Falki ejected the empty slag canister, the molten cylinder evaporating the packed sand under his feet. Slamming a fresh canister into his weapon, he popped up from his dune to check to see if the Sons had returned. The barking of bolters and the arcing of lightning aimed at him was a minor indication that they were still there.

"Kreka, take the the left flank. Ulfir, take the right. I'll take the middle and see if I can't take down the monster in the pack." Falki told his orders to the remaining three in his pack. They nodded as they donned their helmets. The targeter in Ulif's informed him of the incoming mass of enemy marines. He screamed a wolf howl as he slammed the Heavy Bolter into the sand mass in front of him. The Marines were being killed left and right, but there was no end. Ulif died out of ammo, chain sword in hand, screaming as he jumped into the enemy flanks.

Kreka shared a different fate. His Plasma Cannon screamed death as the super-heated plasma rounds punched into the Rhinos of the Sons. He managed to take down three Rhinos and a sorcerer before he was struck by a lucky bolter shot that pierced his eyepiece. He went down as his Cannon was overheating.

Falki didn't notice the mass of plasma detonating behind him. He smashed his way through enemy with the Multi-Melta, liquidating all who stood before him. He made it 50 feet from the sandtrap that the Long Fangs had created before he made his final shot. The might of the Land Raider was going to take down the small force of Wolves who still stood guard at the outpost. He needed to make it. With a cry of "For Russ and the Allfather!" he pulled the trigger. The melta burst punctured the hull of the damned vehicle. It ruptured, and out of it's maw came a mighty fireball of death and pain. Dropping to one knee, Falki looked at his work. He was smiling as the sorcerer drove the blade into his chest. Falki died laughing.




"Skalla, we have deceased." Herdis walked to the battlefield. It had been three days since the Bastion in the wastes was saved by Skallagrímssonar's men. The search parties went out looking for the five missing Wolves, Ulfir, Grimson, Kreka, Olef, and Falki. No sight was made of them until now.

"Herdis. Make them a Pyre, bring their equipment back with you." Skallagrímssonar stood at the bridge of his mighty vessel, Kraken's Maw. It was a venerable ship, older than anyone on board, including the Dreadnaughts. He took a drink of Frosthead, and got back to work. "This is where we will stop Arhiman. At the Bridge Troubador." Pouring himself another glass, Skallagrímssonar the Vengeful, Loki the Ancient, and Erik the Icemane began to discuss the next move of their Great Company. They were going to end the war on this godforsaken planet, once and for all.