Ties that bind

[wolfpack]

well here's a start to something...tell me what you think...

Prologue

There was a brilliant flash and a loud explosion that threw him into the air. He rose from the ground trying to keep the beast under control. Another blast near him threw him to one side as a bolt round passed through his upper leg. He could sense he was falling to his left, he felt his body reacting to the wound, but there was no assurance it would be enough. Most of his armors systems were failing quickly and he wasn’t even aware that he had been struck several more times, trying to focus on keeping his internal daemon at bay. He lay there for what seemed an eternity, the beast within fighting to stay alive, he could feel its rage at the nearness of death, its pain was his own, and he drew strength from its presence. He heard the sounds of battle around him, and then suddenly it went quiet. He winced in pain from the wounds scattered across his body any one enough to have killed a normal man many times over, the cause of his suffering. Darkness closed about his mind as the pain became excruciating, still he fought to stay focused.
He had to maintain control, for in the boundaries he set upon it, he would draw from the barbaric thing as needed, use its savagery and bloodlust to do the Emperor’s bidding, and help to save Humanity. He would continue to draw upon its presence and strength. He was sure it would again save his life, and that knowledge somehow comforted him. He had wrestled with it many times, as each of his Battle Brothers had surely done in their own ways, and yet it had saved his life many times over, when he had allowed himself to relax his guard just enough. He was also afraid of it as well, in this weakened state, if he could not keep it under control while drawing upon it, then it would escape and the curse would overcome him. The thought of becoming a mindless, slavering beast bent on bloodshed and savagery was not something he relished the idea of.
He felt himself being lifted, heard what seemed to be distant voices, He could hear them there, as if the auditory receptors in his helmet were off, or the time that his brother Argus had stuffed his head in a bucket of whale fat. He felt them carry him across the battlefield, jostled upon the stretcher. Even with his heightened senses he could barely make out the commotion about him, as he was placed on a hard surface. Then the feeling of weightlessness, floating, was he dying? Then came the heaviness of being in his body again and being lifted and carried elsewhere. He was placed on another hard surface, and could hear chants and Auguries being performed. He knew he lay on the priest’s table and the healers worked to save him. He would live, the priests would make sure of that, whether he would be whole again was yet to be seen but, he would live!
As his mind swam back and forth between the abyss of unconsciousness and insanity of reality, the pain a reminder of life in this time, the memories of his life flooded back. The loss of his father and friends, the life he new before the chapter, brought sorrow to his heart. All the wonders he had seen, all the worlds he had visited and waged war upon, his new friends, his brothers and the feelings of becoming a part of something greater than himself, these he would use to keep fighting, to maintain his place in the here and now. He was not ready to die just yet, there was much still to do.
He would not let go, could not…He was a Son of Russ and there were promises to be kept and oaths to be fulfilled! He was a Space Marine, the God Emperors chosen, no mere man…at least not any more.

[wolfpack]

The end of the beginning

Aergen cast the long barbed harpoon with all the strength he could muster. He watched as the great barb struck home and then he went blind…a gust of wind wrapping his long red hair about his face…he cursed as he heard the laughter rise from the crew. He tried to stay upright as he fought his own mane and get it under control, his footing was unsteady at best, the deck of his father’s ship ran wet and slick with entrails, blood and sea water as they prepared to haul their fifth catch up in as many days. They had been hunting the 10 meter long Gnarwhales for nearly a standard week. The giant single horned, ocean going beast was one of the many staples that kept his village going through the long Fenrisian winters.
“Well done lad!” His father bellowed, with laughter in his voice, above the rush of waves and the sounds of the open sea. “You’ll surpass even my count, by Russ!” He stood at the wheel of his great ship, fighting it over as he counter steered the ‘Jarl’s Hammer’ into the waves.
Aergen’s Father was a large, burly man just under two meters tall with long flaming red hair and arms that could crack a mans ribs. Jarl not only held the name of his father and his forefathers before him but held the title as well. The master of his village was well liked in his community and his crew was counted amongst his closest friends and comrades. Even though many had their own ships and crews, they relished the chance to go out with the old man they considered friend. He was near fifty seasons and considered by most the best sailor among them, an opinion he did little to dissuade or change. As his father’s son, Aergen was not far behind, at twenty seasons, he was as strong and proud as any Fenrisian warrior, being only slightly shorter than his Dah…his term of endearment for the old man. He had yet to kill his first Kraken, but matched his father’s skill against just about everything else this world offered up to test his own. He well knew all aboard having grown up around each and everyone, and shared their respect and friendship. He could sense their fears, and he did his best to add to that relief, a quick joke or comment at the blushing expense of one of his fellow crewman.
Aergen turned and smiled, getting his hair back and tied with a long leather thong from his belt. “Aye Dah, and with any luck and a few more casts, it’ll be this trip out!” he yelled back puffing out his chest in a mock display of bravado, which brought a reverberant laughter from the rest of the crew. Aergen continued smiling as he winked at his father and received a nod for his display. Jarl knew his son’s sense of humor as it was his own, boisterous and loud, and always seeking to make others feel at ease.
The sea was getting rough and although his ship could stand up to the pounding, he had never seen the water like this. His crew were all well seasoned men and they too could tell that something was wrong. The sea was not acting natural, as if some unknown force was at work. A large wave broke over the bow of the great long ship, as Jarl fought to keep her steady. The crew had finished clearing the last catch off the deck and into the great hold of the forty meter long vessel; several men were sloughing the entrails and blood into the dark waters trying to make the footing a bit easier as a second great wave broke over the bow. Jarl watched in terror as two of his crew were washed aside into the great black sea. Aergen jumped to aid the man closest to him and saw the look on his father’s face. He turned in time to see a shadow beneath the wave, and his gut rose into his throat.
“KRAKEN!”

