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Chapter 1.

War never changed, except for where and when it was fought. Now it had come to this world, the hive cities was awash with heresy and blood. Amongst this chaos stood the unyielding men of the 134th Ragnarokian regiment, they had been sent into the sector before it was put in quarantine.

They had a single goal, to wipe out anyone who had denounced their loyalties to the Emperor, and each and one of them has sworn to never give up as long as they drew breath. Commanding them was the man who symbolized everything these brave stood for. Fieldmarskal Hendric S. Loki was a man renowned for his merciless form of war, and the utter destruction of those who opposed him, be it loyalist or traitor.
They had been transported by the brave men of the Imperial Navy detachment designated to the sector. On a normal Guard transport ship one migth expect to hear the pre deployment bragging, and other less pious sounds. But aboard the massive troop carrier transporting them there was no such noise, only the sound of marching feet and men preparing in silence and prayer to the Emperor above.

On the first transports down to the war torn world beneath them was the hardened men of the sturm troops. They where given the task of landing first and securing a drop zone should the PDF decide to turn traitor, also amongst them was their gaunt and war ravaged commander Hendric S. Loki.
When they landed they where greeted by something else than blood crazed cultists or traitorous PDF soldiers.

Awaiting them was a portly man in the uniform of the PDF accompanied by several others, and what clearly was supposed to pass for a honour guard. The men awating them looked somewhat uncomfortable and looked like they had a thousand other places they rather be than meeting representatives of the Imperial Guard.

“Ah Marshal Hendric, welcome to our world. I am sorry for the state its in for the moment, you should have seen it in peacetime.” the man said and extended his hand to the gaunt Guard commander standing in front of him.
Hendric looked at the man with barley hidden disgust, here was clearly someone who overindulged in all manner of things, and no doubt had gotten his rank as a lieutenant due to his family ties.
But he did need these incompetent fools for a while thou, he reminded himself. Extending his own partial bionic hand he returned the favour.

“Thank you lieutenant. Now where is your superior, I have a good amount of things to discus with him.” the Marshal said with a hoarse voice. Behind him his command staff formed up, noticeably amongst them was the lord commissar Augustus, his sturm troop commander and his regimental advisor’s.

“Errr well the thing is my lord, that the Planetary Governor has ceased to replye to your attaemts at communications. Alongside the senior staff.”










Chapter 2.
There where some things that even made Hendric loose his temper, traitors and incompetent Planetary governors was on the top of this list.
“Do explain Lieutenant, just how could the entire PDF chain of command AND the planetary governor simply cease to respond to your transmissions ? I am assume you have tried and reach them in other ways?” said the fuming field marshal.

The lieutenant swallowed hard, and seemed to be steeling himself. Sweat poured down his face and his voice was marked by a man clearly afraid.
“We tried my lord, I even sent a platoon to investigate why the capitol had ceased to respond. None of them returned.”
pausing the young man steeled his himself and managed to look Hendric in the eyes while continuing his explanation. “ As acting commanding officer of the remaing loyalist PDF regiments I her by transfer command to you my lord. I submit myself to your judgement, whatever it may be.”

One could have heard a pin drop if it had not been for the hum of engines and the sounds of men & machines being unloaded from the landers surrounding the group.
Hendric looked at the man, what thoughts passed true his mind none could tell. His face was the surface of stone is always was, although his eyes had a different feel to them.
“I see. I applaud you for your honesty, and although your effectiveness is most definitely found wanting........ However know this, failure are not accepted.” he said and began to walk away from the group.

A loud crack filled the air followed by a dull thud as a body hit the ground. The shocked muttering of the remaing PDF staff mixed with the almost quiet sobs of the lieutenant who held a skinny woman in his arms, her head had a gaping wound on her forehead.
“Let that be a warning, the next time you will be the one facing the wrath of the Emperor coward. “ Lord Commissar Augustus who slid his bolt pistol back into its holster, his face not showing any sing of interest in the reactions of those who had served with the trooper he had just shot.
Now order would be restored and the foes of Mankind purged with fire and zeal. Now was the time for the hammer of the Emperor to strike at their cowardly hearths. And show them how the faithful waged their form of war.

