[hephesto]

A while ago I met this guy Dyp on the astronomican forum and he got
me back into writing some 40K fiction. We're collaborating on the story
below involving his chapter The Guilded Knights, so below you'll find all
the chapters until now.

I had lost track of it the last few weeks, but I'm hoping to get some
more writing doen by the end of the week! So here the first 2 parts,
part 3 and 4 are in the next post


GUILDED KNIGHT

-Trail by Fire-


I. Ignorance breeds heresy


Chelas IV, just another world in the iron grip of the Imperium. Its
citizens toiling away in its many factoriums and other production
facilities, all in order to supply armies and wars they'll never even hear
of. It was an uneventful, quiet world which had never seen true conflict.
In fact they only 'real violence' could be found in the underhives of its
gargantuan cities where rival houses were constantly at each others
throats.

The magistrate in command of the planet, an arrogant, despicable man
by the name of Andras Corvan, was more than happy to ignore
these 'minor problems'. His planetary defense forces were of more use
to him in his factories, where they could 'motivate' the population to
fulfil his quotas. Reports from the severely reduced enforcer corps of a
shift in power in the lower levels of the hives to the house of Darganos
were ignored as insignificant. Their implications for the structure of
power dismissed as mere speculation.

It was only after a failed attempt on his life, by none other than his most
trusted lieutenant, that Corvan realized matters were getting out of
hand. Upon investigation of the assassin's body a disturbing discovery
was made. Most of the parts of the body that went concealed by cloths
was filled with blasphemous tattoos, centred around a symbol on the
chest of a of a burning eye. A symbol that had been linked with the
house of Darganos for millennia. Corvan immediately ordered several
of his elite planetary defense force teams to bring patriarch Karhand of
House Darganos before him.

The strike force quickly encountered severe resistance upon its arrival in
the lower levels of the hive. Every route to the keep of house Darganos
was either destroyed or guarded by large numbers of hooded men and
women. By order of magistrate Corvan the force fought its way through
these barriers, sustaining heavy casualties until they finally reached the
keep. But not a single trace of the patriarch or the ruling council of
house Darganos could be found. Other strike teams sent to investigate
other centres of power for house Darganos encountered similar fierce
resistance and were also unable to find any trace of the source of this
sudden uprise against Imperial law.

Outraged by the lack of result magistrate Corvan ordered a full division
of his planetary defense force to the lower levels of the underhive to
irradicate any trace of the followers of house Darganos. It was at that
moment the true strength of this new opponent became clear, for the
strike force was not only met by extreme resistance but also pushed
back, stunned by the ferocity and tactical skill of this unexpected foe.
But this was only the beginning, within hours reports from all over the
planet reached the magistrate and his forces. Large and well supplied
groups, who proclaimed themselves as followers of Cult of the Eye,
were engaging the planetary defence forces and taking over the many
weapon production facilities all over Chelas IV.


II. The arrival of the outcasts


Anxiously pacing past the window magistrate Corvan glared outside to
the burning wasteland that a mere two weeks ago was his world. From
his observation post on the refuelling station high above the planet he'd
seen his world fall to the Cult of the Eye. Its citizens taking up arms
against him rather then against these vile cultists. Now all he could do
was wait and pray to the Emperor for his salvation.

'If only those fools would hurry up and get that transport ready' he
shouted against his bodyguards, 'is it so much to ask to simply prepare
my vessel for departure'. He knew that within a few hours the
spaceports on the planet would fall and 'they' would come. More then a
week had passed since he'd activated the off-world beacons with a
desperate plea for help. But no replies had come and he knew that
nothing could be done to prevent the fall of Chelas IV. Nervously he
once more walked towards the communication screen to once more find
out how much longer he'd have to wait to depart from this cursed place.

But before he could reach the console a communications officer hastily
entered the room 'lord magistrate our sensors are picking up signs of
several approaching ships'. This small whisper of hope seemed to
invigorate Corvan as he frantically replied 'What kind of ship and how
many?'. All the officer could report was there were at least three ships
and that it would take several more minutes to identify them. Corvan
immediately rushed past the officer and unto the communications deck
to await the results of the analysis. His heartbeat rushing as he counted
away the second, would this be the help he had so desperately hoped
for?

