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By the gods....Sometimes I wonder why I use auto correct. Note to self, disable it next time.

Very nicely written, as usual. The Librarian, Octavious, is a badass.

Is now the correct time to go and get some popcorn for the final battle?

Maybe... I would however hide your Inqusitor

Dammit - he's my designated driver!

The Ragnarokians walked in utter silence, not a word was spoken as they moved at a fast pace trough the dark tunnels. Ahead they could occasionally hear a explosion or the faint rattle of bolters, this added to their lust for vengeance dove them onwards. The red eye lenses on their facial masks illuminating the way for them.

Ahead of the main bulk of troops Andrea and Valeria had the dubious honor of having the vanguard with them, these men where the absolute opposite of their fellow Ragnarokian troops, clad in the dark uniform that their fellow men wore was where the similarity ended. None of them wore face masks, only a re-breather and a pair of simple goggles, they all had a single unit marker tattooed on their right cheek.
A pair of crossed fists run trough by a dagger. This was informed those around that these men where of the penal legion assigned to the 134th. Their weapons also bore the tell tale sign of this, no hell guns or advanced weapons for these condemned souls, just an auto gun and the cold steel of a large and rather crude knife alongside a stub pistol plus grenades.
Unlike other penal legions none of them wore any form of explosive collar, the shame and disgrace of having failed in their duty as Ragnarokians was what had driven these men into the legion. They lived in shame and would die in shame, that was their self imposed punishment and attempt at repaying the lord of mankind for their mortal shortcomings in this life.

One of the men, a large and heavily built man with a crude augemntic eye held up his hand as they drew near the opening of the tunnel. Each man stopped dead in their tracks and gripped their weapons with dirty and bloody hands.
“What? You afraid that the evil buggers are gonna get you!” asked Valeria and begun to walk forwards with her bolter in hand.
When she did the legionnaire grabbed her in a vice like grip and pined her to the wall.
Pointing to a barely visible wire running across the path ahead he said.
“Trap!” and gestured a large boom with his hands, nodding to one of the other members of his squad who pulled a dirty and beaten civilian they had stumbled upon he looked at Valeria.
The legionnaire who held the squirming civilian said to the frighted and delirious woman.
“Get to the end of this hall before I count to ten and your home free.”

Not realizing the danger ahead, or simply to frighted to take heed she ran. As she did so she broke the wire, looking down and realizing was what would come next she began to wail but her screams was cut short when a storm of shrapnel and heat ripped her famished form apart in a shower of blood and gore.
“Now road clear.” the leader said and he and his team accompanied by the two sisters began to move forwards again.

“Well that was rather messy” Andrea said as she stepped over the remains that had painted the walls a slight shade of red. Her sister simply nodded and jogged after the legionnaires.

As the first guard forces excited the maze of tunnels and cast their eyes upon the battle below, and saw the angels of death clashing with the hated forces of the arch enemy they felt hatred stir in their veins. But as the fires of hate burnt in them they where all to aware of that they needed to wait for the main force to link up with them before any real attack could be made.
But the penal legionnaires had no such notions of strategy, their prey was close and the blood lust that simmered beneath the surface now rose up and reared its ugly head.
Drawing blades and loading their crude weapons they fell upon the enemy forces at the back of the enemy lines.
The men howled and bayed as a pack of dogs scenting blood. Now their moment of glory had come.



“Valeria to Lord Augustus! I say come in Lord Commissar, the penal legionnaires have engaged the enemy! Additional support will be needed shortly, recommend that you get here fast sir!” she said and cut the link.

“Well I recon its do or die time eh sis?” said Andrea as she drew her sword and her gauntlet begun to simmer with energy.
“Yes that it is my dear.” was the reply she got as Valeria slammed a fresh magazine into her bolter and made sure her stub pistol was loaded and secure.

Those penal legionnaires have got style!

More meat for the grinder but who will win?

Another new entry. I can't take the suspense; who's gonna win?

That being said, I was kind of confused by what happened with the Legionnaire.

Well what do you think my dear Lictor? If any of my other works are something to by this upcoming and fianle chapter will be rather gory.

Huh... alright, what do I think?

The forces of Chaos are cutoff, with no reinforcements for the foreseeable future. They've exhausted a great deal of their men, the World Eaters especially, in combat with the Death's Hands. Even with their reinforcements from the Slaught, I think their dead.

