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This is an extract from my up-and-coming Fluff. I'm developing this to represent my
Black Templars army, who have been forsaken by the Imperium for a crime
they did not commit
He stood upon the edge of a crumbling tower, callously surveying the pandemonium that had erupted
beneath with a cold gaze. His attention was solely fixed on the smoldering ruins that spread out towards the
horizon in all directions: the mightiest city on this once prosperous world, brought to its knees by the twisted
desire of a single man who sought redemption.
But I am a mere man no longer. He brooded.
No, I gave that existence up long ago. To have experienced life as they do, to have suffered loss and sorrow
in its simplest form is a luxury I have forsaken myself for eternity.
Perhaps it was a slither of humanity creeping through his now stoic demeanor that made that solitary
tear stream down his cheek. In the split second before it was evaporated by the servos in his
helmet, perhaps he saw what could have been had he not chosen that path. The path that would
shed him of all that made him human, all that he lived for. All that he loved.
The crackle of his Vox broke through his somber reverie like a Bolter shell hitting armour.
== My Lord, we have the city, and the enemy is in full retreat. I have committed squads Vindication and
Deliverance to ensure that none escape. ==
It was Brother Pyras, his voice cold as stone as he made his report.
== You have done well, Initiate. We have no need for survivors. May the Emperor guide your hand,
and may your blade deliver His divine Judgment. ==
The battle was over, and while it would further their cause significantly, he knew it was but a minute
part to be played in this war for atonement.
He spun on the heel of his solid adamantium boot, his torn and weathered cloak flailing about him
as he moved purposefully from the tower. Behind him followed the silent figures of his Praetorians,
Battle-Brothers who had been hand chosen by their Lord for their unrivalled talent in the art of combat.
At their sides hung highly ornate Chainswords, blessed by both the Crusade’s Techmarine and Chaplain, whose
rituals would awaken the angry Machine Spirits contained within. Countless times had their teeth
tasted the flesh of both the Alien, the Mutant, and the Heretic, and they would do so again, and soon.
“Lord Aurron, the Will of the Forsaken is in range for teleportation. Shall I give the order?” Came a call as he
made his way into the clearing, what was once a great plaza in this now desolate city.
“Yes, brother. Secure the prisoner for transfer. I will follow momentarily” Was his reply.
Indeed. Let us confirm what we all have suspected of occurring here.
Let us see whether the Sinner has shown his hand.
Very very nice!
A thrillingly dramatic story served on a silver platter!
Kudos to you for not only a nice bit of fluff but a truly awesome format (Both the story and your W/L/D counter at the bottom)
My hat off to you Sir! (And seeing as I have no hat, my scalp *rrrrrip* :ninja
Can't wait to see where this goes
Your fluffraping hurts my eyes. - TehDarkPredator
Thanks PrOtOcoN. Comments are much appreciated.
I enjoyed making the Border/Title/Footer. I figured I wanted to "spice" up the Fluff with some 40k Inspired art.