Tales from the Dark Millennium

As already mentioned, I am partial to the odd bit of 'Fluff' *pauses for snickering to subside* and that extends to the odd dalliance with fiction writing. It's a past time, I'm not expecting a call from The Black Library anytime soon; but I thought I'd post it up for those of you who may be interested, as I am, in this sort of stuff.

My current work is based around a campaign my friends and I are playing, I wrote some short narrative extracts as an introduction for the players and since it has got underway, I have written more to flesh out the bones of the plot and explain the effects of certain completed objectives.

The campaign is set on the Imperial Guard founding world of Lalinta Prime which, for reasons best known to the stellar cartographers of GW, lies just beyond the southern borders of the Imperium's Segmentum Tempestus. It's currently in the throes of a murderous takeover bid by Slaanesh cultists; but while Astartes from the Ultramarines and Blood Drinkers are dispatched to purge the cult, other interested parties from the rival Chaos powers of Nurgle and Tzeentch gather to play their hand as do the enigmatic Eldar.

Here is the first of the short intro pieces for each force involved in the conflict, enjoy, oh and if you do happen to work for the Black Library you can find my email in my full profile; I'll work for peanuts (ready salted if possible) and I'll even supply my own pencils.

Back in the Black

His skin prickled and the hair upon it rose with static charge. His muscles shivered involuntarily, his mind clouded for a moment, as if woken suddenly from a deep slumber and his mouth filled with a metallic tang. It was always the same, but even after all these many centuries the feeling was still slightly disorientating.

The mighty Strike Cruiser Bloodied Spirit of the Blood Drinkers Chapter was emerging from the Empyrean. It’s Captain, Gaius Turpo blinked away the feeling as the last tendrils of Warp light dissolved from the bridges main viewport.

The constant vibration through the deck plates beneath his feet and the accompanying low throb that had been ever present for the past three weeks voyage from Persephone IV, ceased suddenly as he ordered the Warp drives cut and the ship eased into cold logical void of real space; the great plates of its hull groaned and creaked as they settled from their rigors. He felt the Spirits relief acutely through the MIU and he breathed a barely audible sigh of his own.

He opened a private Vox channel to his Navigator Cortez Sidereus situated four decks below and offered his gratitude for the vessels safe passage and expeditious arrival in the Lalinta System. Cortez returned a whispered acknowledgement; Turpo knew that the man was exhausted and would have to be lifted from his blister and carried to his small cell by his retinue.

The bridge lights flickered as the main engine drives began to spool up; through his link Turpo watched as the hundreds of Auxilia working in the swelter of the vast engine compartments, moved in a finely orchestrated dance to rouse the Spirits fiery heart.

Servitors slaved to the ships many sensing systems began to chatter reports, relaying the ships exact time, position, speed and heading. The bridge staff busied themselves about their stations set on a three tired gantry below Turpo’s command nest.

The Spirits two escorts, the Galdius Frigates Valorous and Revenant had made real space an hour standard time prior to the Spirits arrival and had set up pickets around the transition point. They reported no local contacts but that a large debris field around the inner system was preventing accurate readings. Ominously there was no contact with the Founding World of Lalinta Prime, every channel tried was filled with bone chilling screams and mind aching blasphemies of scrap code. The Captains had ceased their attempts lest the code infect their ships systems and minds of the crew.

Turpo watched the seemingly random patterns of debris swirling on the glowing green view plates. His second, Brother Sergeant Vulso Petrovus stood silent sentinel at his side. Many minutes passed until.

‘Beat to Quarters please Vulso, we are not alone.’ Turpo said quietly, his eyes not leaving the displays.

Petrovus keyed the Vox and announced loudly.

‘To Arms! To Arms! Set Condition Primus!’

Picture featured 'The Sovereign Venture' by Sacha Angel Diener , copyright Fantasy Flight Games 2010.