That being said, the Imperial forces have taken heavy losses too. And I think they'll continue to do so until the end of the campaign. Chaos Space Marines aren't known for going down without a fight. And those Slaught seem like they'll fight to the end too.

Arkangle struck like a viper, his blade sunk deep into the skull of the last traitor terminator who had barred his way, the struggle with these vile servants of darkness had claimed all but one of his faithful comrades that had accompanied him in the mad dash to reach the daemon prince. The twenty vanguard veterans had all taken a bloody toll of the enemy, but in the end the sheer brute strength and resilient of their foes caused them to fall to power maul and chain fist.
As his blade cleaved the leering skull in two he eyed his prey, he could see his foul face twisting in delight of the suffering and cacophony of war around him.
Pulling the sword clear and straitening himself to his full height he begun to approach the fiend with the sound of the battle raging behind him dancing in his ears, his helmet lost. But before he called a challenge to the foe he pressed a activation rune on his armor.

The rune reappeared on a terminal in a dark and smoke filled room, a lone figure clad in rust red robes and grasping a great tome covered in bronze decorations gazed at it with red eye lenses and seemed to loose himself in his own swirling maelstrom of thoughts and prayers. After some time he began to chant a low and rhythmic tune while he began to awake the holy relic from its deep rest. And to make it ready for war, alas such where the duties of those who served the machine spirit, never enough time to properly care to the holy relics int heir care these days.
With a low but fearsome growl the relic woke from its recently awakening, its red visor came to life and the two massive iron fists begun to sparkle with energy as it took a few cautions steps out of the place where it had slumbered.
With a voice that only just resembled the proud warrior who now rested inside it spoke.
“Once again I will slay his foes! Once again they shall tremble before our wrath!”

He stared at the fell being that had once been his comrade in arms and fellow servant of mankind and the emperor. But what he saw now resembled noting of his former self, diabolical mutations and other inhumane things had changed the former angle to noting more than a beast deserving death.
“You die this day! For your crimes against the chapter and the immortal father of mankind I sentence you to death traitor!” he called out to the daemonic mongrel who barred its fanged maw and drew its own sword.
Flickering its long and barbed tongue it came rushing forwards while a thousand damned souls screamed in agony all across its rune covered armor and body.


But the Brother – Captain was not unprepared nor a stranger to fighting the daemonic. His armor was adorned with wards and oaths of purity was bestowed upon by the finest tech priests of Hellheim. His sword seemed to growl in anger as he raised and meet his foe half way.
The air it self seemed to bend and twist when these two warriors crashed together, one infused with the favor of the dark lord of pleasure and ecstasy and granted immortality and great power. While the other was a veteran of five hundred years of war and endless carnage and devoted to the lord of mankind, with every fiber in his body.
Their weapons meet in a shower of sparks and the screech of metal upon metal.
Arkangle ducked under a blow and struck back hoping to wound his opponent, and thus enabling himself to capitalize on its vanity, but the beast either understood this or simply did not care. The sword drew black ichor but did not do any major harm. Instead he was rewarded with a blow that sent the nine feet tall warrior flying like a rag doll, he landed with a crash but sprang back up on his feet almost faster than what the eye could follow.
The daemon grinned and licked blood that flowed down from the cut with one of its tongues.
“You dare violate my beauty!” it screamed and seemed more offended by the minor cut than hurt by it.
“Yes daemon, I dare and I will end you!” its prey called back and came rushing forwards with the shinning blade leading the way. One swipe from it cut a deep and wicked looking groove into the rune encrusted armor on its chest.
Then a series of shots from the foolish loyalist slammed into its left leg, detonating and leaving ruined flesh and runes.


While these two champions of two very different beliefs and intentions faced of against each other, the full and vengeful force of the Ragnarokian 134th made their arrival onto the battle scene. With hell guns and flamers blazing they fell upon the foe.
Leading this avalanche of men and fire was the grim figure of Lord Augustus, his eyes blazing with zeal as he buried his sword in heretic after heretic. The penal legionnaires lay dead where they had fallen, but each of them had taken countless life’s before they fell here down in the dark.
The two sisters where also hard pressed, Andrea was like a woman possed. Her eery wails was heard by those around her as she cut and ripped apart those who stood in her way, one unlucky cult member found himself in her embrace as she jabbed her talons into his guts and started to dig his guts out while she giggled and squealed like a school girl in love, but the horrid mess of blood and gore displayed on her body glove suit was a indication that the woman had lost what remained of her sanity. The man howled and screamed in horrid pain as she rammed her hands up his ribcage and grabbed his hearth, the last thing he felt before death finally claimed him was the tug at his hearth.
Tossing her bloody trophy away she rose to her feet and once again lunged at an another soul to be ripped apart and killed as atonement for her sins.

