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post #1 of 39 (permalink) Old 02-23-12, 08:06 PM Thread Starter
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Default Renegades 3 - The Fate of Prospero

what has gone before:

To Teach Magnus a lesson, The Emperor and Lorgar have charged Angron with destroying the Thousand Sons home world but to bring Magnus and his powerful inner circle back alive.

Horus and his remaining brothers are now aware of what has occured and whilst the shock settles amongst the Primarchs that are not privy to the Emperors plans, The Wolf King and Crimson King, much to everyones' shock and surprise; head off towards Prospero before Angron and his war hounds can get there.

Will the violence of the Rout be a match against the Gladiatorial bred warriors of the World Eaters?

Will Magnus be able to save his people and his world from his deranged brothers' full on bloody attack as well as deal with his own fathers betrayal of all he believed in?

All will be decided in The Fate of Prospero, the third story arc in the Renegades series, coming soon....
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Renegades 3

The Fate of Prospero

They had been told since they had entered the service of the Crimson King that the Great Ocean was to be feared and respected, and those that respected it would find it easier to travel and to be fair so it had been for a number of years, until now.

Captain Alim of the Thousand Sons Battle Barge The Great Traveller had his doubts, like the other Thousand Sons who were scattered the Imperium over on the Great Crusade he was finding it difficult to plough through the Warp to reach Prospero. The waves of the Empyrean were churning violently and the Geller Field around his vessel was barely holding her own.

At first it had been calm and then the closer he got to the exit point that would put him within a day of Prospero, it was like someone had flipped a switch and the calm ride became a great storm. The blast shields were down saving the sensibilities of the human crew, there were things that resided in the Great Ocean that would drive a normal human insane.

Alim held onto the arm rests of his command throne and cursed slightly as his vessel was buffered like some child’s toy. He could barely believe the summons that had come from the Crimson King; his beloved home world was going to be attacked,

He had thought that the Space Wolves had finally been unleashed against them and tried to think what punishment could warrant the sons of Russ coming to bring the Emperors Justice upon their heads. However, when he had been told the Space Wolves were with them he had been stunned, like his warriors of the 23rd Fellowship and wondered if his father had finally succumbed to warp madness.

There was no love lost between the Rout and the Psykers of the Astartes, in truth their animosity ran deeper then many believed, and there was nothing that Alim feared more then a Space Wolf in full frenzy. However, when he learnt who was going to be attacking his home world he had cursed a thousand fold.

How dare the Red Angel and his deranged sons provoke an unwarranted attack on the beautiful world of Prospero and it made him more determined to ride this wave to the land of his birth. Angron and the World Eaters would find the sons and daughters of Prospero not so easy to cull.

“We are through the worst of it Lord”

His thoughts were brought back to the here and now and he turned his attention to the Human Commander of his ship when he was not around. Admiral Acheri, a man with an olive complexion and Terran born. Alim smiled at the irony, Acheri hailed from the very land that Prospero drew its inspiration from.

His bald pallet sheened a little with the sweat he had draining from his body. Alim nodded and rose from his seat. They were indeed through the worst of it but there were still dangers in the warp and it would not do to be complacent.

“The command is yours Acheri” He spoke before placing his helm upon his head “Call me when we reach the jump point”

“Yes Lord” Acheri bowed his head and took his seat. As the human gripped the rail before him he found himself breathing a heavy sigh of relief and began to co-ordinate with the Navigator. The last stage of the journey could hold as much terror as the main part. There were occasions when a vessel exited a jump gate to find them selves on a collision course with another vessel.

He really did not want that on his conscience and began barking orders to ensure that The Great Traveller would not endure such a fate, not on his watch and not in his lifetime.

Alim glanced over his shoulders and took in the men and women working on the command deck of his bridge, he knew their names and he knew their backgrounds and if they were to die against the ferocity that was the World Eaters then he would ensure they were remembered with pride. Right now he had drills to oversee. Still he was relieved that was over, and prayed to the great spirits that the remainder of their journey would be without further incident.

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The Legend of D’eshara was like a shark as she cut a path through the tumultuous waters, focused not only on the prey ahead of her but getting to join the great feeding frenzy, the honour her name carried was singular to the Captain of the 36th Company they were on their way to D’eshara when they were re-routed to Prospero.

Captain Dietriech of the World Eater Strike Cruiser Legend of D’eshara narrowed his eyes as he saw the Thousand Son Vessel ahead of him. He clenched his fist and forced his breathing to slow, he could attack here but this close to her his vessel would get caught in the backwash and damn it those Word Bearer pansies had told all the World Eater Command Staff that the Warp would work for them.

