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Warhammer 40k - In Love and Krieg
Living as a civilian in the Imperium of Man is either outright horrifying or absolutely boring. A vast spanding, galactic Empire lead by the God-Emperor himself is hard to summarize. To put it simply, we own a considerable chunk of the galaxy, some hive worlds are horrible to live on and others are pretty alright. Criminals write a lot of counter propaganda that paint the Imperium in colours other than its trademark silver, decals of gold, royal reds as maroon as blood and grim blacks with tones of mechanical gray. Truth be told, it is all somewhere inbetween. If we could complain, we would. The wise decision is to not. This is the way of life on my home planet, Jordin. We pretend to work and they pretend to pay us. It is merely a fly on the arm of the God Emperor. It is a small planet very similar to Holy Terra, broken into numerous countries with individual governments that all acknowledge the Imperial rule. We are somewhat locked in a Dark Age of Technology. Couple dec
Cold chills ruffle his black pelt mane,
But there are no more wolves,
On this Fenrisian plain.
Stone cold and fierce,
Bright eyes that could pierce,
Determined to go through,
What no one else would do,
With his Wulfen returned he will fight on,
Launch a crusade whereupon,
He brings light to the dark,
But look here, hark!
Through the swirling maelstrom,
His brother Primarch.
The Crimson King knows times are changing,
Reveals tensions are raising to a fate so amazing.
Loyalties cleft in twain,
Traitor's bane versus traitor stain,
Former friends come to blows,
Ancient tragedy from which hatred grows,
Fresh in their minds after ten thousand years,
A legion seeking vengeance now reappears.
Magnus employs his schemes, devising,
For the Thousand Sons legion uprising.
While in orbit Dark Angels' suspicions are rising,
But upon who will they be chastising?
The sorcerer finds him,
The Primarch of the sixth,
In an expression from with which no hymn,
Could mask his sin.
Russ calls to his brother:
Apostle, Chapter One - BotL
“We haven’t made planetfall already… what’s the delay?”
“The Captains are still discussing tactics – this is our first encounter with the Orks-“
“Tactics?” The masculine tone released a feral growl of discontent, “we need not bother with tactics! These are primitive greenskins who can barely fire a pistol! We could go in there unarmed and still claim victory in a matter of minutes!”
“You fail to see past your own foolish ignorance, brother. They are no match for the Emperor’s fury, but it doesn’t allow us to show hubris when faced against them.”
“Any other Legion would have pasteurized them without a second thought! Yet we, the noble twelfth of his Lord Emperor’s Astartes, dawdle on this ship discussing tactics!”
“This is our first major xenos engagement, brother, we can’t afford to go in blind-“
A grim pause followed as a third figur
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 5 - part 1 Lovawen 1 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 5 - part 2 Lovawen 0 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 4 - part 2 Lovawen 0 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 4 - part 1 Lovawen 0 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 1 Lovawen 0 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 3 Lovawen 0 0
Mature contentInto the Devil's Eye - Chapter 2 Lovawen 1 0
Written by Apothecary Meros
We advance through the broken ranks,
Warp-beasts charging, assaulting the flanks,
Their walls crumble,
Their spires tumble,
The Guard lined up in trenches,
A fist around a Lasgun clenches,
They’re in my sight,
Dead in a flash, a thunderous smite.
In the nightime hue,
Encased in midnight blue,
He comes for you,
Devouring the field,
The shattered enemy shall yield,
Their fates are sealed.
It’s long silver talons, an iron grip,
From flesh, your soul it shall rip,
The devouring and grinding pain,
Men’s lives lost in vein,
The impact of rockets, from which a howling wind blows,
Infernos burning as it snows,
It’s Tzeench’s demand,
That everything goes,
Just as planned.
Pink Horrors emerge,
The loyalists we purge,
Their morale on the verge,
This world we shall scourge.
We form a barricaded line of a thousand guns,
Their way of life the Keeper of Secrets shuns
But they shall be demolished by a beast of a thous
In the Arms of the Valkyries - BotL
“The cool wind in the atmosphere, the lush grass around your feet, the sun kissed hilltops on the horizon and even the cool depths of this sanctum; we call Tarsis.” The speaker begins, raising his arms and letting his fur cloak trail in his wake while stepping down a marble staircase at the front of the platform. His pointed shoes met the carpet of grass that grew in a ring around his square pavilion. Stone stretched from the edge up to the walls of the large granite dome, with light pouring from a drop-pod sized hole nearly a hundred metres above: the vent of the volcano that was active here many thousands of years prior to Tarsis’ ownership by the Eldar. “Our land has come under siege by savage mon’keigh, who seek to destroy us and our culture for nothing more than their own ego and self-satisfaction.” His wrinkled face contorts in a sorrow expression. “We must defend it to our last breath. Rise, my sons, harness the wrath of Khaine!” H
Jarosh the Techpriest - Victoria Aut Mors
“I exist to serve.”