Her sister Valeria was bleeding from several cuts and nicks but her gun barked and her combat blade flashed as she too seemed determined to take as many with her before she fell or ran out of foes to sink her thirsty blade into. Looking at her gore stained and deranged sister she smiled. Oh how she wished she could have been there when that whore of an inquisitor died at her hands. At least she had gotten some good if somewhat unwilling use out of her, oh how she had screamed as she abused her while pinning her to floor with her superior strength, yes this line of work did have its perks she decided as she split the skull of a mutant armed with a rusty pipe.

Arkangle felt the blow connect with his hip, then he was hurled once more down onto the dirty floor. “Oh Emperor grant me strength resilience to slay this fiend!” he thought as he struggled to his feet, limping slight on one side now he readied himself once more. The beast seemed pleased by this and allowed him to do so, in fact it seemed to relish the pleasure and the pain of battling him.

He parried a crushing blow and barely managed to do so when waves of agony began to pulse trough his body, his grip of his sword began to ease up as he looked down and saw three of the fiends claws buried in his guts.
Snarling in denial he tried to break free but found himself lacking strength, like a freshly slaughtered calf he slumped to the ground and felt the pain continue its feverish dance throughout his great body.
The beast howled in pleasure and triumph, its prey lay still and it now had him at its disposal.
As the arch fiend raised its claws something could have been seen hurling down towards he ground from up high if one had looked up.
But none none of those battling below seemed to have the time and pleasure of star gazing.

With the force of a meteor hitting the ground the massive drop pod slammed into the ground. Its massive armored doors where blown clean of by powerful charges and then it revealed its deadly cargo.

The dim of battle reached his sensors as the noise of the doors being blow wide open sunk in. powerful machine spirits told him that the battle was going ill for the faithful and that the foul dregs of chaos could not be allowed to live. Further more it seemed that a longtime ally and fellow warrior had gone down to grievous wounds. Stomping fourth on stout legs the venerable warrior joined the fray.
The daemon snarled at this new interloper, the foolish loyalist dogs thought that a walking tin can could change the tide of battle! Oh they would all squirm in agony for countless aeons when this was all over it thought. But it had not come out of the battle with the downed Brother Captain without being badly marked by it, the shimmering sword had cut many deep wounds. And he annoying shots had pulped one of its four legs into a ragged stump. But such wounds could be dealt with once victory was its to claim.

“I HAVE COME TO DESTROY YOU TRAITOR!” the entombed warrior howled and with a single thought opened fire with the two wrist mounted bolter it had its disposal. The shells stung the traitor but did not have the raw bite required to end it. That would need to be done in the brutal ways of melee combat.
When the two massive creatures clashed it shook the earth and all who still lived felt the sheer brute strength unleashed as they fought.
For what seemed like a aeon the two towering warriors struggled against each other. Cold steel and bolter added to the raw might of a dreadnaught was pitted against the unholy cunning and strength of a daemon prince with all its gifts from its foul god.
Venerable brother Mordred, former champion of the second company and now reborn in the form of a dreadnaught felt noting but the call of service as he rained blows and let of bursts of shots from his wrist mounted weapons. He remembered very little of his former life, only the last few minutes of that long and merciless life. His hammer shattering bone and flesh, and his lifeblood pooling out beneath him as he lay there and waited death. Then death had claimed him or so he thought.


Now once again he served the chapter. As he watched hos foe slowly forced to give way before him his mind became clouded with hate for the heretic, the daemon and the xeno. He screamed his anger of being entombed and his grief of watching a well known and loved brother lie dead before this monster.
“DIE DIE DIE!” he screamed and brought his massive iron fist down like he once had wielded his hammer.
The blows splintered bone, shattered armor and ripped limbs apart, himself was also marked by fang, claw and sword but so great was his rage that he felt noting but a need to watch this traitor die by his hands. The last blow caught the daemon square in the upper chest and with a screeching howl that deafened anyone who stood near the arch fiend finally slumped down and did not rise.