Then finally his answer came, the approaching vessels were space
marines. A small battle detachment consisting of a strike cruiser
escorted by three firestorm frigates. Corvan quickly realized
that this meant that a full company of marines would soon be at his side,
he'd show those cultists what the might of the Imperium could do.

'Open communications to the cruiser' he shouted as he turned to the
large viewing screen in the centre of the room. After a few second the
image stabilized and all faces turned towards the giant of a man that
appeared on the screen. His pale features contrasting with his
beautifully decorated golden terminator armour. His stern, but slim face
seemed almost grey while his piercing eyes echoed of a past filled with
the horrors of endless bloodshed and eternal war.

Then one of Corvan's bodyguard recognized the chapter symbol and
softly, but anxiously spoke to his master. 'Magistrate that symbol, the
bleeding black cross over the red circle, I recognize it. He's a Guilded
Knight, an outcast‘. Before Corvan could respond the marine spoke, his
dark voice sending shivers down the spines of all those gathered on the
communications deck. Their look turning to horror as they saw the fangs
in his mouth as he started to speak.

'Citizens of Chelas IV I am Demas, captain of the second company of
the Guilded Knights, master of the watch and bringer of the Emperor's
wraith to all who would dare to oppose his might. Your world has fallen,
your rule has failed, it now falls my to brethren to succeed where could
not. Yet you will be given a second chance to redeem yourselves before
the Emperor. Take up arms with us and together we will cut this vile
taint from this world.'

‘How dare you’, replied Corvan, ‘I’m the magistrate of this system and
you will show me the respect I deserve. You will do as I order….’

‘As you wish, magistrate’, Demas replied sarcastically. And with that
message two Guilded Knight terminators materialized on the
communications deck of the refuelling station, quickly despatching of the
feeble resistance offered by the magistrate’s bodyguards. Panicked
Corvan tried to flee, but his own pdf troopers stopped him from
escaping. Knocked to the ground the last thing he heard was Demas
deep voice; ‘A cell seems a fitting reward for your incompetent rule,
take him away’

Turning away from the communication screen on the bridge of his strike
cruiser, the Retribution, captain Demas turned towards the space
marine sergeants that had gathered around him. 'Brothers, you all have
your orders, so go now and bring swift vengeance to these traitors'. As
the gathered marines were about to leave the bridge to lead their squad
into battle Demas spoke once more 'Not you Demeria, I have another
task for you'.

His gaze strongly fixed on Demeria he spoke, 'Brother, I have observed
your accomplishments during our last few battles and I believe that you
have shown yourself worthy of one of our greatest honour. This battle
will mark your next trail by fire, you will lead a small strike force down
to the planet to strike a critical blow to these heretics. And you do so will
wearing the terminator armour that once belonged to revered brother
Kalatar. So report to the armoury and await your orders'.

 

[hephesto]

III. For vengeance and retribution

Standing in the teleportation chamber awaiting his departure down to the
planet Demeria examined the beautiful terminator armour he now wore.
It had been several hours since he had been given this enormous
honour and some part of him could still not believe it. Surely the
Emperor had blessed him, he thought. This was more than just a piece
of armour, this was a holy relic, the second company only had four of
these ancient pieces of armour. And this one was worn before him by
some of the greatest heroes the chapter had know. Including valorous
brother Kalatar, who led the great, but doomed battle against warlord
Gahnaz the Crusha. Saving not only thousands of civilians, but also
buying enough time for reinforcements from other chapters to arrive
which eventually led to Gahnaz’ downfall.

It had survived millennia of war, during which it has aided in the
destruction of countless foes. Most praised of all was the integrated
lightning claw that pre-dated even the great Heresy. This technology,
now forever lost to the techpriests, fused the claws directly to each
finger of the armour Allowing him to wield this ancient weapon with
surgical precision.

The countdown then echoed through the room while he tightly gripped
his combi-melta. Breathing heavily the air around him gets colder as the
ancient machinery begins to do its work. Closing his eyes he gives a
final, silent priar to the Emperor before everything turned dark and the
cold intensified.

Mere seconds after the darkness and the hint of evil that lies beyond the
vision of men Demeria opened his eyes. Standing on top of the ruin of
what was once know as the great archivist's library, he looked down at
the decaying remnants of Chelas IV. In the distance he could see the
main battle line where marines, pdf troopers and even civilians were
engaging the cultists who seemed to infest every building and ruin on
this accursed wasteland of a planet. Taking a few deep breaths of air he
quickly analysed his surroundings only to find that be he’d been
teleported down to the exact point where he was ordered to await word
form the scouting party that had been down on the planet for hours. And
he was not alone.