Jarosh never grew tired of the same dull phrase which erupted in static from the lobotomised slave trailing behind his pearl trimmed crimson robes. They arched around the bionic features of his several century old complexion. Pipes and cables emerged in bundles from his neck and arms, only to bury themselves within the depths of his cloak once again. Each footfall brought with it a deep clank from the soles of his iron boots which echoed around the florescent lit hallway. The tough mesh beneath him gave view to a bottomless void of control stations and banks plasma generators – the heart and soul of his palace.
In truth his ‘palace’ was merely a fraction of the superstructure which surrounded him and the immense power grid humming peacefully beneath his cold metallic feet was one of thousands. This Manufactorum as it was known, was quite literally a well-oiled machine. He: the lowly priest, a single pawn on the infinite chessboard of li
The lonely Legionnaire part six
For that slight moment he thoughts his days to be over, but his savior appears into a form that many marine would see as an honourable sight upon the battlefield as a brother Belimus charges at the colossal Riptide in a form a mighty dreadnought slamming its cannon off from its target. Then he immediately fires a volley of rounds away from his assault cannon directly at the suit, forcing it to back some distance away from the wounded Legionnaire.
“Are you alright space marine?” Belimus asks with loud and deep mechanic voice without letting it sight away from its foe.
“Barely Belimus, but we need to do something about that battlesuit before it can cause more harm.” Legionnaire replies while struggling through the pain and exhaustion to even get upon his feet.
He heavily relies on his blade for to walk as he slowly approaches towards Belimus one solid step at a time. The taste of blood is filling his mouth and his sight is getting a bit blurry along with every ste
The lonely Legionnaire part five
“He will receive the treatment he needs, but I think you also need some treatment legionnaire. We will finish up the rest.” Azarel replies while guffawing with little bit mechanical voice do to his helmet.
“Then I shall be counting on you Azarel. I’ll be heading back to the strike cruiser as I have someone I have to talk to.” Legionnaire says as he starts to walk away towards the closing apothecary. “Pilot I request an immidient pick up back to the ‘Faithfull’s sword’” Legionnaire calls through the vox-channel.
“Affirmative commander! Thunderhawk on route!” Pilot responses, while the Legionnaire falls within his thoughts as he roams through the rushing marine forces.
He’s so much within his thoughts he doesn’t even notice the apothecary walking beside him, looking at his hand shortly before saying “I recommend you to show this to brother Furnis.”
“I will... I will...” He re
Lord commissar Stern
Everybody thought this would be an easy assignment by what they have heard and what they had been told. Then again what truely is an easy assignment here in imperial guard...
I stand up from my office chair and head for a door at front of me, only stopping to pick up my hat, coat and lastly my trusty old power sword, which is leaning next to the door in its scabbard.
"Yet another duty awaits us old friend and as the Emperor expects it shall be done once more."
I sigh silently, feeling slightly tired by my creeping old age, even though being in really good physical shape for someone my age. This endless war has truely made me tough, resilient and outright lethal man to both my enemies and allies alike. Some may say I'm stubborn, vigiliance and ruthless by my mind and ice cold to my core... Good, let them think that even in there peaceful moments. Over these long years I have given my body, mind and soul into his service like any good and willing commissar should. It has been over forty
The lonely Legionnaire part four
Round after round of tau firing are glancing upon their already damaged armours, piercing their already wounded flesh before they finally manage to get back into their covered position. Despite the space marines regeneration genetics they’re both bleeding a quite much with Setino being in much worse shape. Legionnaire puts Setino down so that he’s lying against the fallen battle suit before recovering his blade.
“Sergeant! Any word from the captain?!” Legionnaire calls out as the recruit rushes to them only to end up hearing the roar of anger from legionnaire “Back into your post space marine! You still have work to do!”