Hendric S. Loki was a pious man, but he was also a realist. Having faith was good, but faith alone did not win wars for him and the Imperium. With this, he summoned the officers serving him. And the by now sombre and somewhat shocked lieutenant of the PDF.
“I do not need to brief you any further on what is facing us here on this heresy riddled world. Our task is simple, was are to break the heretics. And return this world to our Emperor.” pausing he drew his breath, and took a deep sip of water before continuing.
“We do however need the PDF to map out where our foes are hiding, you know this world better than us anyhow. And furthermore, we need your resources just as much.” with that the infamous commander gave a slight nod, and left his subordinates to plan their next move.

As he walked down the weary halls of the Administratium building they had set up their HQ in, his mind wandered, back several decades of warfare and bloodshed. His mind created a image of a woman with red hair and skin as pale as snow. He felt a sudden onset of weariness embrace him and he found himself longing for a moment of rest.
“I miss you still Emma, I will meet you again when I leave this world behind” he muttered to himself. He knew that he should have forgotten her long ago, but he would be damned before he gave her up. The Imperial Guard had provided for him and her, and even thou no one else remembered her he would until the day he drew his last breath.
His moment of solitude was broken when he heard the sound of voices, and the sounds of the daily routine of his men. Ever onwards he thought to himself and walked down the stairs and into the day that still awaited him outside.

While his lord was remembering old friends long dead and gone, someone else was making his presence felt in a different way.
Shadows moved true the broken landscape, silent and deadly they crept towards the traitors manning the defence strong point outside the massive hive city looming behind them.

These where the hallowed men of the Sturm troop divisions, these men where the absolute elite of the regiments. And none where more devoted to the Emperor and Mankind than them, now they once again used their skills honed on countless battlefields to ensure the will of their commander was carried out.
With hellguns and gleaming steel they stormed the bastion, the figth was grim but short. The foe lay dead and they stood victorious but none of them spared the fallen on any side a second thought. Demolition charges was set, and the the gas mask clad ghosts vanished into the night to report their success to command.

With these deaths the 134th Ragnarokian started its slow march to victory.

Oh I love it. I like the brutal pragmatic style of Loki.

Thank you. Yes that is a rait most of my creations have, I dislike characthers who act like self sacrifing heros, and tries to make everyone feel all warm and fuzzy

I agree, and the supergood-blubb-blubb-blubb chars wouldn't make it out of the Schola Progenium alive even. They are just like the good guys in Game Of Thrones, too stupid to stay alive.

I like it! Keep up the good work.

Chapter 3.

The day that broke was a rainy one, a battleship grey sky carried the promise of rain. And it seemed that the day would be a miserable one. The Ragnarokian troops who manned the perimeter had suffered far worse, but rain was still an unwelcome guest in their life’s.
Other less fanatical troops would perhaps have lost some of their fighting spirit in such weather, but the men carried on still. But there where more than simple devotion behind their steadfast routines, the first offensive in this war about to begin.

Further behind from the front-line the remaining PDF troopers also readied themselves. These where the ragged survivors who now had been rearmed and readied themselves for the final assault, many knew this would be their day to die, but still they carried on. But the man amongst them who was visibly the most changed was the former lieutenant, who had been a easy going man. But now seemed to be of a rather opposite mindset, he had taken the execution of his sister less than well. But he dared not give up, he had sworn that he would see his world liberated. And her killer layed low.

FieldMarskalk Hendric looked true his binoculars at the distant hive, he had made his way to the ruined town that was the nearest settlement to the hive city he indented to take. He could see the massive walls of the hive loom in the distance, and several traitor Chimeras patrolling the wasteland,. Yes this would be a red day, a day for bloodshed and glory. Stepping down from his perch he handed the binoculars to a private standing near him.
“This is FieldMarskalk Hendric S. Loki to all Imperial Guard & PDF forces, commence the attack. Crush the heretic and purge everyone of the dogs! For the Emperor and for Ragnarok!”

