear into anything that its claw could rend. Slamming his back into the heavy ferrocrete walls of the homestead, Torin crushed the daemonette and threw the foul corpse into the midst of the fighting. This display of ferocity from the ancient war machine was enough to shock the tainted cultists and break their will - and after crushing four more daemonettes in his titanic powerfist and vaporizing another three with his culverin, the warpspawn finally broke as well, following the cultists retreat into the trees.

 

The battle had lasted for an hour, but plenty of damage had been done in such a short amount of time. As Torin looked over the remains, scattered bolter shell casings, and ashes of traitors and the trees around them alike, he found the body of his battle-brother. He wished he could recall the marine's name. Cradling his lifeless body, Torin said a prayer to the Emperor before setting him down gently, crossing the fallen marine's arms across his chest. Kneeling beside his battle-brother, he took a moment to remember how bravely the Giants fought against overwhelming odds, slaying four of the beasts himself and countless cultists along the way. He would tell the story of these heroics for ages to come. He had forgotten the fallen brother's name, but Torin knew he was a recent recruit. Perhaps it would bolster the confidence of future initiates to hear how such a fresh marine, just out of his scouting days, held off some of the foulest daemons the people of Euria had ever seen.

 

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an incredibly soft and quiet noise - his slightly damaged audio receptors were picking up the trace of sounds from inside the house. Standing and lumbering around the side of the house, he peered into the doorway, too small for his frame to fit inside. His heart sank at the sight greeting him - there, over the corpses of her parents, stood their daughter holding her head in her hands and quietly sobbing. She fell to her knees and shook her papa's shoulder, calling for him to wake up. There was no response. She turned her attention to her mother, but again, there was no response. The gentle weeping turned into uncontrollable sobbing before she noticed the silhouette of the onlooker. For a moment she fumbled back, mind racing and frightened by the shadow before Torin spoke to her. "It's alright, little one. I am a friend." The deep vox voice startled her a bit, but the words seemed to resonate within her.

 

When the girl finally trusted him enough to approach, he offered his hand to her. Nervously she reached out to touch it, but stopped just short. She was still uncertain, even if the initial fear had gone. Torin had not seen her before the battle, as she wasn't outside during their arrival and investigation. He understood her hesitance. To her young distressed mind, he must have been a terrifying sight to behold. Standing back up outside the doorway, he reached over his shoulder and tore off his tabard, damaged from the night before. Balling it up in his hand, Torin bent back down towards the door and reached in, offering the soft, silken cloth to the girl. She stepped forward once more and gingerly felt the material before she finally touched his hand. Coming into contact with his cold metal must have built some sense of trust to her. If she could reach out and touch him, he must be real. If he hadn't tried to harm her yet, he must be a friend. She retreated once more into the darkened house, only illuminated by a blinking light dangling from it's casing. After a moment or two she re-appeared, dragging a small, drab-colored fabric knapsack. Grabbing the pack with both hands, she hoisted it up into his outstretched palm before clambering up herself.

 

Standing back from the door frame, he lifted the young girl up to eye level with him. "I am Torin. Who are you?" he said, trying to speak as softly as he could into the vox machine that now represented his voice. The girl did not reply, only backed away shyly. He decided he would give her a bit more time before inquiring anything further about her. As she studied him out of the corner of her eye, she fumbled with the flap of the knapsack. Finally opening it, she reached inside, fumbling around until she found her target. She withdrew her arm and slowly raised her hand to offer him a crumbling piece of bread. Torin wheezed laughter into the vox, which startled the child for a moment before realizing that the metal behemoth was chuckling. "No, I cannot eat it, but thank you for the offer." Inside his armored head, the old marine smiled. "You had better save that for yourself."

 

A twig snapped under Torin's heavy foot and momentarily broke his concentration. Coming to a stop he scanned the area, and made sure he was still heading east towards his chapter's bastion. The only heat signatures he picked up were his passenger and the few birds in the trees that occasionally chattered back and forth to each other in the distance. This eased his nerves a bit - should the cultists and their daemons return, he would be handicapped having to hold the child in his close-combat arm and rely only on his volkite culverin to fight them off. Hopefully he would be in range of the bastion's local sensor grid soon and his brothers would dispatch a rescue party. Until then, the girl was his responsibility. Glancing back down at his passenger, who had propped herself up on his fingertips once again, he felt a small droplet of happiness fall into the sea of worry at the back of his mind. He would protect her, no matter the cost. This child had grown close to his heart in the past few days - and though she was still overwhelmed by her loss, he could tell she was beginning to feel safer around him. Looking back up at the forest surrounding him, he corrected his course ever slightly, and marched onwards towards home.

 

(CHOOOOM!!!! Sorry I just had too)

 

Thanks folks! 

 

Krash

Edited December 15, 2017 by Captain_Krash