Necropolytic Nightmare - Wargaming Forum and Wargamer Forums
Original Works All user written fiction from any Games Workshop setting should be posted here. Please use the drop-downs to denote which setting your story belongs.

Reply
 
LinkBack Thread Tools Display Modes
post #1 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-18-11, 08:28 PM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default Necropolytic Nightmare

Necropolytic Nightmare



The Barranian 213th Regiment moved closer to their goal. More fearful of the words coming from their Commissars mouth and his harsh penalties for perceived cowardice and weakness then anything the rebels of Skelton Prime could throw at them.

Trooper Gar Saneck sighted the commander of this particular group of rebels in his las-rifles sights and fired, he smiled as he saw the head explode in a puff of blood and matter.

The body swayed for a moment then in a comical way still moved a few steps, like the proverbial headless chicken then fall forward into the muck and slime that weeks of battle had turned the battlefield into.

The Skelton rebellion had been going on for over three years now. The ruling elite not only breaking their loyalties to the Imperium and the Emperor which, in itself demanded a high price to pay but they then proceeded to execute all the Imperial Staff and representatives in what was now called the week of a thousand kills.

The Arbites
had responded to a citywide riot in the capital of Rufforth, which, as was expected by these fierce upholders of the Emperors laws and justice, they quelled ruthlessly and effectively.

What the Emperors Justice did not expect was the outlying towns and villages to rise up in rebellion. Even as the head of the senates’ speaker fell to the ground, the second wave swarmed in.

Despite their harsh training and their famed discipline, even the Arbites could not hope to stand against such vast numbers of baying men and women. The worst crime that Saneck had heard of and one that had made him feel sick to his stomach was a group of female Arbites had tried to herd the children out of harms way.

The children, all twelve of them detonated explosives hidden on them that not only killed them but also destroyed the section house. Skelton Prime had fallen spectacually from grace.

The Astropathic Choir had sent out an emergency SOS and by the time the Imperial forces had responded all out rebellion was in force. The renegades had killed the priests and any who had sought to stop what they saw as a righteous war against the tyranny of the Emperor.

This had also made them ripe for other less savoury elements to take notice of their struggle and renegade forces of traitor guard began to arrive to bolster the forces of the rebels.

That was three years ago and a war of attrition had now set in. The Barranian 213th alongside the Voxala 29th Armoured Corps and the Yusial Airborne division had warred alongside each other, their goal the same, to retake a world of the Emperor no matter what the cost.

All of them were the Emperors Hammers and they would teach these heretics a lesson they would never forget, no matter how long they had to fight to do it.

Saneck got up as his Sergeant told them to hold; his once pristine dark green uniform was now the colour of thick undrinkable caffeine. His face didn’t look much better, mud, blood, sweat had made his twenty-nine years look more like thirty-nine.

“Ok Lads” he chomped on the end of his half smoked and very soggy cigar “Set up camp here” The Sergeant moved to where Saneck was lowering his rifle “”Good Shot Dead-eye, the Commissar was impressed with that one”

Saneck inclined his head a little in acknowledgement “Thanks Sarge”

His Sergeant cast an eye over him “Gar, when we have the camp set up for the love of the Emperor get a shower”

Saneck smirked and went to join his comrades.

Sergeant Osara Nelsen chuckled a little. He was the man that the men and women in his squad looked too in all matters. He left the tending of their souls to the priest and the Commissar, the breaking down and rebuilding of his squad, their lives, morale training and everything else that came with it was in his hands.

Unlike other regiments they had fought along the Barranian did not clean their uniforms. The Green was pristine when first worn, but by the end of their first combat zone it was never as pristine and it was superstious thing.

Commissar Ahab Jakera, himself an expert on ancient battles had remarked that they reminded him of some old Britanni regiment from the old Terra who, in battle left the muck and dust on their uniforms as it was considered a sign of bad luck to clean it off.

Osara turned and regarded the battlefield, the bodies of the dead rebels mingling with the dead of his own regiment. This was what his forty years as a soldier had brought him. A cold detachment and inevitability that this was all he and his troops would ever be.

They would never see the twin sun sunrises of their home world again, when you took the Emperors coin you knew you were kissing your home goodbye forever. He had never lied to his troop, it never did any good for they would learn the inevitability of this long endless war soon enough.

All he could do was be as honest with them as he could and told them to thank the Emperor each night for living through the day and pray each morning that they would see the next night’s prayers.

He was a realist and pragmatic man but there was something distasteful in the air of this blighted world. He did not know what it was or even where it came from but he knew that it was coming.