With these words the great host at his command began its advance, but they had no intention to play fair with the traitors. Overhead screamed artillery shells containing chemical weaponry. These where the trump cards the Ragnarokian 134th brought with them, a willingness to use any means necessary to crush their foes. And a utter disregard for collateral damage in the cases it could be ignored.

But the men who opposed them where not helpless, even when faced with a attack of this sort, return fire from heavy weapons and tanks claimed many transports and tanks, and the fight for the outskirts where fuelled by hate and desperation.
But surly as the passing of the day they where forced back. And before midday rose the outskirts where somewhat secured, and the dominance of the Imperial guard established. Although the fight still raged on undiminished in many places.

As this took place, the PDF alongside the strum troop divisions of the 134th had launched a all out assault on the main gates of the city looming above them. Here the elite of the Imperium and its allies clashed with the heretics opposing them.
Leading from the front was Lord Commissar Augustus, his hoarse voice could barley be heard over the raging sounds of war.

“HOLD THE LINE! I SAID HOLD THE LINE MEN!” he roared to the PDF troopers who surprisingly did more than that, they rose to meet their foes head on. They may have lacked the skills or the die hard attitude of the Ragnarokian troops but he was damned if they did not fight like devils.

As he looked around he saw the foe, several rebels clad in tattered work overalls , and wielding auto guns broke true the line where it had come to hand to hand. They ran straight towards the Vox operators.
He threw himself at the nearest one, tackling him to ground, the scrawny youth growled like a wounded beast. And jabbed at him with a knife, he returned the favour and gutted the fool with a backhand slash of his growling chain sword. The boy watched with horror on his face his guts spill onto the ground before slumping back down on the ground.

By now the other rebels had realised what had happened and came at him all at once, two opend up with their weapons but the shots whizzed past his head. He snapped of a shot with his blot pistol and caught one in the troth, blowing his head clean of with a wet thud.

“ Die murder! DIE. “ one man yelled and lunged at him with a axe clutched in his hands. The man swung at him, and he parried. However he was not ready for how strong his opponent was, and where forced to pull back. Normally if he where facing the man one to one he would have stayed in the fight, but he had no time for such now. And merely put a bolt round in the fools chest.

Then the rest reached him, and he once again found himself in a deadly ballet of parries and swift strokes with his growling blade.
Around him the battle raged on as Imperials and heretics trew themselves at each other.

I like it! I really like the style of story. Keep it up

Great story, keep it coming.

I am happy you like it, I take it that its all perfect and such. Are there anything my fellow creative minds would like too see changed, or added?

It's fine. What to change? Ehm except a few typos there ain't anything I see that I would change.

I actually made a comment about the bolter not blowing people up at the post of LL, but you never wrote anything in return.

You did? Well I will make a mental note to include more gore & fragments if more are due for bolt rounds to the head then. And sorry for not respoinding then

Oh you might have a different view of bolters, I think they tear you apart, and Ionza sort of have the finest bolters with blessed bolts available, so I sort of let it slide. What you describe, sounded for me like hotshot laspistols or hellpistols.

Chapter 4.
The rain poured down from the grey sky above, and turned the bloodstained mud and soil into a landscape dotted with burnt out tanks and other vehicles from both sides. The battle had been gruesome, both sides at drew blood in abundance but the ones left standing was the Ragnarokian 134th regiment. At least for the time being.

For now there was a pause in the fighting, the heavy rain had helped with that. But also the fact that both sides needed to rearm and plan for the day that drew near. But the walls of the great city had come a lot closer the men on the front-line thought as they dug in. a almost eerie sound filled the ruined landscape in front of them, it was not the sound of shells or streaking projectiles but of silence.

