Blood Angels In the company of death. The battle of Augustus 47

[sarabando]

 

Ramiel sighed as the still smouldering body of their last remaining astropath was dragged from the command centre.

"Well, that settles it, we are truly alone."

"Two dozen sub orbital craft, a handful of planet skippers." One of the auxilia officers read off a data slate. "We could make it to a handful of the other worlds or moons in the system."

Ramiel snorted.

"If any other world had the capability to carry life, we would already be there.

A murmur ran through the command post, Astartes officers and the mortals of the 411th Sanguine lifeguard both showing their unease.

 

 

A figure in black stepped into the corpselight of the tactical display.

Chaplain Selephiel his armour painted the sable black with crimson crosses, the ancient Baalite symbol of those who have resigned themselves to death in service. Around him, his followers too wore the black, his great executioners axe glinted in the darkness.

"Our hand is forced then, no more thoughts of withdrawal or survival. Only death, ours and theirs."

"I see you have already dressed for the occasion." Asbeel the moritat chuckled.

"Your levity is unwanted." The chaplain banged the pommle of his axe, the cave floor.

"I am not dying on this dustball!" Growled the crimson clad moritat.

Two black clad veterans stepped between the moritat and the chaplain, their lightening claws crackled a sickly green.

The moritat turned to face them slowly.

Ramiels metallic hand pressed against the moritat's breastplate.

"Leave them holstered, we have too few brothers remaining to waste on petty infighting." He glared back at the chaplain. "The Night Lords have taken more than enough of our brothers. It is time we repaid the debt."

The chaplain turned and left his retinue in tow.

"You know the men are starting to see things his way." Asbeel warned, the Praetor nodded.

"Deploy the lifeguard, we need to secure a water source as soon as possible." The praetor ordered. "And....find me some of that damned black paint."

 

 

 

 

[Firedrake Cordova]

They look great

[Xenith]

Real nice, normally I'm not a fan of the DC scheme in 30k, I'm still not, but you've executed it beautifully. 

[sarabando]

Castiel worked tirelessly at his work, around him other lesser apothecaries carried out their duties. His alabaster armour was caked in grime and dried blood as he worked his arms a blur.

Stabilisation runes flashed green across his vision as the vitals of the patient normalised. Without a word he stepped away letting another apothecary close the injured man's wounds, antiseptic mist erupted from the skull tipped mechadendrite he wore, blasting his arms clean before he started working on the next patient.

He had saved thirty four lives today it was his duty as a Primus medicae to set the example and he would ensure death knew its place today.

[Firedrake Cordova]

Looks good to me, and I like that you're adding background to your models

[The Praetorian of Inwit]

That looks very cool. Very clean. I like how you've done the metal on the gun barrel. It just looks right. 

[sarabando]

 

The battle was going badly, the Night lords had been reinforced with a seemingly unending number of local militia. They were stretched thin trying to supplement the local forces to protect the mechanicum assets and more importantly the few viable water sources. 

Earlier in the night the main camp had been hit hard, driven into the caves deeper under the main settlement, a group of surviving civilians surrounded the Astarte whimpering in hushed tones. They had moved through the dark until they reached a deep chasm, refracted light trickled down from the surface above just raising the ambient light levels above pitch black. 

The solar auxilia set up a triage station, the elderly and wounded were secured and a perimeter was established. 

A dull thump preceded a dust cloud as an Auxilia demolition team brought up the rear sealing the tunnel behind them. 

 

"Nothing is getting through there m'lord." Reported the section’s commander, throwing a quick salute. 

"Yes, including us." Said Eleleth, his voice thick with sarcasm. 

The mortal engineer opened his mouth to defend the actions of his men but was cut off by a heavy gauntlet landing on his shoulder. The librarian Gamaliel waved the criticism away dismissively. "The commander acted on experience and need, and our survival was more immediate than our escape." 

The crimson clad psyker stifled any complaints by holding up his hand. 

 

"Commander, you will take stock of the locals and your men." The auxilia officer nodded and departed. "Sargent Raphael you will take stock of our brothers and munitions, and I shall attempt to reach command."

The survivors dispersed to their duties as the librarian took a seat on a polished smooth stone plateau. He sat cross legged eyes closed pushing the distractions of the world out of his mind. He reached out with his mind, a tiny bright light slipping through the cracks of the world. He could feel dark shadows around him, some were the twisted hate of the Night lords hunting down those poor souls who had become lost and separated from the main group. He slipped by these dark blots on the universe unseen, other shadows were older, darker and could see him. They turned their gaze towards him and he felt a cold unlike any he had ever experienced run through his veins. He slipped past, deeper into the expansive cave system. He couldn't find the lord commander, nor his staff. But there! Below deeper and deeper was something, a feeling, the tug of emotions emanating from the warm stone itself. Hope. 

 

He opened his eyes, releasing a breath that condensed around him like a Fenrisian morning. There was a local boy no older than ten stood before him. The boy was shivering. 

 

"What is this?" The boy asked. 

Gamaliel thought for a moment on how to explain the depth of the warp to a mere child. 

"Cold." Answered the armoured giant. 