Everything seemed to go into slow motion at that point, men ran in all directions grabbing up spears and harpoons. His father spun the wheel around to keep the bow in line with the great beast. He knew that if the beast got along side the ship, it would grapple it in those great tentacles, each one near as long as the ship and she would be rolled off her keel as the remaining crewmen were flung into the water. He slid across the deck towards the large rack of harpoons set near the foremast. Aergen remembered what had to be done as he had watched his father take two of the great beasts, this would be his time. He grabbed two of the long barbed weapons and tossed a third to one of his mates standing next to the prow. He grabbed another crewman by the collar and hauled him up…
“Follow me and cast when I do!” as he thrust the second harpoon into the man’s hands. As they reached the long boards of the prow, where part of the ships deck jutted out over the water, Aergen grabbed hold of the ropes and thrust his right foot through them where they met at several odd angles, each of the other two men doing the same, in an attempt to anchor themselves for the throw that would be required of them to bring the beast down.
“Hard over Port Dah, she’s comin up!” He yelled as he wrapped his legs into the fore rigging, standing at the prow. “Around port! She’s gonna break water just over us…” He yelled out to his father, as the long ship began to rise into an oncoming wave. He continued to yell to his father, trying to keep the beast to the front of the ship. His father watching and listening as his son kept him on top of the tentacled monstrosity. Jarl thought to himself, ‘he does well, I am proud of this man, my son’ and at that the great monster broke surface.
Aergen and the others cast the three and a half meter harpoons, they bore at the ready, into the black-green flesh that rose out of the water before them. All three struck solid as a second group of harpoons were loosed from another trio of men just behind. As the second volley found their mark, a thunderous roar went out from the gargantuan creature. Jarl began yelling orders to the men, “Wait for it to break clear! Orun, get that line secured! Aegen, ready another cast but wait for my signal!” Men moved in unison. The two groups of men readied another cast, the front three being the only ones to throw this time around, they knew what would happen next and so they waited, ready for the beast to bring up its head.
It had spent two days tracking the smell and another circling, trying to decide where it would attack from. If it came up underneath there was no guarantee it could grab this giant floating meal and drag it down. As it circled its prey, the thing kept moving to meet it, so in frustration it had lunged up and out. As it rose out of the waters, several stinging things struck its hide causing searing pain, and with each movement it was reminded of that pain. Perhaps it could come down from above and bring it into the depths, where feeding would be easier. The scent of blood was strong upon its prey and it lusted after the taste. The Creature came further up out of the water as if to crash down upon the vessel causing it torment, not so easy a prey as it had thought, now it would crush it and gut it and feast upon the living things that moved along its surface. It brought one of its great eyes clear of the water to get a better look…

“NOW!” Jarl screamed, and three harpoons were cast at the great beast, two landing where they were meant to, burying themselves deep into the great black orb.
The Beast rolled in agony, and spun as pain shot into its brain. The tiny things had hurt it, killed it, and it began to writhe and flail in its death agony.
Jarl spun the wheel, trying to get the vessel clear of the leviathan as it began to thrash with its thirty meter long tentacles. Knowing full well that one or two would come crashing down on his vessel and cost men their lives. He spun the wheel to Starboard just as two of the great tentacles came crashing down and the foremast snapped, impaling the smaller of the two. The larger hit the deck just behind Aergen and his group, when a third shot up out of the water and down across the deck where it began to flail across the vessel, back and forth along her surface snapping the main mast and knocking men off their feet and into the black, cold water. A sinking feeling rose up in Jarl as he watched half his crew forced over board into the cold depths, many of their bodies broken before they even hit the black foamy surface. Large gouts of ocean spray were flung upon the deck as the creature his son had just slew continued in its death throws. Larger than either of his kills, this was surely going to be the end of his vessel.
Another huge tentacle landed upon the vessel amid ship and a loud crack was heard, she began to break in half as Aergen fought hard to maintain his hold on the deck and help those he could. He turned to see his father’s face and a great sense of dread filled him. Aergen glanced around again and his father was gone, the great ship shuddered as a fourth tentacle landed down across her deck hard, just in front of the wheel housing and the entire aft section disappeared. ‘Jarl’s Hammer’ was lost, he felt pain through out his entire body, excruciating, heard a loud roar from above, then slipped into cold darkness…

[wolfpack]

