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The suspense is pure unadulterated AGONY! I find myself checking the posts hourly even though I haven't received an email update. I feel like I'm addicted to crack! Again. WE Need a FIX oh dark lord I pray thee. MOAR.

The machine spirit of dakkadakka has failed us.

Don't worry. The deleted post was not part of DSL's fluff. It was about his submissions to BL and other projects that he's worked on.

I'm gone for a couple of weeks, spending them thinking about what the DLS is writing at this very moment...(puffs) and then I come back... (puffs again) and I read the most epic thing in my life! in the correct spelling I would, please, like some...MOOOOOOOOOOOORE.

I have to post in such an epic thread. like many others have said,I say: "I would like MOAR!" and "Keep up the good work!".

Please sir, may i have some more?

All men to battle stations, all men to battle stations. We need MOAR!!!!!

Ennkay wrote:team kay and waitout #1!

Oh yeah double kill with the old slice em in half trick!! love it!! i can see it now:

Pte waitout: "oh man being cut in half really sucks"

Pte kay: " never mind man! at least it cant get any worse"

Pte waitout: "hold on! whats the sarge doin with that void grena..aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhh".

epic

I lost you for a while, was begining to to the the fun police a GW had put a stop to this epic story.
Now don't move again.

Come on get on with it. "Let slip the dogs of war"

Hey dudes and dudettes.

I need to apologise for my lack of posting recently. Have suffered a major pipes freezing then breaking/ waste spilling from bathroom/ hovering between my parents and friends houses as my flat is unliveable saga that is no way nice. Hopefully it'll be fixed soon then I can get back at my PC with all my notes and writing on it

My last deleted post was summed up like this:

I'd love to enter the next BL open-submission, as it is honestly one of my more realistic dreams to write for BL (or GW in the capacity of fixing the codex fluff). I have pretty much submitted to BL everal times, with my last three submissions actually getting correspondence back from the chaps at BL. If anyone remembers the Planet-Death comp a while back, I actually got a sort of 'runners up' letter saying thanks, but the story (whlst good) wasn't what they were looking for (ie: the Space Marines ever won) :p

As for character-development. Well the characters I am writing about don't really need developing, plus that's quite difficult in bullet-point form (which is why I'm taking my time and developing 'The Second Seige of Terra'). I am capable of character development however, and I have written many accepted pieces in many styles. I've written things such as a disertation on the works of Solzhenitsyn, a rather serious book on the shattering of a family, many pieces of fan-fiction ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous (from The Last Airbender, Battlestar Galactica to Sonic The Hedgehog :p). I've turned my hand to script-writing, I'm helping our own Thudo with his DoW project by scripting characters, I've even been commisioned for some fruity 'erotic fiction' for some lady-folks in the past(which is actually tons of fun, lol).

Writing is my life, I love it more than my children (if those children even existed)

So thanks guys for all the support, and yes, I will be entering the BL open-submissions lol

Seanron out!!

Good luck on the BL submission DLS! If you do start writting books for them you do realize that you will have to send all of your hardcore followers sneak peaks, autographed books, and other cool awesomnessities!

With a story like this I fail to see how you could lose.

Best of luck, but you not going to need it.

I just read parts 3,4,5 and 6. I've missed so much!
Everything you write is fething amazing Seanron.
*looks forward to the arrival of traitor marine's*

I have spent the last 3 days reading this and it has been worth it. Kudos on your fluff and attention to all races.

part 7 is coming like a freight train

And i'm waiting on the tracks

As are we all. Hopefully it doesn't derail from hitting so many people...

GundamMerc wrote:As are we all. Hopefully it doesn't derail from hitting so many people...

Impossible!!! We installed an excessive ammount of extremely large spikes, a la GW Style, to the front of said Freight Train. That, plus the Cowpusher made of chainswords prevents meat-releated derailments.

I'll just leave these here, more to come soonish, this was just the color scheme i expected an infiltrating party of kasrkin might adapt.









the whole gang to come later, working on candroth now.

Ennkay wrote:I'll just leave these here, more to come soonish, this was just the color scheme i expected an infiltrating party of kasrkin might adapt.

This is just awesome I am honoured by your wonderful models

Ennkay wrote:I'll just leave these here, more to come soonish, this was just the color scheme i expected an infiltrating party of kasrkin might adapt.

the whole gang to come later, working on candroth now.

Eeeeee! That is so purely awesome!! Hahaha, I'll have to do that when I get my Cadians together!

Edit: Also -- 10s all around for those. (:

Edit again: I love how you did the weapons. I may have to use that two-toned thing for my armies!

