Here is my first attempt at a 40k story. Any comments will be apreciated, and an end paragraph might help too!

In all his time in the ministorum, Confessor Jacob had never even imagined a scene so horrifying. In the vast valley below him were gathered countless men all chanting their dedication to the lord of pain
and pleasure, Slaanesh. The very word made Jacob shudder. Either that, or he was beginning to feel the chill of the wind that howled across the barren ash-plains of Verdan IV. He looked around, hoping to see
a mutual feeling, but found none. 80 sisters of battle stood in close ranks, quietly singing litanies of faith or appeasing the machine spirits of their armour. Several more sisters were tending to the eight
jet-black rhinos, almost the same colour as the ash they stood on. Cannoness Emilia of the Order of our Martyred Lady srode forward. "It would seem the odds are against us, Confessor." she said calmly, her
eyes fixed on the horde at the bottem of the gorge. "Indeed," he replied, "but in times of darkness our faith in the Emperor will shine out brighter than a hundred torches." Emilia nodded and strode back to
her personal rhino, lavishly adorned with a huge gold fleur-de-lys on the hull, where her eight celestian bodyguards were checking their weapons. Jacob was pleased to see the familiar face of Sophia. They had
both been recruited from the same settlement many systems away, and had fought together many times. She smiled at him. It gave him a warm feeling inside, as they had become close friends. He turned back to
the horde below and hefted his bolter-flamer. Despite its size it was very well-made and felt considerably light in his hand. It had been made by the Iron priests on Fenris, and presented to Jacob for his help
cleansing an old temple occupied by nightgangers close to the Fang. But that could not compare to the task that faced him now. He muttered a quick prayer to the Emperor and proceeded to the rhinos, half of the
sisters already embarked in their vehicles, some strggling with their bulky heavy flamers and heavy bolters. Jacob knew they would be of great use in the battle to come.

The horde started to move as soon as they saw the rhinos approaching. Jacob was standing up, the doors on the top of the tank open and he was shouting chants of damnation towards the cultists. Mutation was rife;
as he watched he could see skin flaying and limbs burstng apart to reveal hideous,twisting tentacles or wickedly sharp claws. He had never felt this scared before. Suddenly the storm bolter on the tank's hull
roared into life and sister Helena opened fire with her heavy bolter from the roof hatch. Even at the speed they were travelling at she was considerably accurate and sent shell after shell into the cultists.
Jacob followed, his arm rocking back from the recoil, his book of prayers swinging wildly. He wondered if the worn leather strap it was attached to would hold out. It was quite old though and he did not expect
it to. He cleared his mind of it as the APC ground to a halt behind a tall spire of rock and his squad emptied out onto the ash plain. He glanced across to see the opposite flank overrun, punishing gouts of flame
spewing into the ranks of the cultists causing death and confusion. After a few moments he returned his attention to his squad. They had allready begun to fire, and he did the same. No bullet missed its mark; how
could it? Jacob though. Before him was an endless tide of lost souls coming to wash him away. Suddenlt Emila caled for her squad to charge. The sisters barrelled into the cultists, Jacob not far behind, his
chainsword whirring into life. He hacked and slashed with wild abandon, each swipe ending another life. Emilia faired even better; her bolt pistol blowing holes in the cultists as she swung with her power axe,
cutting through flesh and bone with equal ease. The cultists' assult faltered, and they broke. Jacob wanted to persue but Emilia held him back, calmly putting shells between the cultists' shoulderblades. After
another punishing blast of burning promethium the other flank realised the attack had failed, turned and fled, leaving many cahrred and still burning bodies behind, trying to drag themselves away but expiring
after a few feet, either from exhaustion, pain, or the swift blow from a power-armoured foot.Jacob knew they had to maintain their momentum and attack while the enemy retreated. Several squads embarked into their
APCs to attack the cultists head on. Emilia, Jacob, her bodyguard and two other squads were to make a flank attack. The squads routinely piled into the rhinos and in no time at all Jacob was sent into the
side of the interior of the tank as it raced over the ash dunes. Emilia led the thers in prayer for the Emperor to spare their souls, but Jacob had a horrible feeling it would be to no avail. The rhino jumped
another dune and began to slow. Even before it had stopped, the side door had slid aside and Sister Sophia was peering out, firing into the mass of cultists. As soon as the rhino had stopped she lept out and
slammed another ammo clip into her bolter as if she were in the daily firing rites.
