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40K GT Chaos Marine Background - WestGamer
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PostPosted: Tue Oct 10, 2006 7:42 pm 
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Hey all here is my GT armies background its not really explaining much its just showcases the armies troops really... any feedback would be nice and probably necessary as it was typed in about half an hour :D
my army is based on wordbeares very loosily (if that helps) anyways enjoy...

Darkness, more then just the mere absence of light, this was an ancient, horrific thing, tangible and somehow alive, darkness crept and crawled across the blasted landscape. It was midday mere moments ago the scorching hot sun had blasted down now the chill of night crept in. In the trenches the guardsmen shivered in cold and dread. The darkness blindsided the blazing sun turning it umber and left the landscape as ugly as a bruise. An ethereal breeze carried over the battlefield, the stench was like a butchers shop in hell, visceral all rotten meat and strange perfume mixed together. Then there was the sounds, shouting, high pitched laugher, too loud to be imagined to indiscrete, unintelligible voices sung a sinister lullaby into the guardsmen’s heads.

The guardsmen clutched their guns tightly and looked to their officers wondering what knew devilry this was. Three months of constant fighting against the damn traitor PDF had stretched the nerve of all the loyalists, but their sudden disappearance was even more disturbing. Then it began. Screams and roars began to reverberate across the landscape rising, falling and overlapping in an insane crescendo. The landscape responded warping twisting, churning nightmare forces stretched realities fabric and tore through. Bale-fire billowed, actinic lightning arcing across the sky as reality rebelled against such violations. Nightmare forms barely perceived or imagined pressed out of the shadows and into horrifying clarity reaching out as if plucked from the waiting soldiers minds. Soldiers gibbered in fear, minds broke, going insane or berserk, others killed themselves, the majority desperately clung onto reality and maintained some semblance of order. All the while through screams and the nightmares the darkness advanced over the loyalist positions swallowing them whole into the horror that was chaos.

In the front line, peering out over no-man’s land something was very, very wrong. In the enveloping darkness evil awaited; something was coming, something horrible. Reality strained and buckled as it resisted, the ground scorching in response. The guardsmen exchanged worried looks, those men that weren’t already dead. Nightmare forms coalesced out of the darkness a mere five meters from the terrified guardsmen. Here was the long awaited evil. Armored in baroque versions of imperial power armour they advanced. Eight-foot tall monstrosities covered in blasphemous runes that writhed with a life of their own, they slaughtered all. The runes fixated the eye, nauseated the stomach and twisted the mind. Archaic boltguns coughed death into the wretched guardsmen, blood caked chainswords hacked apart anyone in their path. More chaos marines appeared, more and more seeping out of the darkness in some obscene diffusion. Even more gargantuan then the chaos marines, obliterators strode forth out of the ether, flesh melting and writhing like living wax, heavy weapons fire scything into infantry and armored support alike. Everywhere there was death and darkness.

The guardsmen fell back to the secondary trenches where the darkness had not yet swamped their positions. The sunlight battling against the supernatural shadow and losing, lit by the slowly dying sun the secondary line opened fire in vengeance for their slaughtered brethren. The darkness reacted, swirling and changing before roaring forward like a tidal wave of horror it began spitting out a catalogue of nightmares and perversions of nature. Writhing ectoplasmic, vaguely humanoid shapes raced forward, ruby red skin melting and remolding as it was hit by las-fire. The humanoid daemons bounded amongst the guardsmen with huge lithe steps, limbs reshaping to spear guardsmen and drain them dry screeching like banshees they killed. Gas masked horrors stalked forth on hoofed limbs, a single alien claw extending from one limb the other was some skeletal hand impossibly clutching ancient blood soaked weaponry these new horrors bounded forward to the slaughter, armour offering them know resistance despite the gas masks they roared like demented bears as they slaughtered in the blood gods name. The chaos marines followed up the daemonic assault the reeling guardsmen desperately backing away a trench line at a time only the disciplined Cadian officers stopping it from turning into a complete route.

A single chaos marine staggered as if hit, falling to his knees, he convulsed, spasming violently he exploded outwards the blood and gore fountaining skywards and coalescing into a terrifying entity easily twenty feet tall the daemon lord roared its fury at the cowering guardsmen. The tidal wave of hatred and sorcerery turning soldier’s inside out, organs and bones shattered out of bodies snapping and pulling into grotesque new forms. This was too much, the guardsmen ran as the daemon lord slaughtered dozens in seconds, hundreds of men turned tail and ran, vehicles reversed desperately away from the fighting. The darkness reached out and swallowed them whole. Men desperately ran for their lives running blind through the shadows and trying not to hear that sound. Like dry leaves crumbling, like dust being beaten out of old carpet, because they damn well knew what that meant. It meant death. The survivors looked desperately for safety and stopped as a shadow overtook them, if there was no sun how could there be a shadow? They turned to look and died.

A few scattered souls ran on shutting out the screams, the daemons came bounding behind them, in most cases it took a matter of moments. A single blow from a claw, quick as a snake and as silent as an exhaled breath fatal in effect, drawing out souls and sending them shivering into the darkness. There was nothing but malice and the desire to cause pain in their actions. But the slaughter was a by product of their goal, their devotion. The flock had strayed. They had to be brought home.


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PostPosted: Tue Oct 10, 2006 11:56 pm 
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Very cool! You know of all the posted fluff, this was the only one i read from top to bottom! Very impressed! really took me there olly p. Good stuff. Specialy love the in depth discriptions of the exploding body parts and morphing deamons. :D


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PostPosted: Wed Oct 11, 2006 10:13 am 
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Joined: Mon Aug 07, 2006 1:13 pm
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Location: Perth, South
Once again olly p. you amaze me. Very well done mate.

It seems that creative writing and imagination seem to flow from you like blood for the blood god! ..... lol

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"There is no such thing as a plea of innocence in my court. A plea of innocence is guilty of wasting my time. Guilty." - Inquisitor Lord Karamazov


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