He stayed just out of The Great Journeys sensor range and closed his eyes as he pictured what he would do once he was able to strike without risking his own vessel. This would not have ordinarily bothered him but he did want to make the planet fall to Prospero and inflict death and destruction.

He bashed his head with his closed fist to stop the whispering voices that had been constant in his mind since the conclave aboard the Primarchs Vessel the War Hound. They were urging him to fire, to collect skulls for the great Skull Throne and draw blood for the mighty Blood God. Dietriech was slowley slipping into the madness that had beset his brothers but he needed to remain focused.

None of the bridge crew dared utter any word to him, they had already heard what was happening to the human crew of other World Eater vessels who dared voice disquiet at their new orders the World Eaters had always been violent in the ways they carried out their battles but they had treated their Human crews with a modicum of respect, now they were liable to lash out at anyone that got on their nerves for the sake of it,

Sensor Officer Leraine Kelman nervously glanced over his shoulder and stammered “L-Lord, there is another vessel behind us”

Dietriech slowley turned his gaze onto the quivering officer and arched a red eyebrow “Is it another Thousand Son vessel or one of ours?”

“N – No Lord”

“Well speak up and tell me who it is man!” Dietriech roared, his already think patience with the Humans growing ever thinner. He gripped his axe ready to dispatch himself of the annoying fly and maybe then the voices would stop.

Before the terrified Human could tell him the D’seshara was buffeted by the shockwave of an attack. Dietriech roared his anger and took the head off the unfortunate officer for being too slow in answering him.

“You take that station” He pointed his bloody axe at another human “and tell me who it is that is attacking us!”

Quickly the officer leant over the headless body of Kelman and read the data

“Lord, it is a vessel of the Space Wolves…The Umbergora”

A feral grin spread across Dietriechs face “Now we shall see who the most savage, turn is about and let’s meet her head on, and the witches can wait.”
The crew did as they were instructed.

“Lord they are turning to face us” Olga Streniof, the Helmswoman of The Umbergora scowled deeply as she read her screen and then stared at the screen ahead of her. “Are they insane?”

Captain Anlaf sniggered exposing his canines a little “They are going to see which one of us is the better of the barbaric legions’. Vox…let The Great Journey know that we have their back and we shall join them shortly. Inform them that if the winds flow smoothly then we will dispense of Angrons War Dogs before he even knows what is happening.”

“Yes my Lord” The Vox-Officer, a young man by the name of Scarek immediately carried out his lords orders.

“Sergeant Dragfinn”

“Captain?” The voice of his senior Sergeant came over the inter-ship Vox

“Prepare to board and be armed for bear”

The Sergeant chuckled at his Captains lucky saying and acknowledged his order. Anlaf turned to Admiral Dag. “Bring her to within boarding distance”

“Yes Lord”

“Lord” Scarek turned “The Great Journey are asking if you require their assistance”

Anlaf snorted, his nose flaring at the mere thought of it and his braided black hair moved vigorously “The Sons of Russ need no such assistance on this, we are allowing them the passage to get to the Jump point before Angrons puppies take them out. Tell him to carry on The Rout shall take care of this impudent puppy and his litter”

He stopped by the doors that led off his bridge and saluted his bridge crew

“May Russ guide your aim gentlemen and ladies and should we not all meet again I will see you in the great wolf halls where we will break bread, eat meat and drink mead until we are called to battle once more”

“For Russ” The crew roared and carried out their duties faster and with a renewed vigour that pleased the Space Wolf.

“Give them something to think about Dag, give us the cover we require to get there without too much of a problem”

“By your command Lord and Lord?”


“Russ is with you” Anlaf nodded briskly and stepped off the bridge.

Anlaf could barely believe what was happening. He had always believed that it would be The Rout that would take down the witches of Magnus but here they were, working in harmony together. He did not like Psykers who abused their powers. Their own Stormseers were respected as they all took their power from Mother Fenris, they did not touch that which they were not meant to.

The Thousand Sons, whilst potent at what they did sometimes did not know what the word stop meant. Now the ancient enmity between his father Leman Russ and his uncle Magnus seemed to have been buried. He wondered what had happened between them for Russ to walk alongside his witch brother.

Indeed he had seen the Cyclops on a number of occasions and he was a terrifying figure when roused to war, but he had seen Magnus’s weakness, knowledge and that would be his downfall. The thing that caused a frown to crease the wolfish brow of Captain Anlaf was that if The Rout knew this then so would the Red Angel and his sons.

