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The Battle of Skalathrax, The 11th Sub-Company
"In the name of the god's what are we doing here?" the marine cursed as he ducked into the shelter, his black armor tinged with frost.
"If the Lord Commander knew, he would still be alive." Savorn replied with a snort.
"Yes Captain." the sullen warrior replied.
The 11th sub-company of the 6th Great Company, Emporer's Children Legion, was holding their position in a dug-out in the Legion's main line. Once night had fallen, they, like their foes, had fallen back into the safety of their bunkers, sheltered from the frigid temperatures.
"Slaanesh willing, we'll push them back come morning." Karathim, the Blastmaster weilding warrior replied. "The World Eaters have no subtledy, eh Captain?" he chukled.
"They might be idiots, but you have to remember, they're tough idiots. Especially with that thrice-cursed Kharn leading them." Savorn replied, cleaning his Sonic Blaster in slow, rythmic motions.
And so the night slowly began, cleaning weapons, changing the guard, cathing what rest they could, the 11th passed the time as best they could. Their first realization that something was wrong happened near midnight, when the first sounds of battle could be heard.
"You're freakin' kidding me!" screamed Karathim, "Who in Slaanesh's name would fight out in that!"
Before anyone else could respond, or even prepare themselves, a World Eater berserker, his red armor almost totally frozen, his movements eratic, shattered the door with his chain-axe and sprinted into the room, screaming incoherently. Taking no more than ten stops he recieved no less than ten Sonic blasts. The exquisite sound waves ripped his body to shreds, and screaming in an utterly different way what remained of him was hurled back out of the door.
Calmly lowering his Sonic Blaster, Savorn began to bark orders. "First Squad on me, let's find out what the hell those Khorne lackeys are up to. Second, Third, Fourth, get your asses to the trench and hold it. Fifth stay here, you're the reserve, now MOVE!" he unnessacarily screamed the last word.
Shouldering his way out and slamming his helmet over his head, he moved to the top of a firing step in the trench and gazed at the field. Not much was heppening in this area, but he could see movement far in the distance. What he could see to the west however, was not as plain. Bolter fire and Sonic blasts traced through the air, explosions ripped the landscape and countless fires burned in the trench. Even as he watched, a bunker not far down the line from his suddenly burst into flames, the sound of battle within clearly audible.
He spun to his men even as they piled out, "Let's move! The World Eaters are attacking the main line! All squads form on me! Advance!" Rapidly climbing the trench side, he lumbered forward in his Terminator armor, the sixty men of his five squads quickly following, their screams echoeing with warp power as they sprinted forth, Sonic Blasters and Bolters firing as they ran. With a martial fury of their own, the World Eater's charged forward, abandoning their trenches and their cover, sprinting towards their foe.
"HOLD!" Savorn screamed, skidding to a stop even as he brought his gun to bear. "Hold Position and Fire!" Slidding and stumbling to a halt, the entire company leveled their weapons and opened fire. Laughing and whooping with pleasure at the sound of their guns and at the deaths of their foes, the fired with reckless abandon as the World Eaters, caught out and in the open, were massacred utterly. Only their champion even made it to where the Emporer's Children were firing.
"For the Immortal Prince!" Savorn screamed as he charged forward, meeting the berserker head on. "For Slaanesh!" and with a mighty sweep of his lightning clawed hand, his muscles super-charged by the sudden power of the warp, he crushed his foe, hurling the Champion across the battlefield as though he were a toy.
"Charge! Take their lines and we can push them back!" Other sub-companies were joining them, pushing forwards. Exulting in his new powers, and reveling in the pleasure of death around him, Savorn led his 11th forwards. Leaping into the trench, they began to systematically massacre all before them, often letting their foes die slowly as their armor was breached and the cold allowed to seap into their flesh.
But even as Savorn cried his exulatation to Slaanesh as he slowly beheaded a Captain, did in a burst of flame Kharn himself appear. Screaming with fury at the sight of his foes, and the great power of Khorne running through him, he cut down two marines in the blink of an eye and hurled himself at Savorn. Unprepared for the asssault, Savorn slashed with his clawed hand in a desperate series of parries, but could not hold. A single blow slipped past his futile defense and hurled him to the ground. Two more massive blows slammed into him from Kharn's axe before the warrior moved on, killing all in his path.
