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post #1 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 01:51 AM Thread Starter
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Default Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories 13-04: Competition

Welcome to the year's fourth

For those of you that are unfamiliar with HOES, here's how it works:

Each month, there will be a thread posted in the Original Works forum for that month's HOES competition. For those of you interested in entering, read the entry requirements, write a story that fits the chosen theme and post it as a reply to the competition thread by the deadline given. Each and every member of Heresy Online is more than welcome to compete, whether your entry is your first post or your thousandth. We welcome everyone to join the family of the Fan Fiction Forum.

Once the deadline has passed, a separate voting thread will be posted, where the readers and writers can post their votes for the top three stories. Points will be awarded (3 points for 1st, 2 for 2nd, and 1 for 3rd) for each vote cast, totalled at the closure of the voting window, and a winner will be announced. The winner will have his/her story added to the Winning HOES thread and be awarded the Lexicanum's Crest award for Fiction excellence!


The idea with the theme is that it should serve as the inspiration for your stories rather than a constraint. While creative thinking is most certainly encouraged, the theme should still be relevant to your finished story. The chosen theme can be applied within the WH40K, WHF, HH, and even your own completely original works (though keep in mind, this IS a Warhammer forum) but there will be no bias as to which setting is used for your story.

As far as the theme goes, please feel free with future competitions to contact me with your ideas/proposals, especially given that my creative juices may flow a bit differently than yours. All I ask is that you PM me your ideas rather than posting them into the official competition entry/voting threads to keep posts there relevant to the current competition.

Word Count

The official word count for this competition will be 1,000 words. There will be a 10% allowance in this limit, essentially giving you a 900-1,100 word range with which to tell your tale. This is non-negotiable. This is an Expeditious Story competition, not an Epic Story nor an Infinitesimal Story competition. If you are going to go over or under the 900-1,100 word limit, you need to rework your story. It is not fair to the other entrants if one does not abide by the rules. If you cannot, feel free to PM me with what you have and I'll give suggestions or ideas as to how to broaden or shorten your story.

Each entry must have a word count posted with it. Expect a reasonably cordial PM from me (and likely some responses in the competition thread) if you fail to adhere to this rule. The word count can be annotated either at the beginning or ending of your story, and does not need to include your title.

Without further ado...

The theme for this month's competition is:


Entries should be posted in this thread, along with any comments that the readers may want to give (and comments on stories are certainly encouraged in both the competition and voting threads!) 40K, 30K, WHF, and original universes are all permitted (please note, this excludes topics such as Halo, Star Wars, Forgotten Realms, or any other non-original and non-Warhammer settings). Keep in mind, comments are more than welcome! If you catch grammar or spelling errors, the writers are all more than free to edit their piece up until the close of the competition, and that final work will be the one considered for voting. Sharing your thoughts with the writers as they come up with their works is a great way to help us, as a FanFiction community, grow as a whole.

The deadline for entries is Midnight US Eastern Standard Time
(-5.00 hours for you UK folks)Saturday, April 23, 2013. Voting will be held from 24 - 30 April. Remember, getting your story submitted on April 2nd will be just as considered by others as one submitted on April 23rd! Take as much time as you need to work on your piece! As a change from previous challenges, any entries submitted past the deadline will not be considered in the competition, regardless of whether the voting thread is posted or not.

Additional Incentive
If simply being victorious over your comrades is not enough to possess you to write a story, there will be rep rewards granted to those that participate in the HOES Challenge.

Participation - 1 reputation points, everyone will receive this
3rd place - 2 reputation points
2nd place - 3 reputation points
1st place - 4 reputation points and Lexicanum's Crest

If you have any questions, feel free to either PM me or ask in this thread.

Without further nonsense from me, let the writing begin!

Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories Challenge 13-06: "Serenity" has started, get your stories in by July 11th!

Originally Posted by spanner94ezekiel View Post
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post #2 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 05:55 AM
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Had some free time today, so why not go ahead and start this thing off!

EDIT: Made a small edit, for some reason one of the sentences in my beginning paragraph got cut off. It's fixed now.


“I am bedazzled by your true nature, underneath the web of lies and deceit, who are you? What lies past the anguish and despair you show so subtly? I know it’s a tranquil heart.

The skies above the baleful wastes of Urejedia were a dab of crimson fused with the elegant, star littered blackness of night. The chill of the night bit at her through the body glove as she sped through the skies on her Reaver Jetbike. She was leagues above the surface, darting past great canyons and deep valleys of deep red soil that stretched on towards the horizon until the earth and sky touched and became one.