The Second Seige of Terra
Part Seven: A Father's Son

The Commander gazed through the pict-screen at the blaze of stars and light that blitzed past his fleet. Around him was the bustle and commotion of the ships bridge, its lights dimmed to a deep crimson, bathing the controls and people around him in a bloody red hue. Although his gaze was fixed on the pict-screen, he was not looking at it. He was looking past it, at the battle unfolding around the world of his birth, at the strands of fate that connected millions of individuals to this one time, this one place. They bisected and crossed each other like an elaborate web of golden and silver lights, their glow bringing cold and warmth, pain and security, life and death. As some lights dimmed, others flared, as some were abruptly cut by others, some shined in complex patterns shielding those around them. And at the heart of the web, touching everything and everyone that was connected to it was a bleeding violet stain, its form caressing and soiling everything it touched. A leering face rose from the stain, and grinned horrifically as it consumed the dying lights around it. The Commander could feel the coarse laughter that emanated from that dark place. He knew where the Dark Stain hid, in the deepest vaults of the deepest dungeons of his Fathers Palace.

He gently eased his mind away from the glittering web and turned calmly to his helmsman "Reduce speed, bring up a tactical display. Inform the fleet to assume Assault Formation Gideon"

His helmsman, a giant in monolithic power-armour draped in parchment and holy text, nodded his consent and turned to the choir chamber that held the ships navigator. The chamber’s seclusion seals opened with a hushed sigh, and the wasted, monstrous form of the Navigator hobbled out to the Helmsman. It was a crooked, gnarled thing, filmy drool dripping from rents in its throat and its swollen head partially covered in red silk embroidered with symbols and enchantments of gold and silver. The cloth was wrapped tightly around it’s forehead to conceal its mutation, its gift and some might say its curse: the Third Eye of the Navigator genus, the means to look into the Warp and not be driven to delirium. The psyker-thing clung to a brazen copper staff; its smooth face covered in intricate scripture and wards, and leant with a heavy sigh as the Helmsman passed on the Commanders orders. It nodded with visible effort, and turned drunkenly back towards its chamber mumbling as it went.

The Helmsman returned to his Lords side, and spoke in whispered, hushed tones.

“Commands relayed my Lord. We are reducing speed and moving into assault formations. It appears that the battle has started without us.”

The Commander smiled, and ran one of his immense hands down his intricately braided beard. The pict-screen showed tactical data from the battle that was unfolding ahead of them, tracts of information circling the void in frenzy of numbers and colour. A vast fleet of grey ships, Imperial in design, were assaulting a smaller fleet of Green and Red vessels. The great mass of the battle was taking place around the Bronze orb of Terra, but there was stuttering fire and lights around both Mars and Jupiter as well. When the Commander finally spoke, his tone was wise and reassuring.

“This is nothing we didn’t expect Ahn’Hakkun, my son. Remember this day, for it is, and always has been, our fate to be here. Know that even in the dark days, we were always meant to be here at our peoples side”

Ahn’Hakkun nodded, and also turned his attention to the vast screen that dominated the bridge. The fleet had dropped out of high warp, and was now cruising at combat speed. The warring fleets ahead of them were gradually gaining size as the Commanders fleet closed the distance, and HUD icons were gradually fading in place of actual physical visuals. He addressed one of the crewmen, “Brother Hashutt, what sounds in the void?”

The wiry crewman checked his screens and punched a few keys. One of his hands held an archaic vox catcher to his ear, and the other turned golden dials and switches as the ships skeletal scanner array sniffed the void for scents and sounds. He turned to the Helmsman and spoke in a mechanical, hollow voice, “The enemy know we are here Brother-Helmsman. There’s a lot of chatter from both sides, although we have taken them by surprise. We expect combat in the next 6.2 minutes” Ahn’Hakkun nodded his understanding before returning his vision to the battle ahead. Miniatures suns blossomed around and between the warring vessels, and if it weren’t for the grim truth of the situation, it would have looked quite beautiful; monolithic nations of steel and fire flung into the void, tracing each other with plumes of red and white and starlight, smoke drifting into the blackness until it had faded completely, and crystalline ice shattering in the frozen depths as iron backs broke under the unrelenting Fire of Gods.

“Quite poetic, my Son” the Commanders voice rumbled in mirth. Ahn’Hakkun would have blushed if he was clothed in flesh, but that was a long, long time ago. He merely laughed lightly, as did The Commander. He sometimes forgot the staggering power of his Lord, and the ease at which he viewed the thoughts of those around him. It was his Lord after all, who had saved him from damnation, which had torn his lost soul from the depth of Chaos and returned it in part to the mortal realm. It was his Lord that had ended he and his brothers suffering at the hands of the masters of the Warp. It was his Lord that had found the lost remnants of the Legion, and reunited them as had been written by the Blind Prophet long ago. It was his Lord who led them now to both retribution and resolution. His commander turned his sight upon Ahn’Hakkun, and still he felt the strange thrill of fear that accompanied his master’s gaze.