Then Jacob saw it. One of the cultists was considerably larger than the others; a good head and shoulders above the rest. He had more muscles as well-maybe as strong as a Space Marine, but this was no
Space Marine. It had two horns sprouting from its head, and its legs and feet were like that of a goat. In its left hand it carried a long black sword that pulsed rhythmicaly Looking at this monstrosity made
Jacob feel sick. Even worse, it seemed none of the sisters had noticed the abomination and were already halfway between the rhinos and the gap in the huge walls that separated them from the cultists. Even though
they fired round after round into their assailants none hit the larger cultist. Jacob was sure he saw a tracer round curve round it, but dismissed the though immediately. He sprinted to catch up with his squad,
who were amost on top of the horde of damned chaos worshippers. Flamers ignited and torched dozens. One squad was already up close, the Sister Superior removing limbs and splitting heads with her ornate sword.
Moments later Jacob caught up with his squad as they piled in and started hacking away. The goat-legged one strode throught the rabble, picking up one of the cultists with a huge pink tentacle and hurling it
towards the Adeptus Sororitas. It obviously didn't know it's own strength and was dreadfully inaccurate, as the poor projectile was smashed apart as it impacted against the side of the pass, raining gore down
on those below. The other two squads had engaged the mob and Jacob felt the heat of battle try to consume him as he rushed in, hacking left and right with his cahinsword. He risked a glance across to the other
squads, and luckily saw a blow coming that would quite easily decapitate him. He ducked and tore a great gash in his attacker's abdomen, entrails spilling forth, staining the grey ash a dull red. Over on the
other side of the pass he could see the Sister Hospitaller tending to a sister bleeding heavily from a deep gash on her forehead. Turning back he pulled the trigger of his combi-weapon and a huge burst a flame
rushed out, incinerating the nearest cultist until he was merely a blackened skeleton with a few strips of muscle and tendon clinging to it. The blast sent many others reeling, and no less than half a dozen
died from the attack. Still firing with one hand Jacob cut a path through the cultists. None could lay him low; his armour protected him from the few puny blows that could reach him. He and his squad carved a
bloody swathe through through the cultists. One of the rhinos was careering through them, and they were so densely packed that it crushed dozens of them, all the while its storm bolters spat holy retribution
all around it. One had stopped as it had run out of ammunition, and the barrels of the other was glowing red hot. One of the squads was tied up on the edge of the pass, while the other was gathered around one of
the rhinos providing cover fire. Jacob had no idea what was happening at the front of the valley. Were the others safe? Had they all been killed? Was the flank attack paying off? A lapse in his concentration
allowed for a crude blade to bite into his arm. Pain flared and he nearly dropped his bolter-flamer. Bleeding and with no way back his rage engulfed his thoughs entirely. He became a whirling vortex of death;
his chainsword was like an extension of his arm, and no foe touched by it survived. He let his gun fall to the ground, as his grip was slipping because of the blood running down his bare arm and covering his
palm. He suddenly found himself face to face with the goat-thing.v For a moment time seemed to slow, and Jacob stood in amazement at the size of this, whatever it was or had been. And then time returned to
normal, and Jacob had to duck quickly to avoid a low swipe of the blade it carried. He rolled to his feet and slashed across the thing's midrift. Blood spewed and it roared in pain. Swinging out with its tentacle
it grabbed Jacob around the waist and lifted im heigh into the air. It spun its sword round in its hand and pointed it at Jacob's heart. It pulled its hand back ready to skewer the venerable confessor. As it
did Jacob brought his own weapon round in a huge arc onto his foe's skull. There was a horrific crunching sound as the teeth of the chainsword smashed through bone, and moments later the teeth dragged out chunks
of grey slop. Jacob felt its grip slacken and he dropped to the ground. At the death of their leader, terrified cries rang out and the last of the cultists fled. Their numbers had been decimated; only about a
hundred remained The valley was a charnel house. Exausted, Jacob collapsed, passing out before he hit the ground.