grey knight short story

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grey knight short story

Post by hardrainfalling on Fri May 27, 2011 3:12 am

Chapt 1
Tristan stirred slowly entering the world of living from sleep, eyes blurring to clarity, he shook his head to shake out the cramps, stretching his left arm he spread his finger tips and clenched his fist his knuckles cracking audible even through the glove of his power armour. He rose to his feet his armour glowing a blood red in the dull light of the dropship, its sliver and gold dulled in the low light, he reached up to rub his sleepy face and reached for his helmet lying near by. He looked across at the sleeping form of Jonah smiled and gave the sleeping warrior a heft kick laughing as the huge warrior growled and rose to his feet grumbling.
"Time to wake Jonah, places to see people to meet, the Emperors light to bring into..."
"Save me from my brother sergeants good humour" Jonah mumbled, now fully awake he towered over the brother sergeant by a good foot, dressed in the sliver and gold armour of his order Jonah was an impressive sight even among his fellow grey knights. Jonah reached up into the weapons locker high above his head and as if holding a tiny child gently lifted down a package, wrapped lovingly in ancient parchment Jonah carefully unwrapped the huge weapon. Ugly yet with a feeling of unseen menace the psycannon was his pride and joy he he could wield it like an ordinary man would carry a bolter.
Along the dropship the rest of the squad was stirring, weapons lovingly unwrapped and the musty smell of incense filled the interior. The warriors moved with grace even within the cramped conditions, they stretched and armed themselves yet there was no idle chatter, no sign of excitement at the prospect of battle, this was their duty, their honour, and their burden.
"Let us pray my brothers" Tristan knelt and with practiced grace his squad followed, heads bowed, arms leaning on their holy weapons, minutes passed in silent prayer and without order, just as they had done a thousand times, as one they looked up and rose to their feet. The dropship rocked gently and sounds of battle intruded into the dark interior, the smell of smoke and explosive battling to be felt against the sacred incense even at this altitude.
Tristan, his helmet slung across his back for the moment, smiled his impish grin showing clearly through his grey black beard
"My Brothers let us bring the Emperors justice to his enemies, leave none alive"
"You enjoy this far too much", mumbled Jonah from behind his face mask
The dropship door slid open, showing a view of pure hell.

Tristan ran on through fire and death and chaos, shock waves battered against his armour making his purity seal parchments dance in crazy directions as he hurtled down the trench system, his heart and other enhanced organs working hard and in harmony with his ancient power armour. He was breathing hard, his mouth tasting coppery with taints of blood and adrenaline, his focus absolute. Almost unconsciously his arm would raise and his storm bolter hurl forth armour piercing bolts, which struck with unfailing accuracy leaving a trail of dead and dying, of shattered limbs and screaming cultists, these were minor distractions his prey was further ahead. His squad followed, he knew this without looking, part of his mind could hear and register the dull rhythmic pattern of Jonahs psycannon, his mind trained and attuned dully sensing the spirits of his brothers, taking comfort from the calm and duty they radiated.
He reached a battered door blood smeared across it, befouled with the symbols of the lost, their childlike graffiti reflecting the regression of their souls to an earlier more primitive state where desire ruled. His mind now sensed his foe, a cold hatred burned in him, gone the impish grin, replaced by a steal-eyed focus. Even through the steel door the warp creatures mind was like the buzzing of a thousand carrion flies within his mind, it told a story of decay, of rot, of filth.
Slowly raising his glaive Tristan offered a prayer for forgiveness, he knew his weapon was a tool but more than that, he had carried it into battle countless times, it was like another one of his brothers, trusted and pure. He focused the weapon humming softly, a reassuring sound, like a pure note of sound among the filth and chaos of battle. With a blur of movement Tristan drove his weapon through the door slicing through it with one fluid motion. The two halves of the door fell inwards with an ominous clang, darkness beckoned.
His Squad had gathered, no words spoken Tristan knew they could also sense the daemon, their minds trained and armoured against its lies, such creatures preyed on man, seducing the weak with lies, driving strong men insane, cancerous parasites in the body of the Imperium. Well today the hunter was about to become the hunted, the thought gave Tristan comfort and his impish grin returned, yet the focus never left his blue grey eyes. As one the squad moved, graceful even in the semi darkness, Jonah's huge form ducking to avoid low pipes. Fungi and moulds had grown rapidly in the dark and wet, a hot moist lair for the thing that awaited them. The Daemon then launched its mental assault the mental buzzing rose to deafening proportions, the creature had used this many times and it awaited it victims’ screams as they would tear at their ears and noses trying to remove imagined parasites. Tristan sensed the assault, the Canticle of Absolution springing quickly to mind, a cool sensation washed over the minds of the brothers like cold clear water washing away the flies and the filth, the mental assault was shattered.
The Daemon experienced a new emotion, one it had not felt in a thousand years, fear. The Squad entered the room and spread before the creatures bloated form, Tristan stepped forward,
"Jonah, bring the Emperors light into this dark place"
At the command Jonah's cannon thundered out the heavy shells ripping open the buildings roof, shafts of light weak but seeming dazzling in the gloom pierced the darkness surround the creature in a cage of sunlight. Where spent shells fell and touched the creature its skin rippled and burned, repulsed by the purity of the ammunition. Its fear grew; it savoured this long forgotten emotion, yet it was sure that it was the humans that should be feeling it. These warriors showed no fear; their minds were closed to its assaults, their very presence physically hurt.
The creature lunged forth a huge rusted sword in its gibberious hand, the Knights attacked like wolves around a bear, dancing in and out, cutting, slashing, a graceful ballet of death. The shafts of sunlight reflecting off their silver armour filled the chamber with light. The creature's movements became more desperate as it tired, its wounds telling yet the knights remained graceful, controlled, five minds linked as one united in brotherhood and single purpose. Finally the great beast slumped to the floor, life still within it but now a dying ember.
"Brother Jonah, finish him"
Jonah stepped forward and unloaded a burst from his weapon into the creature's face. It exploded with a sickening eruption of filth. Jonah stepped back his armour almost hidden under the filth
"It’s going to take hours to smell out of my armour!"
Tristan’s laugh echoed throughout the building, a peculiarly human sound in this place of death.