As the sound of battle faded, Savorn heaved with a great cough, spitting blood as he shakily stood. His great armor and been breached by the chainaxe, and ice began to creep into his veins. Slowly rising out of the trench he watched as Karathim deperataly fired with his massive weapon, the soundblasts echoeing as he cut down the warriors charging him.
"Slaanesh great me strength!" Savorn cried softly as he planted his feet and opened fire with his Sonic blaster, the beautifull noise was matched only by the screams of the dying in his ears, and even as he killed he felt his skin hardening, new power flow into him as the great god of excess himself granted him the strength he needed.
"Sir!" Kathim raced over, having bayoneted the last berserker through the throat. "The Company has fallen back to the trenches! Kharn is on a warpath!" the battle-hardened marine was shaking violently. "In the name of Slaanesh, I have never seen anything like that.."
"Forgot about Kharn," Savorn snarled, "He only cares about the fighting, we're not going to be doing any of that."
"Sir?" he asked, utterly suprised.
"We lost this fight. I'm not staying with this Company any more. Let's get the 11th back together and grab a transport."
"Yes sir." Hefting his blastmaster, he followed his Captain.
Slowly they made their way back to the trench, where the found several shivering members of the sub-company.
"Sir!" Baknor, the only Sorcerer in the 11th rose from his place. "I've got the remainders of the fourth and the second here with me, but the rest were pushed back by the berserkers."
"Then we're going to follow them and get them out of here. Light a path would you?" Savorn grunted as he heaved himself up and over the trench. Following the path of bodies, their path lighted by the unnatural glow of Baknor's axe, untill they came upon the huddled survivors of the other three squads.
"Come on," Baknor barked, "Up and moving, we're leaving."
None of the warriors moved. Karathim knelt and checked one of them, "Shell shock." he reported, "Not even Slaanesh could guard them from Kharn, they're stunned."
With a snarl of impatience, Savorn fired his Sonic Blaster barely over the heads of the huddled men, firing it again and again, the massive thunderclaps of noise ripping through the frigid air. Yet the beautifull cacaphony roused the shaken men, and they slowly rose to their feet, saying nothing, and Savorn said nothing in turn.
"Baknor, get us out of here. We have places to go, people to kill. Slaanesh guided us today, let us pay him back with the pleasure of battle."
A Raid of the 11th Sub-Company
It was a world like any other. He supposed that it had a name, but it didn’t matter to him. All that mattered was that it was a world of the Imperium, another nameless faceless world where lackeys of the false Emperor lived and worked. And died.
The high pitched whine of Sonic blasters and the reverberating bass thuds of the Blastmasters joined in with the more typical sounds of gunfire this night. The chosen of Slaanesh had found this small world, and the screams of the dying filled the air, delicious to his ears. Lord Savorn, Blade of Furies, Commander of the 11th Sub-Company of the Emperor’s Children legion, strode forward, musing in his mind, ignoring the pitiful lasgun fire streaming into his armor and past him.
I had such high hopes that at least some loyalists idiots would be on this rock... he thought wistfully. Without breaking stride or thought, he swept his right hand, claws flickering with power, through a guardsman trying to fire. No real challenge to be found here… With a sigh he shook himself from his thoughts, and gazed at the massive bunker not far from where he stood. Still… another day, another skull. Grinning darkly, insanely, beneath his helm, he resumed his role as the lord of his marines.
“First squad, move up and silence those heavy weapons! Second and Fourth with me! Third and Fifth to cover the left and right! Move you lazy bastards! These worms will die for Slaanesh!” and with a war cry the shook the very earth he charged forth, his chosen bodyguards with him, his marines leaping to obey his orders. Daemonettes also sprinted to and fro, sometimes offering a choice reward to a loyal marine of slaanesh, others grinning inhumanly as they slowly killed guardsmen who had fallen to their siren song.
As his bodyguard lay down a fearsome barrage of fire upon the bunker’s front, Savorn located the thick door leading into the interior, and with a single punch hurled it from its hinges. Las fire poured onto him, he laughed aloud, the sound reverberating in the small space. “Witness death pathetic scum!” he shouted, still laughing, and he felt the fear the suddenly raced through the guardsmen before him. With another great cry, he strode forth, his great claws cutting through anyone who attempted to bar his way.