He kept his thoughts to himself for the moment, meeting his chosen warriors in the hanger bay. He directed them to their boarding pods and stared at the Dreadnaught that housed not only his company’s champion but his childhood friend Enoch. Battle Brother Loki Enoch had been cut down by the Eldar during the battle for Farogos Prime but, in respect of the fact that his tactical acumen and his sheer charisma made him a mourned brother the Wolf Priests placed him in a Dreadnaught so that he would continue to serve the Father and the Legion.

“Enoch, old friend are you ready for this?”

“I have my orders Anlaf”
The dreadnaught boomed “I wish I could go with you and see the hounds of Angron run like whipped puppies”

Anlaf rested his hand on the sarcophagus that housed his friends’ remains “in case they have the same idea my brother I need you here to guide the new pups in the company”

There was a murmuring from the Dreadnaught which sounded like a begrudging agreement “Mother Fenris be with you brother”

“And Russ be with you brother”

Enoch turned his massive frame to watch the chosen warriors of the 16th Company head for their boarding pods and wished them luck. Anlaf stopped mid stride and turned to face Enoch.

“If we do not return brother, destroy their ship and join our kin at Prospero and avenge us”

The Dreadnaught moved a little in acknowledgement and turning went to take his own post up. Several moments later, under the barrage of fire from The Umbergora the assault pods launched and streaked towards The Legend of D’eshara.

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The D’seshara shuddered under the impact of the assault pods; suddenly the once quiet bridge was awake. Designated areas of the ship were being bombarded with the Space Wolves attacks. They had managed to shoot some down but not nearly enough and Captain Dietriech snarled his fury as it looked more and more like the incompetent fools on the bridge were not doing their jobs.

The first few salvos from the Umbergora had taken out the Gellar field which in itself was not thing as it was already leaking substance from the warp into the vessel. He stormed through the engineering level yelling at the humans to work faster but already some were screaming and seeking to tear their eyes out from what they were apparently seeing. So much so that he had to cut some of them down.

Merciful culling’s he thought that but the more blood that flowed at the end of his axe the more he enjoyed it but he wanted more, not mere humans but transhumans like him. His so called savage cousins of the Space Wolves would make for much easier prey. Joining up with his warriors he waited as madness whirled around them.

++ Remember brothers, the Gellar field is down and that means that there will be madness. Trust your instincts ++ Captain Anlaf relayed through to his pack mates in all the pods ++ this is for Russ and ….++ He paused before he spoke again ++our cousins in the Thousand Sons. ++

His brothers looked at him for a moment then placed their helms on their heads just as their pod crashed into the side of The D’seshara. Sergeant Dragfinn kicked the hatch open and with his Captain leading the charge they emerged into the lower decks.

Humans were screaming in terror, some were backing away from things only they could see waving their arms as if to ward off some great evil beast from their worst nightmares. Perhaps out of mercy, the Wolves ended their suffering and relied on their own senses ignoring the hairs on the back of their necks as an irritation to be forgotten.

They made their way through the vessel as reports came in from other Wolves that they had encountered World Eaters and battle was joined. Dragfinn pulled Anlaf to one side as a promethium burst came down the corridor and engulfed a fleeing human.

“Blood for the blood god” The World Eater roared.

Anlaf scowled deeply, wondering what madness had taken over his cousins especially as he heard the same shout coming through his inter-squad vox feed.

++ Ignore them brothers, they are to be punished ++ he snarled and with a roar to Mother Fenris and Russ he charged head on towards the World Eater.

Maybe it was the lighting, the red warning lights but Anlaf could swear his adversaries armour was the colour of fresh blood and not the blue and white it had been. His sword clashed with the World Eater who he read was called Klienstan.

He was horrified; this could not be the same Brother Klienstan that had fought alongside his men at the battle for Jerunisan Ridge. What a glorious battle that had been sung by the company skalds for many a night. He could barely believe this was the same warrior and his hearts ached to see such a barbaric change.

“Yusef” He tried reasoning with his former cousin “It is me Hadran, put down your flamer cousin we can find an end to this without blood being spilt”

Klienstan pulled his helm off and for a moment it appeared to the Space Wolf to be the same Battle cousin he had proudly fought alongside.

“You - you have no idea what has gone on Hadran” Klienstan snarled spittle and froth coming from his mouth like a rabid dog “There is only blood and it drives me on”

“Yusef this is madness you must see that. Astartes do not fight Astartes!”

Klienstan banged his head against the walls of the corridor they were in “The – The voices drive me cousin and they bay for your blood and that is what I am going to give them!”

