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Okay so this is just a short story I wrothe some time ago, depending on the responses I may post more, anyway all C&C good or bad is welcome






In the dark times that currently have engulfed the Imperium of Man many wars are fought and lost, some tales go untold some are told by survivors or those who witnessed it from afar. This is one such tale.

War had come to Centurion Prime, the hive world had slipped into anarchy when several cults had reared their heads and began to openly wage war against the weak and incompetent rulers who for centuries untold had neglected their duties to the world that now cried for their blood.
The first weeks of the war had seen the PDF forces put up a remarkable strong defence but to no use. The swarms of cultists and other hostile groups had washed them away in a sea of horror.

Private Aleandrax ran like a man possessed, he was the single survivor of his company and by the Emperor, he would rather die running than to curl up and wait for death to come. He was a taunt young man at the age of 20 and considered himself a decent soldier but noting he had been taught in the PDF had prepared him for what had taken place over the few last days.
He felt cold fear and a sense of impending doom closing in on him, but there where no chance in hell he was going to give up. He valued life too much.

Behind him he could hear the shouts of the heretical scum chasing him, the high pitched voices of the mutants and the almost chanting cries of the traitor guardsmen. They fired pot-shot after him and yelled curses and threats. Aleandrax felt a taste of blood in his mouth and a sense of utter despair as he realised he could not outrun them, there where simply no where to run.

He continued to run and spitting blood and just as he thought he was done for, he realised something. He no longer could hear his enemies, it was as they simply had been whisked away. Before he could think another thought a new sound reached his ears, the loud and unmistakable sound of a large calibre weapon being fired and the sounds of battle.
Whoever had attacked his foes where clearly well armed, deciding that would need help to survive this nightmare he started making his way towards where the ring of battle where coming from.

The large band of heretics and other types of deep hive scum that had been trailing the lone PDF trooper had discovered to their dismay they where not alone, as they had closed in on their prey several massive figures had descended wings of fire and begun to dispose of their fellow cultists, the massive figures could only be one ting...... The Angels of Death.
The Space Marines hit the cultists like a meteor, several heretics was simply crushed under their weight as they landed and others where ripped to pieces by bolt pistol shots.
But most met their deaths at close quarters, daggers and clubs against chain swords and power armoured Marines was hardly fair and the outcome was predictable but still the fight was brutal and merciless

One less than brave member of the band decided to turn and flee, he never made more than two steps in the direction of safety.
A single shot from a bolt pistol removed his head from his shoulders.

“ All threats neutralized sire” one Astartes said as he pulled his growling chain sword free from a mangled and bloody carcase. Their leader a massive Marine clad in a pitch black suit of armour with bronze shoulder pauldrons armed with a glowing power sword that crackled with energy looked around the ruined landscape and turned to his sergeant who had informed him of the results of this first encounter of the night.
“ Understood sergeant, do we have a fix on our objective” the Marine said with a voice that gave a hint of his the centuries spent in the service of mankind.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Part II
Brother Captain Arkangel of the Death Hands scanned the war torn hive that lay before him and his brothers. They had descended on wings of fire and vengeance in search of the vile heretic that was the main leader of this war, so far the wrench had eluded their grip.
His ceramic encased hands clenched and he for a brief moment felt cold anger well up in him, why had the Emperor in all his wisdom granted the responsibilities of managing worlds like this to such fools. In the end it would not mater, they would prevail against the heretical rabble.

The captain did not wish to be bogged down by heretical cannon fodder at each turn, if they where to be effective they would either need a direct rout of assault or a guide to this massive urbane jungle that lay before them.

“ Oh frakk! Space Marines” thought Aleandrax as he watched the Astartes slaughter the hive scum, he felt a cold feeling of dread grip his hearth. They looked like death incarnated, but there was one figure that stood out amongst them. The space marine stood a head if not more above his brothers, he was clad in the same armour as them, but what made him look apart was the attitude he radiated, and the ornate breastplate of his armour along with the massive sword he carried.
Even thou he was shaking with fear he began to walk towards them, arms raised into the air and attempting to present a friendly body language, who knew how they might react to him. Before any more thoughts could form in his mind a single bolt round impacted with his chest and sprayed the rubble strewn street with a spray of crimson collourd blood. The former PDF survivor slapped down onto the ground with a expression of disbelief and shock on his face.