Further down the line lieutenant Anderson sat in a damp tenth , and drowned his shame and hate in a bottle of the local produce. He felt noting but a hollowness inside, the death of his sister ate away at him like a tumour, but he had come to realise who was ultimately to blame for her death. It was not the brute of a Commissar, or the Emperor but himself.
He had not earned the rank he held, he had bought it with the money of his family. But his beloved sister had worked her way up from white shield to trooper with hard work alone. And now she was dead.
He had at first sworn to kill the Commissar, but what good would it do in the end. Notting would change, instead he vowed to dedicate his life to the Imperial Guard. He would serve and atone for his sins, and hopefully earn redemption for his sister in the end.

He picked up a worn and tattered book he had found laying about the command centre they had left behind. The title said “ A description of the hallowed Ragnarokian Regiments, and their doctrines of warfare.”
He silently thought to himself that if this was as dull as it seemed he would at least have toilet paper if push came to shove. The first chapter detailed the long history of the regiment and how they came to be, now if half of this was true he thought they where either all mad or simply fanatical. Or a mix of both really. As they strode on he found himself reading about the wars they had fought, and more stomach churning the ways they did, he swore than he would rather jump of a spire than to pick a fight with these mad men.
It told how they prefer to gas the enemy out, or pummel their foe with chemical ordnance before engaging them in massive mechanized assaults supported by their tanks and occasional super heavy.
One thing he noted was that their commanders was not taken from the nobility, but from the rank and file. In what class you where born did not seem to matter, only that you served the Emperor and that you where willing to die in his name.

While the young man was drinking and reading his sorrows away. Someone else was standing naked from the head down to the waist in a incense filled room, surrounded by two Tech priests. The man was FieldMarskalk Hendric, he was receiving adjustments to his bionic hand and the intricate bionic components that had replaced his spine long ago. He was a patchwork of scars and signs of trauma, but he stood tall as the two Tech priests from the forge world Hellheim attended his needs.

As the two Adeptus Mechanucis members spoke in broken Gothic mixed with binary. He found himself looking at a somewhat nervous regimental messenger standing in the open door that had just swung open. Before the boy could move several strum troopers appeared behind him and made it clear he should speak, unless he wanted a rough treatment for disturbing their lord.

He waved the priests away and stepped down from the daise he had stood on, one of the men moved in to help him dress. While the others still kept their weapons ready, they knew of hardbougth experience that even messengers could be a deadly threat disguised. But before either of them could act one of the Tech priests interrupted them.
“The boy is harmless my lord, my Skiitari deemed him harmless. He do however seem to be in a hurry to deliver something. Speak vermin before I make a servitor of you!” the looming figure snapped.


The young boy mumbled an excuse and spoke “ My lord” he began with some difficulty “a message has come for you.”
The boy seemed to tremble as he stood surrounded by gas mask clad soldiers, and looming tech priests with snapping mecandrifts .
Hendric waved a hand at the youth, who wasted no time in disappearing back into he dimly lit hallways.

Soon after he was dressed again, and headed for the command Center. Sturm troop escort and Skiitari troops following him as a shadow.
Upon arriving he was greeted by the officer who was on watch for the moment. He was shown to a holoterminal, who soon flickered into life.
“My lord, we just picked up Vox chatter from the hive. It seems we are not the only ones hunting heretics today. Someone just butchered the Governor and heaps of his men.” said a man clad in the standard Ragnarokian uniform.

These words made the fieldmarskalk let out a string of curses that could have raised the dead. Cheated for his righteous kill. And by a simple assassin! He swore that someone would pay for this. Even if the will of the Emperor had been done.

Oh God-Emperor. I must just rush it, well, I shall, tomorrow, I shall let the Freudakian 81st. invade Tanibus Alpha, with the battle between Carrus and the Eversor as well taking place (I hope).

As for your fluff it's excellent. One question though, did you do it on purpose the twist with the sister? As when the execution happened, I sort of assumed the girl was a part-time lover.