“Maintain course, engage targets as soon as they are within range. Come my son; let us make ready to aid our people, to make right what once was wrong”

The Commander rose from his command throne, his billowing robes falling about him like snow from an iceberg as it cracks, and collected around his feet like a pool of blood. His ornate armour slid soundlessly around him, having been crafted millennia ago by the finest artificers of Mars. He stood well over a head in height over his Helmsman, and his bronzed armour served only to hammer the point home. He swept around his throne, and marched to the bulkhead that led to the ships arming halls. Ahn’Hakkun followed in his lord’s wake, his soul burning with fierce pride and love for his Lord. The eyes of the crew and menials they passed showed similar emotions, and now, more than ever, Ahn’Hakkun knew that they were doing the right thing. This was meant to happen.

The final bulkhead opened to a steel balcony which glowered over the arming chambers. Its form was coated in intricate banners and displays, and wherever the eye wandered it was met with colour and glorious oaths. The banners showed several symbols and signs: a Red Eye staring from a golden sun, an Oroborous slain by a red giant, glittering silver pyramids under stars of gold and red, a Raven rising into space with bloody tears down its chest, and upon the largest and grandest banner of all; a Red Sun with four points, staring like an all-knowing and all-seeing eye from a white field of stars. Beneath was a cavernous chamber, lined with benches and arming wracks, weapons servitors and menials busying here and there with weapons and parts. And above them all, arrayed in glittering rows of Crimson and Silver stood a host of Astartes, thousands strong, their armour daubed in blessed sigils and icons, their weapons oiled and thrice-blessed, their gaze fixed on the Commander as he approached the edge of the balcony to address them. His gaze fell on each and every one of them, and each knew that he saw not just their bodies, but their souls and minds as well. Each of them knew their task and each would not fail him, their father, their sire, their Lord. He raised his hands into the air in a gesture of victory, and spoke in a calm, intense voice:

“My sons, this is the day that was writ centuries ago, of when we would reforge the bonds we had previously broken in shame and despair. We return now, like the Raven of Prospero returns for the hunt, to reclaim what was once ours, and what was once our Fathers. We have learned well from those years in the dark, for the mind is the greatest weapon we each have, and we have grown from petulant youths kicking at the embrace of our Kin to Proud Men with right on our side once more. We threw off the thrall of the Dark Ones, we stood under their oppression too long. We return now, like the Raven of Prospero, like the Sun of Ra’Hutt, like the glittering Stars of the Eternity Pass to bring faith and glory to our people. My sons, my true sons, we come to aid those that have cried for aid for far too long. We do this now, and forever more, in the name of The Emperor!”

At the mention of the Commander’s father, the Astartes bellowed and sang their praise, and clattered their weapons against their armoured chests in adulation. They sang their praise to the Commander and to the mission, and each embraced and clapped the man next to him at the simple joy of finally having the right cause to fight for.

Above them, Magnus the Red, Son of the Emperor raised his mighty blade Hush’Ahunn, a gift he had received the first time he had met with his father, from its scabbard and called over his sons.

“Sons of Magnus - For Glory! For Prospero! For The Emperor!”

*Double post Failure*

Just to make use of this post here, and to build on the rather wonderful and touching models that Enkay has done, My friends and I are actually running a Dark Heresy/Rogue Trader game based in this timeline It is refreshing to say the least ^^

A very nice continuation Seanron, still cant wait to see the Wolves square off with the Ultramarines(yes I know I say that every time, most all my posts will be general back patting).

Didn't Magnus used an axe like weapon?

YES! this is an amazing thing to see a former Traitor legion make their way home one question though

When the thousand sons broke from the thralls of Tzeentch did the rubric break as well was all returned to normal are these marines......human again??

If they are that is amazing who next turns from the darkness of chaos...... Alpharus,Angron,Mortarion, even the prideful Abbadon will he realise the error of his clone father or will he join this war as they last hold out of chaos.

Dark Lord Seanron wrote:Ahn’Hakkun would have blushed if he was clothed in flesh, but that was a long, long time ago.

Dark Lord Seanron wrote:It was his Lord after all, who had saved him from damnation, which had torn his lost soul from the depth of Chaos and returned it in part to the mortal realm. It was his Lord that had ended he and his brothers suffering at the hands of the masters of the Warp.

Unfortunatley, a good proportion of the Sons of Magnus are Rubric Marines, albeit with their souls and free-will returned to themy by the sacrifice of Magnus. I'm going to delve a bit deeper into it later in the story, but a good proportion are also loyalist marines who have rejoined the 'lost legion'

And I'm sure Magnus is quite proficient in the use of multiple weapons Ivan, and I'm sure he has several weapons beyond an axe :p

Cool questions answered!!! hurry up with the next part!! lol WRITE!!

EPICNESS

Roarg! We have need of more pigs for the SPAM Sacrificial Rights!