Second Chances

The Thunderhawk hovered roughly two hundred meters above the site, they had hunted their prey for many weeks shadowing the vessel below for the past five days and watching as the fools continued to bait the waters they had tread. This was no mere hunting trip, this was an attempt to find and secure the hulk of a specimen to be studied against the Xeno records held in the Fang. Many speculated that these were remnants of Hive Fleet Kraken that had been pushed out of the sector ages ago…but to be sure no one had undertaken the effort to find out. Wolf Priest Jarl Bloodmane had made it his personal crusade to find out. He had made inquiries to the Great Wolf himself and had been granted a squad of Hunters and permission to enlist the men of the Iron Aisle to accomplish his task. The Great Wolf had much respect for the Wolf Priest and his almost three hundreds years of unswerving loyalty to the chapter and one of his most trusted advisors. As such he would grant this small boon knowing that there was a rational reason for the request.
“Life signs failing Lord,” the sensor man reported, as the Priest came closer to check the sensor readings for him self. “It appears they have done our job for us.”
“We will hold station here for a bit longer just to be sure,” the old man replied as he watched the screen with interest. “What is that reading there?”
The Hunter made a few minor adjustments to the controls and a solid signal appeared as a blip on his monitor. “It would appear that there is a survivor Lord, although there is life in him, I can not determine how strong it is.”
The Wolf Priest looked at the readings and went over to the comms station, “request that the chase vessels check the area and pick him and any others up.”
The sensor man looked at the old priest and said flatly, “Lord there are no others.” He glanced again at his readings, “The Kraken took them down with it.”
“How large is the specimen?” asked the Priest.
“According to these readings, Lord…over 60 meters from tip to tip sir.”
“Can we grapple it and hoist it up?”
“Yes Lord, but it will require a shallow dive before the beast sinks to the depths.”
“Then do it and quickly before we lose it.” The priest was anxious to bring his quarry back and begin his investigation in earnest.
“Yes Sir.” Came the reply and the Thunderhawk began a pressurization check before diving into the cold blackness.
“Sir we have confirmation from the lead chase vessel they have brought the survivor aboard,” stated the comms officer, ”and sir? They say he will need immediate attention if he is to survive.”
“Very well,” replied the Priest, “fire grapples when we have range and prepare to ascend. As soon as we have it hooked take us up to level station and I will move to the chase group.”
“Aye my Lord.” Came the response from the entire crew. Ten minutes later, the Thunderhawk broke the surface of the water with the beast secured to its cargo grapplers. The giant transport hovered momentarily while the old wolf transferred to the lead chase vessel to inspect their charge. It would be worth seeing one who had killed a Kraken; maybe just maybe a recruit would be had…if he survived.
The wounds were grievous at best, most of his body was broken and he was bleeding from his nose, ears and mouth, Something in the back of the old priests mind nagged at him, this boy reminded him of someone, he couldn’t place his finger on it but he knew he had to save this one and bring him back to the Fang. He began to heal what he could, assured that his skills would prevail.
He pulled his Auspex from his belt and scanned the man lying before him. The legs, right arm, ribs, and nose would mend fine on their own, after they had been set of course, and even the concussion would heal. The internal injuries were of another story and he couldn’t be sure of the extent. The lad was breathing on his own but it was shallow. There was no sounds in his chest that would indicate his lungs were damaged, but there was still the matter of the blood from his mouth. A further scan showed a tear in his Liver that was serious enough and a minor invasive surgery corrected that problem, as well as the damage to his right kidney. The blood from his mouth was simply a matter of his lungs being bruised and the fact that he had bitten his cheek during his ordeal. The boy had apparently been struck hard by something and thrown about. He would be sore but he would survive till he got him back to the Fang and finished the repairs. The bones of his left arm were shattered below the elbow, and that would have to be dealt with later, but the hand was fine. The long trek back to the Iron Aisles would grant plenty of time for the lad to heal enough to be transported back to the Fang, the fortress of the chapter held everything else the Wolf Priest would need to finish the healing processes. He looked over the young man lying before him, the long red hair that was haphazardly tied behind his head, the features of his face; they reminded him of someone long since buried in his memories.
“Lord, we will be in port in two and a half weeks as long as weather permits.”
“Very well,” He replied to the big man standing in the doorway of the cabin.” I will be on deck for a bit, keep a watchful eye on him and report to me if he stirs.”
“Yes my Lord.” The big man said, “Lord? Is there something that troubles you?”
The big man was one of the few men that had had many dealings with the Wolves over the years. He knew this one very well and seemed to sense a disturbance in him…
“No Junger, not anything I can put my finger on, just something familiar about this one.” He said motioning to the young man lying on the cot between them.
“I will do as you command, my Lord.” The big man stated again and watched as the old Wolf Priest exited the cabin and made his way to the top deck. The ships of the Iron Aisles differed from the rest of the great ships of the Fenrisians, being made mostly of metal where as the standard long ships were made of primarily wood. They used crude steam motors instead of sails as their primary mode of propulsion, and there were usually two to three decks.
The old Wolf made his way onto the main deck and stared out over the vast ocean, searching his memories for some clue to the mystery that nagged at him. What was the bond he felt with this boy and why did it bother him so? He had left the old ways and joined the chapter many ages ago, so many that his memories of the old ways were all but a passing blur. Still there was a connection, he felt it in his bones, and he resigned himself to the fact that he would have plenty of time to find out. If the boy could pass the tests and become a battle brother, there would be all the time he needed to figure it out. There was much he needed to know about the young man before he could begin the tests. As soon as the chance arose, he would question him.
Aergen healed well enough over the next several days, eventually sitting up with a wince as his body was still healing from the damage it had sustained. The only contact he had with the crew of the strange vessel was the big man he came to know as Junger. Although at times he sensed the presence of another while he rested, he simply brushed it off as a dream and when he awoke there was the big man watching him, making sure he had what ever he needed to be comfortable. He watched the man and after a couple of days realized that he was indeed alive and being cared after and began to relax his guard a bit. On the twelfth day he decided that he was in good company and looking at the big man sitting across the room from him asked, “Where am I? What type of vessel is this?”
Junger looked up a bit startled, “You are on the vessel Clang’s Grip; she is a fishing vessel of my clan. We fished you out of the waters near death, after you fought off the Kraken.”
“What happened to the rest of my crew?...My father?...My friends?”
Junger looked at him sadly, “Lad, you were the only one alive; the Kraken smashed your vessel and drug it down as we came upon the scene.”
Aergen was crushed, he slunk back into the cot as tears filled his eyes, “What happens now?” he murmured as the big man got up and moved his chair closer.
“We are headed for the Iron Aisles, back to our home port. There is one aboard who saved you and it appears he has some task for you once you are healed. He is a Chooser and it was he who saved your life.”
Aergen looked startled, “A Chooser? Here?” Fear suddenly welled up in him as the old stories he had heard as a youngster came flooding back into his mind.
The Choosers, those god-like beings that took the bravest dying men and led them away to fight next to the Russ, why was he being taken as one? Surely not because of the Kraken he fought, many had done that before him and had brought back trophies. Junger had said he was near death when they found him. Did this mean he was among those counted as dead to the rest of his world? What would become of his family? His mind began to race at the prospects of what was to come. Was this to be some kind of second chance?

