3Storm Heralds Reading List
Book1 Maledicti Venator, Serrati Stellas, Tenebris Resurget
Finis Fide Chapter 1
The woods may have been dark but they were far from silent. The forest was filled with the chirp of insects, the swaying of the pine trees in the midnight gloom and the busy life of small animals. Through that tapestry of noise moved a dozen shadowy figures, creeping along with innate woodcraft. They were wrapped in blackened cloaks, broken only by the protruding barrel of antique las-locks with their bulky slide-recharge mechanisms. They advanced in a huddle of grey shapes, keeping close together for protection and watching the shadows for enemies. Eventually they came to a small clearing and spread out to check every nook and cranny for danger. After a few minutes one of them straightened and shrugged off his cloak. Beneath the drab fabric he wore tanned leathers with webbing filled with rations, kit, tool and ammo, and around his neck hung a small stone on a piece of string. His face was worn, with a greying beard and tired eyes. On one arm were stitched the stripes of a PDF sergeant, whereas the other bore the double-headed eagle.
He looked around and said in a lyrical accent, "That's enough, this is as good a place as any for camp. Break out the tarpaulins and find a comfy spot. Make sure to get something to eat, rations packs only, no fires"
This pronouncement was met with a wide chorus of groans but the man chided them, "Don't give me the long faces, it is better than drawing every Kern for leagues around down on our heads. You know the drill, team Una you're on first watch tonight, team Dua grab a bite then four hours sleep before second watch, team Tra you lucky gits get to sleep tonight."
Tiredly the men broke up, many grumbling under their breath as they sought rest. The sentries heading out with their Laslocks clutched tight, heading into the forest to stand guard. The Sergeant threw himself down on the cold ground and unwrapped a linen-packed ration bar, gurning as they chewed on the chalky substance. Two more men sat down alongside the sergeant, one a young man, the other old and grey. The first turned to him and in the warble of breaking youth said, "Sergeant Kalos, are we ever going to see any action?"
The other newcomer snorted, he was older than the rest of the patrol and wore a necklace of beads and avian bones, making him seem a shamanic tramp. This one said, "Don't be daft Zander, the Kerns have not been this deep into the forest for years. Besides if a Kern saw you then the Psybrids wouldn't be too far behind, what would you do then? They would crush you before you could wet yourself."
Young Zander went pink at being insulted so and yelled, "Watch your mouth Phelps, I am not afraid! I signed up to rid our world of those foul Xenos and their slaves. I swore on my dad's deathbed I would see them driven off Odiosis and bring back the Sky Emperor!"
The older man shook his head and snorted, "Spare me the religious doggerel, there is no Sky Emperor amongst the stars. You are too young to remember the Imperium, but the truth is those snooty lords never cared about Odiosis. Apart from the clerics and preachers all we ever saw were the annual tithe ships, sucking up all our resources and young blood. Face the truth whelp, the Imperium abandoned us to rot."
Zander spluttered in indignation, "Don't blaspheme! The Sky Emperor is real, my da told me so. Just you wait and see, he will send his Astartes to save our world!"
Phelps threw back his head and laughed "Don't be an idiot! The Astartes don't exist, they were made up by the preachers to make us behave like good little boys and girls."
"Will you two knock it off!" cut in Sergeant Kalos testily, "You're making enough noise to wake the dead. I don't know if the Imperium will ever return but for now I will settle for a quiet patrol and a warm bunk back home."
"But Sarge," said Zander in the self-absorbed whine of youth.
"But nothing," Kalos snapped, "I have been wandering these woods since before you were born, dodging Psybrids and picking off Kerns. I've never seen any star striding army come to Odiosis before and I don't expect any to come tonight. All we can count on is ourselves, you should..."
He never got to finish his sentence because in the next moment they all felt the shift in the atmosphere, a sudden chill making every man jerk upright. A chill down the spine made them all leap to their feet as the woods filled with a pregnant tension. Las-locks were in hand and charged before the first retort of a shot rang out. Kalos swung his weapon about and shouted, "They've found us, take cover!"
Men threw themselves into the dirt, huddling behind lumps in the ground or fallen logs and pointed their guns towards the source of the noise. A series of bright flashes from the sentries heralded the approach of danger and the patrol levelled their Las-locks at the shadows between trees. There were a series of flashes and bangs from the sentries, followed by a sibilant hiss and then a handful of men ran into the clearing. They threw themselves among the dug-in defenders and yapped, "They're coming!"
Eyes fixed on the trees Kalos wiggled close to Zander and said, "Hold steady, aim and fire just like we practiced. Remember to watch your friend's backs, for they will be watching yours." The boy nodded but his face looked pale, like he was about to be sick, as he clutched his las-lock. A rushing noise heralded a line of wasted, emaciated figures running out of the treeline, they were of human stock yet their limbs were stick thin and their ribcages protruded. They looked to be in the grip of famine but they moved with feral intent. They ran bent over like hunchbacks, emaciated fingers hooked like claws but worst of all were their faces, vacant and slack, with no hint of emotion showing from their blanked minds.
