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Offline Myen'Tal

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The New Word (40k Online Edition)
« on: August 29, 2017, 06:12:45 AM »
You know, I remember when I first got into writing at the naive age of sixteen, ha-ha. I was not doing so well in Algebra in High School, my father got mad and took away all of my electronics except my laptop :P. I spent a few days wondering what I would do with my time for the rest of the semester. 40konline was something I had only recently discovered back then, and I loved the fan-fiction so many people were using on the site. So I decided to delve into fan-fiction for the first time, and created An Infinite Circuitry of Fate, which looking back on that thread now, I don't understand how it got 14,000 views, hah! It really was my first attempt at writing, and I'm kind of proud of it in an embarrassed sort of way :P.

But I figured, quite a few years later that maybe I had improved my technique a little bit, just a little bit. I didn't write for a number of years, but when I got interested again, I wanted to write another 40k story while figuring some stuff out. And so The New Word was born. Not a good title but it kind of stuck after a while.

In either case, since it is already complete, why not post it here on 40konline. Granted, it's far from perfect, but I think it's a damned site better than An Infinite Circuitry of Fate(Though thank you to those supported me back then, not sure if any of you are still here ;D).

Anyway, due to forum restrictions, I cannot post a full chapter like I would like to. But that's okay, it can wait for tomorrow. I'm literally moving my posts from another forum into this thread, minus commentary and critique. If anyone is interested in seeing this story get an editing pass through, just let me know.

Also, The New Word has changed a lot since I last posted the beginning chapters on here, so I would hope it would be worthwhile to read them again if you read the previous iterations ;D. And if you read A.I.C.O.F. those many long years ago, then you may find the surprise return of one character... HMM ;).

The New Word


Chapter One: Underground Metro

Lyra Savakis. The Superiors saw a young girl in her early twenties, chestnut colored hair styled in a fishtail braid. Four years’ worth of training had given her middling, athletic build a more robust edge over some of the other girls. Her skin was a natural light shade of beige, on the verge of becoming bronze in her prime years yet to come. Bright oceanic eyes gazed through a window on the metro-bus taking them through the hidden places of a vast Hive city. Her face was like most of the other girls raised alongside her in the scholas: sculpturesque, hard, and radiant. Nothing stood out about her, but the Canoness must’ve noticed something in her that no one else could.

An endless stretch of underground walls are blurred by the constant motion of metro-bus. It must’ve been speeding at a minimum of eighty miles per hour; she could even feel the pressure in her gut despite her power armor. A silver bullet in the dimly lit darkness. Engines scream to the top of their capacity. Thrusters and stabilizers constantly wobble to keep the anti-grav train in suspended motion. The nightscape of Helike came through the darkness on occasion. The capital of the Hive planet Tyrannus.

Her wary eyes fell upon anyone in her vicinity; usually, she’d be sitting in her seat with a look of mild contempt plain on her face. Having to travel with the common citizenry often provoked similar expressions. Those were the days she would proudly where her helm to hide it. There was no reason to in this instance, the train was nearly empty save two dozen battle nuns of the Adepta Sororitas. Many dressed in resplendent blue battle robes that one would usually don over their armor. Half of the women riding the train wore none. The initiates must’ve felt empowered by the bolters that glinted in the light. Lyra knew that she did.

A tiny smirk crossed her lips at the memories that surfaced. Oh holy of holies, grant her the strength that saw her through the massacres of Dynara and Itanos. Bless her with the strength and immortal essence of St. Celestine, and reunite all mankind under the one true Imperium of man.

The metro-bus began to skid into a gradual halt. It slid forward for a few more kilometers before coming full stop before a station atop a great vista overlooking Itanos. The Hive city awaited them like a tempting mistress, calling to them to explore every inch of its surface in a never ending adventure. She could see the estates of the nobility and the Imperial palaces reach out into a star littered night. Below her was the heart of villainy and corruption: the under city. The city of lights looked to be in the midst of a festival. Fireworks spiraled up into the stars like surface-to-atmosphere battery barrages.

A shame the deed of the day would be killing. To stamp out anything that moved if it resembled the hedonistic cultist, the abhorable demon, or the pitiful undead. Whichever one crossed them first.