[wolfpack]

Life and Limb

He woke, his eyes shooting open only to be met by burning white. He closed them as quickly as they had opened and heard the gruff voice of Wolf Sergeant Raznig, “Well lad…at least you are still counted among the living,” he almost laughed the comment.
He opened his eyes slowly, very slowly, allowing them time to adjust to the harsh overhead lighting in the Medicia…
“How long?” He could barely talk, his throat dry, his voice cracking a bit from the exertion. No answer came from the veteran warrior. He made a mental note of the discomfort in his chest and left leg.
“What Happened? Did we drive them back?” he asked still feeling the pain of his wounds and the headiness of the neuro narcotics pumping through his veins.
“Aye lad, no thanks to you…That temper of yours is going to get you into trouble one day…” the statement interrupted by a second voice
“And I won’t always be there to pull yer arse outa the fire! Good thing those bastards couldn shoot straight!” Came the mirthful remark from Bronte.
Bronte was his squad mate; they had made the journey through the wolf camps, the rituals, initiations, the test of Morkai and finally into their Claw together as full members of the chapter. A few years younger, he stood as tall as Aergen but was thinner, almost spindly, which only aided in hiding the fact that he was one of the best warriors Aergen knew. On the battle field he was graceful, quick and deadly and had a greater degree of control over his inner beast. Aergen wouldn’t admit it but he envied his battle brother, he would be chosen soon to the ranks of the Hunters. He was a jovial sort as was Aergen, but had a sarcastic side when it came to his friend’s behavior. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes always, and he was not beyond a parody of the Wolf Sergeant after a few drafts of Fenrisian ale. He had gone so far once as to try it in front of the sergeant, which had won him a week of scrubbing the insides of the thruster manifolds on several Thunderhawks.
“The laughter and commotion was well worth it,” he would say later.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons he was glad to see him standing now, at the foot of the bed he lay in.
“The priests said you‘re lucky, another blast and you‘lda been a big wet squishy thing, and if we hadn’t gotten you back here when we did, they woulda had to take your seed.” Bront looked at him ever so stoically. Even through the drugs, he could make out the scent of passing fear and assurance of relief, surely his injuries were not as bad as all that.
“Aye lad,” nodded the Sergeant…”and I woulda had to use yer sorry arse as an example of whot not to do when Arty comes poundin in around yer ears!” then his tone changed ever so slightly, “ We will of course discuss that later.”
“Of course you know, your armor is totally worthless? There are more holes in it than a heretic at a firing squad.” Bronte said mockingly, shaking his head side to side.
At that, a form moved through the doorway and he saw the old man standing there. He was clad in his black power armor except for his head. The Rosarius and wolves teeth strung from a silver chain hanging about his neck and from his shoulder gaurds, rattling as he moved towards the bed. The large grey hide of a Fenrisian wolf hung across his shoulders and down his back, billowing out behind him as he strode forward. The inside was lined in a black shiny material which only made the black of his armor darker.
“Well lad, you’ll be out of it for a few days more, and since we are now on patrol status, you are confined here till I say so. We are still two standard week out from Fenris.” The old Wolf Priest made it a point to emphasize the last part of his statement.
The priest smiled; at least that’s what Aergen thought, the old wolf’s fangs marring the expression, “It is good to see you awake finally.”
Aergen looked into the eyes of his mentor, “Father Bloodmane. How long was I out?”
The old Wolf looked him over and ran an Auspex across his chest and leg, ignoring the question and holding up his hand in a gesture of silence. There was a very serious look on his face as he checked the bandages and readouts on the bio scanners. As he turned to leave, he murmered just loud enough to hear, “twelve solar days.”
Aergen was taken aback; he had lain in the ships Medicia for nearly two weeks! He made a mental check of all his parts, and everything seemed to be there. He could feel the cold chill of the metal in his left arm, and his senses told him that his left leg was still there. He glanced down the length of his body to be sure, and it was. The bandage ran from mid-thigh to just above his knee, and there was another wrapped around his upper abdomen and chest, covering the later completely. The narcs were doing their job and he was trained to ignore his pain and let his body deal with the damage but it was apparent from the slight uncomfortable sensation, that there was extensive damage done to it.
“Well maybe I need to get the piss blown outa me so I can get a few days rest!” Roared Bronte, with laughter.
“You try it and I’ll crack yer skull myself, pup!” the sergeant retorted, “and I’ll have ya scrubbing the tail end of a Thunderhawk again.” He noted the evil looking grin on the old warriors face as he said it. Raznig rose and placed his hand on Bronte’s shoulder, “now let’s get outa here and let the lad rest…” he turned and nodded with a slight wink as he walked Bronte through the doorway, the door closing behind them with a loud ‘swish’ and Aergen was alone once more, he lay there and finally let sleep take him again.
Over the next three days, Bronte and Sergeant Raznig visited a few times. He asked questions about how the battle had gone after he had been caught in the shelling of the heretic’s artillery. Each time he was rewarded with one of Brontes whimsical recounts of his own prowess and how they had found him while counter-charging the enemy lines as the tainted scum had started to climb out of their own trenches and advance towards the Wolf lines. Bronte and Grebe, another pack brother, had almost fallen over Aergens inert form lying sprawled between two great craters…Grebe being the one who tripped over his left arm, still clutching a chain sword. Aergan was sure that Bronte was exaggerating this part a bit just to get a reaction from him. As the rest of the squad moved around to give cover fire and assistance, they managed to get him onto a rhino and then to the rear where they were medivacing casualties back to their strike cruiser, Grendle’s Fang. The remainder of the company had succeeded in pushing the chaos worshiping scum back through their own lines, the troops being nothing more than remnants of the local PDF force and after taking control of the trenches, laid down a containment fire as Imperial artillery and bombs rained down on the retreating traitors and the city. They had not moved their armor up to support them, instead choosing to hide it through out the city and use it at range, which was a costly mistake. After that it was a simple matter of going street by street, building by building and mopping up the remnants. The small city had been reduced to smoldering rubble, and the remaining civilian population was now in the hands of the Guard and under Inquisitorial eye.