Tristan’s laugh died away, echoing faintly in the now still chamber, the hunt and fight had been good but a sense of unease filled him. Reaching out mentally he could feel the same sensation among his brothers. The psychic training for the Grey knights was long and hard, unforgiving and painful, but gave them advantages that no other soldier for the Imperium had, be they imperial guard or marine. Over countless battles Tristan had learned to trust his abilities and now as they sense of unease grew he knew something was wrong. The slain creature had started to decompose at an unnatural rate, it’s dark master, The Lord of decay quickly reclaiming his own. Already the flesh was pooling away, its unnatural bone structure showing grey white through the dull putrefying flesh. A construct of muscle and sinew held together by the daemons force of will. The chamber was nearly silent now, too deep within the fungal bowels of the building to hear the battle ranging above. Water dripped steadily from a pipe somewhere, echoing in the semi darkness. As if they knew they were no longer needing the shafts of light from the ceiling had faded, high above in the outside world the sun was obscured, by smoke or cloud it was impossible to tell. A low buzzing sound began to build in the gloom; larvae carried on and within the creature had hatched rapidly to feed on their former host. Tristan’s unease grew, a hard to place feeling, almost a tingle in his gauntleted fingers, he flexed and stretched them as if getting rid of a cramp. The buzzing sound was growing stronger, as if with the same thought Jonah and Tristan looked at the corpse; the flies around it were numerous but not enough to generate the sound. Tristan signalled with a swift hand movement for Jonah and another brother to check the door they had entered by. Jonah peered into the gloom all seemed quiet, the optics of his power armour enhancing his vision in the darkness. A dark putrefying liquid sloshed against Jonah’s boot, the corridor beyond seemed wet the floor and walls running with water. Water running along the walls? That was impossible, Jonah shook his head and looked again. By now the liquid around his boots was flowing steadily, the walls, floor and ceiling were flowing but not with liquid but a living crawling mass of tiny creatures, now as it neared tiny arms and weeping eyes could be seen, flies and larvae were filling the corridor, nurglings!
“We’ve got company” Jonah called his voice calm
“How many?” Tristan answered already moving toward the door, squad now alerted of the danger moving into combat positions.
“Lots”, Jonah backed away from the door working hard to stay on his feet in the running stream of filth.
Tristan moved to the doorway with fluid grace moving his squad into position to deal with this new threat
“Jonah, find us a way out, brother Maye to me”
Brother Maye carried the squad’s incinerator, a weapon ideally suited to dealing with these creatures. The brother ran to the door slipping on the slime and almost skidding to the floor, Tristan’s gauntleted hand reached out and grabbed him. Brother Maye was a skilled fighter but had the knack of being clumsy at the wrong moment.
The incinerator lit the corridor with promethium-fuelled fire, the light almost blinding in sudden contrast to the gloom. A sickening roasting popping sound filled the air as the front of the wave of nurglings burnt and exploded, the brief screams of the dying creatures almost drowned in the hiss of boiling and evaporating fluids. Maye kept the trigger depressed steadily hosing down walls, floor and ceiling. The wave slowed but was not halted; the incinerator would buy them time, not win this fight.
Tristan thought quickly, they needed something to slow this horde of creatures down long enough for the squad to make its escape. Nurglings weren’t very dangerous in small groups but this many would overwhelm and devour the squad in seconds. He reached out and unclipped an ammo cylinder for the incinerator from Maye’s belt. The incinerator armed Brother was still filling the corridor with fire, he acknowledged Tristan’s actions but had fought with him enough to know he did nothing unnecessary.
“Jonah have you worked a way out of this place yet? We are about to get evicted from this party”
Jonah had been scouting ahead seeking a way through the twisted corridors and bomb damaged rooms so that when the squad fell back the escape route would be clear. A wrong turn or a dead end would be lethal with the gibbering horde behind them.