Myr’ai glanced down upon the Exodite planet, locating and noting each and every one of the hundred pockets of civilization scattered across precious Urejedia. Some were great cities, hubs established by the Craftworlds in pursuit of dream that one day the surface would be teeming with Eldar. The idea had attracted her kin from every corner of the galaxy, not to enslave the planet, but to join the bright future that had been constructed for it.

The engines of her anti-gravitation bike screamed throughout an otherwise silent night, howling to all of Urejedia’s moons like a wolf calling out to his pack. The rapidly moving clouds were so close, she was practically skimming them as she rode further into the distance with her companion.

Nelu’nas was proudly flying the skies by her side, leaving a trail of blue exhaust in his wake as his Craftworlder bike blazed through the wintery chill of the night to keep up with her. He swiftly passed her in a showy display of skill, looping around her once before shooting up into clouds themselves. He did not come back down.

A knowing smile crossed her lips, though invisible beneath her helm and she took up the challenge. Myr’ai accelerated her speed to the point that she considered break neck and steered the mighty jetbike upward into the clouds. A strange mist surrounded and blinded her and yet she seemed unfazed, parting the very fabric of skies themselves as she eventually sky-rocketed into the atmosphere above rain, thunder, and lightning.

For an incredibly brief moment, Nelu’nas appeared as if he was traveling toward anyone of the four discolored moons overlooking Urejedia. He arrived back closer towards the earth, finished making a trail that looked very similar to a rune known mainly as “Free Wind” with his exhaust. Myr’ai piloted her bike to veer sideways, coming in hard to make a rune of her own while Nelu’nas circled back around to meet her. She weaved her bike further up into the sky and back down again, sweeping from left to right, forging her own symbol in the night sky.

“To be free is an elegant sin?” Nelu’nas sounded confused as he came up beside her. The pair of jetbikes slowed until they were sitting in the midst of the air on anti-grav engines.

“Your kin only know the Path and all of its ways and we, we Dark Eldar are not free as well, so long as the great Tyrant remains to command us. So I thought it fitting.”

“Having trouble breathing yet?” Nelu’nas laughed beneath his helmet.

“Only a little, let’s head back down.” Myr’ai kicked her vehicle into gear and quickly began descending back down towards the surface. Nelu’nas followed in her wake.

The pair of Eldar swept down through the air, following an invisible trail leading back towards Eyesidia: one of the major colonies on the Exodite planet. They were soon weaving through tall sky scrapers with great domes at the very top of them. Some held massive palaces while others were simply great complexes or terra-formed bio-domes; they were only the very tip of the massive settlement that laid beneath.

Eyesidia was alight in a rainbow of magnificent colors and congested with a steady stream of air traffic. Normal Sky Runners skimmed through the air in between great columns of much larger vehicles intersecting at certain intervals above the city in multiple layers. All below the massive space faring vessels of the Craftworld armada ascending or descending to and from the city’s star ports, probably ferrying people from the dockyards above the Urejedia’s atmosphere.

Myr’ai and Nelu’nas passed a group of wild riders who dashed by at incredible speeds, another race above the empty alleys of the Eldar colony. They shared a laugh together as they came down to a landing pad and gently parked their bikes beside a group of empty Sky Runners.

“Home at last! I don’t think there’s an experience in the entire universe that could bring such joy as riding into clouds, never coming back down until you see fit. Until you wish to see things that have been in front of you all the time.” Nelu’nas ripped his helm off and dismounted, he seemed so untied to everything that made Craftworlders so stiff and unpleasant to be around in his bright red suit of mesh.

“Hmmm, are you talking about me?” Myr’ai lifted her helm off her head, letting long curly hair the color of blood spill across either of her shoulders. Her pallid skin around her face was marked with several tattoos that spoke of her allegiance to the Cult of Blinded Blades. Some of them spoke of her many kills and successful career in the arenas of Commorragh, it did not seem to bother her strange and cheery companion.

“And what if I was, hmmm?” The Shining Spear pilot slowly approached her, proving not so intimidated by her cruel eyes and scowl.

“Let us go out into the city tonight, I’m starving for a drink.” Her look of pure evil slowly melted away into a warm smile, she playfully punched the Aspect Warrior on the shoulder and began walking off toward the large apartment complex awaiting their return.