Beaviz81 wrote:Oh God-Emperor. I must just rush it, well, I shall, tomorrow, I shall let the Freudakian 81st. invade Tanibus Alpha, with the battle between Carrus and the Eversor as well taking place (I hope).

As for your fluff it's excellent. One question though, did you do it on purpose the twist with the sister? As when the execution happened, I sort of assumed the girl was a part-time lover.

No need to rush, you catch up to me in no time. Let me know if you need time too, yes that was intentional. I figured I need to work on my story telling, less chainsword and more intruiges. But thanks buddy

Very nice piece of work. A great read.

Nice one Trondheim! You have your usual grim, bloody conflicts but I'm really liking the additional dimension you've put in with the introspection of the younf lieutenant. A nice touch of the real amongst the fantastical.

Good work!

Thank you Necroagogo! I deeply appriciate your feedback, yes I figured I needed to try and work on that, and it seemed it worked. .

Chapter 5.

Weeks went by and the lines where slowly drawn ever closer to the citty, soon the final push was at hand. And the mud remained as treacherous as ever. But none of this truly marted, because the battle had begun anew. The earthshaking roars of the massive artillery pieces filled the air, as their deadly gifts rained down on the hive city. During the night the guns had been maintained and now they longed for bloodshed.
The men readied themselves for the final charge across the last part of the no man land separating them from the towering hive city.

But there where some who found it hard to muster the strength to face the coming battle. The young lieutenant looked into the mirror before him, his face had changed over the past weeks. he had lost weight. And for the first time in a long time he was somewhat fit, but what had changed the most was his eyes, they had gone from being filled with a lust for life and compassion to a portal into a mind all but ruined by loss and grief. He straightened himself and dried his face, then he began to dress for war once again. When he was done picked up a gilded locket and slid into a pocket before walking out into the waiting day.

These emotions where also mirrored by the remaining PDF men, they where all ragged by now. But they fought on, driven by fear and a lack of other options. Few hoped to see this war to its end, but they did not give up. They had become proper soldiers now, and although they where still relatively new to this they had begun to carve a name for them self amongst the men serving alongside them


while the rank & file awaited the call to battle their lords planed for the final push. FieldMarskalk Hendric was weary from looking at maps, and listening to theories put forth by his subordinates.

He rose from his seat, and the room fell silent in anticipation of his commands.
With a voice that reminded some of the listeners of zealous preacher on the eve of battle, he declared that today the regiment would storm the hive, and putt all those who dared to oppose their migth to the blade. Nobody who had denounced the emperor would be allowed to live when the Imperial banner was raised.
With these word he unleaded the great and terrible host at his command. Their lord had called and his men would answer with the only response they knew, to crush the foes of mankind and see them driven before them!

I'm really rooting for the young lieutenant and the PDF guys (although I'm not holding my breath waiting for a happy ending!).

Looks like the fat lady's about to sing ...

Ouf poor guy, the death of his sister sister really harrows him. Great read.

Chapter 6.

The sun cast a scarlet shade of light, it almost seemed divine and had it not been for the horrid battle being fought below it would have been a rather enjoyable morning in all regards. But is was not, tracers zipped across no man land while waves of armoured transports begun the final assult on the hive city. The steady thump of massive shells landing and the screams of men who where mangled beyond any help filled the morning twilight.

The grim Sturm troopers hurled themselves at their foes, and extracted a heavy toll, wiping out the enemy as they fought. But they in turn also got to feel the sweet embrace of death as auto guns, mines and rusty blades claimed their toll. They where leading from the front, as they always did, their hell guns and melta weapons singing like a choir of vengeful reapers.
Behind them came the regular panzer grenadiers and infantry men, who although not as skilled still where more than a match for their foe. But as the hours dragged by it seemed as their attack had begun to falter, their foes where dying gloriously, but not fast enough. Something would soon break and woe to those who did.