"Report Brother Cyron", he spoke, as he slowly turned towards the scout
who had been patiently standing behind him. Stepping forwards the
young marine answered "Brother, I bring news from our scouts. The
way into the cathedral is clear, if we move now we will catch the enemy
of guard. Their numbers are few and a quick assault should easily break
their moral". Turning his gaze once more into the direction of the ruined
cathedral west of his position Demeria replied to the man who had once
been his neophyte "Never underestimate your foe Cyron, for he most
definitely will not underestimate us". With a nod he dismissed the scout
and he walked towards the stairway down into the building.

In the main hall of the library two dozen marines clad in gold armour
were gathered, each of them preparing and checking their gear. Eager
to once more test their skill against the vile servants of Chaos. As one
their heads turned towards the balcony of the second level as the heavy
sound of an approaching terminator echoed through the empty hall.
Until finally Demeria appeared above them.

As he looked at the warriors gathered below Demeria praised himself a
lucky man. The second company was seriously outnumbered in this
battle, this however did not worry him. For he was surrounded by his
battle brothers, men to which we would entrust his very soul, the finest
warriors the Imperium had to offer. "My brothers, it is once more time
for us to drive out the taint of Chaos. For we are Space Marines,
servants of the Immortal Emperor. We are his sword, his judgement
and his retribution. So once more for vengeance and redemption!", he
shouted as he raised his ancient lightning claw into the sky. And with a
loud cheer the marines answered: "For vengeance and redemption".


IV. The dark priest


Glaring through the rumble of one of the many destroyed buildings
surrounding the desecrated cathedral two marine scouts observed the
events unfolding below them. This place was once a centre of prayer
and enlightenment, but no longer. Now its was crawling with cultists and
other, more disturbing creatures. Hidden on the second floor of an
adjacent building they looked as more and more cultists flocked to the
cathedral. Among them were also the gargantuan monstrosities,
presumably once human, their hidious bodies covered with spines and
claws. They were being used as beasts of burden dragging depraved
offerings to an altar the cultists had erected in the square in front of the
cathedral.

Hearing the subtle sound of a shifting rock behind them the scouts
quickly turned towards what would most likely be yet another cultist. But
around the corner came the crouched figure of Cyron, who quickly but
quietly greeted the scouts and asked ‘Any changes?’. With whispered
voice one of the scouts replied, ‘Their numbers are increasing, but they
are still no match for the strike team. Their work on the altar is
progressing though, and could create prob…’. A loud screech from below
interrupted the scout’s report.

Fearing that they had been discovered the scouts readied their weapons
as Cyron carefully looked down into the square expecting to be greeted
by massed lasgun fire, but all he could see were row upon row of robed
figures kneeling before the altar. Kneeling before some unholy
procession led by a figure in a dark red robe, surrounded by icon
bearers, perverted priest and more cultists with red robes. As the figure
slowly moved towards the altar those kneeling coward even further to
the ground until he reached it and removed his hood. Revealing a face
that might have once been that of a human, but was now no more than
an abomination. His feral appearance completed by bestial eyes and
small horns on the forehead. As he shouted a command to his followers
a hunched-over cultist bearing a great, black book stepped forward. But
before he reached the altar explosions sounded all round the square as
bolter fire took its bloody toll on the cultists

Terrified some of the cultists tried to flee into the ruins of the cathedral,
only to be met by Demeria who quickly disposed of them. Stepping
through the once great cathedral entrance he strode into the square
strategically firing bolter rounds at concentrated groups of heretics.
Warding of blow after savage blow from those foolish enough to face a
terminator in combat he slowly fought his way to the figure in dark red
who was clearly the leader of this rabble.

Responding to the orders bellowed in some foul tongue by this dark
priest the bodyguards and the other cultists started to overcome the
initial shock of the attack. Advancing on Demeria three of the
bodyguards raised their staff weapons ready to strike. Evading the first
two strikes Demeria cut into the guards, his lightning claw
disemboweling the first and slicing deep into the skull of the second. The
third guard seemed to have more luck as he evaded a third strike from
the claw while striking back, his weapon heavily shocking Demeria.
Surprised by the sting of the attack Demeria took a step back and
prepared to strike once more. But before he could do so the guard was
send flying though the air by one of the gigantic beast of burden who
came who had fought its way through the ranks of cultist, its three dark
eyes now fixated on Demeria.