[wolfpack]

Aergen shuddered at that, he knew what it meant to the people left behind, he shuddered again. He felt a bit of discomfort in his chest and leg, there was a bit of a chill in them, sure that it was nothing more than the ambient temperature in the room, still it felt odd. He would glance at the bandages and then look to his left arm.
The old Wolf had been in and out as well, constantly monitoring the bio scanners and checking his readings. He was insistent that Aergen start flexing and exercising his legs and would help him to sit up so he could check the bandages on his chest. Bronte and the sergeant had just left when he came in and informed Aergen that it was time to remove the bandages that he may return to his duties. His body was healed well enough for him to assume these, as they were still four days out from Fenris and Sergeant Raznig was quick to get him back with his pack, training.
“Why has it taken so long for me to heal, Wolf Father?” He asked
“Your wounds were as grievous to you as the ones you had on the day I found you. The damage to your leg was enough that we thought of replacing it with bionics. Instead we did as I had done with your arm; we replaced a portion of the bone with an Adomantium rod, as we did with several of your ribs.”
Aergen watched as the old wolf unwrapped his leg first. The scar started just above his knee and extended up the outside of his thigh about thirty centimeters. It was healing well and still had a hint of pink to it. Next, the bandage on his chest was removed and revealed a triangular scar over his right breast some twenty centimeters at the base, each corner ending where a burn scar shone dark brown.
“It would seem that you were hit by a trio of las shots. Lucky you have two hearts, the ribs were burnt clean through so I removed the two sections that floated around in your chest and replaced them with molded Adomantium replicas. The bone has already begun to re-grow over them, but at the time I was unsure it would regenerate.”
“That explains the sensations I’ve been having, the chills in my wounds.” Aergen had suspected and so what Father Jarl had told him came as no surprise. He felt a bit wobbly at first, having been bedridden for almost three weeks, but found his ‘sea legs’ quickly. There was a bit of stiffness but nothing that a good turn in the training hall wouldn’t cure.
“These will see you back to your quarters. Be sure to stop at the armory on your way and check on your new armor. I was told it would be ready shortly.” The priest handed him a pair of loose fitting trousers and a tunic much like the one he had worn before he had become a Wolf.
“Yes Lord.” He dressed as quickly as his discomfort would allow, “Father Bloodmane, I swear I will be more careful of my life from now on.”
“It’s not your life you should worry over Aergen, that is in the Emperors hands, but you will make a very poor Wolf if you continue tearing up your limbs.”
Aergen walked out of the Med bay and down the long hall towards the crew’s quarters...

[wolfpack]

The Beast Within
The trials had been hard, harder for him as there was still some reluctance. He had come here not of his own will, but it was never like that…or so he had been told. A late comer, he had been rushed through some of the different initiations and spent his days trying to catch up with those who had been in this particular camp for a while. He tried to remember back to the final days aboard the strange metal vessel…before he had been brought to the fang…before he had seen the inside of the wolf camp. His vision swam in and out as the final test was being administered…as his thoughts began to wander…He set the cup down on the pedestal…