“Witness silenced my lord” the Astartes who had fired the shot said over the vox net.

“Acknowledged brother, Sergeant we hunt!” with those words Brother Captain Arkangle began his hunt for the one who had eluded his grasp for far to long, this time no one would escape, one way or the other this world would be purged. The death of a simple PDF trooper to maintain their secret were more than acceptable.

As the squads that made up his force made their way true the ruined hive they made sure to leave no survivors whenever they found them, neither friend nor foe where to know of their coming. The Imperial guard forces was in disarray and that suited them well.

After a day they had reached their goal witch was a massive Adeptus Ministorium complex he activated his vox and sent the coded signal to the massive ship waiting in orbit.
Far above the massive battle barge Divine Retribution began to move into position, when it was hailed by the system defence fleet hat inquired about its shift of course they responded with a badly hidden treats that the fleet would do wise to stay out of Astartes operations if they indented to have them on friendly terms for the remainder of the campaign. The system defence boats gave the ship and its escorts a wide berth after that chilling reply

As the Astartes on the ground entered the complex they knew they where being observed, but not by whom, had they known they would most likely been a bit more cautious. But benign able to tell the future was not a ability Brother Captain Arkangle had.

I like the story, it's interesting to see how the Space Marines are regarded amongst the common man, and I so pitied him when they silenced him.

The Death Hands seem extremely ruthless. At first I actually thought Grey Knights, then Black Templar, though I sort of guess they are of Iron Hands-origins now.

Nice and brutal! I like the seeds of mystery you're sowing regarding the Death Hands. Like Beaviz81 said, they sound Iron Hands-ish.

The tone you use is fitting - you get the impression of a spoken narrative, like a fireside saga. More please!

@ Beaviz81 : Tusen takk, ja det var den vinkelen jeg tenkte meg og få til

@ Necroagogo : Yes they are very willing to shed blood. More info on them will come, I expect to have some more up by this evening depnindig on my mind

Very nice looking foward for the next part of the story.

Trondheim wrote:@ Beaviz81 : Tusen takk, ja det var den vinkelen jeg tenkte meg og få til

I commented in English as personally think the English only lads like that.I understand Norwegian perfectly due to native language and all that. You managed that nicely and it was a joy to read about. There is far too little developed about them and other great chapters.

If you want to chat Norwegian with me, I would advice you to do that at private.

Here is what you asked for. More may follow tomorrow Emperor be willing


Part III.



It was Sergeant Lyandros who first spotted the tell-tale signs of their prey, he and several others had split from their main force and scouted ahead. “ My lord, the dregs of chaos has been here. And it seems they left a parting gift for us” he said with a rasping voice and relayed his position.

The main Vanguard force moved like a host of black clad ghosts, on their way the passed signs of a desperate last stand. Overturned tables and sandbags where hastily erected and abandoned weapons and mangled bodies and gore where abundant. They passed PDF troopers and heretics alike, all lay where they had fallen, there would be no funeral for these men. Only the grim reality of being a anonymous number in a conflict of titanic scale.

As they entered the inner courtyard they saw what the Sergeant had voxed the main force about. A blazing altar to the dark gods had been erected in the centre of the courtyard, and in a gruesome twist of fate had scores of severed heads and other body parts been used as kindling for the pyre blazing at its top.
But what caught their eyes was the crucified body of the PDF commander who had made his stand here with his remaining men after the war had broken out. His face was frozen in a look of pain and absolute horror, his chest had been ripped open and his lungs ripped out.
This was clearly a message sent to those who would oppose the ones who had built this altar of violence and bloodshed.

