The night was absolute and freezing in the Exodite world of Arché. They say, that only the most talented local Seers could survive outdoors past summer in that planet without cold-resistant gear, for their bodies were trained to lock heat within them – and though the armour they wore so gallantly regulated their temperature, the Aspect Warriors of Craftworld Anamnialoc felt the ire of Isha as they advanced through the violet-tainted woods, masking the sound of their footing with the rustling of leaves. The mon-keigh had decided to mount a counter-offensive in the middle of a valley after being hunted throughout the planet like Eldanesh was by Khaine. They ignored that such a place would be their graveyard, they ignored that what little resistance they could offer would be their final stand. “It is time.” A deep voice broke the silence, though the words were only heard inside each Aspect's mind. A heartbeat after, fire lit the tomb-machine that was the pillar of the Space Marines' formation – deadly wounded by the touch of an elegant Bright Lance. The silver-armoured Astartes broke left and right, with discipline and fervour, to avoid being pinned down. Their bolters fired at the distant violet of trees as their leaders demanded a target from their reckons - yet the scouts were still and silent, lost inside the dream from which there was no return. The Space Marines and their transports scattered to avoid the massive amount of fire power that suddenly rained upon their adamantium shells - though unfortunately for them, the Children of the Stars already knew they would break formations, and had been waiting for them to make that same exact move. Striking Scorpions came out from under the snow and Howling Banshees charged from the tree-line, hesitating naught to charge against the isolated groups of biologically-enhanced humans. The first Space Marine got a chance to sway his chainsword once, then twice, but then his arm was rendered useless by the perfectly executed cut of one of the Scorpions – right between the armour joints of the Astartes' armpit. Another Scorpion drove her own chainsword under his head, severing it from it's body. The well-thought counter-fire downed two Eldar Aspects before the shots of a distant Shrine of Dark Reapers blew to pieces the cumbersome heavy weapon carriers of the Astartes and the Dire Avengers began their sweeping advance, firing relentlessly and remorselessly their bloody Bladestorm. Back to back, the few remaining Marines gathered around their wounded leader. “We need our reserves – now!” Barked the elder Marine through his own bloody earpiece, but only white noise answered. Another of his warriors fell, red blood splattered in contrast to the white pure snow. “Do not despair, brothers! Reinforcements are under way”, he lied. But his hopes became reality when he heard that familiar roar of Imperial engines and felt the threading of Land Raiders shake the ground. The tree line that separated them from their encampment shook and cracked violently. “They're here! Steady now, Marines!” But the hopes of the ceramite warriors was crushed within their silver chests, as they saw the entire formation of Land Raiders storming towards them... All set in flames. There was a terrible monster towering behind them with a sword of pure fire and a hand dripping blood. “Impossible...” One by one the last remaining bolters were silenced, until the violet woods were peaceful once again – interrupted only by the echoing laughter of the god of war himself...
Yeah, Open Office is OP! My writings are sure to speed up now. Thanks for the link, and also for the inspiration. Some times all it takes to write is to know someone somewhere is waiting to read you.
Thank you for posting more I especially liked the detail of the Striking Scorpions hiding under the snow in ambush, and the Bloody-Handed God at the end ... and that you weave our myths into your stories so well. If Hoec brings you more tales I would be glad to hear them!
Wow... Remind me not to post things at three in the morning next time - look at that terrible, terrible grammar! Such structures are unforgivable for one such Poet! I have to fix this at once! Yet must go to Paris and get my mother some things. And well well! Someone that actually knows who Hoec is! One of the less mentioned in our pantheon. Are you sure you wouldn't like to RP? I don't mean the battle-oriented sorts, more like a story-weaving one. It would serve well to inspire us - or at least me - to write more.
I would love to RP! I only saw the Eldar RPs on here too late to join in ... story-weaving ones are the ones I like best
I edited and expanded that battle. By Isha, that was a terrible post! How in my right mind did I think it fit for showing?