There was still some reservations about this strange messenger of the gods, this chooser, as his people had called them for ages untold. He remembered all the old stories he had been told, and recalled that in them were several mentions of the Choosers visiting his own clan, shortly after battle. When the Sons of the Axe had attacked the village many winters past, the chooser had come and taken eight men after the battle was won. They lay near death and yet, had been healed and then whisked away on some great metal bird.
“Well lad, it would seem you have some questions, as do I. My Name is Jarl Bloodmane and I am a Wolf Priest, a servant of the Russ. And you are?”
“Aergen, my name is Aergen.” He replied with a bit of reluctance in his voice.
From that moment, the Wolf Priest began questioning him…”Who is your clan?” “From where do you hail?” many more he could not or simply refused to answer. He felt the ancient god servant was being a bit personal when he started asking question about his immediate family and their history. He feigned ignorance, shrugging his shoulders, only to be met by a cold stare which seemed to probe into his mind.
“You will learn to trust me lad. There is much I am going to teach you and perhaps some things you will be able to teach me as well.”
“I teach you? How is it you think that the son of a Jarl can teach one of the choosers of the servants of Russ?” Aergen was becoming a little agitated, there was still a bit of pain and of course there was little the ancient one had done to heal his misshapen arm.
“These things you will discover or more to the point remember, in time.” retorted the old Priest.
They landed at the Iron Aisles and Aergen was amazed, he was dumbfound, there were no words he could think of to explain what he saw in the short time they would be there. Large square buildings, some two and three floors tall made of sheets of metal and constructed to look like pallisaded walls. The great Iron Gate they passed through as they entered the ‘city’ as he had been informed of it. Every where around him he heard the sounds of hammers crashing on forges, and the tumultuous din of a thousand voices. This village was ten fold the size of his own, with a cloud of thick smoke and the stench of burnt metals hanging in the air, he yearned for the fresh air and openness of the sea again. He followed closely behind the Wolf Priest to a large multi level building with great masts branching up from its roof. There were several round metal disks, like giant dragon shields, hung at various heights from the masts…
“Wait here.” He was told and the ancient one entered the building.


He woke in the snow, he wasn’t sure where he was but the light was nearly blinding…he put his hand to his brow to help shade his eyes from the glare, that hit his eyes like a thousand needles. He blinked and squinted and found that his vision was a bit better, stronger even, than it had been. In the distance he could just make out the shadows of a large stand of Iron wood and Shag Bark trees, great hardwood firs that stood a hundred feet tall. He guessed that he was ten or twelve kilometers away and began to walk, it was already late in the morning and he was feeling the first pangs of hunger. He wore the simple grey jumper he had worn for the past five months, a small silver dagger hanging from his hip and a light cloak about his shoulders. He was sure the Priest had said he was to be dropped with several others yet he could see no sign of any of his previous mates, nor were there any supplies, he would have to rough it.
“You have three days to return to this place. If you do not or cannot, then you will be lost forever.” The priest had told them. The wind swept across the great snowy plain right into his face as if to keep him away from the shelter of the giant trees, he wrapped the cloak about him holding the inside to keep it drawn to him. He knew from his time in the camp that he would find soft pine needles and dry wood, he needed to build a fire…it was going to be cold and dark if the clouds stayed overhead. He was getting hungry and he wanted to be off the snow plains, this was no place to be after night fell. The great wolves would be out hunting or worse, trolls were known to wander around the wilds. He ate the cold snow to try and hold off the hunger pains he was feeling but it did little to help. Something caught his eye and he looked to his right, a small movement, he couldn’t believe he had caught it, but there it was again. He moved closer and crouched down to see if he caught another glimpse, and a small Shoohare moved a few meters and stopped, its nose in the air testing the wind for signs of predators, luckily Aergen was behind it and he could smell the creature, ‘how odd’ he thought to himself. Aergen watched and waited, he managed to hunker down further and pulled the cloak over his head a bit. The small mammal half pounced half walked towards him a few more meters and his hunger took over. He threw off the cloak in a flourish and the startled animal was held in place from terror. Aergen lunged at it spread eagle, as if to trap it beneath his full outstretched form and the animal jumped straight up. Just as it reached the apex of its jump Aergen reached out and grabbed it by the hind leg, half twisting, half flipping he used his momentum to land on three of his four limbs, the hare still in his grasp. Without thinking, he bit down through the soft white fur and began to feast on the small animal, devouring it in a matter of minutes. He looked about and was a bit mortified at his actions, but the hunger in his belly subsided for a few moments and he ran back to his cloak. He managed to catch four others and after eating the first two as he had done with the previous animal, sense returned and he decided to wait until he had a fire built to cook the others.
He reached the sanctuary of the trees and moved into them a bit, his mind began to race, ‘get a fire built, find a weapon of some sort, and secure a campsite for the night.’ All things he remembered from his time in the camp, basic survival was the first steps he had to see to. After a bit of effort, he found what he was looking for, a slight depression under and between two of the great trees. He looked around and found several long straight branches, about two meters long, these he would carve tips on and then temper in a fire. He gathered dry wood from the ground and stripped long hairy lengths of bark to start his fire. There were arm fulls of pine needles that would make a warm bed for the night and protect him from the cold ground.