The Astartes stopped a distance from the altar, normal men or even other Astartes might have felt rage or other kinds of feeling. The Death Hands who excelled at terror tactics and other types of tasks that required a complete numbness to such inferior feelings where not angered, they wide this as a sing that their prey was closer. And they where correct, the next few hours would lead up to the culmination of their pursuit of the prey they hunted.

Brother Captain Arkangle spoke with a low rumbling voice “ Brother Librarian Ocavious, what dose your warp senses tell you. Dose this foul construct pose a threat to our mission”.

The Liberian who where the only member of the Astartes band to not have the coal black armour but instead wore a armour that was coloured with a deep crimson red answered with a voice that to the unprepared would feel like a gust of cold wind “The Empyrian is shrouded, it howls with a thousand mad voices. The altar must be purged unless the denizen of the realm is to spill fourth.

Upon hearing this receiving these news Arkangle turned to the Marine beside him “ Let it burn with the fires of zeal and fury”. The Battle brother nodded and stepped forwards, flamer in hand and sent a gout of flame onto the construct. The Prometium was mixed with holy chemicals that feed accelerated the flames into a pyre that spewed clouds of dark smoke into the air.

As they moved towards the gates on the far side of the courtyard a lone figured perched on the roof far above followed them with eyes that was far sharper than the eyes of a mere mortal worhsiper of the dark gods.
The figure reared up to its full heigh and grasped its staff and mumbled to no one particular “ So the final pices begin their move, and the treads of fate spin ever closer. Who will prevail and who will fall in the end”

Arkangle looked skyward and scanned the skye, his eyes searching for anything that may revale his foe, but the Astartes could not spot anything that indicated the presence of his prey but still something was amiss

I liked the touch of the blood-eagle on the PDF-commander. I developed an angry nun/nurse/nanny who uses that as well, as her finishing touch in the ending of a ninth action.

Beaviz81 wrote:I liked the touch of the blood-eagle on the PDF-commander. I developed an angry nun/nurse/nanny who uses that as well, as her finishing touch in the ending of a ninth action.

RPG I assume and thanks. Next update will be alot more shooty and choppy

Nice description, Trondheim. It's building up nicely to a heavyweight showdown!

This story is very nice. The line "A single shot from a bolt pistol removed his head from his shoulders" is great.

Thanks guys. It really feels nice to see comments like this, Next part will be dedicated to you.

@ lonelictor : You really think so? Well Il try not to let you down witht the comming updates

@Necroagogo : prepare for delicous flames

She is not a RPG-char. I just developed her as an excuse to use Space Marine geneseed in juvenat-treatments, and she ended up being an incredibly fearsome Sister Hospitallier.

I don't wanna start a new post, but it's part IV, not IIII. Du skriver på for mange tavler.

Dedicated to LoneLictor, Necroagogo and the rest of you who made me want to post more


Part IIII.




The sound of battle filled the dark corridors of the complex as heretics of all sorts poured forth like a wall of vermin surged towards the Death Hands who where being rushed from all sides. This was what they where breed and trained to do, chain swords growled and bolter’s barked as they cut a bloody path true their enemies.

Brother Captain Arkangle and Sergeant Lysandros was leading the Astartes, their arms raising and falling like a deadly symphony of perfectly timed art.
“ DEATH TO HIS FOES! SHAME TO THOSE WHO STRAY FROM HIS LIGTH” the veteran Marines shouted as they fought for their lives.
Liberian Octavious plunged his power axe into the skull of a obese heretic wearing the red robes of the mechanicum. The man let out a gurgle as the axe continued downwards and erupted in a shower of gore from his stomach. He allowed himself to be lost in the rage and fury he normally contained within his mind. He let fly with a jolt of psychic power that sent men flying and witch destroyed the pitiful souls of those who where caught in its direct path.

Suddenly there was a pause in the constant din of battle, something had changed for the far worse. From the ranks of the heretical rabble a group of thirty power armour clad behemoths appeared, their ceramic encased hands gripping massive chain axes and swords witch sparkled with unholy energies. The heretics had done their task well, they had drawn the loyalists into their trap, now the battle would truly be joined by those who had abandoned the Emperors light all those millennia ago.
“ Behold brothers! Traitors in the flesh” the Captain shouted dispatched the maimed guardsman at his feet with a stomp of his boot. The sound of bone cracking and flesh ripping told him that his foe was no more.