All he could do was boost his troops morale, praise them for a job well done today, and get them rested and ready for the next day.
gothik is offline  
Sponsored Links
Advertisement
 
post #2 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-18-11, 11:32 PM
Senior Member
 
Mindlessness's Avatar
Mindlessness's Flag is: Australia
 
Join Date: Dec 2009
Location: The Warp
Posts: 604
Reputation: 1
Default

Good story!

If your looking for some CnC, a little more punctuation in some of the speech, but other then that, nothing majorly wrong with it.

I enjoyed it a fair bit, it looks like the work of somthingn great to come



"Physics is the only real science. The rest are just stamp collecting."

-- Ernest Rutherford
Mindlessness is offline  
post #3 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-19-11, 01:41 AM
Senior Member
 
Adrian's Avatar
Adrian's Flag is: USA
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Wichita Kansas, U.S.A.
Posts: 573
Reputation: 33
Default one of your best to date!

Great job. I do hope it continues. Self editing is always hard to do and a long learning curve to get around. I am still and most likely will for a long time be learning the editing process.

Keep up the great job, LOVE it!

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
Adrian is offline  
 
post #4 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-19-11, 07:04 AM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

thankyou very much and thanks for the rep adrian :D
gothik is offline  
post #5 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-19-11, 01:49 PM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

Chapter 2

Deep behind the mud drenched moor that was Huntendon the rebels of Skelton Prime were preparing for another attack on the Imperial forces. However when three giants entered the campsite they shrank back in fear and loathing.

Their Armour was the colour of brass but it was brass that appeared to have gone rusty with age. Parts of it were decayed and the once fine examples of honed superhuman bodies wrought in the image of their Primarch and Emperor had become large bloated bodies that spewed decay wherever they walked.

The symbol they wore was stark against such walking fetid creatures, whereas their armour was corrosion the symbol was a crimson carrion-fly and where they trod clouds of flies swarmed round their feet.

They stopped before the Commander and every head turned wondering why these – creatures had arrived here. It soon became apparent when their commander, General Hagarth bowed before them and ushered them inside his command tent.

“Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Hagarth asked with a broad smile.

The three Astartes looked to each other and all the human heard was the click of their vox.

+++ Does this human know who we are? +++ One of the Astartes voxed to his companions

+++ He thinks we are his saviours I suspect. +++ The one to the right answered.

+++ Silence let me deal with this. +++ The one in the middle who was obviously their leader silenced his brothers.

They bowed their heads and stepped back from him, their bolters tight against their chests.

With a hiss the helm came from their leaders face and Hagarth stepped back, his hand coming up to cover his nose and mouth as the smell of death and decay became overpowering.

The creature before him might have been handsome once but not anymore. His face was almost skeletal, sunken eyes and cheeks with sores erupting across his face at given intervals.

His neck was a mass of bubbles continuously bursting and disgorging green puss down his almost rotted skin. Hagarth stepped back against the wall to his command post and whatever had been in his stomach suddenly erupted in a violent explosion leaving a searing pain in his throat and mouth.

The Astartes watched non-chantley as the human continued to vomit profusely for three or four minutes then could do nothing but dry heave.

He turned to his brothers “I do believe the poor man is ill”

The other two Astartes chuckled at their leaders words and to the now pale and sweaty Hagarth it sounded like rasping phlegm.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lord Necrosius and I am here to bring victory to this world in the name of my master”

The General was about to ask when the former Death Guard ran his blade through the wide-eyed general.

“Bring our forces down…and kill everyone here, man, woman and child I will take this war and turn it into my own theatre”

The two Astartes bowed and left their master Necrosius the Undying to his own plans for a plague world in the service of the grandfather himself.
gothik is offline  
post #6 of 19 (permalink) Old 08-23-11, 11:44 AM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

The fog covered the battlefield and now it was so dense that no one could see their hands in front of their faces. The Apostles of Contagion had carried out their masters’ instructions and had ordered their own human guard to maintain their distance and keep watch on the imperials.

The former Apothecary began his rites of re-animation.

“Avus Nurgle take his corporibus et animus amorus et verum preconum in service avus. Welcome in arma imperetor facere et sint mihi in fide est”

“Grandfather Nurgle take the souls of these corpses and usher them into the service of their loving and true Grandfather. Welcome them into your arms and let them do your bidding through me your loyal hand.”

The Lieutenant of the Joachim Traitor Guard translated for his troop who had kept their heads bowed least they witness the rebirth and loose their sight or what was left of their sanity.

Already he had lost several men and women over the years to the ravages of the disease gods’ favour. He envied them for they were truly blessed to be one with the great grandfather.

