"Skybolt you are cleared to dock in hangar three." The voice of the comms officer of the Metnadrhjoll came over the speaker. The Skybolt was a Stormfang gunship in use of the Grimfangs great company of the Space Wolves. The gunship soared through the void above Fenris to catch up with the company's flagship as their fleet made ready to exit their home world's system. Turrets of all sizes tracked the approaching vessel on principal more than anything else.
The lone occupant sat in the center of one of the benches in the red light of its hold. Clad in his power armor and a long grey furred cloak, Graudon Brighteye was barely in his ninth decade. On his belt was clasped a bolt pistol that hung a tooth from below its muzzle while on the other side hung a rune encrusted power axe.
Once more, Graudon cast his runes onto the floor between his feet. The carved animal bones landed the same as they had in the Fang. Every casting for the past week had left him confused. The runes almost resembled a laughing face. Whether at him or his assignment he was not sure.
Upon becoming a Rune Priest Skald, Graudon's first task was to spend time with each company in the chapter, learning their tales and sagas. He had spent time with each, ranging from the Great Wolf's own company to the Drakeslayers. He had only one company left to learn of. The Grimfangs.
The company had a reputation for being as rambunctious as any other in the chapter, though he was told that most of them did not know when to be serious. Most of them. The company itself, though varied in methods, used a combination of mechanized assault and massive firepower in their battles. On top of this being his last company to learn of as a Skald, Graudon would serve as the apprentice to their head Rune Priest, Larden the Iceseer.
The gunship touched down in the hangar as the doors quietly closed behind it. As Graudon stepped out onto the deck, he was greeted by the sight of two Blood Claws in the midst of a drinking contest. Others around them were taking bets on the winner. From behind him a hand slapped his shoulder pad.
"Best get used to that sight." The Skybolt's pilot told him as he walked past. "You're awaited in the war room" The Iron Priest that had flown the transport in didn't give him a second look.
Graudon chuckled at the contest to himself as he walked past a few other warriors tending to a pack of Fenrisian Wolves. On the other end of the hangar, more Iron Priests were supervising chapter serfs as they tended to a land raider with a quad barreled siege gun mounted on its hull.
As he awaited the lift, Graudon watched the Blood Claws drink. There were empty tankards spread around them, and the warriors both seemed to be teetering from the effects of the Fenrisian Mead they were downing.
The lift doors opening grabbed Graudon's attention. Leaning in the corner of the lift was another wild looking young warrior. Dirty blond hair rose to a peak above a face that seemed only as old, if not younger, than the Skald. On his waist was a serrated combat blade. Clad in furs and leathers, he seemed more like a man taken straight from the native tribes on Fenris rather than a full-fledged Astartes.
"Well?" said the impatient youth "Step on. Unless you want to join?" He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.
Graudon looked back at the group for a moment and stepped onto the lift. The warrior hit a toggle to take them up from the hangar level. For a company whose reputation weren't very serious, he did not seem very personable.
"Who are you?" the Skald asked after a few moments of awkward silence. He cracked a smile "Surely you don't just work the lift?"
The warrior looked at him for a moment as if he was just struck in the face, and slowly his hand drifted to the blade on his waist. Graudon's almost instinctively went to his pistol. Almost. He stopped his hand half way to the grip. He was sure he would be pounced on at any moment. Then the warrior threw his head back and laughed.
"Aften." He finally said. "Aften Coldotuch. One of Jarl Grimfang's lieutenants."
"One?" Graudon raised an eyebrow. Normally only one the Wolf Guard acted as commanders in the Wolf Lords absence.
"One. There are four of us." Aften Coldotuched smirked. "And yes. I am the youngest." He had obviously heard remarks of his youth before.
"You seem barely as old as me." Graudon stated in an obvious tone. "How did you make it to the Wolf Guard, let alone to become a battle leader so quickly?"
Aften shrugged. "It's a long story."
"It's a long walk from here to the war room. Besides..." Graudon opened his arms at his sides. "I have to learn the stories."