Anlaf raised his bolter as his former cousin, his former blood oathed brother came towards him and fired straight and true. The Bolter shell splitting his head apart like a ripe melon sending brains and matter over the walls and over Anlaf who stared as the body toppled like a giant building and crashed to the deck. He watched the body for several more seconds then nodded to himself. If this is what had befallen the World Eaters here in the Warp then there was some powerful wry indeed.

++ Chosen sons of Russ, kill them, kill them all ++ He voxed and broke into a run.

Dietriech howled to the Blood God as he took the head of a young Space Wolf, a name he did not know nor did he care, he raised the dead Astartes head above his and let the blood flow over his face and in his hair. It empowered him and even the buffeting by the attacks from their blasted vessel could not stop him from killing their kind.

This was freedom, to no longer be held to brotherhood to those he found wanting and he found these so called savage wolves wanting. They had taken some of his brothers down of that there was no doubt but he had tested his own strength against the so called sons of Fenris. They were like a pack of wondering pups without their mighty father. The Wolves were nothing without Russ to wet-nurse them and him; he was a son of the mightiest gladiator to ever walk the universe. The sons of Angron needed no wet nursing, they were taught to stand on their own two feet and to fight to the death using whatever they could or they had to their advantage.

He felt someone shoulder barge him and stumbled forward to see Anlaf, his face covered in blood and a snarl exposing his canines behind him. At last the Pack Alpha, he was going to so enjoy this, taking this skull would see his new god appeased and the voices would stop to allow him to reach Prospero.

He glanced behind him to see the trail of bodies, human and Astartes, Space Wolf and World Eater alike leading from this room downwards. The blood was flowing like a river and already the Space Wolves Apothecaries were carrying out their gory duties.

Dietriech seemed to remember the face of the Astartes before him and stepped back ah yes that was it Captain Hadran Anlaf, the great snow wolf, so called for his prowess in the snows and frost peaks of worlds he had conquered.

“Worthy opponents indeed, come let us see if the mewling cubs of the so called Wolf King can fare against the Hounds of the Red Angel!”

Anlaf shook his head and holstered his Bolter, all around him came news of the Wolves retreating back, at first he wondered why then heard the Ship communications, The D’seshara was grievously wounded and Dragfinn had ordered the withdrawal.

“Eventually Space Wolf you will see the true way of things, you are defending the Witches, the very witches that your father loathes”

“Who gives you the right to hunt them down?” Anlaf snarled his voice taking on a throaty growl.

“The Emperor off course,” Dietriech laughed “he told us to bring them in and that is what we will do, all captured Humans will go to feed his soul and the Thousand Sons will fuel the Golden Throne. You cousin are on the wrong side”

Anlaf could not believe what he was hearing, The Rout were the chosen justice enforcers of the Emperor not the World Eaters. He scowled a little and knew that he had to stop this madman and if it meant his death then so be it.

++ Dragfinn return to the Umbergora ++

++ Captain, what about you! I will not leave you sir! ++

++ That is an order I have to stop this maniac and if I don’t then all we have lost will be for nothing should I not return to the vessel then she is yours until our father makes his decision ++

Dragfinn was silent for several moments then his voice respectful as ever replied ++ For Russ ++

Anlaf turned his attention to Dietriech and smiled threateningly “Bring it on”

The battle between the two Company Captains was indeed a tale worthy of the Skalds. They eschewed their weapons, each choosing to fight bare handed, the honour of their own Legions were at stake and the test to prove which one was the more ferocious.

Dietriech was covered in blood from his broken nose and rupture eye but instead of weakening him it drove him onwards, making him stronger and in one brief opening he ripped Anlafs hand from his wrist. The Snow Wolf howled his pain and as quickly as he felt it the Laramen cells began to stem the flow of blood and the pain killers went into overdrive.

He was not down and he was certainly not out, even with one hand he was still a fighter and still a son of Russ. He charged Dietriech and bashed him into the wall causing it to implode in the shape of the World Eater, with a raised knee he drove it into the World Eaters stomach and with his right hand he drove it up in an upper cut that snapped Dietrich’s jaw bone.

He held onto the stump of his other hand and with both he bashed Dietriech across the face cracking his jaw bone. Dietriech fell to the floor spitting goblets of blood but defiantly he turned to face Anlaf and smiled crookedly “Is that all you have crippled wolf?”

With a roar born from the very valley that he had begun his life Anlaf leapt into the air and landed square on the back of the World Eater cracking his armour and his spine. Anlaf grabbed the head and pounded it into the floor and locked his arm round his opponent neck.