But as this maelstrom of blood and glory swilled onwards, the PDF begun their push. They had received reinforcements and could expect no more, there where simply no more loyal soldiers to find on this damned world, not at least anywhere near enough. They begun their attack with a massive bombardment from their armoured regiments, followed by a surge of men and armour. This was the hour of reckoning, and as long as a single man drew breath the Emperors foes would suffer their wrath.

Their commander was the same lieutenant who had sworn himself to this cause, the man had not been known for his courage before. But it seemed he had found it, he lead the charge from the front. His now gaunt face cowered in dirt and blood, some his own and some of his foes. To his men he must have seemed like a man who had found his true calling.

Lieutenant Anderson ducked as a hive ganger swiped at him with a rusty bill hook, he returned the favour by jabbing his power maul into the bastards face. His opponent slumped with a moan and fell silent. But there was no time to rest, around his men fought the damned traitors with tooth and nail. He shot a former PDF trooper square in the throat with his side arm.


“ONWARDS TO FREEDOM AND GLORY MEN!” he yelled in a voice he thought he did not posses.
His men seemed to take hearth from hearing their commander cheering them onwards, and once again they let their foe feel their angry bite. Yes he thought, maybe we will win this.

Further down the line the men of Ragnarok had cleared several sections of the great wall, and now their mighty armoured divisions had begun to advance into the city. When their hated foe realised that the hated Imperials now had won control of the wall, and that they where brining their tanks into the fight many lost hearth, and turned to flee. Although they did not get far, they where gunned down by their pursuing opponents.

No mater how the traitor commanders tried to rally their men they too realised this was the end. Therefore the fighting only grew more intense as men turned to make a last stand and take as many as possible with them. No quarter was asked for and none given by both sides.

Lord Commissar Augustus watched his companions slay the hated foe with zeal and fury. He was pleased with the way the battle flowed. They would soon end this and then the world could be returned to the Imperial fold once more, he had used all his ammunition and his growling chain sword was drenched in blood. What a glorious way to spread the will of the Emperor he thought as his blade gutted a woman who screamed for mercy as she was pulled from her home and onto the street.

That scene was repeated all over the city, nobody was excepted from the wrath of the Imperium. These vile traitors has sided with the rebels, and now they would learn the ways of their foolishness.
The order was sanctioned by Imperial High command and accomplished with delight by the 134th Ragnarokian regiment. The only ones safe was those who had surrendered themselves to the mercy of their now returning master, these pitiful souls would perhaps be granted pardon when the war was done.
As the sun once again begun to sett it was no doubt on who was the masters of the Hive, the rebels lay broken and the Imperium once again stood firm. But the victory had come at a high price, thousands upon thousands of Ragnarokian men had died alongside their PDF comrades in arms, their supplies where all but spent and they needed rest.

When the next dawn rose a grim sight was discovered. The PDF commander and all but a few of his men where the only survivors of desperate battle that had been fought on the eastern side of the great city. Now these ragged individuals revived medical care and relief, although many held grudges against their “saviours” who had not responded to their frantic calls for help.

As he lay in the medicare bed lieutenant Anderson thought to himself “I survived, Il be damned I bloody did. Too bad I could not save you sis.”
it then dawned upon him just how many good men had died, how many widows and that he now was the hallowed hero of the PDF.
This proved to much for the all but spent man, who began to weep silently as he finally allowed himself to begin to come to grips with his grief

Great stuff.

Also glad to have a Scandi reclaim Scandi inspired fluff with your ragnarockians.

Thank you, I appricate it. And its Ragnarokian btw

Epic! I was waiting for the sting in the tale for the poor old lieutenant (half-expecting summary boltgun execution ... ). Nice low-ley ending after the city-storming.

Very good. Keep up the good work!

Overall Rating
92/100 which is a solid A on LoneLictor's patented rating scale.