The beast charged with ferocious speed, barely able to dodge the attack
Demeria slipped past the creature loosing his bolter in the process.
Striking the beast full in the back he buried his lightning claw in its flesh,
causing it to let out a high-pitched scream of agony. Before he could
step back the beast was upon him, trying to claw and bite its way
through his ancient ceramite armour. Striking with all his might at the
creature’s head Demeria managed to hit one of the creature’s eyes.
Pushed back it reached for the bleeding socket that mere seconds ago
held one of its eyes, with its two remaining eyes burning with feral rage
it struck once more at Demeria. The force of the hit threw him into one
of the many ruined cathedral walls, his bulk causing it the shatter and
break, burying him in the rubble. Dazed Demeria tried to rise from
under the debris only to find himself staring into the gaping maw of the
beast, row upon row of crooked fangs greeting him. Ready to end his
service to the Emperor in this life, suddenly a great, blinding blast struck
the creature full in the side, tearing a hole through its entrails.

Still half-blinded Demeria looked in the direction the shot came from and
saw a man he recognized as his friend Cyron holding his combi-melta,
the weapon radiating heat. Giving a silent nod Cyron walked past him
and fired a final bolter round securing the creature was indeed dead.
Still dazed Demeria got back to his feet and quickly surveyed the battle
in the square where his men were fighting valiantly but desperate battle.
They were no longer on the offensive, more and more cultists and
beasts converged on the square, cutting of all their routes of escape.
But escape was not what was on Demeria’s mind, these heretics would
not best the chosen champions of the Emperor. Turning in the direction
of the chaos altar he grabbed his combi-melta from Cyron and stepped
towards the few marines that had nearly made it to the altar. If all else
would fail he would destroy the leader of this gathering at any cost.

Cutting his way through a dozen cultists, their weapons barely scratching
his armour, he reached his brethern. Just in time to see one of them
being struck down by even more bodyguards, their shockweapons
proving suprisingly effective against the marine’s armour. Blasting this
attacker with his bolter he looked around, hoping to find the leader of
these cultists. Until his gaze met with that of the dark priest who had
been watching the engagement with clear delight from the safety of the
cathedral ruins. Crying out a challenge Demeria charged though the
cultists assailing his position and supported by his fellow marines he
quickly closed the distance between him and his opponent.

But before he could close the distance the dark priest took the initiative
and stepped forward, revealing an armoured gauntlet decorated with
intricate runes from under his robes, while uttering a vile incantation.
Pushed his way though his followers and into the fray, seemingly
unharmed by any resistance Demeria’s brethern could muster he
pointing his hand towards the charging marines and unleashed the
powers his gods had bestowed upon him bathing marine and cultist alike
in a storm of lightning and daemonic flame. Falling to his knees Demeria
watched as both cultist and marine died around him, their bodies
consumed by the flames. As the priest ended his attack he finally fell to
the ground, the wounds he had accumulated during the battle finally
taking their toll. The last thing he heard before losing his consciousness
was, ‘Bring him‘, as several robbed figures moved towards him.

 

[hephesto]

Well guys, has been a while since I posted the first 3 parts of the story.
So what do you think of it so far, I'm hoping to get another segment
done this week. Work and inspiration permitting of course :wink:

 

[hephesto]

Just curious, has anyone found the time to read through these? I know, bit lengthy and far from my best 'work', still some crit would be nice as help for future writing :wink:

 

[torealis]

i liked it. particularly parts 1 and 2

 

[Jacobite]

Hey dude I'm sorry I never saw these before I like them I really do. They have a very nice epic kinda of feel to them, tone is good as well, Space Marines seem like they should do.

I loved the part with the Termies teleporting in, very effective both literally and in the story.

I liked the last bit in as well, nicely described action.

Looking forward to the next part, however long it may take. I know the pain in the ass it is to find time to write i.e. the frustration of having started something, posted it and not having time to finish it.

 

[hephesto]

Thanks for the comments guys, might/should get going on this one again. Really like writing, but time isn't exactly on my side most of the time. And then there's that annoying little thing called inspiration :wink: