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Okay, I've just finished writing this story based on my first battle using my new Tau Empire Army.
It took me quite a while, but I've eventually finished it. So without any more of be buttering the moment, I'll now unleash it upon the residents of LO, Enjoy!
“Fight for the Greater Good and victory shall be yours”.
Those were the last words of their beloved Ethereal. Words of the young Fire Warrior’s initiation to full trooper status no less than two days ago, he was so excited to finally be in the fires of battle without ever being under the wing of a Fire Caste Supervisor. This will be his chance to gain the honour he deserved. This is where the Fire Caste is meant to belong.
The crowded Devilfish rocked and shuddered as it wrestled with the powerful winds. It’s cold, sharp grip scraping along the smooth, resplendent surface of this beautiful machine as it cut through the air like a forgotten spirit riding on a carpet of fire.
His Fire Warrior Battlesuit vibrated and tingled as he sat on the small bench, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Fire Warriors, the great power of the Devilfish’s Anti-Gravity engines mixed together with the harsh winds outside. Their mixed sounds roaring, even through the airtight environment of which he is seated, the gale-force winds tearing aimlessly like a great beast eager to snatch whoever could be foolish enough to step outside.
The young Shas’la looked around the cramped confines of the transport dominated by the large, bulky forms of the Tau Veterans. Whose experience and long life in this seemingly endless battle was shown on the armour that they wore, pits and scars riddled their armour where each has a story played by it’s bearer, that made each and every one of them truly unique.
Snowbane, the oldest Veterans called this planet. Hidden as a small gem of white glinting with a malicious glare, a tiny jewel far to the north of their glorious Empire, far enough to be separated from any hope of relief or recovery as their slowly dwindling Contingent prepared to die. To the last man.
‘You alright kid?’, a rough voice abruptly stirred the young Fire Warrior from his wonderings, ‘You better not let the Shas’ui Team Leader catch you doing that, she will put you under report’.
‘Yes sir. I mean, sorry sir’ the young Fire Warrior responded with a dry throat. Trying hard not to let his emotions give his thoughts away.
‘This your first battle kid?’
‘no- I mean, a little, sir’.
‘Don’t “sir” me kid’, the Shas’ui chuckled with a grunt, ‘I am a rank and file Warrior too. No need to call us out of courtesy, we are both basically the same rank. Stick with me I will look after you, these Reek are mighty tough. Even with the power of our weapons’.
The Veteran turned to face him, ‘surely you must have heard the many wars against the Reek? Have they taught you anything about them at the Academies?’ he grumbled in curiosity.
The Young Fire Warrior shook his head slowly, not knowing the meaning of such a name.
‘Heh’ Grunted the Veteran, ‘they do not train them like they used to…’ he sighed.
‘What are they?’ the young Fire Warrior asked, obviously stirred over the meaning of the name.
‘The Reek are apparently the first hostile aliens our founding ancestors have discovered, they infested most of our systems in the first place, even the Vicious Kroot have been overthrown.’
He looked around for the Team Leader, the Veteran has got his helmet on but the Young Fire Warrior knew that he was nervous by the movement of his head.
‘These Reek are not to be taken lightly’ the Veteran bent forwards with a whisper, ‘they grow as big as an XV8 Crisis Battlesuit and as tough as a small brick house. Their weapons are inferior to ours so we have an advantage over them, loose a few slugs into their heads just to make sure they stay down!’.
‘Shas’ui!’ bellowed a strong voice that shook the Young Fire Warrior to straighten his back to attention, a bold shadow loomed over them, making his skin turn cold in its darkness, ‘Giving a few pointers to our new recruit Shas’ui?’.
‘Yes ma‘am, I-’
‘Just remember your track record Shas’ui’, warned the Team Leader ‘You have done enough damage to this Cadre already! Keep your sly remarks and conversation until your leave, not on the field of battle. Understood?’.
‘Yes ma’am’ Grunted the Veteran.
‘Shas’la’ said the Team Leader, ‘stay close to the Squad. I do not want your backside drifting in the snow’.
‘Yes ma’am’ nodded the Shas’la.
‘We are approaching our final destination. Prepare for disembarkation in 45 Decs!’ bellowed the Shas’ui Team Leader as she pulled up her Pulse Rifle into her arms, before she pushed her way towards the Devilfish’s pilot. Disappearing amongst the press of armoured bodies like a ghost.
‘I wonder what stung her…’ the Veteran snorted, before checking his Pulse rifle once again.
The Shas’la ignored the Veteran’s angry rambling, still he can’t blame him over the humiliation of being reminded of his past in front of his Squad. Whatever is on the Shas’ui Team Leader’s mind, it can’t be good.********
Strong winds screamed across the hard snow, throwing up a frozen powder in its wake as it swept across a land of beauty untouched for a thousand years. A flawless white covering the smooth landscape like a silk sheet; fragile and peaceful to the untrained eye.
Far to the south lies a limitless plain of a great mountain range, whose age and size is far greater then a mere mortal. For millennia they had watched the world around them with eyeless faces, listening to each other and the world around them as the rushing wind carried their wordless messages to their brethren.
Their peaks penetrating the low clouds swirling around them in cold blankets, embracing their seemingly limitless wisdom as they silently predicted another step in their inevitable evolution. As an unknown force of nature is approaching from the East.
The smooth surface of this land is broken by ugly structures, spoiling this white haven as it lies as a hollowed out shell of its former glory. The vengeful wind battering itself tirelessly against the buildings’ bulk since the beginning of its existence.
It lies as a small pest, a blemish that cannot be removed without a scar. Which would take many long centuries to cover, let alone extinguish completely.
On a nearby rock, thick strands of grass raised out in conscience with each strand capped with an icy blue as it rose out of a mound of snow.
A shrill call melded into the coming wind howling in warning above it, before several more thick strands of grass arose out of similar mounds of ice and snow. Occasionally a mound would start shaking momentarily before ceasing a few seconds later.
In the light of the blue sun, a flash of light was reflected on the furthermost patch of strange grass. It was an eye, unmoving with the colour of a soulless grey, glinted slightly as it lay fixed on the outpost before it before screeching once more as it sensed another rush of wind.
Ick’kyl the Brave, watched patiently, holding his beloved Kroot Rifle in his frozen claws as it lay buried under the hard snow. The Blue Skins had been very generous to his kind for many generations, giving them these powerful gifts as tokens of friendship. They are mighty indeed these Blue Skins, Ick’kyl thought. As he has witnessed their power many times as they fought in skins of metal with weapons of light and fire, he was grateful that he wasn’t fighting against them after witnessing what power they held.
A clumsy roar bellowed overhead, disrupting the natural flow of Snowbane’s winds, as the light of the ground they were amongst fell dark. Stained as pillars of fire and smoke roared above them like a beast tormented with pain.
Clumsy Blue Skins, thought Ick’kyl as he could feel the presence of a mighty being baring down on them.
‘Hold your place Hunter-Brothers’ shrieked Ick’kyl, trying not to allow his cover to reveal his position as a great thud rippled through him as he lay on the small rock. His eye darted toward the impostor on his left, and was relieved to see that it was the titanic form of a Battlesuit.
The sun’s cold gaze washed against the Battlesuit’s mechanical skin, it’s metallic green and silver colours shone in the light, resplendent as though it was an Ancestor-Spirit of Ick’kyl’s kind.
It stood swaying in the sharp wind, it’s head twisting from side to side with hisses of it’s mechanical muscles, flexing it’s tremendous power for the coming fight.
Ick’kyl tensed as he could sense the filthy taste of the enemy. Disgusting fuels of their crude technologies stirring the natural sound of the shrieking wind, from beyond the horizon, peaked the dark silhouettes of their primitive enemy. Shouting coarse words coupled with the heavy rumbling of ill-kept vehicles.
He hissed in anger at their presence and the damage they had done to their honourable kind, tens of generations extinguished before him at the hands of such a brutal race.
A race that should not be allowed to live.
The Battlesuit noticed the enemies presence shortly after, it’s powerful weapons flaring into life as they are readied. With Missiles locked and Burst Cannon spinning, it leapt into the air with a single bound melting ice and snow within a single moment’s touch, before solidifying once more.
Time has come, thought Ick’kyl, his muscles tensed, his grip grew tighter on his rifle as he felt the thrill of battle overcome him.