Aften shrugged again and heaved a sigh. "Well..."
The Tyranid Hive-ship cringed in the void beneath another withering barrage from the Metnadrhjoll's bombardment cannon. The impacts of the cannon's magma bombs blasted craters in the Bio Ship's hide before superheating the wounds into cauterized dead sections of bone and flesh. Clusters of gun like protrusions on its hide vomited globs of acidic bile in response, hitting an Imperial navy frigate in return for the wounds done unto it. The frigate's hull buckled and spilled crew members, alive and dead, into the void as the bulkheads near the impacts melted away. The frigate listed in space as emergency systems attempted to keep the ship operational and close off the areas around its breaches.
As it glided, the massive beast swung one remaining arm that ended in wicked sickle through the frigates remains. The frigate responded at the creatures approach with a desperate broadside before the scythed arm tore the ship fully in half, a chain reaction of explosions blasting the back half apart as the Hive-Ship brushed aside the front as it continued on its way.
The battle over the planet BXI-1986 was an ambush set by the Grimfang's fleet and the sector's Naval contingent to stop the splinter fleet from reaching a hive world a few systems over. The ambush, though intensely violent for both sides, was going well. Corpses of other bio ships drifted through space alongside the remains of imperial ships as the living, both alien and human, continued to destroy each other.
The Gladius Class Frigate Iron Mane glided past the wreckage of a another Naval Cruiser in pursuit of its killer. The cruiser sized manta creature had blasted acidic holes into the cruiser before grinding its innards together like a trash compacter with the stone hard lining of its wings. Inside the Chapter serfs, servitors, and Blood Claw squad crewing the Iron Mane fought their own battle in the halls of the ship.
As he was then known, Aften Giantson launched another bolt from his pistol into the head of a doglike Tyranid with four scythed limbs for arms and batted away the attacks of another with his chainsword before swiping it back through the creature's torso. The halls of their Frigate were small though, and yet a third of the creatures in as many moments pounced on his back, thrashing its blades over his shoulders, trying to get through his armor.
It had him down to one knee with another creature charging to help its compatriot in his demise when the spinal area of the one on the deck burst from a bolt pistol's bark. Another bolt flew overhead and the head of the creature on his back exploded, soaking his hair in its ichor. Aften wiped what he could away with his gauntlet, flicking it against the wall and laughing. Castor Steelclaw the Wolf Guard warrior in charge of Aften's Blood Claw pack ran past, running through another creature behind Aften with his own roaring chainsword.
"Keep your head up lad!" Castor shouted behind him. A braid of red hair swinging below a tall mowhawk with each turn he made and each spin of his head.
Aften laughed again and swung around, sending another scythed arm flying as he kicked its owner against the wall with a sickening crunch. Down the hall, one of his comrades was less lucky. One of the creatures, even in the middle of the battle, feasted on its victim's throat with rows of sharp teeth. When the bites were not so easy to take, it attempted to strip the armor from the body for easier access. With a roar of protest, Aften fired as he strode toward his fallen comrade. His first shot blew out the creature's ribcage and knocked it off his fallen comrade. Another blew off an arm. A third exploding bolt separated its screeching head from its body. The headless body squirmed and thrashed for a second or two before finally falling still.
Leaning next to his comrade, Aften saw bright blank eyes staring through a blood soaked face. Where a throat should have been remained only tore muscles. Several punctures from scythe arms scored the armored torso and softer joints. Taking a moment, he closed the eyes with two gauntleted fingers.
A screech down the hall indicated several more of the creatures showing much less sentimentality than he was for their slain allies. Aften Giantson charged headlong into the creatures, his heavier armored form plowing into them as his chainsword roared his fury.
Out in the void their frigate banked again, its broadside blasting a destroyer sized creature off of the Great Glacier, one of the Grimfang's two Strike Cruisers. The other, the Metnadrhjoll, with the support of two other imperial vessels took different paths to blast apart the Hive-Ship from separate angles. Even in the emptiness of space all who watched could almost feel the giant scream as it was torn apart by massive gun and laser volleys.
