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Author Topic: Slight fluff for guardsmen, and story (C&C welcome) (Warning - Long)  (Read 1248 times)

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Offline The Unseenly Invincible

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There was a soft clicking in the corridor. I was becoming progressively louder. But it was hardly noticeable, only noticeable if you actually put your mind to it. The Blood Ravens captain, Captain Morleaus, had other things to think about.
   The first one was the fact that he was attached to a wall, in a rather strange way. There wasn't anything holding him back, nothing physical, at least. If his suspicions where correct, he was somewhere in the Eye of Terror, and if you where there, then you couldn't be too careful.
   Moreaus had been on a mission. The planet Ex120 had been recently found to contain large supplies of Adimantium. He had been sent there to protect it. He had also received word that there was a regiment of Guardsmen to arrive, to assist, with the protection of supplies.
   But something had gone wrong. The guardsmen regiment did arrive – about two weeks late. The Astropath had been certain that it had been a lapse in the Warp Travel, and that it was only a navigational misjudgement.
   That was natural, the Warp had its gimmicky ways, however things began to happen. Firstly the Astropath had disappeared, only to be found a few days later desiccated into thousands of fragments. The guardsmen, who to add to their rather grim appearance because of their respirators, acted strangely. They where forbidden to talk to the Blood Ravens, walked around in large groups, all armed, as if a war was about to begin. Worse still, the commander of the guardsmen had “rejected decent, and decided to stay on his ship”.
     Thus Moreaus treated the guardsmen with all due suspicion. He had expected an attack from them, and when they attacked, he was ready. At first there had been a transmission to “directly execute order 154,” as stated by the commander.
   By that point the Blood Ravens had located themselves in a defensive perimeter, around Aegis Defensive lines and in bunkers.
   At that point the hiss of lasguns began, and the guardsmen, who were obviously traitors and heretics (curse them!), embedded themselves into the trenches opposite the Blood Ravens' perimeter.
   What Moreaus failed to realise was the actual power of the traitors. When he inspected their forces at arrival, there was, say, half a regiment, even less, of guardsmen, and very few support vehicles.
   But as soon as the fire-fight started, valkyries, which Moreaus had no recorded before, approached, reinforcing the embattled heretics. The valkyries approached by the hundred – the troopers soon encircled the perimeter, and laid siege to it.
   The guardsman-cowards didn't stick their heads out of the trenches, but any marine who ventured forth from the ruins was soon laying face-down in the dust.
   For many hours the marines remained in this state. No-one came out, no-one came in. But the guardsmen had obviously planned it out – as soon as 14 hours passed, artillery began its bombardment, and the valkyries that deployed the guardsmen began bombing runs.
   The Blood Ravens, to Moreaus's dismay, had little anti-armour weapons – the few that were were mostly missile launchers and lascannons wielded by Devastator squads. Those few weapons proved insufficient.
   The bunkers shook at first, then cracked. The defensive perimeter came crashing down, and it seemed to cost the guardsmen few casualties.
   But then the real devastation approached. Sergeant, and Lieutenant to Moreaus, Gress approved of a dozen Executioner Battle Tanks approaching the perimeter. The Blood Ravens were trapped in rubble.
   Were where his reinforcements? Not all of his whole 100 marines were present. He swore that some still existed within the outposts that he had allocated to them. Or did they?
   It was a massacre. Moreaus, before he passed out, saw his very battle-brothers slaughtered like dogs by the ever impending plasma blasts. He attempted to lead a charge on the tanks, but to no avail – his last thought was concentrated on the pain he was experiencing – a burning plasma blast stuck his chest.
   But he had died hadn't he? He remembered another thing – the plasma blasts ceasing, and a mocking laugh echoing through the plateau.
   The clicking became louder, then stopped. The door on the other side of the room opened, slowly. A figure approached Moreaus.
   His prediction had been correct – it was a sorcerer, and one of Tzeentch. Only one could have predicted such a masterful plan upon his marines.
   He, or she, was garbed in a blue robe that glimmered in the dimness of the room, marks of Tzeentch showing everywhere. Two figures, smaller than the leading one, were garbed in a similar fashion.
   The figure moved up to Moreaus, clicking. It then stopped, and raised its head, which had been concealed by the robe's hood.
   A face met Moreaus's eyes. If it was a face. The whole face was bionics – the eyes were hollow, lifeless, red. But it was the mouth and nose that Moreaus noticed. It was fashioned as a massive bionical tentacle structure, that sprouted from the mouth and nose.
   The figure let Moreaus study its face for some time, then stated:
   “Greeting Captain. I do apologise for the dreadful state you were put in. My Executioner crews got a bit carried away, unfortunately. Welcome to the Eye of Terror, or it's little sub-sector, as I like to call it, the Tear-duct of the Eye. You may call me Lord Verlax.”
   The voice was cool, tempered, and awfully patient.
   Moreaus muttered a reply, then remained silent.
   “I assume that you have many questions about the little incident on the planet Ex120. Do not worry. I shall satisfy your curiosity.”
   Lord Verlax beckoned to one of the other robed figures. It brought a little sphere, which glowed with energy. Lord Verlax opened the orb, and a image appeared on the picture it produced. It was of a solar system.
   “Perhaps I shall start from the beginning. Not long ago, in my perspective at least,” began Lord Verlax, “I have become highly interested in the formation of a army that could be used to infiltrate the Imperium. And, as you have probably noticed, it has been a successful project. I had the luck to discover this place.”