The recruit doesn’t answer anything back and immediately rushes to his post as he does not dare to say anything back to furious legionnaire, but someone else does. That someone is Setino who calls out to “I apologize for the rookie commander, he doesn’t yet have enough battle experience to handle these things as we
The lonely Legionnaire part three
All seven of them charge through the rapid volleys of pulse and plasma rounds, clashing upon the xeno ranks with their monster like resolve and strength; slaughtering the much weaker Tau warriors around them seeming like unstoppable force despite being massively outnumbered. Between hurling rounds, flying dirty and spilling blood one of them remains quite calm even within those chaotic flashing moment. Legionnaire runs hastily towards his objective, which he has already set his eyes upon; cutting down any xeno who dares to come in his path with his massive blood stained blade. The massive suits are just beginning to turn at his direction as he tosses his blade onward like a javelin. The blade hails through the air and cuts through the first suit’s chest armour and pilot before getting stuck at the back of the cockpit. The suit falls to the ground, revealing another from behind it, pointing its cannon directly at the approaching legionnaire. He barely manages to start docking for
Mature contentYggdrasil Stories: The Burning of Aflheim PropertyofLamb 2 10
The lonely Legionnaire part two
“I’m quite surprised to see you here... Inquisitor.” Legionnaire says with little surprised tome as he walks onboard.
“It is my duty for the Imperium that lead me here space marine, but it seems you clearly aren’t from the ranks of Ultra marines so who are you and in which chapter do you belong?” Inquisitor asks as the hatch closes behind the legionnaire and the thunderhawk lifts off once again.
“I’m a proud death legionnaire of the god Emperor if that’s enough for answer, but who are you and what might you be looking from here inquisitor?”
“I’m Inquisitor Amerath from the Ordo xenos and my duties are none of your concerns as they are inquisition’s business.”
“Oh of course, but now inquisitor Amerath are you sure you can come with us in the middle of the enemy?” Legionnaire asks out making Amerath to take it little bit too much on him.
“Are you questioning my loyalty space marine?
The lonely Legionnaire part one
Upon the plains of agriculture world Imon III the screams of death and roars of blazing guns can be heard along the whispering winds. The sun is shining upon tall grassed hills, which were once like made out of gold under such a bright shine; but now they are in turmoil by blood and war. Turned into a raging battle grounds between two clashing armies from Imperium of man and Tau Empire. During the beginning collision Empire had been pushing through the poor Imperial defense with rather ease, gaining confidents as they have marched onward, but now yet victorious Tau have came across another Imperial force, which proved out to be a quite harder to defeat. The company full of Imperium’s finest are joining into the fray, starting to push back the Tau invaders as the imperial guards gain time for regrouping their forces. Soon Tau army finds itself pulling back towards their initial landing zone. Ultra marines are chasing them driving them back close after, but yet there’s one ma
The lonely Legionnaire sneak peak
Heavy steps are sounding in the air filled with ash and dust as lone terminator within his black, bronze trimmed armour and white helmet walks through the ruined streets of now tainted imperial world. Carrying along his massive weapon with two blades at each end he roams through the hive. The smell of death and corrupted brings a foul taste in his mouth yet he keeps on walking. Already fallen Ultra marines are lying on the ground and covering the walls, dead and disgraced by the followers of the dark gods. He walks the streets with only vengeance within his mind as he set his eyes upon the small group of traitors into horizon. These traitors belong to the traitor legion known as the word bearers. He rushes towards the traitor marines who’re got by the surprise with his weapon ready and his mind set to kill as he roars “For the Emperor and for the Death Legion!”
This is the story of lonely Legionnaire upon the planet of Kaun’zar and there is only war!
Written by Apothecary Meros
“You dare defy the will of the Emperor!” He growled, sending the knee pad of his Carapace Armour suit into the cranium of a kneeling marine – clad in the blighted pink and black worn by the Emperor’s Children.
“You make this all so fun, General!” It slithers through the grille on the front of its Mk7 helmet, now contorted into a wide grin to match the blaring yellow light of its eyes.
Ignoring the heretic’s slur as it stands and faces him, drawing two glinting silver bolt pistols, dripping with a thick purple slime from the holsters, the Guardsman raises his own Laspistol to his side. “Would one so damned and cursed be inclined to a duel?” He rasps behind gritted teeth.
“Why, we are simply euphoric at the idea!” It stutters, its voice shuddering with each twitch of its neck.
“We?” The General replies, standing upright on two firm black boots, within them tucked a pair