Arva was sunk into an adjacent seat, blinking the sleep from her bleary-eyed stare. She extended Lyra a nod. “I’m ready to crack some heathen heads. How ‘bout you, Lyra?” Her exhaustion was completely acceptable. The hour was late and the last minute debriefings had stolen some of their energy. Like Lyra, she too was dressed in thick royal blue robes. The pair of them looked like clerics, not initiates belonging to the Order of the Emperor’s Grace.

“I am ready.” Lyra eventually spoke, staring down at her bolter intently, inspecting every piece of it like she always had since the beginning of her training.

Sister Meril’s matronly voice grated through her V.O.X. grill, taking on an aspect of war Lyra had never quite experienced before. “Whoever dies this day, I certainly hope you two are not among them. Give our foes the flames of retribution and the honed steel of your ammunition. All of you!”

Arva and Lyra both bowed their heads slightly and uttered in reverent tones. “Through fire and steel, we give the enemy our absolution.”

A proven Sister shouted from the front of the train. “On your feet! Sororitas! On your feet! The train has stopped! Ready your weapons! Be ready to kill anything! Welcome home!”

The air was crisp and cool; the essence of winter had touched the city, though no snow was falling outside the station. The noise of anti-grav cars and ground vehicles disturbed the night, but could not drown out the sounds of gunfire. When the train left, all of them would be trapped in the heart of Helike. Where that was, Lyra did not have the faintest clue, but she was here to deliver the Emperor’s will. With any luck, she’d do so under his cloak of protection.

Canoness Kaska Rosi glided off the station train. Trailing her resplendent armor was a Golden Fleece cloak, laced through the open maws of stuffed Falxian Lion Heads. The metro lights made the sienna skin on her naked face gleam like polished stone. Dark jade eyes swept through the throng of her soldiers and trainees. Her lips uttered benedictions and prayers on the star struck recruits. The bodyguard and able bodied sisters formed a tight noose around them. “One dozen initiates and a hand full of battle sisters… Not odds I would like, but there’s no time like the present to start shaping this rabble up. Move them out!”

Meril laughed at the tenseness in her girls’ posture, trying to relieve the hesitation in their expressions. “Do not let fear cloud your judgment now; you were all only boasting a day ago! Perhaps we should pray as we march?”

“From the lightning and the Tempest”

“Our Emperor, deliver us”

“From plague, temptation and war”

“Our Emperor, deliver us”

“From the scourge of Kraken”

“Our Emperor, deliver us”


~***~

EDIT: Made some name corrections, mainly the confusion of Hive City Helike and Itanos ;).

« Last Edit: August 29, 2017, 06:34:59 AM by MyenTal »
“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
― Glen Cook, The Black Company

Offline Myen'Tal

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Re: The New Word (40k Online Edition)
« Reply #1 on: August 30, 2017, 02:32:05 PM »
NOTE: Alright, I felt I needed to make some changes, mainly paragraph structure and some smaller changes.

“I am ethereal. A being of flesh as much as I am one of imagination. I sit upon the edge of your mind, listening intently to your thoughts and telling you how to proceed with your pitiful, pathetic life.

“I am your heart’s true desire, the reason it beats so impulsively, all to pump fresh blood into that exhausted, limited mind of yours. Imagine me and I shall come to you. Speak to me and you shall hear my whispers. Empower me with souls and see your greatest desire fulfilled upon a whim.

The name I have given myself for the sake of all mortals is Nyst, a daemon of gods best left unnamed. You may sup from this cup of knowledge mortal, go ahead, it is my gift to you, take it.


Lriean Tarithinon checked the rising levels in disgust coming over him. The Greater Demon perched atop a ruined throne looked through his mind and soul. She could feel him out in a heartbeat. The greater demon possessed the form of a mutated centaur, a mythological figure from the ancient days of the mon-keigh. Its lower body was covered in slimy, diamond hard reptilian scales, supported by four stallion-like legs. Reptilian feet armed with thick claws and a glistening tail nearly the size of Lriean himself made the rest.

Upon this lower body was the form of a slender woman, her naked skin a pale blue that was barely visible in the ill lit darkness. Such a forbidden sight remained hidden behind two columns of beautiful black hair coming down either side of her face. The soulless pits of her eyes leered at him and she smiled, revealing a shark’s mouth of teeth and slithering green tongue.