   Lord Verlax made a gesture to the orb. It zoomed the picture out.
   “As you notice here, the Tear-duct of the Eye is concealed by a frequent Warp Storm, one that almost everlasting. This place is only accessible through a Webway Portal, which, I, in a pact with an Archon,” Lord Verlax's tentacle moustache arranged itself into something that reassembled a grin, “have access to, at any time I want. The luck is that Crone Worlds, as the Eldar fools would say, exist here, so there is no better place than to construct a concealed army isn't there?”
   Moreaus's lips remained shut.
   “So I started by exploring this place. It turns out that there were adequate supplies of adimatium here, which, as you saw, created quite a few interesting machines of death, don't you agree?”
   Moreaus still said nothing.
   “I also learnt another trick from the Dark Eldar, the creative beings they are. If their pitiful Haemonculuses can create life, then why shouldn't I, the Sorcerer that has the intelligence and power of a hundred Lord's of Change, be able to? Yes – here upon these planets, these so called “Crone Worlds”, resides breeding chambers for humans. They produce quickly, follow orders without question, and perform the tasks they are made for perfectly. Marvellous, isn't it?”
   Moreaus looked at Lord Verlax.
   Lord Verlax continued: “Unfortunately supplies of adamantium fail to last forever. But,” Lord Verlax used his approximate grin again, “Lady Malys, a wondrous person from whom even I can learn from, describes the Imperium as: 'as large as it is, the Imperium is still only human'. I could not agree more. It is but child's play to devise a plan to destroy the 'Emperor's Finest'. And thus, adamantium continues to thrive within my region.”
   Moreaus continued glaring at Lord Verlax, and finally spat:
   “I care not for your meaningless machinations, and your unrealistic plans. But I have one question: Why do you tell me this?”
   Lord Verlax laughed. It was the same mocking laugh from Ex120.
   “I have lived a long time captain. Yes, a very long time. Long enough to see the Emperor with my own eyes.”
   “You saw the Emperor?” Moreaus realised the danger of this Sorcerer. Most of the Tzeentch sorcerers he encountered before were fools with veiled doublespeak, and were nought but puppets in the plans of Tzeentch. Moreaus had just discovered their puppet-master. A sorcerer this old must know much more than Moreaus had at first anticipated, and thus a danger of its own kind.
   “Yes, I saw he Emperor – the fool he was. His campaigns were doomed to failure, for his plans were foolish. He, in all of his so-called 'greatness' was impatient, though he might of said otherwise. He wanted the world, and he wanted it alone – his puppet show, him as the puppeteer. But both you and I know that that is impossible. One being cannot alone rule this galaxy.”
   It was Moreaus turn to laugh.
   “So you think you can achieve any better sorcerer? Your greater than the Emperor?”
   “I have deduced much hard work to have the Dark Gods see this galaxy as theirs. Or should I say, Dark God. For only Change rules all. It was once stated by the Daemon Amon 'Chakai:
   'In the end, aren't the servants of Khorne changing the heroes of man or alien into naught but headless corpses? Aren't the plague bitten madmen of Nurgle changing healthy organisms into rot and decay? Aren't the seducers of Slaneesh making those who are sane into slaves of impulse and emotion?'
   “You see Captain, this world will be ruled by the Dark Powers, and the Dark Powers will be ruled by the greatest of them.”
   “Blast your incandescent riddling and rhetoric sorcerer! Give me a straight answer – why do you tell me this?” blurt out Moreaus. But he had already guessed why.
   Lord Verlax laughed again.
   “Ask yourself Captain – does the Imperium have purpose? What is its ultimate goal? Does it not take two steps forwards and two steps backward? What does millions of lives sacrificed daily mean?”
   Moreaus was caught off guard. No one ever dared to question the Imperium, and he had also not given this much thought.
   “So my strait answer is this: I know that you can see past the foolishness of mankind Captain. Though you are only human that will change, as everything under Lord Tzeentch does. Join me in this quest for purpose. Become a part of something more.”
   Moreaus considered this. In most cases he would of spat, and called the Sorcerer a fool – he cared not for power over others and power of self. But this sorcerer challenged the whole ideology of the Imperium. And he agreed.
   The idea sparked in his head, and clasped itself onto Moreaus's very soul. He sat there for what seemed like hours, the intense gaze of Lord Verlax upon him for all this time. He finally said:   “Then what are the conditions of entry, my Lord?”
   Lord Verlax nodded, then said: “If I ask you a question, and it is within your power to answer it, then you shall do so. I have a question for you right now: you are familiar with the positions of your troops of Ex120?”
   “Yes, my Lord?”
   “Good. Give me their co-ordinates, and we shall see them here, very soon.”   

What do people think?
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Offline Hanith

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Re: Slight fluff for guardsmen, and story (C&C welcome) (Warning - Long)
« Reply #1 on: April 10, 2012, 11:45:42 AM »
Wasn't bad. My only complaint was the SM and Verlax seemed too cliché. The whole time I kept having flashbacks to Austin Powers and Doctor Evil/ James Bond and Tevelyan. Case in point:

“I care not for your meaningless machinations, and your unrealistic plans. . ."

 “Blast your incandescent riddling and rhetoric sorcerer!"

If this was what you were going for, then keep going. If not, try to think up a little bit of background for both characters. This background does not need to be elaborate. It is simply to give them reason behind their actions/persona and give them a bit more character.

While I know that any form of criticism on army fluff can be very dissuading, keep in mind this is like painting your army; You are doing it for yourself/your army and simply letting others observe.
For me: 16.667% chance of failure equates to a 83.334% failure rate.

 


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