[wolfpack]

His camp was set; he made it on the lei side of the impression to minimize the wind hitting him and burrowed a bit into the snow to make the depression deeper yet. After getting his fire going and skinning and spitting the remaining Shoohares, Aergen began to carve the three long branches into spears, and burnt the tips in the fire to help to temper the wood. He ate quietly and looked about to keep a wary eye out for trouble. He found it rather tedious trying to stay awake and keep the fire going, and finally dozed of sometime after the moon came up. Aergen jolted upright when he heard the sudden howling coming from his right, he half turned towards the sound to try and get a better bearing on it. It was very close, but not so close as to hear anything more than the howling itself, no other sound reached his keen ears. He noticed that his hearing was becoming more acute, and that he could see a bit further in the dark. His sense of smell was becoming more acute and he could just make out the difference between the burning woods now glowing in his little hearth. He tossed a few pieces of the dried wood on the fire and it again sparked to life…he had to watch that it didn’t get too big. He heard a rustle to his left and could make out the sound of padded feet slowly moving through the snow, it was coming closer as he listened intently, trying to get a bearing. He reached down and grabbed one of his spears. Slowly he crept out of the depression moving to the right and around one of the great trees using the tree to cover his movements. As he rounded the trunk, he took several steps straight back and began to circle back to the left keeping his quarry between himself and the light from his campfire. He stepped cautiously among the tree trunks and the small patches of dried pine needles littering the snowy ground, as to not make a sound. After a few minutes of maneuvering he saw what had been howling, a small wolf, as Fenrisian wolves go.
This specimen was only a meter at the shoulders and was close to two meters long. Hunger swelled in Aergen’s belly again, and he could not stop the sound it made next. The wolf stopped as its massive head swiveled towards Aergen’s position. He froze as he was sure the great beast could see him as plain as day. Yet the animal lifted its head as it scented the air and Aergen realized he was again down wind from the beast, it couldn’t smell him and because of the campfire, it couldn’t see him either. Aergen moved a bit further to the left and got behind a large tree, he could hear the wolf begin moving away from the camp and towards him. The creature was still several meters away when Aergen made his move, he ran out from behind the tree, charging straight at the animal, howling like a mad man. The beast froze and Aergen went airborne again, only this time he was in a half sitting crouch with the spear tucked in like some ancient knight at a joust. The wolf lunged too, straight at him, and as the two would be combatants met, the spear penetrated the great beast between the breast bone and the neck, impaling itself clear up to Aergen’s hand. He let loose of the spear and twisted as the beast flew past him catching his leg with it’s right fore claw. Fiery pain shot through his body as he landed in the snow. He glanced around in time to see the animal collide with a tree and the spear shaft snapped as it hit the ground at its base. The wolf rose slowly, turned towards Aergen and took two steps before collapsing, blood frothing from its lips and foaming from its nose. He looked down at his leg, the claws had done their work and his upper thigh had been raked from knee to belt, blood running from the four parallel wounds at a steady pace. He sat there in the snow packing it over his wounds to staunch the bleed and after several minutes had it slowed considerably. Using his arms he crawled over to where the beast lay in the snow and began to gut it. Taking a long section of its guts and tying a tourniquet on his leg.
He finished cleaning the animal and started to skin it when he heard another noise, again off to his left. He wrenched the spear shaft from the carcass and still using his arms, drug the dead animal back towards his camp. He was feeling very weak and the pains in his stomach had returned. The sound moved closer for a few seconds then turned and moved off. Aergen went back to cleaning his catch; he had drug it down into his little camp and began to skin the great beast. He cut several strips from his cloak and wrapped his leg, figuring he would use the animal’s skin to keep warm, and scare off any other threats he might encounter. The scent of blood made his hunger even worse and with out thinking about it, he had ripped off several chunks of the warm bloody flesh and stuffed them into his mouth. His hunger abated again but he felt a strange sensation flow over him. He felt as if he was floating away and could sense the presence of something bestial and savage behind his eyes. He shook it off and tried again to sleep. As light broke, Aergen found himself some fifty meters away from his camp sight, another carcass with in arms reach, this time a small caribou lay near him and it had been half eaten. He looked about and then down at his own jumper and found that it was covered in half dried blood, he could taste the coppery sweet juice in his throat and he knew. He felt the urge to vomit and fought it back, knowing that he could not afford to waste food, and the hunger in his belly was becoming annoying again. Glancing around, Aergen suddenly became aware that he was almost totally exposed out in the open. He quickly ran back to his camp site and gathered the rest of his things. His cloak and the wolf skin he wrapped about his shoulders. He stuffed several large chunks of the wolf carcass in his mouth as he grabbed his spears, the stomach of the animal he had turned inside out and was using as a bag, of sorts. He crawled up to the caribou and quickly skinned and butchered parts of it, stuffing some of it in with the bits of the wolf he had cut up and put in his makeshift bag. He again stuffed several large chunks of the raw flesh into his mouth and wrapped the skin around his waist and leg. He didn’t bother changing the bandages as it had appeared that the blood flow had stopped. He had a long distance to travel and he kept scanning the horizon for signs of a mountain range. He hoped he was heading in the right direction as he broke into a running trot. He had to get back to the fang and stop the beast with in him.

[hairyyahoo]

very evocative of the character of the space wolves. well done. +rep

Very, very nice. +rep... You have made a damned good bit of work here. Definitely recommend you for the =I=

[TheKiller333]

Very, very good, and +Rep from me aswell.