He lagged somewhat behind her, staring off into the endless civilization surrounding them.

“Yes, until you wish to see things that have been in front of you all the time.”

Word Count: 1,014 Words

“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
-Glen Cook, The Black Company

Tales of Heroism and Bravery, in the 41st Millennium and the Old World. Perhaps some Realm Gate Wars in the future .

Gods' Hall (Completed)

The New Word (Completed)

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post #3 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 07:55 AM
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I'll throw my hat in the ring here. Good luck to all! This is 1087 words according to the counter in MS Office.

Survival of the Fittest

In truth, Brother-Apothecary Narel of the Deathwatch had great respect for their prey. Where the others of the kill-team scoffed and prayed as the foe was mowed down, Narel often examined the creatures they slew- and so often was impressed beyond measure.

He had been impressed when on the frozen wastes of Lycinth the tyranid swarms menacing the refineries and huge harvester-landships had evolved thick furred coats and blubbery outer layering, others simply adapting to the conditions by allowing themselves to freeze solid.

He had been impressed again on the Horizon of Knives, a great and terrible hulk. The creatures aboard had been thin and grotesque, made to squeeze down narrow access ways with all their fangs and claws to the front, powerful leaping legs and thick mantles of armor.

And now he was singularly impressed by what they were hunting today- and he hadn‘t even seen the creature yet. The reports from the Guard had been enough.

[Auspex is clean. Leading combat squad is moving forward.]

The kill-team was varied, as always, the forward team a pair of veteran Sternguard, scouting the dense urban environment. Long ago the planet had been a hive world- until nature had flowed up over the hives and taken over nearly overnight. Grass poked up through the rent asphalt, trees decorated the buildings. If the death toll hadn’t been so catastrophic, it would’ve been starkly beautiful. The marines had small clusters of algae and moss on their armor just from the day’s exposure.

“Following team is pursuing, maintain spacing,” the captain said- the man was stern and pious, the very model of a Salamander. Narel had watched the man’s combi-melta go right through a Warrior organism on Lycinth. In addition to the captain and Narel, there were two others- Fisken, a Howling Gryphons veteran who carried his own late captain’s power sword into battle, and Wyre, who sported the team’s heavy bolter.

[Getting something on auspex,] one of the leading marines said. The four trailing soldiers stopped- Wyre resting the heavy bolter on his thigh, looking around for targets. The wind blew gently through the empty street, passing overgrown ground cars and past deserted storefronts with bits of glass still poking through the dirt and weeds.

“Do you have a visual?”

[Negative. Patching it to your auspex.]

Narel looked down at his own auspex device- suddenly relaying the unknown contact, a bright red skull amid the chaotic ruins.

[Movement. Leading element going silent.]

The little red skull twitched, then disappeared.

“Ready weapons,” the captain growled, “Move up.”

The four marines stomped over the asphalt and debris, entering a large warehouse with Munitorum crates stacked ten high in places. More greenery decorated the crushed ceiling, the spaces letting in streamers of light. A large, two-foot wide grate was set every ten feet on the floor to drain water- now choked with soggy moss and mushrooms.

“The guard said we can’t trust the vox,” Fisken said rather suspiciously.

“The guard also said that their harvester-ships could outrun a swarm in Lycinth’s winter,” Wyre replied dismissively.

“Quiet,” the captain demanded, raising a hand to stop them in a small loading area. A pallet mover was sticking from beneath the roots of a tree, some vines wrapped around it’s forks, “Do you hear that?”

Narel cocked his head, boosting his helmet’s audio. As if from a great distance, he could glean a faint dripping noise. There was a sudden clang that made them all start.

“Lead element,” the captain said, “Break vox silence, what do you see?”

[Negative,] the lead element responded with a hiss, [Silent.]

Fisken tightened his grip on the old power blade in his hand, looking around. The crates creaked in the wind, worn metal complaining as it was stressed by the weight of the crates and plant life above.

“Lead element, you will tell me what you see,” the captain snarled, much more sternly.

[Auspex is clean.]

“Captain, there’s nothing on the auspex,” Fisken said suddenly. Narel looked at his own again, heart slightly catching in his throat- no red skull- and no indicators for the leading team.

The captain clicked his teeth, “Move forward. Reestablish contact with the leading element. For the Emperor, brothers, advance.”