“The Emperor would never order such a thing” He snarled into the ear of the World Eater Captain. “This is just your insane master doing his own thing”

“Believe it if you want to Wolf, but we do what the Emperor orders”

With a roar Anlaf twisted Dietriechs neck until it snapped and he dropped it to the floor. He fell back onto his haunches only to be lifted up and he turned to see Dragfinn and Apothecary Justan either side of him.

“I told you to get off the ship” He snarled.

“Sorry Captain, I had the urge to come back and see if your sorry arse needed saving”

“Which” Justan grinned “it did not, but the 16th Company need their Alpha, we are not ready for a new one yet?”

Anlaf began to feel weak from his injuries and let him self go limp so they could half carry and half walk him.

“When I get out of here, I think I am going to get laid” he muttered causing both wolves with him to snigger.

“You might want to get cleaned up first Captain…. No she-wolf would touch you” Justan chuckled.

It was an old joke from the days the three men were blood claws, not yet full Astartes and still with some Human emotion. It was one that Justan was happy to hear and play along with.

The D’seshara was dead in space and as the Umbergora turned to fire upon her once more she exploded of her own wounds. Dragfinn, on the bridge in place of his Captain watched in satisfaction as the World Eater vessel vanished.

Their dead had been retrieved and their Canis Helix removed as well as the Gene seed ready to be born with pride back to the Fang and a new batch of recruits ready to enter the service of the Father of Wolves.

Anlaf had told him what had been said to him and as the Umbergora emerged from the jump point he began to wonder just how mad the Imperium was going. He would soon find out.
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Prospero, a world of Psykers and not much else, the world itself was fraught with dangers that would have made most normal men balk at the thought of living there. It’s legacy and often used nickname of the World of Witches and Warlocks actually only conveyed half the truth. For one city on the whole of the planet was the source of much of the Imperiums knowledge. Scholars from Prospero were in demand amongst the Universities of the Imperium; it was the home world of a Legion that had been blighted by tragedy since their inception, but more then that, it was the home world of a Primarch.

To young newly promoted Astartes Apheru Apries it was the most beautiful world in the Imperium. He had no Psyker powers, not all the Thousand Sons did hence why the majority of their commanders and leaders were but those who were not were the general Battle Brothers. He had been on two battlefields, the last on the world of Parvinia had seen him elevated to full Astartes and he wore the red of his Legion with pride.

He took in the view over Tizca, her white marble buildings all topped with spires that seemed to touch the skies of Prospero. Aside from the Psychenium, the only thing a native of Prospero was the loss of knowledge and as his gaze turned to the Great Pyramid he was reminded of stories that his scholars had relayed to him, about the pyramids on ancient Aegypt and he often wondered if that once mighty an ancient civilisation was anything like the people of Prospero.

He looked up into the sky and smiled to himself, soon their father would be home and soon they would be off gaining more knowledge for the benefit of mankind and the Imperium.


The Photep roared into real space, the sparks settling along her as she adjusted to being back in real space. The Thousand Sons aboard her prayed to the fates that they were in time to save their home world and their Brothers. Leman Russ stood beside his brother Magnus on the Stratagem, a sight that was indeed unusual, not that seeing two Primarchs together for the sons of the Emperor were known to work in tandem, but seeing these two Primarchs together, two that had such opposing views of how things were done and what was more important in the world’s schemes. The great and mighty Wolf King and son of Fenris whose savagery in battle was legendary and who had been seen by other Primarchs as the Emperors Punisher, for it was he who brought to heel those who dared to usurp the Emperor and make them pay in ways that would not be forgotten.

This powerhouse and never ending vessel of violence stood alongside the Crimson King, the only Primarch that shared his fathers’ psyker powers. All the Primarchs had psyker abilities to some degrees. Curze had his visions, Sanguineous was known to have some and Lorgar but none of them himself and, with their mutual distrust of each other, Russ, was suspicious of those who did not use their abilities like his own Stormseers and the Thousand Sons were such a group, Magnus, whilst respecting Russ as a warrior did not like his off handed attitude towards collecting ancient knowledge.

So yes, to many this would have been a bizarre and surreal partnership but, perhaps because of their apathy they were the best suited to deal with this. Already other Space Wolf vessels and Thousand Son Vessels were translating behind them and as they did so they fell into formation behind The Photep and The Hrafnkel like pups behind their parents.

Magnus glanced at his brother as real space became a settled ocean around them, Russ had said little since he transferred across prior to entering the Warp. His mind was still whirling with the idea that their father had been corrupted so completely. Magnus could understand that but he had a job to do and one of them was to save his world. There were things there that would aid the remaining sons against their father and their brothers if they needed too.