‘Hunter-Brothers! Let the hunt begin!’ he howled, as he burst from the small mound of snow in an explosion of white powder, shortly followed by many more of his kind trying to keep up with their Hunter-Leader, crying out their cries for battle with their sound as cold as the wind.********
‘Forwards!’ shouted the Shas’ui Team Leader as Snowbane’s cruel light spilled into the Passenger compartment, packed with Veteran Fire Warriors swaying from side to side in their disciplined lines. Clutching Pulse Rifles in gloved hands as they stepped up to jump into the wall of blinding blue light, each one disappearing as though they never existed.
‘Here we go kid’ shouted the Veteran towards the Young Fire Warrior, his voice stained with enthusiasm that made him feel uneasy, ‘this is going to be fun!’.
The Young Fire Warrior merely nodded in approval, even though his stomach now felt as if it’s caving in with a painful lurch.
The two Fire Warriors before him melded into the light, screaming with painful winds broken by the bark of gunfire pattering against the Devilfish’s armour like a hard rain.
The cold, slicing wind tore through the large rear doorway and into the Young Fire Warrior, pushing him backwards at such a brutal feeling, even the armour and the undersuit that he wore is no proof against such hostile climates.
‘Come on Shas’la!’ bellowed a Veteran before him, perched on the edge of the doorway, ‘we cannot let them have all the fun!’, and with those words, he disappeared into the curtain of dazzling light.
With a deep breath, the Shas’la leapt with his Pulse Rifle held before him with his heart thumping hard enough to break his chest.
He looked around blankly, searching for any members of his squad as a mix of winds battered into him carrying small, hard flakes of ice pattering off of his helmet as glistening shards of silver.
The heartless blue sun of Snowbane is blocked by the Devilfish as it rose towards the heavens, tens of feet above him as it wrestled with the strong winds on pillars of fire.
He could see the remains of an abandoned collection of small buildings, stationed strangely in the middle of nowhere. It’s features disguised as Snowbane tried to claim it over the countless centuries.
‘Reek! Bearing 010 on the other side of that building.’ called the Shas’ui Team Leader, her voice crackling through the Vox in his ear, ‘Execute Class 2 firing pattern, fire when ready!’.
The Young Fire Warrior’s vision slowly blurred into detail, relieved to see his squad members at just an arm’s length away. He jogged towards his predetermined position in the firing line, icy winds chilling his flesh to the bone as he painfully leaned forwards into the strong winds.
The Fire Warriors were arranged in two neat rows, with the first knelt into the snow. The Devilfish roared overhead; it’s Burst Cannon whirring in rage with the encased drones snapping out of their holders with tiny sparks of power, firing as they had disengaged from their parent vehicle.
Then he saw them.
The Young Fire Warrior sensed movement in the corner of his eye, great dark forms running out to meet them. He held his breath as he saw them; great beasts of a savage nature filled his Pulse Rifle’s sights with their massive forms. Their uncontrolled muscles bulging out of powerfully built frames of green flesh designed for their senseless religion.
‘They’ve got anti-tank weapons! New bearing; 330,’ yelled the Shas’ui Team Leader in alarm, ‘Bring them down. Now!’.
The Shas’la swung his rifle in a short arc towards a small group of well equipped Reek, roaring with battle lust as they darted from behind the other side of the building complex. Squeezing the trigger as soon as he had one of them in his sights, shortly followed by the rest of his squad.
Their shots, made invisible against the blue rays of Snowbane’s alien sun, fell amongst them as an angry rain. With their hides exploding with scorched flesh as most of them found their mark, ripping off limbs and blowing chunks out of their hides, they fell on the cold ground dead before they could feel Snowbane’s cold touch.
In a matter of seconds, their remains lay scattered as a scattering of darkened filth, already solidifying their blood into crystals and their flesh, hardening as the crying wind rushed to claim them.********
Shas’ui Coldblade twisted in his Battlesuit’s cockpit, thrown from an unseen impact at an arm’s length behind the thick shell he now sat within. His arms danced across the controls before him as he let his training take over him with expert speed, the small monitors flashed back on, displaying huge lists of data; detailing what damage that he had just sustained.
With a flick of his wrist he opened a Long-range Comm-link,
‘Command Centre Winter’s Flower, I have arrived at destination 6217-76-B’ Coldblade spoke into the Comm-link, his voice clear and intelligent, ‘I have engaged the Enemy, where is the Fire Warrior team that I have requested?’.
There was a brief music of distortion before a reply came in, ‘Shas’ui Coldblade, the Fire Warrior Team should be there shortly. Implement evasive manoeuvres until the convoy arrives. Command Out’.