"What is cold?" Asked the boy rubbing his arms for warmth. 

"It..." Gamaliel stopped unsure how to explain to a boy who's world was as hot at night as most worlds dreamed of being in the height of summer. "It is cold." He stated flatly. The boy pondered for a moment, nodded accepting the explanation and bowed before running off to a gaggle of civilians.  

 

"Commander." He spoke into his vox link "Gather the local elders, I have questions about the deeper tunnels and their contents, and tell them I will need a guide."

 

 

The local boy led Gamaliel by the hand through the cave. The light streamed through the cracks in the ceiling. 

"It's not sunlight." Stated Eleleth flatly. "We are at least two miles below the surface." Daniel nodded in agreement but not quite understanding. The streams of light were a perfect simulacrum of sunlight, even his helmet's auto senses were fooled. 

"Just ahead Ahura!" The boy said excitedly, tugging at Gamaliel's armoured gauntlet. 

"Hold." Spoke Gamaliel holding up his fist, the party froze in silence. Non verbal hand signals passed between the Librarian and his compatriots in total silence. 

"Contact?" Signed Eleleth.

"Unsure." Came the reply. "The warp." Signed the Librarian. The insinuation made their stomachs turn, instinctively they raised their weapons.

"What is happening?" Asked the local boy obliviously, Recon sergeant Daniel held a finger to his lips to indicate the boy's silence. It took a moment but then he nodded in understanding. 

"Forward, carefully." The veteran warrior signed. 

 

They crept forward, their boots making barely a sound on the deep sand that lined the cavern's floor. 

As they turned the corner the cavern opened up in front of them, the rough worn stone blended perfectly from the warm yellow sandstone to a polished black marble. Ranks of unmoving automata, and war machines stood undisturbed. They had found caches of archeotech all over the world, it was the very reason for their presence on this blasted world but this was different, older. 

They crept past the motionless cybernetic warriors, their weapons smoothly moving to cover each one as they passed, muscles bunched and wound tight in case the mechanical beings showed even a miniscule movement. 

Ahead of them a grand staircase ascended to a pair of polished silver doors, a fresco engraved upon them told a story of rebellion and regret that was familiar to the angels. 

The librarian ran a gauntleted hand over the design. 

"They are men of iron." The Blood Angels tightened up their formation around him. "At ease brothers." He turned to the nearest automata, bending to pick up a small rounded cylinder at its feet. "They ejected their power cores. They are as dead as this world." He returned the long dead battery to its resting place. 

"They are sworn enemies of mankind." Growled Eleleth. 

Gamaliel shook his head, and pointed at the fresco. 

"No." The librarian stated flatly, turning back to the embossed saga. Tracing the story with a ceramite clad hand. "These machines, they fought to defend humanity, and failed." He traced the story along scenes of monsters and gods, of stars being devoured by a serpent and a wolf-like creature, there were embossed designs that were clearly xenos he recognised, Eldar, Greenskins, and many he didn't. "They built a weapon, a new god but even it failed." 

The Astartes shifted nervously at the ideas of divinity, even in recent weeks with the experiences at the hands

of the Night lords witches. 

A golden figure was the centre of the design, surrounded by lesser men of iron lines of glittering sapphire ran from the hearts of the long dead warriors to their new god. 

"They couldn't save their masters, so they hid the survivors in the caves....and." He stopped. "Emperor protect us." He breathed. 

"What is it brother?" Asked Daniel. 

"They moved the local stars." The librarian said in disbelief "They pulled the trinary stars around the world to shield it from..." He gestured at the embossed serpent "..whatever that was." He continued to read, reaching the fine seam in the door. The golden figure sat upon a throne held a shield surrounded with the men of iron knelt around him. "It appears the machines gave their lives to this figure." 

"Mass suicide." Breathed Eleleth with a hint of disgust at the weakness. "A weak machine race, no wonder we are masters of the galaxy." His tone of superiority cut off as his chest plate erupted in gore splashing crimson on the silver door. 

The door made a noise, a dull slow cracking like pack ice before it broke, a warning tugged at the librarian's mind, behind them!

 

"Down!" Barked Gamaliel bringing his pistol around, spitting fire at the shadows. Around him the fellow angels moved into firing positions looking for targets. Dark shapes illuminated briefly by muzzle flash crept towards them. 

The Librarian's eyes glowed with fire as wind whipped around him, the sand in the chamber becoming a wailing storm, the coarse sand wore the finish of the silent automata back to bare metal. Polished briefly before the metal buckled and wore away. The Night lords advanced, their midnight blue armour stripped of colour in an instant. The first bare ceramite clad figure dropped to his knees shrieking as the abrasive cyclone shredded his flesh.   

Daniel grabbed the local boy and raced back up towards the opening door, bolter rounds exploded the polished stone around him throwing razor sharp chips in all directions. 

"Gamaliel we must fall back!" He shouted over the howling winds. He tossed the boy like he weighed nothing into the dark before swinging his long nemesis bolter around and dropping two dark shapes before the optic had time to focus. 