[wolfpack]

Thanks to you all...I will get more posted as I get a chance to finish it...I hate Mandatory OT...LOL

[wolfpack]

Sorry this took so long...OT is killing my social life...LOL

Home Again
Aergen awoke from the dream…or rather was it a memory…his first encounter with his beast. He sat upright soaked in his own sweat and realized he was still in his quarters aboard the Grendel’s Fang. He tried to remember all of his trials in that moment and the memory seemed to dim and fade from his mind. His limbs felt stiff as he turned to sit at the edge of the berth, he reached to the vox panel on the table next to his bed and spoke,
“Sergeant Raznig, this is Aergen.”
“Aye Lad, report to the mess and we’ll talk then, Raznig out!” came the reply, short sweet and to the point. Aergen had an idea that the sergeant already was aware that he didn’t wish to waste anymore time. He felt reassured that the old wolf had probably had to deal with this situation in the past.
Aergen stood up and walked to the new suit of armor hanging on the wall mounts at the foot of the bed. The Armorer had done a wondrous job, as was his craft…and Aergen noticed a new mark of arms on his shoulder and right shin…the campaign badge for Kiros II had been placed there and there was a small white strip of parchment cloth with a red seal attached next to the badge on his shin guard. The smell of the anointment oils and incense filled his head and he smiled briefly…funny that he hadn’t noticed them the previous night in the Armory…He donned his armor and checked each fitting…he walked back and forth to readjust his body to the feel and fit. The new set fit like a glove and felt like an old friend…as the armors neuro links adjusted to its new bearer, Aergen could feel little pricks as the nuero transmitters set themselves into his second skin. After a few minutes of parading around his quarters, he felt that the suit had adjusted and the bonding was complete. He left his helmet and bolt pistol on his berth and leaving his quarters headed to the mess hall to meet up with the sergeant and hopefully the rest of his squad.

Aergen walked the great corridors, looking around at the grandeur that still filled him with a sense of Awe and wonder…he felt a bit childish. He was a Space Marine now, he thought to himself, but the feeling remained. The tapestries and murals of long dead chapter heros were everywhere. One in particular caught his eye…but this hero was not dead…it was a rendering of his mentor, Jarl Bloodmane, but the old priest was not a priest, nor was he old. The depiction was a Wolfgaurd with many adornments and talismans hung about his armor…he held an insect like creature up by the throat and was in the midst of throttling the creature with a power sword. It was not difficult to see the old wolf in this manner, but it struck Aergen with a sense of familiarity…something about the expression on the old mans face…he continued towards the mess.

Aergen heard and smelt the mess before he rounded the corner and came to the great double entrance…the scent of food and ale made him realize just how hungry he was. He had been eating medical rations for weeks and before that they had fed him through a tube…his stomach growled in anticipation. The scent of Fenrisian ale and hearty meats exploded onto him as the doors parted…the scent of fresh breads and fish…his mouth began to water without him even being aware of it.
“Over here lad,” he heard the familiar voice, “there’s plenty room.”
He walked over to where Raznig and Bronte were seated with five other members of his pack. He looked questioningly at the sergeant as he glanced about the table…
“Aye lad, it’s just the eight of us left,” the sergeant knowing the question before it was asked. Aergen sat down and nodded to Grebe, Draiven, Bucuss, and the other two, greetings were made, and the sergeant told him of the loss of his two other comrades.
“Rory got hit after you were found in the breach. He took a las hit in the head and lost half of it. Orvus was storming a building full of heretics during the mop up and got caught in a grenade attack. We sent them off well lad so no worries there.”
“Yeah and we made the scum pay dearly for their loss as well,” said Bronte with a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame.
“Lucky you tripped me up when you did or I’d have been with them,” Grebe spoke meekly…
“Poor Grebe here tripped over your arm just as we took some heavy fire…if he’lda been standin there...” Draiven gurgled a bit as he made a gesture across his throat with his thumb while finishing his sentence. Bucuss and Bronte gave a bit of a chuckle at that point and they all started to grab food from the plates set about the table…Aergen looked about at the fare set and grabbed a large hunk of some roasted bird, “when do we get back to training Sergeant?” he asked with a mouthful of meat.
“Well since you’re fit enough to stuff half that bird in yer face, it seems to me that you can be there at this afternoons fun, after we finish our meal, we will meet in the training hall at thirteen bells and make sure you’re in full gear…ALL of you!” Raznig ordered, pointing at them all with a half loaf of long bread. A raucous laughter erupted from the eight marines and the rest of the meal was spent in jokes and tall tales of prowess and martial ability.

The afternoon training went well from the squads perspective, of course Sergeant Raznig was not pleased with the performance, but then again that was nothing new…Still they caught the occasional glimpse of a smirk on his face when they went through a firing order with perfect precision or completed an obstacle assault in near record time. At nineteen bells a ship wide announcement was made…
“Final trans-warp jump in twenty minutes. All hands report to station. Fenris space in forty minutes. That is all”
At that the training session ended, Sergeant Raznig releasing the squad for a quick meal before they all returned to their quarters for the jump. Aergen had made several jumps and still felt uneasy when that moment came and everything around him seemed to stretch and twist as the great ship emerged from the immaterium. He decided to forego food until they had returned to real space and headed to his quarters…noticing that the rest of the squad did the same…to include the old sergeant.
The warning claxon sounded…“All hands, final trans-warp in 5…4…3…2…1”
The final Jump seemed to last an eternity. Aergen could feel rather than hear and see the strange things going on around the ship, as he sat strapped in the warp couch in his quarters. With a final lurch, the ship regained its footing in real space and the warning claxon sounded to alert the crew of this. As he unbuckled the restraining harness, another ship wide announcement came over the vox…
“All hands, Fenris orbital space in ten minutes. All hands to station. Docking in twenty minutes. All flight crews and shuttle preps to be complete in fifteen minutes. All squads report to your officers. That is all.”
The Wolves were home again!