The infamous demon the legends called Nyst, reached out with her humanoid arms and beckoned him to come closer. Lriean did not feel much obliged to do so. Instead he dropped the silver cup in his hand, raised his las-gun at the greater demon. Staring down any demon always took a deep long look into oneself.

After all, the Warp was forged by the dreams, desires, and nightmares of the sentient races. Nyst knew what he desired. She had what he desired playing through her fingers. Ar’ka’ram’s soul stone burned furiously in the demon’s grip. A legendary Exarch from the artificial planet of Ulthwe, sister craftworld of his home Teyl-Jhen. How many Farseers and Autarchs would pay handsomely for that, it could be worth far more than this warp thing knew.

He braced himself for the demon to try and strike him. “Let’s not play this game with each other. I don’t like it. You must be tired of it after the millionth time or so hope.”

Nyst snarled in her many voices voice, appearing unsatisfied with the reaction from the eldar outfitted in loose Imperial fatigues. “I don’t think you actually understand your peril, little Lriean. But alas, maybe I’ll oblige you.”

The greater demon stared at the jewel, full of longing for the soul within. Her pupils shrunk to the size of a small coin, gazed out into nothing. Lriean watched her commune with the warp and watch a dozen different futures in the span of a few breaths.
He blinked and the moment ended.

Nyst cracked the stone with a powerful bite. A demonic roar erupted from her throat the likes that Lriean had never heard before, bursting with satisfaction. Ar’ka’ram screamed out for the last time and evaporated into Nyst’s very being. She cast the ruined shards before the eldar’s feet, nodding her approval as it shattered against cold steel.

Nyst made a smug grin. “I shall part for a time, little Tarithinon. Perhaps we shall meet again when you are more sensible? I haven’t given up on you yet, Lriean Tarithinon.” Nyst lazily rose to her feet. She hissed at the alien archeologist. A passing warning as she faded away into mist.

“Ashes and Dust, Lriean. I am ethereal, you are but the former.”

Lriean kneeled down to pick up the shattered fragments of the soul stone, letting it fall through his fingers before he sighed hopelessly. He soaked in the sight of the ruins around him. Dank, dark, and foreboding. None of that had deterred him from arriving in the city of Itanos and finding this subterranean ruin deep within the bowels of the hive city.

The cultists that had originally been here had let the place fall to ruin; many of the light fixtures had been busted or flickering in and out of existence. And the plascrete walls had been caved in during the warfare that this place had saw probably years ago.

Why a throne appeared at the end of this chamber was beyond him. This was no longer an age of kings, but one of governors and palaces. He studied it a little while longer, imagining Nyst lounging there like a Queen of shadows. Heroes of the Honored Dead had attempted to dethrone the Demoness from her position of power more than once.

No one had succeeded over the centuries, not even the fabled Tiger of Teyl-Jhen: Farseer Raihan Tarithinon. Maybe Aryriel, Raihan’s only child would have attempted to follow in his father’s footsteps. He was more of a warrior than a demon-hunter. And his exile during the war for Tarmathon IV did him no favors. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to visit him one day, he could use some well-honed muscle like him working with the crew.

“Qu’nalan.” Lriean lifted two fingers to tap into the comm-bead linked on his left ear, listening to the soft static for a moment before a voice registered him.

The tone was darker than his and more hushed. “Lriean. Did you acquire the stone?”

“I ran into a little trouble, well more than that, but I managed. The stone is useless now.”

A moment silence spelled out the disappointment. “I see. Well get back up here, it’s time to leave this place in search of something else. Qu’nalan out.”

Didn’t Qu’nalan know that there was a war waging out there right now? What new leads could he possibly have that they hadn't talked about? Well, he would know when he spoke to him in person. Time to leave here. Whatever this place was.

Lriean threw his las-gun over a shoulder and began to trek off into the distance.

“Lriean.”

“Huh? Who goes there?” The relic hunter called out, placing a cautious hand on his las-gun. He cast glances into the darkness, yet saw nothing.

Taryi’s voice carried over the darkness, echoing in the haunting quiet. It interrogated him softly. “I am only curious. Why don’t you possess the soul stone of Ar’ka’ram? If you needed aid, you should have called upon me. I would have gladly come with you.”

Lriean gently dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “No offence, Taryi, but I don’t think your acquired skills would have helped me much.”