"Additional vessel detection." chimed in one servitor physically plugged into the auspex that monitored vessel movement. "Additional vessel detection. Additional vess-"
"Mute yourself!" Shipmaster Correl shouted from the command throne on board the bridge of the Metnadrhjoll. "By the Emporer these servitors almost make me want to be one of them just so they don't give me the headache anymore." He said to Jarten Lighthammer, the company's chief Iron Priest.
"I want nothing to do with that procedure, shipmaster." Jarten said looking over the auspex screen. "Too many nasty images in that head of yours."
"Pardon me for having an interest in something that isn't mechani- Angle port bow 30 degrees and prepare starboard broadside to fire!" The shipmaster immediately returned to hurling insults at Jarten, pointing in his direction from the throne. "And yes I did mean it that way."
An hour later, Aften and the rest of the rest of his pack aboard their frigate were meeting in the war room of their frigate Iron Mane. Castor Steelclaw was on the bridge, attending a meeting between the Astartes on each ship in the fleet.
Closest among his friends, Argred Sveddenson couldn't stop laughing at the sight of Aftens hair soaked in Tyranid blood. "You look like you just took a swim in a daemon's arse!" Several of their other packmates nearby laughed heartily at Aften's expense. Argred's bristling red hair was bald on one side, with his beard set into two long braids. Aften always thought Svedenson had gotten interrupted half way through shaving his head and just left it.
"So you're saying I look like you on a normal day?" Aften shot back as he toweled off as much of the blood as he could. "How many did you get?"
"Twenty three." Argred crossed his arms in his assumed victory and cracked a wicked, short fanged smile. "While you were swimming I was killing."
Aften raised an eyebrow and tossed aside the towel. "I guess we'll have to double the bet for next time." Argred's smile disappeared. "Twenty-"
"Oh no."
"-three."
Argred deflated immensely and put up his hands to Aften as if he didn't know what he was hearing. Aften shrugged sheepishly. "Like I said. Double."
They both laughed as the door to the war room slid open. Castor strode in with an excited look, going to the console in the center of the war room and pulling up a holo-map of BXI-1986.
"Job's not done yet boys!" he announced excitedly. "The Hive-Ship launched spores just before our ships finished tearing it up."
"Told you we'd just need fly swatters!" One of the other Blood Claws yelled from the back, eliciting a laugh from others.
"You'll have plenty chance to show them we don't need them Firefang!" Castor smiled and looked around. "Navy's mopping up the rest of the drone screens and Kraken ships. Jarl Grimfang volunteered the company to finish off the spores on the ground. Heavy blizzards across the planet though, so no air support and no vehicles landing until it's cleared up." Castor beamed at them all. "That is if there's anything left by then." The pack cheered around the Wolf Gurad as he patted the air to quiet them. "The Jarl sent speeders and scouts planet-side in case this happened. We, my friends, are shuttling over to the Metnadrhjoll. We will be dropping."
The entire unit of twelve blood claws cheered. Nothing excited them more than the rapid descent of a drop pod from low orbit. That was unless the drop was in the middle of an enemy force.
One of their number was dead, while two others went into stasis upon receiving wounds too grievous to survive on their own. Those two would survive, with perhaps some help from the Iron Priests in one way or another.
"Firefang, Giantson, Wingback, Sveddenson, and Ironbone, you will drop with me." Their pack leader continued. "Stormlife will lead the rest. We will be dropping near the northernmost site. Speeders will meet us on ground. Meet in the hangar in thirty minutes boys."
The pack broke up to prepare for the drop, Aften stopping Argred at the door. "So…. Double or nothing?"
Argred laughed and continued past. "Wouldn't be fair. You smell like them!"
The drop pod's systems alarmed as the shell was battered by the winds. Stabilizers kept it on course as the pod screamed through the sky, making only a glowing silhouette in the denseness of the blizzard. The rush of the descent, combined with the extra danger of the planet's violent weather made for quite a fun ride for the wild pack of warriors.
