F, Ave Excelsior

F, Ave Excelsior

F to pay respect

The woodsman (WH40K Short story)

I remember when I was but a boy, the sweet horrors of galaxy still unknown to my blossoming mind, they came. Like monsters from the story books I would read as I grew, their forms but a deadly shadow in my fading memory. From what I hear of the survivors, they were titanic wolf like abominations, tall as three men and weighing as much as six, they tore Wood from House as one tears meat from a bone.

To say we were unprepared would be a laughable understatement.

Our knights had seen creatures like they far from the fiefdom in there hunts, there Cannons and swords tearing through there hides like paper. To them they were slight more than a nuisance, an item to distract from the larger beasts of the dead lands. But to mear peasants with rifles, they might as well been gods. Shot bounced harmlessly from there thick hide, only succeeding in showing the beasts to there next target. Some did eventually fall, but not in such numbers as our own.

We hadn’t a chance, the knights were heavily injured from there most recent conquest, there oh so noble riders locked safely on there manor.

If not for our gaurdian angel, we most certainly would have been lost.

He came not in the skin of a man, but that more similar to an armiger. Metal and wires replacing skin and veins. he wasn’t human, closer to the abominations that forsook us. He stood almost 3 meters tall, with armored skin thick as bricks. He looked as though a person who had never seen a man was told to make armor for him. Shoulder plates that extended far above his head, thick joints that could barley move without hitting each other. With him came devastating armaments. In his left hand, a strange gun, that spat shot closer to artillery than bullet, and occasionally a blast of energy like a beam of pure radiant sun. In his right he held a massive hammer, like that of an ancient Terran smith. It looked a rather impractical weapon, easily half his height and being so obviously cumbersome we at first thought it was more trophy than weapon.

You could hear the beasts spine shatter just as our expectations when it was first used in combat.

Even today, almost Fifty years later, the battle is remembered like gospel, and while acounts are Varied, it is commonly agreed upon that the woodsman slew no less than 13 beasts before they ran from my village in terror. He had taken blows that may have even incaipacted a knight, but he stood, armor torn and bloodied, he stood.

It had taken minutes before anyone spoke, the silence akin to the void of space. It’s metallic eyes fixated on a man lying dead on the side of building, gored by beasts, but still griping his weapon even in death. The woodsman strode to the fallen man, and picked him up as if he were a doll in need of sewing, and carried him to the graveyard, gently resting him against a rock. Than another, a woman who had kept the beasts from her child. For her he did the same. This continued for hours, a wordless gesture was spoken by him to our people, one not repayable in ten lifetimes. He then simply walked back into the forest, as if he was suddenly beckoned to others in need.

None of us knew why he had saved us, nor why he treated our dead. We simply couldn’t fathom anyway to comprehend what had happened. Weeks later, when the Knight were repaired and the houses rebuilt, many said we should search for the Angel machine, for it more than deserved our highest thanks. We sent search party’s in explorator tanks that had been in storage since the colony ship had landed on world all those millennia ago. The knights searched far and wide for him, needing to balance there honor with our savior. None found him. It was as if he was a phantom in the wind, gone before we even knew he arrived.

I write this now so my grandchildren may now of this tale, so that the statue in the center of the township has as much meaning to them as it does to there elders. For even now, as my bones grow brittle and my mind begins to fail me, I still know of that man, my, and many others memory’s simply refuse to forget him. He may be long gone by know, even the best of machines will fail without care. But I hope that if we see him again, it shan’t be as a lifeless automaton slumped like a corpse, but as a glorious knight striding into battle once more.

-Arnekev Glasgow, historitor Dominus of Knight Feifdom Raile.

(Please DM/Comment any criticism on this story)

Link to part #2

Imperator

Link to part one

“I stand here, a testament to your legacy, proof that you once existed” -a common phrase amoungst historitors of the imperium. The old tech

Damnit, now every time I boot up H3 I’m gonna think about this

Imma go full world eater on someone because of this heresy

Stop what you’re doing!

You need to see this, just skip around and see how this toy reviewer assembled some of these guys and also painted them, I can’t stop laughing.

Avengers 4: Meme Machine

Avengers: Big Girls Don’t Cry

Space ork Writing #1

Casefile #3197-A1

Codename: prologue

Significance: First recorded contact with

Species: 4370

Subspecies: 1

Homo Sapien, humans

Intergalactic date as standardized for research purposes: 13,772,002,183(2,183)

Locality: sol system, dwarf planet Pluto

Research team: Epsilon beta 431

As told by: aion rinsheet (male, iterian)

We had made just made and emergency jump into unknown space our vessel, the I.C.E-3187 “ellipse”, was under attack by unknown hostile forces( probably the maldarians, those ——– have always been trouble)

Our vessel wasn’t a idarocolider but could still execute FTL jumps relatively quickly, but we were damaged. the lab and two sleeping quarters were venting nitrogen and we were losing pressure in the fuselage, we… we had to seal areas of the ship off with crewman still inside. I can never forgive myself for such ignorance in not raising the shields, I could have saved them. They’re dead because of me.

:Log terminated:

Casefile #3197-A2

Codename: The suffering

We’ve been drifting now for (43 standard sol hours), half the ships been blocked off because of random decompressions. the crew’s been restless, our nitrogen supply has been running low, as have our rations.

………

We’re going to die out here

:Log Terminated:

Casefile #3197-A3

Codename: a light in shining darkness

I can’t believe it, it must be a (incomprehensible vulgarity) it can’t be (incomprehensible vulgarity) believe it. There’s a single that’s been shot out from a planet in the 47th subsection of the this galaxy, it’s faint beyond measure, barley an echo on our sensors

Could this be salvation?

:Log Terminated:

Casefile #3197-A4

Codename: Reconation

Audio function.

Enabled

…………

(Muttering)

…………

[Chief xenobiologist aion] “There’s no way”

[Void Navigator EяIs] “Oh your (comprehensible vulgarity) right there’s away”

………

[Chief xenobiologist aion]“So what your telling us is, we not only made a random jump and it landed us in the black zone”

[Void Navigator EяIs] “yes, and we’re not dead”

[Second xenobiologist gehena] “that’s pretty (Comprehensible vulgarity)obvious”

[Shipmaster Roiylin] ”can we please get back to the point at claw”

[Void Navigator EяIs] “yes,ok, well, you may want to sit down for this”

(Audible sound of chairs being sat in)

[Void Navigator EяIs] “Reyna”

[Transmission officer Reyna] “thank you, well, we traced the signal back to its origin……… it’s on Sol 3”

(Chairs hit the floor)

[Chief xenobiologists aion](comprehensible vulgarity)

[Second xenobiologist gehnena] ”that’s not possible!There hasn’t been activity in the sol sector since the Great empire of Ares 300,000 years ago”!

Please write as much criticism and reviews as you like, I love writing and would love to hear your thoughts and opinions