The Howling Banshee emerged from the darkness in the direction he was heading. Her curly auburn hair bounced with every step, threatening to cover her bright jade eyes and the dark inked tattoos partially covering her face. She was clad in sleek armor that fit tightly around her slender frame and held a two handed executioner in her hands. Taryi Iuduo loomed one full head over the strangely dressed Lriean. Her gaze fell over him like a stern mentor rebuking a student who had just made a grave mistake.

“Then what happened?” She interrogated again, curiosity peaked at the actions of her fellow kin.

The archeologist kicked aside some bones. “Nyst is what happened, I never thought I’d bump into such a strange demon of legend, but here we are. Talking about it after the fact.”

Taryi’s eyes widened a fraction, uttering the name to herself as if contemplating what implications the name had. Then the look in her eyes suddenly steeled into a sterner expression. She looked Lriean up and down. Took in his current state of being. “You look no worse for wear. Why is that?”

“She simply left after taking what she wanted. I’m not sure what else I’ve could have done, given the circumstances.”

“Of course not.” The howling banshee stated, unimpressed. “Let us move, I’m sure you desire to leave here as soon as possible.”

The two began to retrace their footsteps back the way they came. They stepped through a ruined corridor with its walls gutted and littered with rotting carcasses and skeletons. On what portion of the walls that had held out for all these years had various types of graffiti and messages sprawled across their surface. An elevator shaft soon revealed itself that would take them out of the dreary pit they had descended into.

Lriean pressed the button according to the highest level. The elevator doors squealed shut. “You didn’t by chance find anything of use down here, did you?”

“No.” Taryi studied him with an incredulous look, examining his face to see if he was being serious.

“Just wondering.” Lriean said distracted. Other things were weighing down on his mind. “What was Qu’nalan doing before you came down here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Taryi’s shadow fell over Lriean like a giant even from across the elevator. She wasn’t only taller than him, her figure was far more robust in muscle mass than his own. Taryi was a proven and veteran warrior, Lriean was an accomplished archeologist. He kept his dark blonde hair cut short plain and short, finely kempt and nearly covering his large silver pupils. He was well aware that Taryi’s shrine greatly respected strength.

There was no telling why she agreed to join the expedition or even bother listening to Lriean. She didn’t have an eye for the tedious side of unearthing artifacts and it definitely bored her. When the boredom becomes too much, she simply leaves the job for a week or two. That never failed to distress Lriean more than anything, considering the constant dangers his work put him in. He may have been the leader and brain the rest of the team connected to on paper. But in reality, he had no leash on either of his companions.

A bell ringed within the elevator and the doors came squeaking open. The open night sky proved a welcome change, even mostly covered by towering sky scrapers raising countless stories into the next level of the Hive.

Taryi and Lriean entered a small plaza, completed with a small garden and Imperial chapel in the midst of it. There was a massive demon looming around the chapel, easily matched Lriean’s height, built of crimson sinew and muscle. A wicked tongue licked hungrily at the air and beady red eyes stared into their souls from afar. The bloodletter held a demonically forged blade in its right hand, nothing else in its left, but it looked poised and ready to strike.

“Qu’nalan!?” Lriean called out, but there was no answer.

Two more appeared out of the shadows, coming to stand near their comrade and leering as they began to slowly approach. Each of them looked menacing in their own right. The pair of Eldar instantly grabbed their weapons and stormed off into two different directions.

Lriean kicked his las-rifle from single shot to full auto and opened up a salvo of las-bolts that punched the one of the far left- the one nearest him- in the chest several times. The monster took the bullets in stride and laughed confidently at the upstart. It roared out the demonic challenge before three blood letters sprung into a charge of their own. Lriean opened fire again at the same target.
The first shots hit the beast’s legs and torso before they worked their way up to the daemon’s face. The blood letter shielded himself with the massive bulk of its arm, raised its sword up to cleave Lriean who simply rolled out of the way as he fired.

The Eldar Relic hunter sprang to his feet, ducking beneath an arched swing meant to cleave his head off. He brought his bayonet up, but the blood letter’s arms were still covering its face. Instead he swung the knife on the edge of his las-gun into the things gut, managing to stab twice before the red demon brought its elbow down on his temple and sent him spinning away. The minion of Khorne pressed his advantage. The hell blade swung around its head, brought down in an overhead strike.