As the Deathwatch moved forward, Narel turned to glance behind them, bolter held at a lazy ready position. Wyre followed his line of sight, the fat barrel of the heavy bolter tracking as the marine stepped backwards. The ammo feed clinked quietly. The apothecary only turned around when Fisken began to scream. A long bleat of bolter fire tore up the decking where the captain had been standing, just as the marine had set his foot on the grate- and then he had been gone, a loud clanging noise echoing down the drains beneath their feet. The trio condensed, looking around- the grates covered the floor.

“That was it- the target, the xenos,” Fisken stammered, slapping a magazine into his weapon- and then Wyre suddenly lurched backwards, the heavy bolter spitting and blowing huge chunks out of the ceiling and wall as a creature burst from the decking, disemboweling the marine with a single swing of scythe-like claws. It’s carapace was drenched in gore and muck, moss and mushrooms clinging to chitinous armor plates.

Fisken stepped over Wyre’s body as Narel aimed his weapon- stopping as the Howling Gryphon got in the way. The marine screamed out a battle cry- and then hesitated.

“Do you have a visual?” the captain’s voice asked as the creature‘s vocal cords abruptly shortened and lengthened- visible through the somewhat thin hide of it‘s throat, “You will tell me what you see.”

“What?” Fisken asked the creature. The ancient power sword clattered to the decking as the tyranid swept forward, taking his arm off. The marine howled and put a bolter shot through the thing’s midsection and it let out a bloodcurdling screech as Narel did the same, firing on fully automatic. It killed Fisken a moment later by taking off his other arm as he struggled to aim, then latching huge jaws onto the man’s helmet and crushing it into a pulpy mass of ceramite and gore.

And then Narel understood- he’d been the only one to ever be impressed by the terrible things they had seen, the things they’d killed. It wasn’t malice that drove this being- even as it reached for him with enormous claws and bloodstained fangs, illuminated by the last shots of the Apothecary’s bolter. It was merely competition among predators- survival of the fittest.
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post #4 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 11:17 AM
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Did anyone else need to look at the title again to make sure that Competition was the topic and not just a description?

Also, two entries on day one? Impressive dedication to writing.
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post #5 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 11:25 AM
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Originally Posted by Dave T Hobbit View Post
Did anyone else need to look at the title again to make sure that Competition was the topic and not just a description?

I'll be writing something for this one for sure, perhaps something more worthy than last month...


Please have a look at my space marines.

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post #6 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 01:54 PM
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Originally Posted by Dave T Hobbit View Post
Did anyone else need to look at the title again to make sure that Competition was the topic and not just a description?

Also, two entries on day one? Impressive dedication to writing.
Yeah, I had to check thrice, too.
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post #7 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 06:22 PM Thread Starter
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Originally Posted by Dave T Hobbit View Post
Did anyone else need to look at the title again to make sure that Competition was the topic and not just a description?
I am truly a fiend

Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories Challenge 13-06: "Serenity" has started, get your stories in by July 11th!

Originally Posted by spanner94ezekiel View Post
3. Nothing Boc said should ever be taken seriously. Unless he's talking about being behind you. Then you run like fuck.
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Catacombs: (1062 words)

It wasn’t the first time he was to accompany his master to a duel, but it was by far the first time he was to accompany his master to a duel with the grandeur of this one, a gladiatorial feast seen only once in a human lifetime.

Marnix Tirratus was a servant in the Liberine Saints chapter of Space Marines, a chapter known for their elegant ways with a sword.

‘’Marnix, pay attention.’’ His master spoke to him.
‘’I apologize, my liege.’’ Marnix replied, bowing his head as he tried to suppress a shiver that made its way down his back.

Marnix accompanied his master, carrying his master’s left sword, a great honor which had befallen upon Marnix.

The right sword was carried by Tessa, his companion and fellow servant.
Tessa didn’t speak, she wasn’t able to.

Once she had spoken up to an officer in the Imperial Guard, the officer had raised his pistol at her as a means of intimidation, trying to get the young woman to behave. The weapon accidentally fired though, and Tessa’s voice box had been damaged beyond repair.

She had no trouble communicating however, and her hands were often used to relay her thoughts, though never again towards an officer…

‘’Adrian, it is good to see you my friend.’’ Marnix’ master bellowed at the sight of his long time companion with a smile on his face.

‘’Likewise, brother.’’ Captain Adrian Vyper of the Space Angels III Company replied, returning the smile.

Marnix and Tessa bowed their heads once more, awaiting their master’s command to hand him his weapons.

‘’So it is true?’’ Captain Vyper asked, removing his crimson cloak and handing it to one of his servants.