From the traitors now opposing them there was no taunt or hateful shouts, just a single sentence that had been repeated for millennia s untold. “ BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS TO THE SKULL THRONE!”.
With those words the loyalists and traitors charged each other, one side staying calm and relying on experience and training. And the other on sheer hate and a lust for warm blood upon their scared battle plate.
With a thunderous crash they engaged each other, power axes and chain swords clashed with Chain axes that growled like a wounded animal. It did not take long before the first Astartes fell, a stroke had removed his head from his shoulder, another died as a bolt pistol was fired in his face and a blade rammed true his chest.
Arkangle felt the surge of battle flow true his body, he parried a blow from a Berserker who wore no helmet, his face scared and marked with the signs of his unholy master. With a downwards strike he broke the attack and began his own, with a flurry of blows he sent his opponent reeling for a second but the traitor regained his balance returned the favour with a blow that would have felled a lesser marine, but the Captain was not a raw member of the Vanguard, he had survived figths like this before and this he intended to win. They locked weapons and came face to face, helmet clad loyalist against a helmet less traitor.
A sound like thunder filled his ears and the Word Bearer was engulfed in a crimson mist, he howled in pain and rage as unseen hands ripped him limb from limb. The head that now had no shoulders to rest on hit the ground with a wet thud.
“ Die in shame traitor” the Liberian snarled and rejoined the fray, what seemed like hours had been in fact just some twenty minutes but when the the sounds of battle died down there where twenty five Marines standing, all of whom where Loyalists, on the ground their brother lay dead or dying. Their foes slain and their path once more clear of foes,


“Status report Apothecary” Arkangl growled, he felt a tidal wave of hate wash over him as the looked on the dead traitor marines, they had delayed him and cost him valuable time. But more important, many of his brothers sat at the Emperors side now.

“Eighteen brothers have joined the Emperor Captain, another three will live if treated soon” came the sober reply from the Apothecary
“ Do so Brother, call for evacuation when they can be moved”.

With those words the still standing marines followed their leader deeper down into the waiting hearth of darkness where the final battle awaited them

Trondheim wrote: The head that now had no shoulders to rest on hit the ground with a wet thud.

Love it.

Excellent new part.

Than you, I live to serve my readers

PS : Dose anyone have anything they wish included in the next part? PM or post here if so.

Ooh, ooh! I have something I want in the next part! It's kinda minor though. I'm interested in some of the background of the conflict. Like, how did the rebellion start up or how did the World Eaters manage to get there and just that general sort of thing. Thanks! I guess the rebellion has already been explained at the beginning, but I'm just interested in more info, ya know. Sorry if this doesn't make sense.

Background would be nice as there just are so many ways you can violently kill fellows.

You asked for more background and thou recived





Inquisitorial report on Astartes Adeptus Chapter known as Death Hands, this report will detail background and notebal members of this chapter


Voxnet authorization code : 0097766_Xv9
Thought of the day : Duty is its own reward

Why you have asked for this information is beyond me, I beg you to be careful with this information. It would not go well for us both should it come into the wrong hands.

Chapter history :
The Death Hands are based on the borders of the Ghoul Stars, they have since their creation three millenniums ago. They are a successor chapter to the Iron Hands chapter and show many of their traits and beliefs. But in all regards they are a chapter apart from most other loyalist chapters due to their low regard for the life’s of Guardsmen and civilians. They do however stand as steadfast defenders of mankind, on several occasions they have been praised for their efforts to defend worlds from the predations of the xeno, the heretic and the daemon.

However these things do not remove their rumor as a chapter that will not shy away from using any means to achieve their goals. They are masters of terror tactics and covert operations, these tactics have been the downfall of many traitors and Xeno leaders, who have believed themselves safe.