Only once did he pause, when a Priest strode forth, a great chainsword in his hands. With a barked laugh, he smashed it out of the old mans hands, and carefully opened choice cuts into his torso, the blood slowly pooling forth as the man screamed. Savorn felt his god smiling upon him, and turned, a tall Daemonette watched him, her eyes glowing, her long tongue licking her lips as she watched the blood pour from the old priest. Even as the old man’s energy began to fade, Savorn raked his claws down his legs, and even as he died the man screamed in agony. With a little scream of pure delight, the Daemonette hurled herself at a wounded guardsmen, unable to contain her lust for pain any longer.
Slowly rising to his feet, he strode deeper into the bunker, killing few, as few dared even come near, many guardsmen simply fleeing upon hearing the heavy thuds of his feet. He simply walked through the door into the command station, and relished the wave of fear that his arrival created.
“And who is the worm that commands these lesser scum?” he taunted, surveying the room.
A tall, middle-aged man rose. “I am he, general of this regiment.” He stood, his armor flexing with his body, a powersword in one hand, a plasma pistol in the other. “And this shall be the end of you, heathen!”
As fast as the General was on the draw, Savorn, after ten thousand years of experience and his own physical perfection, was much faster. Before the gun had cleared its holster, he had smashed through two of the servitors into the room, and with a swipe knocked the weapon from his foe’s hand.
The General himself proved to be no novice, and had already begun a counter-swing with his sword, the blade biting deep into Savorn’s shoulder. Parrying the blow out and away before it could cut deeper, Savorn quickly moved on his own, parrying, dodging, toying with the mere mortal. Allowing fear and fatigue to seep into him. And then he saw it, the glimmer of spirit, fighting hope in the man’s eyes, die. With a roar he slammed the blade out of the now-weak hands, hurling the man down onto the floor. The fear rose off of him in waves, and Savor relished it, savored it. The scream slowly faded into whimpers, and with casual disdain, Savorn slammed his metal foot into the man’s calf, crushing it.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you..” he murmured aloud. He could feel the man’s fear, the fear of thousands as his Marines broke through above him, as the pillaging and slaughter started. As the demons hunted and the cultists revealed themselves. With a purr the Daemonette slid up next to him, her lips and front covered in human blood. Placing a small kiss on the side of his helm, she settled down onto the floor and watched, shivering in delight as Savorn slowly began to rip the General apart, muscle by muscle.
For the Dark Goddess! For Slaanesh!
Starting April 21st, 2007, W-L-T
Emperor's Children Legion - 26-6-6
I've only read the first story so far, but in case my teacher comes around I thought I'd post my thoughts. Nice job. Very interesting. The thing that catches my eye is 1.) It should be Grant* not "great me power." :shifty:
And 2.) They act like IG in power armor. They seem too human. Even Space Marines are less typical during battle conversation. Slaneesh, I imagine anyway, are more fanatical. Death isn't something to be feared, it's an orgy of pain and other psychopathic pleasure. It shouldn't motivate him to leave, I mean, they won't walk into death, but do you see what I mean?
Anyway, just some thoughts, nice job overall. Just my opinions.
EDIT: Second story - quite nice, I like this one better. Very good. :yes:
Last edited by hotspike18; April 10th, 2007 at 13:11.
"If you can wait til I get home, then I swear we can make this last."
I'm with hotspike here.. They sound more human than loyalist marines should sound, let alone creatures who are having their sensory feedback amplified thousands of times and fed back into the pleasure centres of their brains.
To a Emperor's Children marine, everything is overstimulating, and overstimulation brings rapture and ecstatic communion with Slannesh. You need to describe every single sound, not in a lucid rational sense but as an overawing mystical experience.
Slanneshi marines also scream as they fight. Not regular screaming, but a constant, dischordant wailing which shreds the barrier between warp and real space.
In short, everyone just sounds to lucid, too normal in mentality and far, far too military.. The Emperor's Children aren't really a military unit any more, most of them abandoned their companies at Skalathrax and formed into cults and warbands. Slannesh hates discipline and restraint..
And they don't get shell shocked.. Death is an intense experience, pain is an intense experience, and experience produces ecstatic pleasure. They're fearless in game for a reason.. What can shock and frighten you when you get off on intensity?
EDIT: I don't mean to sound too negative though.. It's a great story with a strong narrative idea. I just think it could use some fine tuning to fit in with the Emperor's Children 'image.' I mean.. look at these guys. ;P