Lriean dived and rolled away from the attack, barely managing to not be scathed by it. He threw the las-gun at the demon to temporarily halt its momentum. In that space of time, he drew his shuriken pistol and unleashed a flurry of laser fire that would have shredded a lesser man in an instant. It merely injured the blood letter, causing it to recoil from Lriean and use its sword as a shield.

Taryi twirled around the first blood letter to reach her, stabbed in with one side of her executioner, impaling the thing in the gut. She remembered to twist before departing the blade from flesh, bringing the blade back around to parry the second blood letter in a shower of sparks. The two power weapons clashed for a few seconds. Each one struggled to gain an edge over the other. She flipped backwards before the blood letter could bring his blade back for another strike, cleaving the first she had engaged in two with an effortless strike.

With a howl of rage, the first member of the hellish pack departed. It gently melted into a fine mist and fell back into the realm of nightmares. The second seemed undeterred, instead pumped its blade into the air and roared triumphantly over the screams of its dying comrade. It called to the shadows in a diabolic tongue.

“Cursed thing, I’ll slay you and your entire ilk!”

More blood letters came roaring out of the darkness, blades burning brightly with hellfire and murderous intent in their eyes. They stormed forward across the plaza to lock arms with the pair of eldar and claim their souls for Khorne. They split into groups like the first three: two for Lriean, the other three for Taryi. They howled like wild animals in the night, already covered in the blood of many innocents.

“Lriean! Taryi! Look out below!” A voice shouted from the rooftops, Qu’nalan stood atop a housing block over-looking the plaza, clad in the armor of the Dark Reaper and cradling a tempest launcher in his arms.

Qu’nalan fired twin rockets into the rushing hoard of blood letters, aiming for the pair that were chasing after Lriean. The first rocket scathed the blood letter that Lriean had been blasting away since the fight began, the other one had landed perfectly between the other two lagging behind.

The blast gouged out layers of asphalt and blew apart one of the blood letters in a gory display of blood. The second was flung across the plaza by the blast, twisting an arm and snapping it on impact with the asphalt where Taryi was currently fighting.

Disengaging from combat, the howling banshee gracefully darted from the other blood letters to the injured one, effortlessly leaping over it and inserting one end of her blade between the thing’s spine. She spun on her heel toward the other three, staring them down as they meant to surround her.

A knowing smile crossed her lips and she charged into them. Lithe and agile like a lioness, Taryi easily climbed up, leapt over the hunched blood letter, and took off one of the slavering creature’s leg below the knee.

It naturally collapsed, trying to reach out for the Aspect warrior with the intent of savagely pulling one of her arms off. In a split-second reaction, she answered with a quick thrust from her blade into the demon’s gaping mouth. The blade erupted out the other end in a spray of blood. It slowly began to fade back into mist, but still kept a firm grip on her arm.

Grunting in surprise, Taryi twisted and pulled against the demon’s superior strength. All the while she watched the other two charge her down. But an idea popped in her head at that moment she heard the rocket come down. She fell gracefully onto her back, rolled to one side with all her strength, pulling the fading demon on top like a human shield. The first rocket buried itself deep into one bloodletter’s gut. It promptly blossomed in an explosion of blood and mist, the shear force sent the second flying and bought her a little more time.

The red hide protecting her vanished. Once again her strength was her own to command. Taryi flipped to her feet and let her executioner fly from her fingers toward the last one trying to erect itself near the chapel wall. The blade impaled the demon through the stomach, carving itself into the cold metal of the chapel and pinning the blood letter against it.

“Lreian!”

Lriean kicked his kneeling blood letter in the teeth, bringing his bayonet from his re-acquired las- rifle right into the beast’s eye socket. Not even flinching from the grotesque pop, he slid the bayonet out of the gun and proceeded to fire the remainder of his ammunition into the blood letter stuck upon the chapel. The las-bolts hit accurately and in dense succession, repeatedly blasted away at the minion’s face until only exposed, bullet ridden brain matter remained.

“Are you two alright?” Qu’nalan asked, but did not stop for an answer. “I’m making my way off this roof top!”

Lriean shrugged at Taryi with a grim smile, wiping the sweat off his face. “What’s next? Haha, zombies!?”

The howling banshee smiled back, shrugging carelessly as well. “I wouldn’t joke about such things here. Who knows, perhaps it will be.”
« Last Edit: August 30, 2017, 08:59:55 PM by MyenTal »
“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
― Glen Cook, The Black Company

 


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