Kalos swallowed his revulsion at the sight and shouted, "Kerns, Open Fire!". He raised his Las-lock and a blast of energy speared out, burning into a Kern's chest, killing it instantly. He worked the charging bolt-action mechanism of his archaic weapon and fired again and again, roaring, "Ave Imperator! Ave bloody Imperator!"
The first line of Kern's went down but behind them were crowds of bodies, charging forwards heedless of losses or of injury. Flesh wounds were shrugged off like rain and only a killing blast could put them down. Kalos had no idea how many of them were out there, all he could think was to aim, fire and recharge over and over, stopping only to replace exhausted battery packs. His men did the same and Kerns dropped like flies, but more kept coming. It was a test of disciplined courage against feral savagery, the number of savages against the steady rate of fire.
Wave after wave of mindless slaves charged out but the patrol's discipline held and the Kerns were cut down relentlessly. Slowly their numbers thinned, growing scarcer by the second as the defenders concentrated their fire. Finally, the last one fell leaving silence behind and the men cheered in relief, for it looked like they would live to fight another day. But before they could even rise to their feet a looming metallic shape pushed out of the treeline, bending gnarled boughs over like rushes. It was ten-feet tall, standing on back jointed legs with splayed duck like metal feet and Heavy Bolters fixed to either side of its body. Framed around its cockpit were transparent armourglass windows through which could be seen a green mist, swirling and billowing with eerie purpose and a long equine face, barely visible as it leered out at them.
"Abaddon's Balls," Kalos swore then shouted loudly "Psybrid! it's a Psybrid Mech!"
The lurching machine clomped into the clearing, ponderously swaying from side to side as it raised its arms and the loud sound of autoloaders rang forth. Kalos and his men threw their heads into the dirt but two men were too slow as the heavy bolters opened fire, blowing them into clouds of gore. Kalos wiped mist of blood from his face then raised his Las-lock to return fire, despite the miniscule chance of inflicting harm on the machine. His las-lock flared but the discharge barely scorched the Mech's armour and it took another ponderous step forward, tracking its heavy bolters around to finish the fight.
Just as it was about to open fire a small shape flew out of the tree line from behind and impacted on its rear. It was the size of man's fist and it was perfectly judged to impact just as it exploded. An explosion bloomed out and tore off one of the Psybrids heavy bolters, leaving it staggering like a drunk. Kalos realised the object had been a Krak grenade and looked about in surprise to see who threw it but was stunned by what he saw next.
Advancing out of the treeline were eight towering monsters, each a giant of reinforced metalwork and buzzing power plants, bearing double barrelled canons so weighty no man should be able to lift them. They stomped forwards in mechanical unison, flashes of starlight glinting off the edges of their polished armour and with eyes glowing like flints of coal. The Psybrid Mech swung about to face them but the giants raised their canons and opened fire. Streams of fusion energy shot forth and the Psybrid Mech wilted like a candle left in an oven. Reinforced plates boiled away under the kiss of Melta-weaponry, revealing pistons that in turn melted and glopped into slag. The Xeno in the cockpit screamed inhumanly as its capsule became its coffin. The gases within boiled, cooking it alive even as molten armourglass dripped onto its form, trapping it forever like a fly in amber. Three seconds passed and then the Mech collapsed and lay still, steaming and popping as its metalwork cooled.
Kalos was lost in wonder, never had he seen a Psybrid Mech taken down so swiftly and surely. These intruders had done something he wouldn't have tried without a score more men by his side. He was astounded by the display of might but a quiet voice in his mind warned him to be wary, for what sort of monster did it take to best monsters? Who were they and why were they fighting the Psybrids, Kalos asked himself, could Odiosis could have been invaded by a second Xeno race?
His men were getting to their feet, clutching their las-locks fearfully as they stared at the new invaders but they were too slow. In the time it had taken them to stand the giants had brought their canons around to point at them. Gun barrels the size of fists loomed and Kalos realised that the slightest twitch of a digit could end them all in heartbeat. Very slowly Kalos got up and stood to the front of his patrol, he straightened his jacket, for a distraction if nothing else, but as he did so his Imperial eagle was revealed.
One giant was armed differently, with a smaller pistol-canon and a long serrated blade hanging on its waist; it glanced at his symbol and then lowered its canon. It stepped forwards from the line of giants and the patrol cowered at the intimidating sight, but then the massive monster did something totally unexpected. It crossed its hands over its barrel chest and said in an impossibly deep and sonorous voice, "Ave Imperator".
Kalos could not have been more shocked and he froze absolutely still, unable to grasp what they were hearing. Then the giant reached up and twisted at its head. It came free, revealing skin and bone beneath and Kalos was stunned to realise that it was a nothing but a helmet, yet gigantic and shaped for an inhuman scale. Kalos looked up and saw the head revealed had eyes, a nose and mouth: it was human but impossibly large. He took in the grizzled features of what he now realised was a man and saw lifetime's worth of scars, set around a large monocle that was buried into the right eye socket.
The giant man fixed his helmet to his waist, then he surveyed the patrol and declared, "Hail soldiers of the Emperor. I am Sergeant Toran of IXth squad, of the Storm Herald's Ninth Company."
The patrol lowered their guns and glanced at each other in wonder but his next words shook their world to its core, "Know no fear for the Emperor smiles upon your world: the Astartes have come."