But they were not Astartes and they would die eventfully still, if it were killing the lackeys of the corpse god so be it.

“Surge surge belligeratorum et vindicabit in eis, qui misit vos ad die. In nomen tuum Nugleth carne eorum bibant sanguinem eorum sicut vinum tuum munda mundis et inducam malum munditiam terram magnum alter im ... surgere iam domini tui et facies biddng”

Necrosius’s voice carried across the wind and to the dead around him and below him.

“Rise, rise warriors and take revenge on those who sent you to die. In the name of Nugleth take their flesh as yours, drink their blood like your wine and bring this evil clean pure land to the pureness of the great unclean one...now rise and do the bidding of your master” Lieutenant Karsa finished his translation and turned to see an Astartes beckon him over.

He walked over and moved to one knee “My lord?”

“Take your men and leave for the Hand of Nurgle, once the dead walk we will want you out of the way.”

“Yes lord”

“And Karsa, keep praising the grandfather and good things will come your way”

Karsa beamed with pride and went to do his lords bidding.

Brother Festinus watched with awe as the green glow that sprang from his lords’ hand and reach out to the dead. He allowed himself a wry smile The Imperials would not know what hit them.


The dead lay still, then as the green tinged fog touched their bodies with the caress of a loving parent they began to twitch. Their brains dead for hours began to spark more. They had no memories left all that had gone when they died, yet the touch of the Hand of Nurgle triggered their base instincts.

They began to move to their feet and each warrior was in a different stage of death and decomposition. Some were more or less preserved by the mud they had been laying in others, the fresh kills by the Apostles earlier whilst fresh in that they had their bodies more or less in tact, had gaping bolter wounds in their stomachs, gauging knife wounds across faces and bodies.

Some had limbs messing but they still obeyed the call of their unholy master and they no longer attacked the imperial dead they all turned to face the camp. All with one need and one need only…the need to feed.

Necrosius smiled thinly behind his helm.
gothik is offline  
post #7 of 19 (permalink) Old 09-28-11, 04:04 PM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

Chapter 3


Ahab Jakera walked amongst his men and women, his eyes dark and stern, unflinching in his belief in the tenants taught to him at the Scholariam when he was a youth.

He believed fully in the power of the God-Emperor, bravery had its rewards; heroism made you live-forever, cowardice made you burn eternally, and that lead to death. He gave every man and woman a chance to prove him or herself in battle but over the last few months he had only shot three people and that had been mercy killings.

He paused as he heard hushed whispers coming from the guard post near him. The fog was unsettling them and despite his own reservations about such a unearthly light, he was not about to let them damage moral with such talk.

“Something bothering you men?” he asked coming up behind them as quietly as a cat and making them jump at the sound of his approach.

“Yes Commissar” One of the men pointed “That fog sir…it’s just not right”

“It is fog is it not? We are on an renegade world are we not? Their atmosphere is as different to the atmosphere of your world as your world is to blessed holy Terra is it not?”

“Yes Commissar” The same trooper muttered

“Any more talk of shades and spirits and I will personally chop your head off and hang it so that you will look upon that fog for the rest of eternity are we clear?”

“Yes Sir” They all answered, knowing he would do it too.

“The only power we need fear is the power of the God-Emperor who will not find us wanting is that understood?”

“Yes Sir”

He nodded in satisfaction and was about to move away when he saw figures make their way through the fog. There was something not quite right about the way they moved.

They were moving too slowly and whilst he could put that down to trying to find their way through the cloud that had descended quite suddenly on the battlefield they still moved slow.

Or at least they did at first. The three troopers he had just spoken to vaulted the sandbags eager to help their comrades who seemed to be coming home.

“Its Kerdas and Jarrok” One of the men yelled “Come on boys lets get you back into the warmth eh? Get the doc to take a long look…. what the AHHHHH!”

The Commissar swore as Kerdas and Jarrok suddenly took chunks out of the troopers’ neck and shoulder. He was stunned unable to move as the things that had once been loyal and brave warriors of the Emperor tore into the screaming man like animals.

Great chunks of meat were pulled from the victim and swallowed in great bites leaving a gory swamp of blood on their lower faces. He yelled at the others to come back but there were more of them coming out of the fog and attacking the other two troopers.

Bearing them to the ground and scrabbling at their tunics in an effort to get to the meat underneath, the warm blood, and the tasty meat that they so hungered for.
The mean cried and screamed as their stomachs were suddenly ripped apart and great trails of intestines were taken out and chewed on like they were nothing more then sandwich meat.

The Commissar began to fire and got some of them only to watch in horror as they got up from their wounds. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Corporal Lena.

