Welcome to Librarium Online!
Join our community of 80,000+ members and take part in the number one resource for Warhammer and Warhammer 40K discussion!
Registering gives you full access to take part in discussions, upload pictures, contact other members and search everything!
Talos of the Iron Warriors legion soared high in the clear blue sky, white con-trails billowing out behind him as his jump pack carried him kilometres above the advancing warriors of the legion. He spared a glance at the inside of his helmet, checking his chronometer and the small role-specific panel that was inserted into the helmet. Several sigils glowed in various shades of amber, despite the high altitude, and the chills of its affects. Talos cursed mentally. Ever since the Iron Warriors had arrived on this planet, predominately desert, they had been beset by drawbacks due solely to the harsh conditions. In the few weeks that the legion had been on the planet, chosen as a target for the Legion's new source of armaments and raw materials, all manner of havoc had been caused with their machinery. It seemed that every couple of miles, now, that every weapon and vehicle had to be field stripped and cleaned of the dirt that penetrated every mechanism.
Add to that the abrasive qualities of the sand storms that kicked up every now and then, and it was a wonder that the legion still moved along through the dunes. Talos looked down at his earth-bound brethren, watching as the sun sparkled over the moving mass of men and machinery. The column snaked its way through the desert to the spearhead force that was even now preparing the siege works for taking the hive-city of Traskia. Vast trenches, threading through the golden dunes had been dug by the multitudes of slaves that had been taken from the various small communities that were seemingly every few miles in the barren landscape. Most of them had been near the closest mine, and vast piles of deep ochre rocks betrayed the rich iron ore that lay in seams below the surface.
A bleep sounded inside his helm as Talos reached the Raptor's checkpoint, before the squad of five split up and went their separate ways toward their targets. The Raptors' contrails attracted the vague interest of the civilian militia on the ground, watching as they soared well outside the range of their weapons. Despite this fact, several aerial defence emplacements loosed off a few shots from their weapons, watching as their flak shells burst some two thousand feet below their targets. A glint of sunlight on water caught Talos' eye, recognising his next objective. Immediately he dove toward the silvery shimmer on the surface; certain that it was the moisture farm he had been ordered to destroy.
As he gathered speed, Talos noticed with a passing interest as the jump pack status runes flickered from orange to clear blue, indicating that all was well. The increased airflow was quickly cooling the tortured mechanical components of the pack, blowing out the dust and grit that had lain within. At ten thousand feet, Talos watched with mild amusement as a hatch on the roof popped open, and out sprawled the farm's token imperial guard defence. A short while later, a missile rocketed up from the surface, but Talos merely swept to the side watching as the missile shot past to detonate in the sky far above him. As he descended still further, glowing red bolts of light whizzed past him with a dark malevolence as the squad's heavy bolter opened fire. Talos slowed his descent as he plummeted toward the roof of the building.
He landed with force sufficient to crack the three-inch-thick solid marble tiles on the roof, sending deep vibrations throughout the structure and knocking half of the guardsmen to the ground. As they struggled to their feet, Talos attacked, smashing heads from their shoulders with mighty blows, cold with a clinically precise quality, the minimum expenditure of effort for maximum effect. The squad sergeant drew a sword, and with a flick of a switch, a crackling field of energy surrounded the blade. A power sword, easily capable of cutting through Talos' armour, if the sergeant got a strike in. As Talos finished off the remaining guardsman, ramming the man's cursed heavy bolter through his chest, the sergeant paused, foolishly waiting to engage Talos in open combat. Talos spun round and faced the sergeant, beckoning him forward with his right hand, from which a mixture of nine men's lifeblood dripped in rivulets onto the cold marble.
The sergeant waited a moment, before clasping the hilt of the power sword with both hands, raising it high above his head, reflecting some of the dazzling glare of the planets dual suns. A bestial roar emanated from the man's throat, which amused Talos greatly, that the deluded sergeant thought that it would somehow endow him with enhanced powers of some kind. The sergeant ran at Talos, sword still raised above his head, apparently intent on cutting Talos into from head to groin. Talos stooped and swung his armoured fist forward, connecting with the sergeants projecting larynx, crushing it beyond recognition. The power sword dropped from the sergeant's hand, falling to the floor with a clatter as its previous owner clutched at his throat, his skin quickly turning purple as he choked to death.
Talos kicked the sergeant in the head to end his misery. Distinctly unprofessional to hang about when there was vital work to be done, Talos remarked. He could gloat over the pitiful guardsmen later. He strode over to the door, polished steel gleaming in the sun. He buried his fists into the door, the tortured metal screaming its protest, and ripped it off its hinges, flinging it carelessly aside onto some of the many corpses that now littered the roof of the building. Bending at the knees slightly, Talos shifted his broad bulk through the doorway into the moisture farm; intent on finding the objectives he had been assigned to destroy amongst the jungle of machinery in readiness for the siege ahead.
"It fits like clothes made out of wasps!"
I enjoyed reading your story quite alot. It had a good build up to the burst of violence and you established the scene very effectivly. Nice work.
Good stuff, very good stuff.
I always enjoy reading about Raptors, they rock so much...But maybe thats just because i play Night Lords :lol:
Your fluffraping hurts my eyes. - TehDarkPredator