‘Copy that Command, implementing evasive manoeuvres’ replied the Shas’ui before disconnecting the Comm-link with another flick of his wrist.
Sprinting beside him, he could see the Kroot nimbly bounding in short leaps of their thin limbs with their leader at the fore. He twisted the controls of the Optical Sensors to follow their movements before ranging far ahead to see their destination, a large group of the enemy were also charging forwards in greater numbers than that of the Kroot, crying guttural war cries and coarse gestures spoiling the natural flow of the land.
‘Stupid fool, what is he doing?’ Coldblade muttered under his breath as he placed his hands around the small controls of his Battlesuit’s mighty weapons.
A small chime cried in alarm, tearing his attention from the monitors. The Battlesuit’s senses had noticed heavy movements of Mechanical Heavy Infantry smashing it’s way clumsily through the sheeted metal of the long dead building, bearing weapons far inferior to Coldblade’s own.
It’s crude limbs hissed as it lumbered forwards with oil and smoke belching from behind it as a heavy weapon was pointed towards him with a high pitched whine, his Battlesuit chimed in increased urgency as it warned Coldblade of the Mech’s weapons locking on.
Flashes of smoke obscured his Battlesuit’s vision before massive impacts cracked across his Battlesuit’s chest, tearing great holes across its beautiful hide and blackening the once resplendent colours of his glorious Sept. the world of which he now stands upon.
Coldblade was thrown brutally within the cramped cockpit of his Battlesuit, his head slamming against a low corner to his left. His vision started to blur and dim as unconsciousness started to overcome him, he groaned defiantly, resisting the urge to let this warm feeling take him. He forced his eyes open, but all he could see was the dark shapes of his Battlesuits cockpit.
Slowly, his vision ceased to dim as he heaved himself forwards out of the recesses of his chair. His arms felt limp and his head throbbing within his heavy skull as he tried to focus his vision towards the flashing contents of the monitor before him with glazed eyes.
One screen was left functioning as he gradually realised that the Battlesuit was momentarily offline for the purposes of preservation, he could see through the flickering screen, the advancing enemy coming ever closer with their silent war cries and brutal blades of rusting serrated edges.
He could see the barely recognised remains of several Kroot, littered before him with their fragile forms twisted and gnarled from gunfire. Coldblade’s eyesight was back, made sore with the roaring headache behind them taunting his eye’s every movement.
The Reek was almost upon him as they sprinted towards him with every one of their eyes bearing into his skull, showing to him of his coming fate in every pair, as they surged towards him with their crude weapons cradled in their arms.
Coldblade tugged on his controls in desperation, pressing every button and flicking every switch as he tried in vain to start it’s systems. But none of them eased his despair as he knew that the Battlesuit’s systems needed time before they come back online.
‘Oh no…’ he whimpered from dry lips, as uncontrolled feelings escaped him.
The last thing he saw was hundreds of sparks of flame leaping towards him, pattering throughout his mighty form with a few ripped through the exposed vents of his powerful Jetpack, before unleashing the contained power within.
Then all he could witness was light and flame.********
The great shadow of the Devilfish screamed overhead, as the Young Fire Warrior fed his Pulse Rifle another magazine before levelling it towards the bulky forms of the green skinned Reek, their forms toppling into the snow with great chunks ripped from their flesh.
He jolted in recoil at the great strength of his weapon as it spat a brilliant blue goblet slicing into his prey, rejoicing this moment as he finally made it onto the field of battle. Fighting on the front lines and ultimately for the Greater Good.
An explosion shook the ground beneath the Shas’la, as he bathed in the orange light of it in long seconds, stalling his firing pattern as it’s violent sound rippled through him even though it came from a distance behind him.
A Piranha flew behind the frozen building on horizontal stripes of fire at great speed, like the very tip of a grand spear. Before another great explosion shuddered throughout the nearby building, shattering a spray of its debris high into the air, as a crude pile of twisted metal crashed into the ground as a raging fireball, engulfing several of the green skins in its fury.
The Young Fire Warrior snapped back into the fire fight, finding himself mercilessly firing into the greenskin’s lines without hesitating with clenched teeth. His mind was tainted with visions of their death throes as they finally succumbed to their horrific injuries.