“A have an exit route but it’s going to be close”
“Don’t worry I have a plan”, grinned Tristan.
“Okay, on my mark prepare to fall back, Jonah take point you know your route and the cannon should help clear anything unexpected”
The floor was now slick with filth, the stench of roasting nurglings almost overpowering, Brother Maye pulled back from the door way and two members of the squad slammed it shut. It would not hold for long, it was already starting to decay under the baleful influence of the daemons beyond it. The squad began to fall back, seconds later the door buckled and a wave of filth and nurglings swept into the room. The squad fled down the wreckage strewn corridors, the building was large and had suffered much during recent fighting, what its function was before was impossible to tell. The Nurgling horde followed like a flash flood down a dry riverbed, sweeping wreckage along with them in a gleeful chattering wave. The daemons were gaining rapidly; the marines would not make daylight if the horde weren’t slowed.
As he ran Tristan voxed the marine cruiser high in orbit above the embattled planet;
“Request Melta torpedo strike; use this signal as target point”
As he hurtled onwards Tristan put his plan into effect. Holding the promethium canister in his left hand he turned his body hurling it behind him into the air, as his body twisted his right arm came round his gauntlet storm bolter firing as he continued running forward, two uranium tipped shells struck the canister, the first ripping it apart its pressurized contents spreading rapidly to fill the corridor, the second bolt struck the spinning casing providing the spark. Time seemed to stand still for a few microseconds as the cloud of promethium expanded rapidly, then as the spark ignited the cloud of vapour became a fireball. With a disappointing dull whoosh the fireball expanded then contracted as the difference in pressure sucked air into fuel the explosion. The second detonation when it came was deafening the corridor behind filled with light of a miniature sun, the fireball hungry for oxygen sucked in greedily and those Nurglings, which escaped the initial blast, were dragged back into the inferno. The Grey knight squad scorched and blackened stumbled from the doorway into the dull afternoon light. They kept moving knowing that not all the horde would have died in the inferno and a final judgement upon the cursed building was on its way. From high in orbit the Melta torpedo streaked down like an angel falling from heaven to bring gods wrath on the dammed. The explosion was stunning, and in a second the building was turned into a molten pool of wreckage. Slowly the marine rose from the wreckage around them, their silver and gold armour covered in slime, and debris. Tristan slowly rose to his feet, his armour blackened, the purity seals gently smouldering, his tabard a dirty rag. A deep laugh came from the huge form of one of the marines, Jonah alive and even dirtier.
“Looks like my Brother will also be cleaning his armour this evening”
Tristan looked at his once proud armour and frowned, then looked up and saw all his squad lived and grinned.

hardrainfalling
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Re: grey knight short story

Post by Klomster on Fri May 27, 2011 5:53 am

Good, i like it.

It's not a writing masterpiece but i like it.

Only thing i think you should change is "From high in orbit the Melta torpedo streaked down like an angel falling from heaven to bring gods wrath on the dammed."

Change it to the emperors wrath, sounds better beeing 40k and all.

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Re: grey knight short story

Post by hardrainfalling on Fri May 27, 2011 5:56 am

thx written some time ago now but i havent written anything for a while

hardrainfalling
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Re: grey knight short story

Post by Klomster on Fri May 27, 2011 8:45 am

Likewise for me.

I'll link to some of my work on this site.

http://greyknights.forumotion.com/t1529-klomster-writes-a-small-book-the-inferna-war
Best thing i've done ever, totally stopped all activity i have in my life, i'm in some sort of super depression.

No energy for anything, totally sucks.

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Re: grey knight short story

Post by purifier_26 on Tue Jun 07, 2011 3:43 pm

Awesome story I really liked it.

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Re: grey knight short story

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