Something else played on Magnus’s mind and he moved closer to his wolfish brother. “Leman, I require an oath off you”

Russ arched an eyebrow and turned his fearsome features to his red skinned one eyed brother “Which is?”

Magnus looked away for a moment and swallowed hard then returned his gaze to his brother “If anything happens to me, if Angron…..”

“Nothing will happen to you Magnus, you are a Primarch” Russ said with finality.

“Don’t be a fool Leman; I know you are not so please credit me with some intelligence.” There was a slight snarl deep in the Wolf Kings throat but he said nothing so Magnus continued “We both know that Angron is capable of anything brother, the fates alone knew what was done to him on D’seshara to turn him into that seething mass of rage and hate.”

Russ nodded a little; he too had wondered what hardships his brother had endured at the hands of the old slave masters that had turned him into something more then what had been laid out for him. He had heard the stories of how he had killed some of his own sons when the Emperor had left him in their care and that it was Kharn that had brought him round hence why Kharn was his favoured son.

“There is a chance that he could kill me and if he does…I want you to promise me that you will find a home for my sons and my people if Prospero is rendered uninhabitable”

The Wolf Kings heavy brow furrowed deeply making him appear more like his namesake then a son of the Emperor. “And just where I take your people and your sons! They would not survive on Fenris or any of her outlying planets or moons, my people and my sons are bred for the harshness of Mother Fenris….”

“There is a world in the Yvegona Cluster, it is habitable and would suit the needs of my sons and my people.” Magnus calmly cut his brother off.

Russ turned side on to face his brother “Do you mean Kegara? Magnus that world is littered with creatures worse then those Psychenium that Prospero faces. We took that world together brother the only civilisation there was long gone and we faced superstitious nomads”

Magnus fought the urge to supress a smile, when it came to superstitious nomads then there were none more so then the people of Fenris. Instead he nodded a little “It is ideal for my people and I do not want my sons to die out because I am no longer here.”

Russ rubbed his jaw with his massive paw and then scratched his chin “IF it happens then I will see to the re-settlement but it won’t happen”

“Oh and how can you be so sure Wolf King!” Magnus, who’s patience was normally never ending was now begging to fray making him sound irritable at what he saw as his brothers refusal to accept a possibility,

“Because if you die Crimson King and we have to fight the Emperor, no one else has the abilities that you do to defeat him” Russ calmly spoke, seemingly ignoring his brothers tone “and I will not let that happen, for if you do pass into that great ethereal library assuming it exists, then we will all be doomed if father hits us with the full might of his power”

Magnus was shocked at Russ’s words. The great Leman Russ, the scourge of all psykers and their ilk had actually left him speechless. He turned his head to look down at the command pulpit.

“How long until we reach Prospero Admiral?”

“Seventeen and a half hours Lords” Admiral Artames replied bowing his head.

“Have the Astropathic choir warn Prospero and pray that we are not too late.”

Magnus clenched his fists and closed his eye, it would be a while before he was ready to send warning to his sons himself but with any luck they might just reach the system before Angron and his devil dogs. Russ saw the intent on his brothers’ face and read it perfectly but said nothing. After all he doubted they would get to Prospero before Angron, all he could hope for was that the Red Angel would not have done too much damage before they arrived.

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The world was there for him and his sons to take. He watched as Prospero began to appear closer on his screen, just a few more hours then they would be within reach of this place of witches. He had no patience for Witches they should all be exterminated as blight upon a true warrior but, his father had plans for his wayward brother and who was he to disrupt his fathers’ plans.

Angron had never been close to his father, just like Curze he had been seen as the one that barked at the enemies of the Emperor and bring their infamous wrath down on their sorry heads and now, now they had a chance to prove themselves as more then just fearsome beings to humans, they could prove themselves against fellow Astartes and he would be able to prove to Magnus that it is not Russ he should fear but him, The Red Angel, the War Dog himself.

Angron calmed his churning mind as all he could picture was streets that flowed with rivers of blood and bodies. Their heads removed and sitting at the feet of a great brass throne atop of which sat a mighty warrior encased in bronze armour. Angron had been drawn to him for his honour, there was no other god that would accept the loyalty of one such as Angron who held honour in such wide regard and who despised cowardice to the extent that within the his great fortress burned a great pit where the souls of the
cowards and those who had fled in the face of battle burned for eternity in torment.

Argon had ingenious ways of dealing with cowards and he tended to respect those that fought against them even though the outcome was hopeless. He forced his ever clouding mind to focus on the job at hand. He would not only destroy this world, he would scour it then leave it a barren rock, a mighty testament to his sons and his own victory to Astartes who dared to think of themselves scholars when they were made for war and conquest, not knowledge gatherers, that was the realm of humans not warriors’.

