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Fight on Pt 3. - WestGamer
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 Post subject: Fight on Pt 3.
PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 7:45 pm 
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Here's the next part in the ongoing brother horst storyline, hope you all like and appreciate any comments as always (especially grammer as it was typed pretty quickly)
enjoy!

The marine strode through the smoke; it twirled around him as his bolter coughed explosive death into the chaos-filth ranks. Renegade PDF convulsed and spasmed as the shells impacted in their corrupt flesh. The renegades rallied and brought up a special weapons team, they strode forth plasma cells humming with coalescing energy. The smoke billowed forward gusted forward by a distant artillery strike somewhere down the street. The plasma bolts discharged harmlessly into the debris-gloom. From the left side the marine appeared impossibly stealthy and quick for someone so huge; his bolter scythed explosive death into the traitor’s ranks, las-bolts pattered harmlessly off his power armour. The plasma gunner swiveled in time to receive a bolt to the face pulping it to red ruin, the gun clattered into the rubble. The marine leapt back firing a single shot into the weapon. The explosion took out another dozen traitors and fused the ground into a smooth crater of mica-rock. The survivors reeled away ears and noses bleeding from the concussive shock, the marine showed no mercy following up relentlessly power sword ignited and cleaving through helpless foes. The marine left a trail of twitching smoking carcasses in his wake. A few moments later it was over, the marine stood still, power sword sizzling the blood off the energized blade. The marine had just wiped out over thirty renegade PDF in under a minute. I can make it back, he thought as he ran down the street.

The marine’s drop pod had been glanced by defensive turbo-lasers enroute and had skewed horrifically off course; it had impacted ten kilometers behind enemy lines. Three had died in the crash, the other survivors now hung in a stasis-capsule on the marine’s belt, the geneseed now carried by the sole survivor. The marines had accounted well of themselves in the running fire-fight against enemy reserve-forces who had believed themselves safe, an armored division had explosively stopped the astartes valiant efforts. Now the marine running down the street was the last hope for the departed to ever return home, his helmet a crumpled ruin he couldn’t even comm in any support. I have to make it.

The marine managed to get a further kilometer when the feeling struck like a hammer-blow. A sub-conscious shiver that brought him to a stumbling halt, the air itself seemed to be shaking. What the hell is this? He fell to his knees leaning on his sword, unable to stand and fought back the nausea, his ears and nose had started bleeding and for some reason his Larraman cells weren’t stopping it. He coughed and felt warmth fill his mouth. Laugher peeled down the street, insane cackling laughter that ripped into him. He looked up and saw a figure atop a ruined administrum silhouetted against the debris-clouded sun. The figure disappeared, not by moving out of sight but by literally disappearing. It appeared three meters in front of the marine, whose eyes widened in shock. The feeling went away suddenly its absence unnervingly serene; the marine slowly regained his feet. He took in his new opponent. A seven foot tall muscled humanoid, wrapped in a dark glossy-black bodyglove, sharp angular designs done in blood red stood out against the insect-coat. The vambraces and greaves were both adorned with several vicious blades, rune-encrusted and hooked, there was no doubting their function. The newcomer’s face was masked; a smooth mother of pearl helm encompassed the entire head with only two slits for the eyes, which burned a sickly yellow. The chaos-thing carried a single meter-long sword the seemed to be made out of elemental darkness. The marine had heard reports about such creatures, these were the arch-enemies elite warrior-assassins, breed from daemon-flesh and powered by the warp. A Blade-kin, Throne this is not going to be easy

The blade-kin lunged at the marine who managed to raise his sword in time; the blade-kin twisted pushing the marine back so that his armored feet skidded across the rubble for over a meter. Emperor’s blood! What was that strength? The blade-kin leapt four meters straight into the air, arcing back down it used gravity to help further strengthen its strike. It swept down lunging with its blade; the marine dodged aside, the blade embedded itself in the ground. Impossibly swift the blade-kin twisted its grip and pivoted off the sword hilt kicking the marine square in the chest sending his armored bulk flying. It hand planted and bounced forward as the marine fell back, drawing its sword out of the ground and striking down in one insanely fast motion. The marine’s power sword met the chaos-blade with a resounding crash. The marine grimacing with the effort pushed upwards rising to his feet and pushing the blade-kin back vaulted over the marines head, landing nimbly on the wall above and pushing off with insane speed, it swept its sword in a wide arc that the marine barely blocked. The blade-kin landed nimbly as the swords clashed again and locked. The daemon-assassin flexed and swept its sword around, impossibly the marine was sent flying backwards landing meters away down the street in a cloud of cracked road-side.

By the throne he was getting murdered! The marine got to his feet and charged forward power sword blazing blue energy. The blade-kin lunged forward dodging an overhead sweep and sliced his blade across the marines chest cleaving apart skin and power armour alike. The marine staggered back the blood already clotted on his chest wound, it was superficial at most not even going deep enough to scratch bone. I’ve been in a thousand fights, this is no different he lashed out a torrent of blows that the blade-kin managed to block and dodge, leaping nimbly from side to side it counter-attacked lancing its sword into the marines shoulder and ripping the shoulder pad free in a welter of pre-coagulated blood. I’ve fought every foe imaginable and beaten them all, once, twice, a dozen times, what is this thing to challenge me? The marine locked swords with the daemon-assassin; he pressed forward pushing the daemon back he bull-rushed it using his bulk to crash-tackle the blade-kin to the ground I have beaten the odds before, this is no different his and the daemon’s blades both skittered away as they impacted crushing the rockrete street with the impact No different he rained punches in smashing his armored gauntlets into the things head in a torrent of brutal remorseless blows that at first dented and then shattered the face-mask I’m winning, I can beat this thing! He kept raining punches, the armour on his fingers had begun to stress fracture and the skin on his knuckles had split, clotted and re-split. I can feel my knuckles breaking, doesn’t matter, fight the marine stopped abruptly chest heaving. The blade-kin’s face was unblemished a featureless glossy-black thing with the two yellow light-slits for eyes and a mouth filled with viciously pointed teeth. It smiled and rammed its hand straight through the marine’s chest.

The daemon-assassin’s bloodied hand emerged through the power unit at the back in a shower of blood and shrapnel. The marine’s eyes widened in shock, the blade-kin stood up and withdrew it arm the blades on its vambraces grinding through organs and bone painfully, it turned and kicked the marine four meters across the street landing next to his power sword. He reached out with a trembling hand and grasped it rising stoically to his feet, his chest a crimson ruin of clotting blood. The blade-kin picked up its own blade holding it casually at its side; it spoke its voice a low-hiss that somehow cut through the air,
“You can feel it can’t you? You’re flesh and bones are dyingâ€


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Mar 30, 2007 8:23 pm 
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I like it. I really like your blow for blow account. I take it maybe this is a "to be Continued...." style of things?

Though two things. if you are worried about grammer and spelling, type your story on word, that way it will pick up most of them for you.
And secondly, a marine would hardly think "What the Hell is this?", he would probably think like "Where in the warp did this come from?" or something. But then, half dozen people will probably tell em I am wrong.

Hexidecimally yours,
Bandiceet.

_________________
"Wake up me boy! There you are. Now, how many finger am I holding up?"
"Umm.... one?"
"It must be worse than I though; lad can't even tell the difference between a hook and a finger"

Oi!


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PostPosted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 11:35 am 
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It will be continued...eventually I just felt like writing a good fight sequence and this is the character to do it with. With the grammar word has a knack for ignoring sometimes illogical sentences :x
I'll see what people think I should do about the marine's expletives otherwise I'll leave them as is


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