then await no more for at least a couple of stories (going to dinner - ice cream)
a holy mans wrath/work
Hagen stared into the stained glass that lie broken at his feet. On it was a pictured sigmar holding gal-maraz high in victory. Pitiful he thought, the citizens of the empire that had lived in this broken and battered town had turned to chaos, which was why Hagen and his army had been sent here, that was why they had to cleanse the town of taint. He ordered one of his staff to collect the shards of the glass while he hefted his great hammer. He reviewed his battle line. His swordsmen stood beside him. On their flanks were the bands of warriors who had joined his cause out of faith and devotion to almighty sigmar. On their flanks were the two squadrons of the knights of the great hammer. An order he had founded himself to combat chaos and disorder. Behind the main line crossbowmen were loading their bolts into their crossbows. Behind them was what every man in the army called “sigmar’s thunder”, a great battery of cannons, mortars, and Hellblaster volley guns.
Hagen could see the enemy now, ragtag bands of tribesmen and some cavalrymen on what seemed to be draught horses. Hagen could see the chief of the tribesmen, a black armored brute of a man who looked like he could take the charge of a band of knights and stand. He immediately roused the men about him that they were to bravely engage this chieftain and his bodyguard of armored warriors. Once he deemed the enemy was close enough he pointed toward the chaos worshippers his ornately forged battle hammer. Immediately the sky turned black as a volley of crossbow bolts soared over head, only to land moments later within the enemy ranks. Screams of anguish and of the dying could be heard by the army of blessed sigmar. Hagen once again raised his hammer and sigmars thunder roared into life. Hagen saw men fly into the air at the impact of the shells, while screams of agony were heard from those that flames had seared. He saw one of the mobs of the tribesmen flee after a cannonball blasted into the center. As the cannon fire stopped Hagen once again raised his hammer to the enemy and gave the order to charge. The enemy desperately tried to put up a shield wall but the fanatics of sigmar were to fast. Lance rent flesh, sword clove shield and limb, and hammer slammed into face. The enemy parted at the sight of the arch lector, revealing the chief of the tribe. Hagen knew this was a challenge and stepped forward like a true warrior.
The chieftain was much larger than Hagen had guessed he would be. He rose above the clergyman like a monument at the roadside. But in that fateful moment did Hagen despair, did he lose all hope in winning this battle and battles to come? He did not, for with his blessed hammer did he strike thrice upon his enemy. As the first blow fell the left arm of the chieftain was torn from the shoulders by of the blessed hammer, the second stroke took his opponent to one knee, and with the third and final strike did the head of the chieftain fly into the distance, decapitated body falling to the ground, lifeless. A great cheer of triumph arose from the soldiers of the clergy as they hewed the foul, disheartened enemy. And with their chieftain dead, the scum of chaos broke and fled past their burnt and broken huts, relentlessly pursued by the knights of sigmar throughout the night.
After the great victory, the army made camp on the edge of the village. When the knights returned from the hunt the warrior priest zarik came to Hagen’s tent and reported what had occurred during their absence. “We pursued the vile scum of the dark gods for many leagues and were successful in killing all of the traitors and then cremating them as is our holy way. We then were searching the town for any survivors when we came upon three men who apparently had stolen into a hidden vault underground when their brethren had started to create the vile pacts that bonded them with the ruinous powers. They have agreed to join us.” Said the warrior priest as he entered and sat down. “Bring them to me and let me divine whether they are pure in their faith and devotion before they spread throughout the ranks.” Said the holy priest in response. Zarik rose and walked out of the tent obeying the words of his holy commander.
When all of the men were presented to Hagen outside of his tent He bade them all sit down before him upon the mats which had been ritually washed in water from a temple of sigmar and set before them. Each in turn came forward to be divined worthy enough to join the army or to be denounced as heretics to the emperor and vile worshippers of chaos. All three he deemed unworthy as he saw deep into their minds the abominations of the imagination that chaos spreads. “I sentence you to death by execution by the power vested in me by the holy church of sigmar and the emperor of these lands. May sigmar bless your souls and let you repent in death for your sins.” said the great priest. At his most holy and powerful command three knights of sigmar dismounted and lifted the terrified men up on their feet while three more drew their ornate broadswords from black sheaths, a grim demeanor. The expressions on the knights were heavy but they knew what was to be done. At the order all three of the tribesmen were decapitated. “Quickly! Take their bodies away and burn them!” said the lector. As the grim knights bore the bodies away Haden thought how many more citizens would turn to the corrupting influence of the dark gods. How many more hidden cults and sects to them would spring up in the great cities? It disgusted him to think of it, and yet he knew that throughout his life he would have to face these threats to order with prayer and cold steel.
cage
Cage lifted his long las into place, clearing the scope with a piece of his shirt. He had done this many times throughout the day, slight movements after repositioning himself throughout the ruins. Before every mission he would set his aids to work gathering maps, data and reports about the location, so far it had proved successful. He now wore around his neck the imperial dog tags of over fifty imperial officers. Back at his base was a well concealed cache of weapons, armour, and specialized equipment, along with all the necessary rounds taken from his kills. As he looked through the scope he saw a sentry smoking a lho-stick. He pulled the trigger back on his weapon and saw the guardsman’s head explode in a bright red haze. Another guardsman had ran up to see what had happened, but it was to late, cage had already reloaded and in the blink of an eye the guardsman fell, clutching a fist sized wound emanating from his chest more and more screamed as they were killed by the snipers perfect control on his gun. As the junior officer in command of the outpost fell cage knew there were none left. He immediately leapt from his hiding spot and jogged over to his kills his cameoline instantly changing to make him near impossible to see as it swirled behind him. The grey chimera followed its crew packing up the camo-netting, while fellow rebels jumped from the rear hatch, racing to help cage loot the dead. As cage hopped down into the trench he immediately ripped the dog tags from around the junior officer’s neck as well as his watch. He then dug through the mans pockets and found a holo-slate which he stored in his satchel. When his troopers had reached them he said “two of you follow me, the rest, take their armour and anything else you think we can use and load it onto the chimera, then wait for our return.” As cage said this they all made silent indications that they understood. With that settled cage turned and headed towards the bunkers control building. When he was inside he and his two men gathered up the holo-slates and pieces of information that were there and ran to the chimera. Once inside cage lifted the vox to his mouth and said “mortar team one fire in t-minus two minutes, tear that lifeless ball of junk to shreds.” A reply immediately answered his command “yes sir.” As the chimera rolled away from the killing spot and as cage saw the mortar shells light the bunker up, turning it intro an inferno cage thought silently to himself “make that fifty-one.” |