It was these tactics that ensured they emerged victorious in the gruesome slaughter of the hive world of Centurion Prime witch had been overrun by heretics and Word Bearer traitor Astartes. In this campaign millions of hive dwellers died by their hands and from the assaults mounted by the single Imperial Guard regiment that can claim something similar to respect from the chapter, this regiment is 135th Ragnarokian regiment. Witch hails from one of the systems under Death hands protection.
Even these regiments tread lightly around the Astartes they fight alongside regularly.


Notable members of the Chapter.

Chapter Master Justinian Hammerstein :
This titan of a man assumed leadership of the chapter five centuries ago when the previous chapter master died at the hands of a Black Legion champion. He is brutally scarred and has several bionic implants that dose little to make him look like a champion of mankind. He is also known for being a man who dose have not a single fiber of compassion for those witch are not a part of his chapter. This has lead to several heated arguments between him and the holy Inquisition. But it seems someone of considerable power have a interest in keeping the Inquisition away from him.

But no one can say he is not a master tactician and a immensely skilled warrior, he has lead many campaigns against the enemies of mankind. Most notable is his century long and still ongoing feud with the Word Eaters traitors.
He is also despite his rather cold manner a close ally of the Hellheim forge world in the Ragnarok system.
In times of war he leads the 1th company Terminator Astartes. His war plate is millenniums old and possibly has its origins in the Horus Heresy, he wields a massive power sword witch has been passed down from chapter master to his successor for as long as the chapter has excised.





Master of Blades Toki Vanagard.

He is the one who acts as the enforcer of the Chapter Master will, he is also responsible for commanding the Vanguard and Stern guard Marines of the 1th company.
He rose to his current position when he slew a Eldar farseerer witch had the blood of his comrades of the 3th company on her hands. In a battle witch would be the stuff of legend if witnessed by anyone of his squad he cut down the seer council and butchered her Banshee protectors. Upon reaching his foe he dueled with her before with a crushing blow from his fist breaking her spine and hacking her limbs of.

He emerged from the burning hive spire carrying her head in one hand and his blood drenched power ax in the other. Upon seeing their leader cut down the Eldar fled the world and the Imperial Forces was victorious of the xeno and the heretic.
He is a tall man, with eyes that are grey show no sign of the hate he possesses for the Eldar witch claimed the life of his brother. He also keeps his hair shaved of and refrains from the normal markings of a veteran, it can not be said he indulges in the privileges he has access to.
He stands a head taller than his brothers and are of considerable bulk, but one would be a fool to mistake him for anything than a lightning fast fighter witch can keep pace with anyone foolish enough to take up arms against him.

When the time for battle draws near he wears a suit of armor that have been repaired countless times. It is a master crafted suit that hails from Mars, and was granted to the Chapter after they aided the Adeptus Mechanicum in a campaign against Ork looters.



Chief Liberian Damian Thule

Information unavailable :
Classification Gorgon IX 7877700Xu
Clarification needed from Chapter Master
Sub VoX Frequency STC 999768331
Note : Removed from record after purging of Centurion Prime

I would have added a more speculative tone for the Inquisitor, as neither member of the Death Hands seem to be very keen of spilling their guts. For me they seem to be a tad like HAL 9000. They calculate and do the math, I don't think interviewing them would be a very good idea, and any Inquisitor disagreeing with me would likely quickly get choked to death by cold metal hands.

Well they do decend from the Iron Hands so HAL feeling os not wrong. And hey who dont like chocking nosy Inqusitors?

Do we ever, though I know about a few people who like a more drawn out death for them.

I love how they serve the Emperor in the worst possible way. They will shoot the dog if it's suspected of having glanced in their direction. Lovely.

Oh man - I love the Ghoul stars. Are you planning on taking the narrative there at any point?

The main characters seem suitably 'lacking in people skills' to be Iron Hands descendants! What part of the Heresy did Hammerstein's armour originate from? Must have needed a little repair work if it was from Istvaan ...

Keep it coming!

Alright, here's something I really like. "...due to their low regard for the life’s of Guardsmen and civilians" Almost all fan chapters have stuff about how they value life more than most Space Marines and are super good guys, so it's nice to see Space Marines that are the polar opposite. Overall this is a very unique and well written Chapter background. Thanks for the info!