Beyond the whirlwind dark shapes coalesced into a larger form that slammed against the roaring wall of sand and grit which thudded like a fat drum. Again thumped the figure, pushed through the conflagration. The hulking form of a contemptor dreadnought , a leering tusked death mask turned its grimace towards the Blood angels. 

"Back!" Ordered the librarian dropping his arms, the storm dissipated instantly. 

Two legionnaires raced up either side of the librarian both wielding deadly meltaguns that howled as they poured superheated gases into the warmachine. The dreadnought howled in pain as its armour ran liquid. It swung its arms at the trio wildly, the warriors dodging the blow with lightning reflexes. One of the legionnaires rolled onto his back and emptied his meltagun into the giant's conversion beamer making the weapons burst with a shower of sparks and liquid metal. 

Gamaliel grabbed the fallen warrior and dragged him from under the crashing feet of the stricken beast. 

Angels raced up the stairs leapfrogging from cover turning to cover their compatriots as they moved, Daniel was the last to fall back into the darkness as crimson clad warriors slammed the heavy silvered doors shut. 

A dull grey green light grew from unseen sources all around them, the survivors piled artefacts of incalculable value against the door like common furniture as the darkness retreated revealing the cavern they now occupied. Stacked high with treasures of immeasurable wealth lay strewn around them.

Gamaliel looked around the room, great columns as wide as land raiders and taller than he could see reached up into an unending darkness above him, gossamer fine drapes descended like phantoms drifting and fluttering despite there being no breeze. Two of his men were sitting to the side, their injuries being treated by the apothecary Agiel. Daniel was shouting orders and barricading the door, as Rikbiel hefted his heavy bolter onto the lid of a wide golden chest that was the centre of his makeshift gun nest. The crates were made mostly of auramite and would have made this campaign worth it alone. The Librarian looked around for the local guide, the boy was staring at the centre of the room and its prior sole occupant.

As the light grew Gamaliel finally saw the raised dais that sat in the centre of the hall. Bundles of wires and cables, long snaking glass like lines that pulsed with a pale grey green light lead towards the platform and a wide, high backed throne carved from the same polished black marble. Upon the throne sat a silver figure taller than a man, and twice as broad.  

The shouting lessened as the others noticed the figure, some instinctively raising their weapons but quickly dropping them. The figure sat upon a great golden throne, bathed in light. The gathered astartes dropped to their knees as the  great beings turned their eyes across them. 

Sanguinius the great angel spread his wings wide. 

"My sons." He said his voice was soft and angelic, it made Gamaliel's eyes itch, he shook his head trying to shake the image from his mind. He looked up at the figure, silver not golden, gold blond hair and beautiful. No. Thought the librarian shaking his head again. Inhuman, false, artificial. The words screamed at him, the creature howled at him false and wrong. 

"What do you see Daniel?" Breathed Gamaliel. 

"The Angel himself sire." Said the reconnaissance officer, disengaging the locks on his helmet and letting it drop to the floor, there were tears running down his face. 

"And you men?" He asked as others crept forward, their answer the same. 

 

"My lord, how can you be here?" Daniel was mesmerised before the being. 

Gamaliel scrunched his face in pain, he was unable to look at the being, like two magnets with the same poles facing his vision slid off the giant when he tried. He was barely able to see it out of the corner of his vision and what he saw was not his father. 

 

"You came to save us lord?" Asked another legionary. 

"No." Wheezed the librarian dropping to his knees the pain in his head was crippling. 

"stop fighting my child." The voice appeared in his head, it wasn't heard more so it was just there. "I am here to help you." Images of a parent guiding a child, a hound protecting its master, a deity guiding its people flashing in his mind. "I am for you." A shield, a sword, the images flashed faster and faster. 

 

"No!" Shouted the librarian swinging his force weapon around aflame. "That cannot be my genefather! I refuse you imposter! Abomination!" The gathered angels turned to face their leader unsure of his actions. Before they could test their loyalty the door exploded inwards one of the doors weighing several hundred tonnes at least broke free completely and was propelled towards the ersatz angel. With a flash he stood spear in hand, the door sliced in half landing either side of him with a ringing bell like clang. 

"Come my sons.” It said its lips were not moving as it spoke, its voice flat, lifeless but warming as it continued. “Let us teach these traitors the meaning of fear!" It bellowed, a cheer from the marines responded to the crack of bolter fire.  

Now fully formed to Gamaliel as a perfect chrome simulacrum of the master of the ninth it raised its weapon and led the charge into the roiling smoke.   

The librarian fell to his knees, his weapon clattered away from him, his body ached, his mind ravaged by the effort of his resistance. He focused on breathing, on keeping down the contents of his stomachs. 

There was the sound of a weapon being dragged over the glossy stone floor, he tried to raise up to meet his doom. The local boy was there; the astarte realised he didn't even know the boy's name. The child held the weapon in both hands struggling with the weight. He offered it to the librarian who took it firmly. 

"What did you see when you looked at him?" He asked, afraid of the answer. 

"Cold." Said the boy shivering.  

 

[Firedrake Cordova]

Looks great

[Pearson73]

Really excellent stuff!

 

Love the weathering and builds, the three characters in the first post are particularly cool. 

 

This ghostly image of the Primarch is very nicely done too.