The Reek’s numbers dwindling, the Shas’la advanced with instinct, following the Veterans as they advanced with solid disciplinary bursts of fire, his Warrior heart thumping along with the beat of battle as they and their convoy surrounded the enemy for one final blow.
The Reek fired aimlessly towards the Devilfish in desperation as their numbers fell like flies, their pitiful rounds pinging off its clean surface along with the icy wind that it wrestled with. A carpet of bodies littered the once flawless white ground with their tangled remains, where every one that fell, revealed the huge bulk that dwarfed even those of it’s number. It’s deafening roar bellowing above the Anti-grav. Engines of the looming Devilfish.
Pulse rounds delved into it’s flesh as it charged through the dying, nudging aside it’s smaller brethren like children, whilst holding a huge axe in one of it’s tree trunk-like arms, bulging unnaturally out of it’s frame.
‘Bring it down, Fire Warriors!’ yelled the voice of the Shas’ui Team Leader over the din of battle, ‘it must not stall our victory!’.
Tens of shots tore through it as it advanced, bleeding from dozens of wounds in it’s chest, as it finally fell on it’s knees. It’s pistol still blazing with pathetic accuracy, unhindered by it’s injuries it rose it’s crude pistol, made tiny in it’s huge hands before a Pulse round thudded into it’s eye socket and exploded out of the back of it’s skull in a shower of shattered bone.
A great cheer rose out over the Comm-link, signalling that the last of the enemy had been driven off. The Shas’la joined in with the celebration, raising his Pulse Rifle high above his head in gloved hands.
A great pain shot through him, making him drop his rifle in it‘s entirety. He tried to cry out in pain, but he found that he couldn’t. He ran his hand over his chest, before zeroing in when another wave of agony washed through him, worse than the last, when he tried to draw breath.
Through the cracks of his chest plate, lies a large puncture that bored neatly through its thickness. His armour suddenly dragged him to the floor, as it grew heavy with every passing moment until he was kneeling cradling his wound with his arms.
The merciless air of Snowbane delved into his wound. Crystallizing his blood as it seeped out into the cold sun, a harsh mixture of pain and cold throbbed throughout his body as his breathing grew more shallow, his eyesight has started to fade and all sounds around him was muffled and near unrecognisable.
‘Kid!’ shouted a gruff voice, it’s sound echoed and far away. He tried to look for where it is coming from, but all he could see was patches of white , grey and black filling his vision like a strange painting. His heavy head shifted around, feeling heavier every time he tried to move.
‘Kid!’ shouted the voice again as the only sound that sounds like water, a dark form moved towards him, getting larger as he tried to focus on what it could be with tired eyes.
The Young Fire Warrior helplessly saw himself fall further onto the cold ground, chilling his armour at a moment’s touch, shivering as he cold feel his warmth slip away slowly.
‘Kid’ called the Veteran, ‘MEDIC! get a Medic over here now!’
The Veteran quickly reached his hand around the back of the Shas’la’s helmet, flipping a few catches before raising it off, ‘Hang on Kid, help is on the way’.
The Young Fire Warrior felt the rush of air envelop him in a blanket that, despite the cold, felt comforting as it seeped into his flesh, his tears that welled under his eyes started to slow and solidify at the very kiss of the wind.
‘I know you… back on the Devilfish…’ the Young Fire Warrior breathed with slurred speech.
‘Yes, we had a little talk there’ the Veteran spoke in reassurance,
‘did I… fight well?’
‘Yes.’ said the Veteran slowly, ‘you have killed a great many Reek with your fire and it has been an honour fighting beside you. Hold on Kid, the Medic’s coming to fix you. Do not give in just yet!’
The Young Fire Warrior looked around blankly, he could roughly see blurred silhouettes casting him into darkness, a pale glint of green and white shifting uneasily around him. All that he could think of is the pain, mixing in with random words from earlier this day, several voices that sound like hundreds whirled around his mind as though calling for him to follow.
He looked around himself slowly, feeling the pressure of many eyes, watching over him with the uncomfortable feeling of loss that hung in an unknown corner of his mouth.
Taking a deep breath, he knows of what he must do now.
‘Shas’ui, my friend, give me my rifle. I know that I am dying here, but I want to die upholding the growing tradition of our Sept’
The Veteran nodded grimly. The Shas’la knew by his basic movements that this was his last fight, conducting the first initial steps of full trooper status. The ceremonial Trail of First Blood.