‘’Aye, we are to clash swords.’’ His master replied.
‘’Expect no quarter from me, brother.’’ Captain Vyper joked. ‘’For I am certain not to be given any by you.’’

‘’I expected nothing less of you, Adrian.’’

‘’Marnix, Tessa.’’ His master addressed the servants. ‘’My swords.’’

Marnix and Tessa each offered him a sheathed sword, the hilt of each blade extended towards the warrior clad in white ceramite.

His master grabbed each hilt and unsheathed the swords, revealing their silver, curved blades and the golden thorn bush patterns engraved upon the blades.

He spun the blades in hands, feeling their weight before gripping them securely and activating the force fields, encasing the swords in a bluish light.

Marnix was amazed at his master’s skill with a sword, but when he displayed his true skill it was met with nothing but awe.

The swords started spinning in his master’s hands once more, nearly stripping the paint of his armour and cutting through the cloth that hang from his abdomen.

Yet he was in full control as the swords passed behind him and he spun on his heel, the swords passing between the arm that wielded them and the torso the arms were secured to.

‘’An impressive display.’’ Captain Vyper remarked. ‘’But I will only be truly impressed if you manage to best me, brother.’’

‘’Shall we then?’’ His master replied as the swords came to rest beside him, his grip firm on their crimson, leather hilts.

‘’Best of luck, my lord.’’ Marnix said as he stepped back, a sword’s sheath still held in both his hands.

His master entered the fighting grounds through a large, marble arch and raised his arms as a crowd cheered for him and chanted his name.

Marnix could not see the ensuing battle, but the sounds of meeting swords and armour in combination with the sounds of the crowd gave him an impression of the battle.

His master was struggling, he could tell by the unmistakable sound of a sword meeting a shield, and his master carried no shield.
But perhaps it was for the better, it meant he was on the offensive, able to strike at his opponent.

Right now there was no real way of knowing.

For over twenty minutes there was the sound of fighting and the crowds response to the display of martial skill before them, yet the fight went on each time the crowd seemed certain blood had been drawn.

Suddenly there was a grunt of pain and the crowd was silent in awe. There was no cheering, no chanting, no applause.

He heard heavy ceramite boots come his way and he dared to raise his head as the two space marines came back into the catacombs.

Blood stained both their faces and their armours both had marks of sword cuts and dents in them.

‘’A shame.’’ His master said, his voice not allowing for any doubt in the duel’s result.

‘’Aye, though, sadly, there could have been only one victor today, friend.’’ Captain Vyper replied as he handed his shield to a pair of servants, their joint strength barely enough to raise the shield.

‘’Perhaps in another hundred years.’’ His master said as Marnix and Tessa each raised a sheath so their master could sheath his swords.

When he turned to face them Marnix saw proof of the duel’s result, a large cut in his left flank, blood trailing down the side of his white ceramite armour.

‘’More than enough time to train.’’ Captain Vyper said. ‘’Will you stay, watch the other matches?’’

‘’Alas not, brother.’’ His master replied. ‘’My captain was quite clear in stating that I was to return home as soon as possible, a campaign awaits us.’’

‘’I understand.’’ Captain Vyper said as the two warriors embraced. ‘’Best of luck then, and perhaps I will see you here again, in a hundred years.’’

‘’Perhaps.’’ His master replied. ‘’Though I hope we will fight side by side before that day, brother.’’

‘’As do I.’’ Captain Vyper said as he re-secured his cloak to his shoulders.
‘’Until then.’’ His master replied, turning away to exit the catacombs, this time through an arch that led them to the landing pads where several craft awaited the warriors that partook in this championship, ready to bring them back to their ships.

Marnix was saddened by the fact his master didn’t win the duel, but there would be others, both on the field of war and in arena’s such as the one he was standing in, and one day, long after Marnix had died, his master would conquer this very same arena, of that he was certain.
Today’s tournament however, was over.


Please have a look at my space marines.

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A Peculiar Debate

Smoke blotted out the blood red sky above Syrenio IV, a planet declared ripe for the slaughter. For Akem'Heka it was the perfect place to to test his newest discoveries, to Sunder flesh, to reduce mighty tanks to nothingness, to turn a proud loyalist worm into a muling wretch. Indeed the weaklings were too busy pelting the Sorcerer's unholy ceramite, too late delay the inevitable. The Thousand Son's golden eyes picked out one who stood out , a Commissar, no doubt to enforce the Corpse-Emperor's will. Akem'Heka's hand balled into a fist, flames of coruscating Warp energy lapped around it and lightning crackled from his force staff. As he reached out his ensorcelled hand, the Commissar began to convulse. Blood streamed from his features, immense weeping pustules manifested in the human's flesh...the same appeared on the men he was assigned to. They then fell to the rubble-strewn ground, their now rotten flesh ruptured, like victim's of the life-eater virus.