Prose
33/35

First off, I don't care about the spelling errors. In my opinion, as long as you can tell what the word is, it doesn't matter how it's spelled. Now, onto the actual judging. I found this criteria the most difficult to judge, because your prose really varies. There are some really well written sentences like: "A loud crack filled the air followed by a dull thud as a body hit the ground", "Other less fanatical troops would perhaps have lost some of their fighting spirit in such weather, but the men carried on still", "He snapped of a shot with his blot pistol and caught one in the troth, blowing his head clean of with a wet thud" and " it almost seemed divine and had it not been for the horrid battle being fought below it would have been a rather enjoyable morning in all regards". These sentences are just well written. They flow smoothly and use big words without using too many big words.

However, there are a few iffy parts. Like this: "When their hated foe realised that the hated Imperials now had won control of the wall, and that they where brining their tanks into the fight many lost hearth, and turned to flee". It's not actually that bad, but its a tad redundant and distracts the reader from the story. The advice I'm going to give you is extremely hypocritical; proofread yer works. Just quickly read it over and change one or two words that might disrupt the flow. I have a real problem with this and I know how after spending all that time writing you really don't feel like checking it, but its worth it. Overall I'm giving you 33/35 for a well written story.

Characters
34/35

There are only two main characters; Loki and Anderson. They're both well written, with a full gamut of emotions. I also quite like how they contrast with eachother. Anderson is a kinda soft guy from a privileged life. Loki is extremely professional and efficient, but he's somewhat sociopathic. He caps Anderson's innocent sister and doesn't even care. To him she was just another faceless soldier, a tool in the overall war. I was actually glad when the story focused on Anderson because though Loki isn't too outright villainous, he's not quite as sympathetic as Anderson. You do gain some sympathy for Loki when you hear about his sister, but he's still kinda evilish in my eyes. I wouldn't want to have brunch with him.

Something that would be interesting is learning what made Loki into the man he is today. He's a byproduct of eternal, unending, uncompromising warfare, but I'd like some details. How did he start out? Did he enlist in the 134th Ragnarokian regiment or was he drafted? Was there some specific event that caused him to snap or was it just a combination of everything? I'm gonna give you a 34/35 for characters, because they definitely real, human people.

Plot
15/20

Kinda conventional plot to be honest; planet rebels, guard arrives, planet reconquered by Imperium. It wasn't an especially good plot, but it wasn't bad either. There weren't no asspulls or Dues Ex Machinas or forgotten mice which is good. And I liked Anderson's character arc. He goes from a kind but wimpy and stupid guy to a professional but immoral guy. And then he realizes this and freaks out. For Anderson's plotline, I give this plot 15/20.

Setting
10/10

You've certainly captured the hell of warfare. This paragraph demonstrates it quite well: "The sun cast a scarlet shade of light, it almost seemed divine and had it not been for the horrid battle being fought below it would have been a rather enjoyable morning in all regards. But is was not, tracers zipped across no man land while waves of armoured transports begun the final assult on the hive city. The steady thump of massive shells landing and the screams of men who where mangled beyond any help filled the morning twilight." I'm gonna give you 10/10 because I got a nice mental image of the muddy, bloody battlefields and burning cities.


Stupid Nitpicking

ITS "Field Marshall" NOT "Fieldmarskal"!!!!!!!1!!!111!!111!!1!!!

Favorite Part

I really, really like when the PDF goes too far and starts massacring the civilians. They started out so squeemish but now they're practically mass murderers. This is a great demonstration of what warfare does to a person.

To LoneLictor :

Thank you for your honnest evaluation of my work , I know I can always depend on you for such things. I find the fact that you took the time to make such a detailed report very kind.
This is the kind of feedback I truly appriciate, And for your nitpicking that is also welcome, althou I did try for the German spelling but it seemes the power of said languange has failed me in this particular regard. Also if you want to read more about the 134th Ragnarokian and its commander I have made some fluff for them before, they, but I belive you did acctualy leave me a comment on that particular pice of work.
I will try to improve on the points you pointed out for me.

However I have messaged Warone about my withdrawl from this project.


Yours truly

Trondheim

I enjoyed it very much. Great work!!