The Veteran slid the Young Fire Warrior’s Pulse Rifle into his shaking hands, the weapon holding the markings of its previous masters as well as the scars of battle that it bore during its long journey in the hands of many Fire Warriors before the Shas’la
‘Fight with Honour…’ he spoke with exhaustion.
‘…Strength through Courage’ the Veteran finished.
The Young Fire Warrior’s breathing slowed as he gripped his rifle across his chest, as within a few short moments the light burning at the core of his eyes. Slowly dimmed and went out.
The light that followed was warm and delicious on the tip of his tongue, he stretched out his hands. Embracing the warmth and the silent voices that called to him.
No Replies? Must be that good then ! ^_^
I haven't had a chance to read it yet, though the bits I did get a chance to look at made me feel like this was more of humans fighting together than firewarriors. (The way they were talking and the things they were saying.)
Take my love, take my land, take me to where I cannot stand; I don't care I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me.
"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."- Lorgar
Member of the Fluff Masters Clan
I first originally thought that some of the Tau would love their role in the Greater Good, that there could be the odd few that would enjoy it a bit more than any usual Tau, hence their placement to that role. I may need to make a few changes though.
I'll make changes to the way that some of the characters talk to make them sound more alien and tone down their enthusiam a bit, maybe I'll wirte a sequel!
I think the point was more with the tone..
I'm inclined to agree actually.. Narrative-wise, it's a funky little story. But the way the Tau think is very human, and sort of grounded in human military tradition. I mean, there's probably nothing wrong with that, as we can't write stories in Tau anyway (and if we could we'd probably be sad lifeless freaks) but I think the dialogue and thinking would benefit from being a bit more alien.
In particular, there's a bit too much emphasis, I think, of the veterans as individuals. You even describe them as unique at one point. The whole ethos of Tau is that everyone plays a social role, as a group, and there are no individual achievements. Individualistic Tau are considered insane. I think words like 'friend' and 'kid' don't fit in with this kind of thinking.. I'd use a stronger word like 'brother' in the former case to imply a special bond, and just the troopers rank in the latter.
Also.. The ending where the fire warrior dies is a bit spiritual, and a bit too human in my opinion.. But it makes sense and is damn cool so I don't want to knock it.
A few minor practical points..
1) I think there's some confusion about ranks in the first section. I think a team-leader is a Shas'ui.. Tau ranks aren't awared for merit, I don't think, but denote a specific social role.. So if the veteran is a Shas'ui, it means he leads a squad (or pilots a battlesuit.)
2) It's never quite clear, but I don't think battlesuits are flown by controls. There's a very strong implication they're controlled by a MUI (mind unit interface.) That's why they cause so much psychological damage to some Tau, and why they're so heavily restricted.
But as a story it's glorious, and really captures the emotions and sense of chaos. Well written.
Thanks for the heads up, it seems that I've still got a long way to go in terms of story writing!
I was going to write another based on a battle that I'm going to have today but, it seems that Uni. has snuck up to bite me from behind! so I'm probably might write a few more during the Xmas break and post them when I get the chance. (No internet at home )
Anyway, it sure gives me a lot of time to paint my Tau army and get a few more games in!
It's nice to hear that people are enjoying the stuff that I write
So i read through this, and i must say your very good at writing. I dont see a whole lot of Tau fluff, and this one is exceptioanlly good. Like everyone else said though, it does feel more like humans talking then Tau. although... who really knows how Tau talk to one another? I did see how you didnt use words like Wasn'r and instead Was not, and i felt like that helped thier vocabulary less human, exluding the slang and such.
I'd advise perhaps just changing some of the words, but keeping that nice touch of not useing apostrphes. I dont think Fire warriors say "kid" to one another. But perhaps a cool tau word?
Anyway, i enjoyed this, and it seems like you put alot of effort into it, so repxorz!
Thanks for all your comments and suggestions guys and gals, I'm sure that these points will come in very useful in honing my newfound talent (I think the word Talent is a bit much lol).
Since I only just finished my Uni. work and I'm now just about to go on my Xmas break, I'll leave you with another of my short stories, just to make this thread a 'Double-Whammy' as well as a treat this Xmas.
I've written this during the final week of finishing up my GD model earlier this year, I was also crazy enough to write up a story about it. I don't have a digital camera, and so can't post any piccies of it though.
Without any ado, here you go.
