We were once a part of something great. We were once a part of the Vlka Fenryka, the wolves of Fenris. We were an entire Great Company; the Bloodied Wolves. We were known as the fiercest, the most bloodthirsty and, most importantly, the best. There were five hundred of us.
We always fought where the fighting was at its finest. Our Blood Claws were famous for killing enmeies with their bare teeth after losing their weapons. Our Long Fangs were considered the best marksmen in the Imperium, so it came as no surprise when we were sent to a hive world to root out a Genestealer cult infestation. A few Dark Angel companies came with us. Our task was to find and kill the planets Patriarch.
The moment we landed we knew we'd be done for. The first Drop Pods were literally flooded with hybrids. Squads Yellow Eagle and Red Tooth were obliterated. Imperial Guard airforces bombed a landing site for hours until we could land, and every centimetre of land was a battle. Far too many of our younger brothers were slain as wave after wave of hybrids threw themselves at us.
The battle raged on for hours, if not days. As Grey Hunters and Blood Claws fought and died, the traitorous Dark Angels stood behind the lines, only giving supporting fire. Curse them

After a week of almost constant fighting, our numbers were depleted. Two hundred Blood Claws and Grey Hunters were dead, five thousand Guardsmen lay dead around the Hive. But the Dark Angels?
Not a hundred, not twenty, but twelve casualties. They lost twelve Astartes, while we sacrificed almost half of our company.

To make matters worse, we didn't even find the Patriarch. We got orders to leave the planet by dawn.
We were awoken by the sound of several Stormravens taking off. It was the Dark Angels, leaving without us. It wasn't long before the cult started attacking us. We voxed for fire support, reinforcements, evacuating – anything. There was no reply.

There were a hundred of us left. There was no way we'd all fit in the two Stormwolves. Wolf Lord Eigil, bless him, said he and his Wolf Guard would stay behind and buy us time. I was half dead after having my legs ripped off, but he refused to take my place. Me and twenty other Grey Hunters left. The eighty others stayed on the surface. They held a town square for hours. As the first Great Company arrived we thought we would be able to save the Wolf Lord, who stood alone with only ten of his guard left.

Until the Exterminatus began.

I saw the Dark Angel ships fire their cyclonic torpedoes. I screamed as the planets atmosphere ignited.




We fled. They followed us, but as we retreated to Fenris we were safe.
As we licked our wounds, a deep hatred started burning within us. While we could not attack the Dark Angels as Space Wolves, we decided to go rogue. Brothers from all companies joined us, wanting revenge for their fallen brothers.
Soon our numbers were back to five hundred, and we left Fenris.

We sought out Dark Angels wherever they were, declared our cause and killed them.
A Knight house being investigated for heresy joined us, giving us some much needed armour. A Deathwatch Killteam defected and joined us.

As more and more renegades, outcasts and volunteers joined us, the Inquisition and the Dark Angels started pursuing us. Our fleet, consisting of just two Battle Barges, stands no chance against the might of the Inquisition. So we flee, living as nomads on our crusade.

We are the Bloodied Wolves, and we will stand tall.

For Russ, and the Wolftime.