+++Timeless Sagas: Örlendr+++

[Gàidheal Rìgh]

"A Tale Of A Vlka Fenryka Claw, Inspired By Ancient Celts, Their Mythology And Their Odds With The Legion."

Upon wings of Iron, they came from the dark sky
Their minds broken and bodies numbed
Örlendr twists and turns, sleepless in its nights
  Their Annelsa, hidden from their eyes

Morkai! Wolf with Two Heads, Guardian of the Gates of Death
Your souls are mine to eat, destiny awaits
Örlendr, eyes burning bright, you fought with all your might
You staved off your imminent fates, Bloodgeld awaits.

 

 

"Events Can Be Lamented, But Yet Still Be Right"

 

 

+++The Remains Of Glory+++
19:17:56 734004.M31

The ebbing winds of the bittersweet battle began to dissipate. Once brilliant marble white towers and structures had pierced the skies, but no longer. The dust and smoke gave way to cracked palaces and homes. Archways lay broken, their plaques of words of wisdom and of emotion shattered into nothing. The skies were a tortured multitude of colors, that cried at you to stop looking, lest you slip into the deep forever. Streets were littered with the warriors of Wolf and Scarab. The only just visible limbs and torsos of families lay under the rock and rubble, the sparkling white contaminated with their crimson life. The street suddenly given life as a tiny figure, covered in white dust ran sobbing. However, silence took a hold again, as a golden armored figure deftly intercepted and cut the thread of life forever. Face first, the tiny life fell into the street, it's life ebbing away onto the cobbled road. The golden statue rolled it over with its foot, almost as big, to confirm it's kill, almost like it was a rodent.
"It was just a child"
"No more."

A grey glad warrior, stepped out from beneath the doorway of a ruined building. His white hood draped over a mask of death. It walked towards the other down the street, a slight limp was noticeable as he used his staff as a stick. His vox grill letting out his raspy almost labored breathing. Midnight black feathers and avian skulls hung from the staff and his armour, marking him as one of the priests. Stopping in the middle of street, the two warriors stared at each other. The sense of unease and frayed nerves hung high in the air. 

"I know of you... Senán." The statue said.
The grey warrior gripped his staff, his hairs raising on the back of his neck. Strategies formed within his head, of a lost battle should he decide to wage one against the Emperors finest.
"You did not need to kill her."
"Our orders were clear. No survivors." The Custodian turned and began to walk, trudging through the debris in search of more survivors. 
Senán came to the side of the small child, she was still rapidly breathing, but didn't have long left to live. The wound to deep and too severe to heal, even with his abilities. She reminded him of him. She was just too...frail. He cupped her head and laid his hand upon her chest, easing her passing from this world to the next. 

"So as all things come to end, may you begin again." Her last breath escaped from her lungs as he laid her head back down. He sighed heavily. This should never have happened. This... battle should not have come to pass, yet it needed to be so. The conflicted thoughts wracked his head as he rose and turned to walk down the same street he had been following for hours.

 

 

 

Senán is oft considered the first "Outsider" from the planet of Fenris. The only one picked from his tribe to sail the sea of stars, he has hunted for many a year with the Vlka Fenryka. His psyker abilities are great, perhaps rivalling even the greatest of any of the priests, however his very outsider nature has kept him secluded from the rest of the priests. Despite his shunning, his powers have been tempered by an old, but sound mind. His tribes attributes instilling within him a will of adamantium. Perhaps his greatest achievements and tragedy may be the 3rd Rangdan Xenocide. In the midst of fighting within the xenos home world, he found his fellow warriors cut down and cut in half by hulking monstrosities. Should the xenos break through him, the Vlka Fenryka would have been flanked and perhaps even badly blooded. No one is party to what happened besides Senán himself, of which he never spoke of. When he was found, the air was foul with sorcery, and the smoking remains of Rangdan lay about him. Senán himself was badly broken, in body but not of mind. His power armour was further modified for further life support, but he has not entirely recovered from his injuries and never will. He can still be seen, hunched over and walking among the warriors of Russ, with a slight limp and his staff used as a stick. None jeer or chide him, for many know his sacrifices. 

 

[Montuhotep]

Oooh, very nice. This one has promise - it's a rich background to tap into, is Celtic Myth, that conversion of Maloghurst is neat beginning.

 

[Pearson73]

What a fantastic and sinister looking fellow, love to see folk tapping into the darker side of the Rout.