He would enjoy proving to all his brothers that he was more then capable of doing as his father wanted with no qualms that it was a brother. He would love to take apart his brother Fulgrims sissy boys and rebuild them, teach them the meaning of cutting the braid, of true honour and martial prowess. The thoughts churning in his head made a rare smile crease his war like visage and he even uttered a chuckle which got some nervous glances from the humans on his bridge.

“Forgive me Lord, is something amusing?” Master Ferran asked causing his second-in-command to shake his head vigorously as if to say shut up you fool.

Kharn, who was never far from his father cocked his head to one side, the Master had some stones that was for certain. Angron turned his fearsome visage to the Master of his vessel and got up.

“You would ask your betters what he finds amusing.” Angron asked.

“It is good to see you laugh My Lord” Ferran continued suddenly wishing he had not said anything. “I was just curious my apologies”

Angron rested a giant hand on his shoulder and looked around him “No doubt you were all thinking the same and yet only the Master has the stones to ask me. I was laughing my friend at how this will change things not just for my War Hounds but you all. We will become the Legion that brings the Emperors justice to those who would not heed his words.”

Ferran heaved a palatable sigh of relief “We are coming to the dark side of Prospero Lord, what are your orders?”

“Are all my sons in the system?”

“We lost contact with the Legend of D’seshara Lord but that could be the Warp interference.” Ferran explained.

“Retake your seat Master, worry not for I am in a good mood,” He leant forward and moved his gigantic head to the Masters ear “The fact you have stood up to me before has kept you alive, I like you Master Urgara Ferran, when we are on Prospero’s soil ensure that my vessel leads on the destruction of those witches and I shall not forget the service, fail me and my likening of you shall vanish”

Ferran nodded slightly totally understanding what his Lord was saying. Angron stood straighter “Soon my mortal sons and daughters, brothers and sisters we shall write a new legacy this is the dawn of the World Eaters. Its time those witches of Magnus learnt that”
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As soon as Magnus’s message reached the spires of the Great Pyramid the Leigons Commanders began organising not just a battle front but the evacuation into the Pyramid and the safe transport of all acquired knowledge, this would take hours but, hopefully it could be done in time for their father and his allies to get here before the World Eaters.

As Twilight faded to night it became apparent that they was not going to be enough time, the skies filled with drop pods that came to Prospero’s ground like torpedoes, from the skies shoots of missiles and blasts were firing at strategic watch posts around the cities outer limits. Brother Apries followed his Sergeant as he and the rest of the squad went to aid the Spireguard in their job of evacuating the schools.

Surely there had been some mistake, that the sons of Angron had been told to test the sons of Magnus, Apries had hoped that when the order came down from the mouth of the Primarch himself that it had been an organised test of the Thousand Sons battle worthiness but, as he looked up and saw the trails in the skies he knew that this was no battle ready test, the explosions of the watch towers told him that when he saw Spireguard falling to their deaths.

“Squad Anubis forms up!” Sergeant Ra-Baka bellowed, “Captain, my men will cover you until you get those children and their tutors to the safety of the Pyramid, make it quick, Angron and his puppies are not know for their patience or their discretion”

The Captain bowed quickly and began barking orders to his men to do as the Sergeant ordered. Apries noted how efficiently the Spireguard worked and were just as loyal to their father as they were to the Astartes that made up the Thousand Sons. He also believed that they would not need babysitting and he and his Battle-Brothers could focus on other things.

“Have you ever seen a World Eater Apries?”
The Brother to his left whispered as he swung his Bolter left to right and back again.

“No Senbu, I have not” Apries replied “I have seen the sons of Russ in action though, what can be different?”

“Oh trust me Brothers,” Sergeant Ra-Bakas voice cut across their conversation and they turned to see him standing behind him “There is a lot of difference between the Wolves of Fenris and the War Hounds of Angron.”

Contact fifteen kilometres….by the Great Ocean” Brother Uahbras voice exclaimed in shock.

Squad Anubis saw them and knew this was real. A squad of World Eaters, their distinctive blue and white armour standing out in the light made their way across the ground towards the Thousand Sons. Ra-Baker took a moment to assess the situation and knew that unless there was a miracle then they may not walk out of this alive, shame that three of his squad were new flesh and blood Astartes, still they would fight, and they would show these traitors that the sons of Magnus were not to be misunderstood.