He paused for a moment but it was the wrong time to pause and the woman snaked to his neck and tore his throat out before he could even bellow a warning. She caught him in her arms and bore him down to the ground like a mother with a child.

There was no gentleness in what she did next. She ripped his throat muscle out and gorged until she was full. Then, like her cannibalistic kin her eyes focused on the barracks.

That’s it my children the voice of their master came unbidden into their minds for our beloved grandfather…. Feed my children feed.
gothik is offline  
post #8 of 19 (permalink) Old 09-29-11, 12:36 AM
Senior Member
 
Adrian's Avatar
Adrian's Flag is: USA
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Wichita Kansas, U.S.A.
Posts: 573
Reputation: 33
Default OOOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOoo!

Zombie stuff??? You know how I like zombie stuff? Wahoo! Zombie stuff!!!

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks
Adrian is offline  
post #9 of 19 (permalink) Old 09-29-11, 12:57 PM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

looked up about Lord Necrosis and apparently its his speciality :D :D
gothik is offline  
post #10 of 19 (permalink) Old 09-29-11, 08:41 PM Thread Starter
Senior Member
 
gothik's Avatar
gothik's Flag is: United Kingdom
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Folkestone Kent UK
Posts: 2,172
Reputation: 22
Default

General Socosa chomped on the end of his cigar as he studied the battlefield plans. With any luck this rain would let up and finally they might be able to push onwards. It was strange thought that the enemies’ guns had gone silent.

He doubted they would sue for peace, their betrayal of the Emperor meant that the only peace they would get would be the end of a las-pistol or under the heel of the Inquisition.

Normally he pitied worlds like that after all it wouldn’t be very nice to have your every move watched and observed, looking for the slightest taint or action that would betray your world once more.

But this world he did not pity, the sooner he and his boys and girls were away from here and either bombed out of existence or brought under the iron grip of the Inquisition or the Administratum the better.

He took a sip of caffeine and pulled a face as the bitter cold taste made its way down his throat. He could have had a better cup made for him but he was one of these men that had risen through the ranks.

If those under his command had to eat rations and drink the foulest caffeine in the universe then so would he. He rubbed his eyes and stared into the weak light wishing that he were onto the next theatre of war and away from this place.

It was nothing but trouble.

He heard the flap open and without turning round he knew whom it would. The Commissar was most punctual when it came to his rounds reports.

“Well Commissar how is the men and women tonight?” He did not get an answer and what was that smell?

He dropped his pen and turned round. The Commissar was standing just to the side of the door. His head was bowed.

“Ahab?” He used the Commissars Christian name and then realised the smell was coming from him. “What have you been doing? Bathing in the stuff”

The smell was atrocious it was the metallic tang of blood and the smell of the dead. The Commissar was always such a clean man. His uniform was always pressed and cleaned and as the General strained his eyes into the very dim light.

A slight noise that sounded like a rasping wind came from the Commissar and the General got to his feet. His hand strayed against his las pistol as a very real feeling of fear began to crawl up his spine.

“Ahab answer me!” he ordered although he could not keep the tremour from his voice.

The Commissar raised his head and the General stepped back, feeling his bowels loosen and a warm wet patch cover the front of his trousers. He raised his pistol but before he could let a shot go the former Commissar of the Barranian 213th pounced him like a tiger with another couple shuffling in.

He screamed and roared in terror trying to shot at them but his hand was ripped from the wrist. He felt teeth rip into his stomach and tried to think of a prayer to commend his soul to the God-Emperor but someone or something ripped his skull open and began eating the soft meat inside.

As soon as the undead warriors started on the General the rest of the camp was under attack and the screams of those being eaten alive were drowned out by the sound of feeding.
gothik is offline  
Reply

  Lower Navigation
Go Back   Wargaming Forum and Wargamer Forums > Fiction, Art and Roleplay Game Discussion > Original Works

Quick Reply
Message:
Options

Register Now



In order to be able to post messages on the Wargaming Forum and Wargamer Forums forums, you must first register.
Please enter your desired user name, your email address and other required details in the form below.

User Name:
Password
Please enter a password for your user account. Note that passwords are case-sensitive.

Password:


Confirm Password:
Email Address
Please enter a valid email address for yourself.

Email Address:
OR

Log-in










Thread Tools
Show Printable Version Show Printable Version
Email this Page Email this Page
Display Modes
Linear Mode Linear Mode



Posting Rules  
You may post new threads
You may post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off
Trackbacks are On
Pingbacks are On
Refbacks are On

 
For the best viewing experience please update your browser to Google Chrome