“GLORY TO THE RIGTHOUS!” he growled and swirled to survey the battle and seek new foes. His sensors indicated that only pockets of resistance remained and that the few traitors would not require his direct intervention. Instead the great machine stood silently guard by the fallen form of his former commander.
“REST BROTHER! YOU DID THE CHAPTER PROUD.” he rumbled in what could be said to pass as a whisper from a dreadnaught.

As the finale heretic fell, and the few survivors rallied a trail of partially devoured corpses lead to a disused star port where a old and battered ship slowly rose to the skies above, aboard was the one who had escaped the wrath of the faithful. Its minions lay dead and so did its companion. As countless schemes for vengeance swirled in its mind it knew this, it would not be the last time it sowed chaos and discontent upon a world such as this one. The corps feast was far to grand to decline.

Some time after the finale that bloody and gruesome battle even by the standards of this war that had proven so costly there where some in the imperial staff that wondered if one should simply have purged the world with atomic fire instead of wasting so much resources in liberating a ruined world such as this.

When the finale estimates of the fallen was done it became clear just how bloody and t a certain point meaningless it had all been. Of the Death Hands Second company there where only six survivors, and most of them was injured in such a way that the company was in all regard lost. The war had also claimed the life of two of the most decorated and experienced men in the 134th Ragnarokian regiment and the senior and junior staff of the other Ragnarokian regiments too. Of the various other regiments that had been deployed fewer than five count call themselves combat effective with a mere sixty five percent casualty rate. all Ragnarokian regimets involved in the war is currently listed as lost in ction or withdrawn to Ragnarok for further reinforcing and subseqently new deployments.

Of the inquisitorial forces and personnel deployed to aid in the liberation none survived, inquisitor Ambrosia and her retinue was found dead and with scores of traitors strewn all about them in the former adeptus administratium headquarters. Vox logs spoke about a dark secret hidden amongst the liberators and the distrust the good inquisitor felt towards her two new aids given to her by the late field-marshal Hendric S. Loki. Investigations by the Ordo Hereticus would later clear his name and the the two aids for any guilt or role in the death of the previously mentioned inquisitor.

Brother Captain Arkangle of the now destroyed second company was awarded the laurels of the martyr, and was buried in the tombs of the chapter when the ship bearing his fallen form returned to its home port. As of this date the second company is yet to be rebuilt to its former strength, reports sent to the lords of Terra suggest it will take at least two centuries to rebuild its ranks with new recruits and promotions from other companies.

End of Inqusitorial rapport on the the liberation and following events of the purge of Hagia Prime.
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Damn, so Hendrik and Arkangle died for nothing? That sucks. Very grimdark.

Also, Mordred is a badass. I love the line, "The blows splintered bone, shattered armor and ripped limbs apart". It perfectly captures how brutal Dreadnoughts are in close combat.

Damn, didn't expect him to kick the bucket. Good chapter, beat my expectations.

Well glad I beat expectations and that people found it rather grimdark!

What carnage, good ending you tied it all up nicely

Nice ending - a glorious death for nearly all concerned.

Going to be hard to sequel this one ... !

Well yes I think so too, since well almost everybody died or became angry dreadnaugth grand dad

I'm confused about the death of the inquistor. In a previous chapter you mention that the sisters left Ambrosia and her group to go help elsewhere, yet in the last chapter you say that the sister killed her (amongst doing other things to her it seems).

Saying that, this series has been absolutely fantastic. Really enjoyed reading it and looking forward to reading more of what you have to write!

 Spuj wrote:
I'm confused about the death of the inquistor. In a previous chapter you mention that the sisters left Ambrosia and her group to go help elsewhere, yet in the last chapter you say that the sister killed her (amongst doing other things to her it seems).

Saying that, this series has been absolutely fantastic. Really enjoyed reading it and looking forward to reading more of what you have to write!

I never stated they left them to go help somewhere else. And beside, the two sisters where not featured a lot for a few chapters. Much can happen betwen the liners without me stating everything that happen. I am aware it can be rather confusing, but consider it as my feeble attemt at creating a feeling of cloak and dagger play.

And thanks for the kind words, it always warms my hearth to get such feedback! Will do my best to reach your expectactions next time.