Peaks of Avengement
A broken mountaintop disturbed a near seamless flow of a peaceful sea of mist, made celestial against the silver light of a distant sun. Its gentle radiance hidden behind a curtain of pure white that will ache the sockets of a mere mortal’s eye.
Its loud silence glides around every stone, crying desperately for aid that will never come to relieve it. Occasionally, a shrill wind brushes against it, its sound able to chill a being’s flesh to the bone. Below it, a narrow causeway lies unmoving and ancient with not a single footstep scarring its layers of grounded dust. On its peak, an alien grass rose slowly out behind the watchful faces of worn stone, thick rods silhouetted as dark strands against the blinding sky, their dark texture growing into a lighter color as they stretched out of the rock before melding into the color of the radiant sky as an icy blue. All the more colder than that of its surroundings.
Eyes cracked through the rugged texture of the stone as though the very surface of the mountain was rousing from an eternal slumber, the pair of eyes was sharp and endless as deep pits of darkness, broken with small orbs of a milky white, jolting occasionally in search of it’s prey.
Thoughts rained through it’s primitive mind. Memories of a past not far behind it, haunted it for a few days now, pictures of battle, not one but many. It witnessed horrors that it thought only existed as ghost stories, tales of myths that seemed impossible to it’s meager mind. It saw tiny creatures of blue and red fire scream across the sky on trails of burning smoke, ancient warriors with skins of stone baring weapons that hit with the force of many hunting staves, and their beasts. Their beasts are mighty and strange with the flesh of their masters; it heard the mighty creature’s unnatural moans and screeches as though it was in pain without a mouth to cry out with.
Even the Blue-Skin’s have difficulty in killing them, their magical weapons that spat creatures of blue fire only fuelling the Pink-Skin’s anger as they ran in their mighty forms, cutting through his brothers with their great disemboweling sweeps of their weapons that roar alongside them. One by one he watched his kind die in ways that he thought impossible, helpless to aid them as their dying screams tore through him mercilessly, calling for him as their lifeblood seeped into the snow with their hands outstretched in desperation and panic.
He and only a few others fled from the Fields of Fire, cries of agony mixed with the shrill wind as they slinked into the mountains with heavy hearts, their pride ripped apart by their guilt. All they could do is watch the senseless slaughter erupt around them, miles below their feet, their species eroding away over the coming weeks faster than thin ice touched by flame.
Blinking hard, he forced the thoughts poisoning his mind back into its dark recesses. He risked a small tear, gathering up in the corner of his eye as a small glint of his guilt. He is the last of his kin now, the last of what once was a great race, a descendant of a grand and powerful kind of his many ancestors hailing from the great world of Pech, father of all Kroot.
Clumsy footsteps rustled between the rocky walls of the silent gorge, hushed speech followed, made crisp with the eerie silence that surrounded him and the coming prey. Three forms stalked cautiously across the floor of dust, each clutching their Las-rifles tightly in gloved hands and wearing uniforms of light grey and heavy clothing.
Slowly the Kroot rose with his back arched, ready to pounce. Thick spines, peaked with a freezing ice blue, arose smoothly revealing a back of matted fur the color of cold, lifeless grays. A tail twitched behind it in enthusiasm of the hunt, smoothly ending as a broad tip of white. Hands spread across the old stone, it’s shoulder blades flexed and writhed beneath it’s thin flesh like a cat stalking it’s prey.
For the Ancestors of my brethren, thought the Kroot.
I will avenge them.
I will destroy them.
I will consume them.
I am Ei’kye, Last of the Spineback Kroot.
Very cool! You've got some serious talent! Altough the begining was a little rough to read.
So is the kroot remembering a bunch of chaos guys killing his brethern? What does GD stand for? Greater Demon?
And if it was chaos who killed his back, how is killing guardsmen vengance?
Though Chaos Marines could do if it takes your fansy
I made and painted a model to a pretty good standard within two weeks, I swore that I was close to entering the finals but alas, nope.
I simply entered it because I wanted to inpire people with it. I know I did
The Traitor Guardmen just happened to be patrolling the area, in that moment Ei'Kye wanted to avenge his fallen kin. The Traitor Guardmen were the enemy, members of the people who nearly wiped out his heritage and so he wanted at least a small manner of Vengeance.
Besides, he was probably getting a little peckish after staying out in the frozen wilderness for so long