The sounds of cracking las shots echoes, as always, throughout the cities of Quintillus V. The orcs unending assaults were always knocked back. But the cities never repair, never rise back out of their ashes, always do they sit in this dark, grey barren lands. Dust and smoke fill the air from fires burned out long ago. The silence between gunshots deafens me yet I pay no heed to it now. Even when the sun sets to mark the beginning of our twenty-seven hour night, I pay it not heed. The orcs are tireless, they sleep not and always do they throw their bodies against our walls, readily eating bolter fire. Well, at first they did, now simple heavy-stubbers suffice at beating down the defeated creatures. Defeated not physically, but in soul, ever since their charge seven years ago. That was when this city suffered all its damage.
Alrikus, the city ruled by my uncle, the deceased, lecherous hooligan that was Invendis Alaric. Planetary govener no less, now he is dead, and so is my mother, the Lady Insesta Irine. Oh that fateful deaths that kept me from the Imperial Guard, the deaths that halted my following of the path my father, the Admiral Ravion Alaric of the Imperial Navy. My path, Insesta always believed was to follow my Father, to become an Officer of the fleet one day, a bridge between the Imperial Guard and the Imperial Navy, the links in the two chains that make up the Astra Militartum. Alas, that was not to be. Now I stand, planetary governor of this usless rock, Imperial tithe cannot be paid in anything other than men, all of whom enter straight into the Imperial Guard and fight of the orcs. I am Lord Lupus Alaric, and I am most bored.
The city of Alrikus was once a city to marvel at; tall gleaming spires, ornate statues of great saints and above all else, the Cathedral of Saint Giliphus Ordimens. The descendant of the saint was the arch Confessor within the Cathedral. Giliphus Ordimens had uncovered the Quintillus system. On the planet of Quintillus V was the Orcish leader of the sector discovered, after a war for ten years in which the orcs were steadily purged from Quintillus IV, Giliphus was deployed on Quintillus V. The Orc's Warlord in question had significant psykic potential and the beasts magiks kept artillery from achieving a lock on the creature. Saint Giliphus new of the need to end this orc and so, with nought but a las pistol and a vox-caster, transmitting a signal to craft in orbit, he charged into the orc's camp during the dead of night, it is said that he died seconds after entering the camp, torn apart by ravenous Squig. But the vox-caster was producing its signal, and so it rained fire. For three hours the camp was bombarded by a fleet in orbit. When the dust settled, nothing remained of Orc or Saint Giliphus. Two years later, when cities were beginning to form, the echlesiarchy declared Giliphus a saint, and so his cathedral was built on the sight of his Vox Caster's signal.
My youth on this planet was droll and slow, I would rise daily to servants heeding my every whim, only to learn military tactics, ranks within the Astra Militartum, and other necessities of those born into the Nobility of a system. That was when the Orcs first charged. The city was shattered, full of flames and the dead. Orcs never managed to reach the upper hives however, my uncle always wanted to be nearer the Middle Hive. He claimed that to rule a people you must experience their pains but Mother suspected that Women were cheaper if you were in the Middle hive. His indulgence in everything sweet and luxurious was sickening. The pleasures of the flesh that he succumbed to were his undoing. The orcs pillaged his home and gutted him, taking his head as a trophy. My mother had been close to her cousin twice removed, my Uncle, indeed families of the nobles are closely knit, with his death she became reclusive and quite. She took her life with a noose. In that fateful second, I, the Seventeen year old Lupus Ravion Brutus Alaric, became Planetary governor of this now back-water hovel of a planet.
My prized possessions include a few small items, an Aquiline baton and an Autopistol. My most prized possession however, has a long and bizarre story, I am sure will intrigue even the most dull of readers. The Vigore Mortemis.