He bellowed to the Spireguard to leave now, he knew they were not afraid of the World Eaters, they were Spireguard but the civilians were and had every right to be, to get them to safety was their priority and holding off the World Eaters was his and if his squad were to be the first of many battles across this mighty city then so be it, like all the Sergeants and Captains news of the Emperors change of heart had filtered through the Thousand Sons, the First Captain himself had sent word that they now fought for Horus. Ra-Baka had found this hard to believe at first but, he would not dispute the words of the First Captain, after-all he spoke for Magnus him self and if this was the way it was then so be it.

“For Magnus and sacred Prospero!
” He bellowed

“For Magnus and sacred Prospero!” His squad returned the shout and readied themselves.

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Ooh! Been waiting for this.

I have recently started a new Blog. I would really appreciate it if you would LOOK AT IT
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Sergeant Deziel Afonsei could see the Thousand Sons up ahead defending what appeared to be a building, he doubted it was of any strategic importance but never the less he had his orders. He stopped for a moment and his squad stopped around him. Their cortical implants were already beginning to tap into their brains and he could feel the violence surge around him in his squad as well as his own emotions. If he had not had one of these implants he might have seen that there was some sort of wrong in what he and his brothers were about to do, however as it was they had their orders given to them from the Primarch himself and also from the Emperor and that was good enough for him.

He had heard others say that the Thousand Sons were not true warriors, that they were witches and knowledge seekers, not the true warriors needed to be an Astartes but, unlike some of his brethren he was not about to discount the fact that they could fight. Not all the Thousand Sons were Psykers and those that were fought just as hard and as ferociously as those that weren’t. He sniffed the air and pulled a disgusted face, the stench of Psyker was in the air, despite the Nikea Edict they still reeked of it, and their Primarch would be taken in chains to the Emperor and those of the inner circle, although he had been told to keep some Thousand Sons alive he wanted first blood.

“Squad Tungus…lets show these witches how we make war” He roared to his squad mates and pulled his chain axe, up close and personal that was the way a World Eater fought and these Witches would learn that.

Ra-Bakas roared at his men to fire their Bolters and make every shot count, he did not want the World Eaters coming too close, he had studied their tactics and knew all too well that they preffered close quarter combat, once they got into that range then it would become bloody and messy and this was what they wanted.

He raised his Bolter and hesitated as he saw the World Eater Sergeant remove his helm to reveal a face so disfigured by the thrill of the hunt that Ra-Bakas thought for one awful moment he was looking at a demon. He may not be of the ways of the upper echelons of his Legion but he recognised berserker when he saw it. He sighted his target and fired; the Bolter seemed to show the trail it would take but at the last moment Afonsei moved to one side and it took down a World Eater behind him. It was as if the traitor had seen it coming, which was impossible, he had no more time to contemplate this as with a howl that sounded like the Great Ocean itself the World Eaters were among Squad Anubis and all thoughts of co-ordinated supressed fire went out the window.

Senbu drew his Gladius and ducked under the whirring chain blade of a World Eater who, according to his visors scanners identified him as Czernobog. He could smell the heat of the World Eaters breath as he bore down on the Thousand Son and it smelt like the dead. He raised his left foot, and threw the World Eater over his head but the son of Angron was faster and landed like a cat, on his feet and before Senbu could get to his feet his head was grabbed.

The pain was excruciating as giant hands grabbed his visor and tore it off taking some of his skin with it. already his Laramen cells were starting to work on healing the wounds but Czernobog was not done yet, as Senbu attempted to get his bearing he was punched at least he thought he was punched but as he looked down the World Eater had punched him alright, clear through his armour deep into his chest. What did Angron feed his warriors that they would be able to do this? Senbu raised his head to meet the insane glare of the World Eater and knew he was dead, the Astartes eyes told him that much.

He began to laugh “This is not going to stop us World Eater, we are Thousand Sons and we will endure” Czernobog correctly assumed he was being made a mockery off and with a roar he pulled the still beating heart from the Thousand Son and watched as he fell to his knees, the shock and trauma sending his body into spasmic overload, drawing his chainsword back he cut the head from the body. He picked the head up by the topknot and held it aloft.

“Blood for the blood god, skulls for the skull throne, victory for Angron”
He roared.

“Think again!” another voice growled and as Czernobog turned Apries fired his Bolter full into the World Eaters face destroying it completely and covering his own armour in the blood of the deranged traitor.

He glanced down at his dead Brother and stood over the body, less anymore of those maniacs decided to try and defile it, but what bothered him the most, aside from the brutality of these so called Astartes, was who was he chanting too and why?
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hope u enjoy it Stephen and thanks
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