This is it! Now we reach the climax!

@ Lonelictor : Yes, I find those homebrewn chapters rather dull.

@ Necroagogo : Maybe, I will think about it. And the armour hails from Davin


Part IV.

The footsteps of the Death Hands echoed true the dark and moist tunnels that lead into the very hearth of the Hive that reached for the sky above them. The tunnels showed the signs of heavy use with bodies and disregarded supplies piled up.

As the group reached a bridge that gapped ran over a gaping shaft that plunged into darkness they came to a halt. “ Hold here brothers” came the order from Brother Captain Arkangle.
He walked up to the two Astartes that was acting as pathfinders in this maze of darkness and decay.
“What do you see brother” he asked the one standing nearest to him. “ The tunnel splits into two paths, we have explored one, it seems to lead back to the surface. But we did not go the full length due to the amount debris blocking it.”

“Understood lead on then, let us not keep out prey waiting” Arkangle said with a smile that could have frozen the blood of a mere mortal to ice.

As they descended into the catacombs that lay beneath Centurion Prime did Liberian Octavious feelt a unholy feeling of foreboding washing over his mind. He was a veteran of hundreds of battles and his psychic powers was a force of total destruction when he employed them in the service of the chapter but this feeling unnerved even him. “ Emperor keep me” he whisper to himself as he and his brothers advanced in utter darkness. Only once had he felt like something similar to this, and that time had almost been the end of his service to the Emperor.

His hands gripped thither around his force staff and blessed power axe. No he would not succumbed to fear and memories of battles long gone, his Captain required his help as did the rest of his comrades. Even with these thoughts he did not dare to feel safe, the Empyrean did not suffer fools to live untainted

As these events unfolded the other actors in this game of fate began to contemplate their next move. The shadowy figure witch had observed the Astartes enter the catacombs consulted with its fellow observers and discussed their next set of reactions to this. The heretics continued their war against the false emperors servants, and the Imperial Guard still struggled to keep their enemies at bay.
The endgame was drawing near, and soon the final pieces of the puzzle would be put in place.




After some time the Astartes reached their goal, a massive chamber that spanned several hundred meters wide and a roof that disappeared into the gloom above their heads.
In the chamber they could see a seething throng of cultists swaying in synchronised tune with the man they had chased across several sectors and war zones.

Now had the time come for vengeance, for retribution and once and for all ending the wild hunt.
Brother Captain Arkangle and Sergeant Lyandros of The Death Hands looked upon the sea of heretics and dregs separating them from their prey.
“ To the death my lord” the Sergeant said with a voice that trembled with righteous anger.

The captain nodded and turned to the rest of his men “ For decades have we hunted this vile heretic. Now he can not run, now there are only him and us” drawing breath and activating his power sword he continued “ DEATH TO THE HERETIC! WOE TO THOSE WHO STRAY FROM HIS LIGTH! TO WAR!” he shouted, his brothers in arms responded in kind and began a thundering charge towards their awaiting foe.

Upon hearing the amplified and thundering voice of the Astartes leader the amassed heretics responded with howls of their own, Aspiring champions gathered their minions and began their own reckless charge with cries to the blood god.
Their leader felt a sudden chill grip his heart, now there was no escape he realised. In coming down here he had in effect sealed his own fate should his followers fail to stop the loyalists.
He turned to the two massive figures beside him and pointed to the figure of Captain Arkangle, “ KILL HIM! Collect his skull for Khorne” he shouted with a voice filled with hate and despair born from a knowledge that doom is coming.

The band of Astartes and heretics met on the floor of the great chamber with a mighty howl. The first traitor to die was simply crushed under the weight of the charging Captain and his next victim was split from skull to groin witch caused his cauterized guts to spill forth in a gruesome manner.
The Astartes was superior to the heretic in single combat but now the odds where stacked against the Angles of death, they where outnumbered by thousand of blood crazed heretics and no reinforcements was coming to their aid. But they still played for their disloyal ways, many where gunned down by volleys of disciplined bolter and melta gun fire. But the Astartes did not have much ammunitions and they where being forced into forgo ranged weapons for their trice blessed chain swords and power axes witch crackled with ripples of electricity.