Akem'Heka snarled, that was his kill to make. A voice, coming from a throat caked in phlegm,echoed within his mind, feeling the decay of time Tzeentchian?As it finished it's sentence, the voice's owner emerged from veil of decaying gasses emerging from the slain guardsmen...or rather the mulch they had become. Power armour, once a resplendent light green, was now a rotted bronze, pustules and pale bloated flesh manifested within the ruined parts of the armour. The Nurgle Sorcerer's helmet was encased within the flayed faces of those who dare insult his patron.

Setting aside his outrage, Akem'Heka smiled, "ahhh, Hemorrhago Bileas I see you are not festering within that charnel house you call a ship".

The faces on the Nurglite's helmet moved in accordance with their bearer's words, "and I see your master's capricious whims have yet to render your soul asunder." The faces then twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile "Come to admire my pestulent masterpieces, oh the sweet mortification of their flesh conveys the corruption of the Imperium, do you not agree?"

The Thousand Son, frustrated as he was by this walking mass of maggots, could not help but agree; "true, but it lacks that writhing sensation of change but most importantly it lacks..." Akem'Heka's eye lenses burst into incandescent flame and his staff followed suit, "it packs my personal took a kill which was rightfully mine".

Hemorrhago laughed, "really Son of Magnus? I did not see our name written upon they go the embrace of my master, to be clutched to his decaying bosom." The Death Guard then brandished an axe caked in the most wretched filth known to Daemon and mortal kind.

Shouting then echoed throughout the streets, more guardsmen to he fed to the grinder. The Sorcerer of Tzeentch snarled "we will settle this later pus sack, right now wr have more pressing issues to deal with" As the first guardsman appeared from around the corner, Akem'Heka snapped his armoured fingers, the human quickly burst into ethereal flames that scorched body and soul alike.

"Bah!! Child's play Tzeentchian" declared Hemorrhago. The Death Guard tore off his helmet, revealing a rotted visage that would drive a mortal insane and spewed forth a sickly green liquid. No sooner as it had hit a guardsman, the unfortunate human's flesh had began to melt.

Akem'Heka's eyes then turned to another human, the Sergeant no doubt. The Thousand Son's sight pierced into the Empyrean itself and gazed at the mortal's soul. Reaching out his hand and plucked the faint light from it's corporeal vessel. With his sight returning to materium, the Sorcerer of Tzeentch admired the results of his endeavour. The human simply collapsed, his men paused in horror at their leader's sudden death. A surge of green flashed in the corner of his eye, the Nurglite hurled himself into the preoccupied humans.

Setting about them with plague-infused axe, Hemorrhago slaughtered the mortl's only to leave one standing. The Death Guard's hand clamped around the human's face, a simple flex of the fingers was all it took to wrench the screaming guardsman's face off. The Nurglite's cataract-ridden eyes caught a vibrant glow and he turned around, "is not too late for your fancy pyrotechnics Tzeentchian?" All he received was laughter.

"I do not think so" replied Akem'Heka. In response a small warp rift opened beneath Hemorrhago's feet, the Plague Sorcerer clung to the edges of reality. The Thousand Son leaned to gloat over his victim, "know this maggot-kin, all change; from purity to putrifaction, from life to death, it all serves the lord of Change's whim."

Hemorrhago roared in outrage, he had underestimated his foe, "I'll see you in Hell Son of Magnus!!"

"After you blighted one" chuckled Akem'Heka as the rift swallowed it's repulsive meal. The victorious Sorcerer than came across the Death Guard's recent trophy and dropped on the faceless previous owner, "here, call it a consolation prize...not that you will be needing it anymore."

When the sky falls down, The Dead sleep no more. Can you survive as your world slowly tears itself apart?

"When life gives you lemons...BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD"

Last edited by Farseer Ulthris; 04-01-13 at 11:37 PM.
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post #10 of 25 (permalink) Old 04-01-13, 11:55 PM
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Good stories so far guys and girls I'll post something up later in the month
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