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I wrote this and wondered weither I should continue....

Brother Noviate Bethor took cover as yet another artillery shell smashed into the ground nearby, its huge payload igniting and detonating throwing yet more of his Noviate brothers to their grisly deaths.

Bethor looked around himself, parts of the Rockcrete trench he was in had collapsed under the weight of the enemy guns, the solid defence it had once offered was now little more than a pile of rubble. In amongst the scattered rubble where the remains of his squad, both living and dead, next to him lay the horribly charred corpse of Brother Noviate Sagus, his once noble features melted and burned. Along the line Bethor saw Brothers Galto and Lucor remaining steadfast and returning fire over the edge of the trench, Galto's Auto cannon wrenching and tearing large gaps into the infantry lime slowly heading towards their position, Lucor quickly feeding the large .50 bolts into his brothers weapon, his own discarded amongst the rubble

Bethor looked at his own weapons, it’s power seemed miniscule in comparison. A simple combat shotgun and a standard pattern Bolt pistol Mk IV, handed to him by the Master of the Armoury at his induction into the scout company, although lethal at close range, at the range the Chaos scum were at now they were useless, only Galto had any chance of denting the lines of the foe and his ammunition situation was quickly beginning to become a worry for Bethor.

Another shell hit close by, the blast throwing dust, blood, and body parts over his position, he cursed, here he was sitting on the front line and he could do nothing but sit and wait, hoping he wasn't killed by a falling shell before the foul enemy came into range. But he assured himself, once they did come into range... by the Hope of the Flames he would give them hell.

Bethor turned to Lucor and shouted over to him, “How many left in the crate?�
Lucor, without turning, shouted back, “We’ve got around forty seconds solid burst left, after that we’ve got nothing�

Suddenly another noise came over the din of the artillery, the short piercing squeal of lasguns, small indents appeared in the Rockcrete which could mean only one thing...the scum were finally in range, his micro bead blipped into live and the voice of Scout Sergeant Oxforus spoke over the link...

''Okay lads lets show these scum how it feels to be the receiving end of the firepower''
And with that Bethor raised himself over the edge of the trench and drew his Bolt pistol, he drew his aim carefully and fired, the pistol kicked in his hands, in the distance a cultist fell, a single bolt round through his skull. Bethor aimed again and downed another Cultist to his left, Galto and Lucor, the Auto cannon finally dry pulled up their Bolt pistols and added to the fray..

''Now Chaos Scum'' thought Bethor '' Now you shall pay for your treachery''


What do you think? Continue it or burn it..?
 

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just love these kinda storys. you discribe the things that happen clear but I still can use my imagination. make some more please :rolleyes: :rolleyes:

--for the greater good--
 
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