Arkangle parried a blow from a hiver and punched hard with his right hand into the chest of another traitor witched reduced said individual to noting more than a slowly dying ruined mess of a man. He had run out of ammunition for his bolt pistol and was hacking away at his foes with a gruesome speed. His genetically enhanced muscles allowed him to kill with a speed mere mortals could not hope to match. His brothers where following their Captain and carving a bloody path true their foes but not all who had joined the battle still lived, several Astartes had succumbed to the sheer mass of foes and wounds caused by Aspiring champions and such foul things. He swore that they would be avenged with the blood of their foes as long as he still drew breath.

“DIE TRAITOR” he roared and swung his blade in a arch around him cutting down several foes, but they where replaced before he could draw a breath.
Suddenly the heretical rabble fell away from the remaining Astartes, before them stood two immense figures that wore the same armour as the traitor marines they had fought not long ago. But these where clearly not some common traitor, the two World Eaters radiated a feeling of impending bloody death. Their war plate was scarred from countless battles and they wore no helmets. Their hands gripped chain axes with emitted a low growl as their bearers kept them ready.

The two sides stood no more than ten meters apart, except for the sounds of the dying and wounded not a word was spoken until Sergeant Lysandros broke it “ Go get the bastard my lord, we will deal these traitors their due punishment”.

From his raised platform the traitor general watched the two chaos marines square of against two loyalists, it should not take long. However he was gravely underestimating the two marines that met their traitorous brothers in combat.

The two Death Hands that rose to meet their traitorous kind was Sergeant Lysandros and Liberian Octavious with both where skilled warriors. Both men where proud and would give their life for their captain need be, now however they would distract the hulking World Eaters while their lord dealt the deathblow to their foe.

As Captain Arkangle accented the massive set of stairs leading up to the platform where his prey was he was constantly harried by screaming cultists and traitorous guardsmen who lunged at him with knifes, clubs and bayonets. None survived his wrath although he did feel the wear of almost two days of all but constantly fighting.

Below two Astartes fought for their life’s, chain axes collided with power sword and axe. For anyone witnessing this show of supreme skill honed over countless years it may seem like the combatants where apparent from time and space. However there could be no illusion of the outcome of these duels. There would be no mercy given and none asked for


As he cleaved the last dreg blocking the air was filled with a death cry, his head turned out of sheer instinct, there he saw his sergeant laid low by a chain axe blow, however the traitor did not live to claim his prize, a tempest of warp fueld rage boiled the traitor away as Liberian Octavious allowed himself to cast a devastatingly psychic blast before succumbing to his own wounds, both traitors lay dead and so did their loyalist brothers.

As the Captain walked onto the blood stained platform his face showed revealed the boiling hate that now treated to flow fourth from him like a tsunami.
The prey he had been stalking was now within reach, and he intended to repay him.

The fiend he had hunted awaited him, sword in hand. The man seemed to tremble but held his ground against the Astartes who closed in on him

As the two combatants began to circle each other four shimmering forms appeared at the far end of the chamber well covered in darkness. “ Target sighted honoured one. What is your command”.

The reply came in a voice witch sounded almost inhuman “ Remove the broken part of the puzzle of fate”. The response was a single flash of ligth followed by a sound of bone splintering and a how of outrage.

“Target down”

“Dose the loyalist Mon – Keigh live»

“ Yes, he lives”

Nice new entry. It looks like the Eldar are getting involved now.

That's a suitably apocalyptic finale! Nice pacing, sir,

So what happens next?

Well I havent thougth about that yet. I recon I need to think about it,

Good stuff Trondheim

How about a massive space conflict between the marines and (Dark?) Eldar?

Or the Eldar trap leads to temporary alliance between Eldar/Marines against XYZ (ie Nids? Necron?)