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Legend of the Nightmares {{Story, do not post}}

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Shoryuken

PostPosted: Sun Sep 04, 2005 1:05 pm


It is the 41st millenium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emporer has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the Gods, and the master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustable armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power fron the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truely die.

Yet even in his deathless state,the Emporer continues his Eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the Daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, thier way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emporer's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst his soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Thier comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defence forces, the ever vigilant Inquisition and the tech-preists of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for ll thier multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants,- and worse.

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst the untold billions. It is to live n the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
PostPosted: Sun Sep 04, 2005 6:02 pm


Teaser



The noisy Bolt Pistol kicked in Gerad's hand, spitting forth its holy bullets into the faces and bodies of the traitorous Imperial Guard, exploding within the bodies of those who were not fortunate enough to have the bullet pass through them. Gerad couldn't help but smile as he ended the lives of these horrid blasphemers, sending them to hell to greet thier dark gods.
An Apothicary was seeing to the trapped Space Marine Gerad had been protecting until this point, knowing full well that a Marine's life was worth more than his could ever hope to be. The trapped marine grunted something as he was freed, and stood nearly two heads taller than Gerad. The marine began barking orders to the nearby units, and pulled out his own Bolt Pistol.
This marine, he was the captain of the regiment that had been placed upon this world! Gerad could not believe that he, a mortal, had been protecting a god of a man like the captain, whose terminator bodyguards finally reuinited with. Those were the true gods among men, thier armour glistening with the blood of untold enemies killed upon this battlefeild.
Gerad had proven his mettle thus far, and he was not about to stop now. Scooping up another Bolt Pistol on his free hand, he chared headfirst into the enemy ranks, his screams of rage and courage mixing with the hollow deathsong of his guns....

Shoryuken


Shoryuken

PostPosted: Wed Sep 28, 2005 6:02 pm


Chapter One



The barking orders of Sgt. Reinhold rang aloud to all the new recuits, his voice reminding them of a age-old machine that was far louder than its newer coutnerparts. Constantly prattling and roving on, the man seemed to not to know when his lecture should be over.

At least, that is what Jren Grolade thought, listening to the old man. Jren was a young man, almost eighteen Imperial standard years. Just old enough to begin training to be an Imperial Guard for his homeworld of Loc-Rhah. Strategically, Loc-Rhah was a standard storage world, holding armaments and rations and everything else a army could need while coming through the system.

Because it was such a vital spot in the system, Loc-Rhah had a space marine company stationed on the planet at all times. The company would change out every ten years or so with another company from a different space marine chapter, and its people were influenced greatly by each chapter that had been stationed there.

The current chapter, The Nightmare Hounds, a flegeling chapter from the mighty Space Wolves chapter, had been stationed there for eight years. This group of marines were more honourable and nicer to the humans they protected. Unlike those of the Blood Angels neigh over ten years ago.

Jren was shaken from his little reverie by a stern look from a man who had just knocked his shoulder. Everyone had been dismissed, and Jren had just been standing around like an idiot. Again.

Grabbing his gear and heading out, Jren maneuvered through the busy barracks and out the plasteel gate of the fortress. As he set foot onto the dusty plains, Jren sighed and began his march back home. More than a three miles trek, his feet would be rather sore by the time he got to his little prefab shelter within the town of Krisladd.

But a thought found itself within his mind, and he looked to the east. That way was the space marine monastary, and it was less than a mile away. The marines had always shown him kindness, and were more than fond of sharing stories and a little space for him to sleep. That, and he loved to hear the chaplain preach to them.

He made up his mind eventually, and slung his gear and his lasgun over his shoulder, heading east towards the monastary. He put on his goggles and hood as the sand began stirring up, and acted as a little bit of a barrier. Jren growled lowly as the sand pressured itself against him, like he was wearing more clothing than he needed, as he headed towards the monastary.

((bleh, Ill get more here later, right now im watching 'Ghost Hunters' lol))
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