The pod slammed into the ground throwing up snow and dirt, adding to the torrent of the blizzard whipping around it. The drop pod's jets fired, turning the pod in the ground so that it stood upright. The doors slammed down from all sides. Aften and his five fellows rushed down the ramps as the storm bolter in the center of the pod swiveled, its twin barrels scanning for targets in the snow.
Forming a circle around the drop pod, they scanned the area nearest to them. Even with their enhanced eyesight, the howling wind and snow made it nearly impossible to see more than ten yards ahead of them.
They wasted no time in putting distance between themselves and the drop pod. If there were Tyranids nearby, they had the advantage of catching them as they disembarked, and of informing any others nearby of their presence just by seeing them.
"Almost seems like home." Floki Wingback said, standing next to Aften. He lean his meltagun on his shoulder nonchalantly.
"Almost." Leif Ironbone trudged through the knee high snow as if it were nothing. "The weather needs to be a little worse."
"Nothing's tried to take my head off yet either." Aften said with a laugh. The blizzards were less than threatening without the predators of Fenris hunting them just beyond their vision. He missed home now that he thought of it.
"Quiet." Castor said approaching them. He pointed to his nose. Something faint was in the distance, though with the blizzard none could tell where it was coming from. All four of them knelt down, sinking into the snow as much as they could without lying down. Argred and Borg Firefang, not far behind them, did the same.
They were as still as statues for a time, until the snow was swept up outwards from the anti-grav jets of the Land Speeder slowing itself to a halt in front of them. Aften let out a breath and rose with the others, moving to encircle the speeder in case of an attack.
"Took you long enough to get here lads!" Krayl Leadfoot, the driver of the speeder yelled over a renewed gust of wind. His name came from his penchant for driving his speeder at reckless velocities as if it were a heavier vehicle than it was. "Your other group is three clicks Northwest of here. We have another speeder moving to meet them."
"And the bugs?" Castor had to yell over a particularly violent gust of wind, even being right next to the speeder.
"Several spore pods landed Northeast of here." Leadfoot informed "A group of Long Fangs were supposed to land East of them but we haven't heard anything. Vox is fracked underneath this blasted blizzards clouds."
Castor let out a string of curses. "Is anyone else set to land in this sector?"
The Grey Hunter in the speeder's gunner seat laughed at Castor's question as he continued to scan the surroundings with his heavy bolter. It almost seemed futile to the squad with no one being able to see far enough to shoot more than a pistol. Steelclaw regarded the gunner with a raised eyebrow before turning back to Krayl who was quick to answer his question with a grin. "Uthgard the Ancient."
Castor quickly understood the gunner's humor and threw his head back in another hearty laugh. "Where?"
"Same as the Long Fang's I'm sorry to say. Best bet is to head in the direction of the prey's landing site. It's estimated at least five clicks." The driver yelled again. "Everyone in this area is headed in that direction. We'll scout ahead for you and head back if we run into trouble."
His smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived. "Do we even know exactly where the Tyranids landed? Or even if they've moved on or not?" he was growing frustrated. They were spread thin and weren't sure exactly where the Tyranids were, and couldn't see a damned thing.
"Yes!" The driver smiled a toothy grin as he hit a toggle on the speeders console. "That way!" he pointed roughly to the Northeast before firing the speeders engines and boosting of in the direction he pointed.
Castor turned to nearby Aften, who only shrugged light heartedly and pointed after the speeder with his chainsword. The Wolf Guard waved his men forward, leading them farther into the storm.
"It could be worse boys!" yelled Argred Sveddenson from the rear.
"And how could it be worse?" responded Floki Wingback.
Aften was able to cringe internally as he could almost see Argred's smile behind him. His friend's sense of humor was nearly as bad as the Jarl's. Nearly. Argred's jokes were only that bad half the time. Like now.
"It could be snowing hard!" A fistful of snow promptly hit Argred in the face.
"It's been a while." Wingback called from the rear. "They should have shown back up by now."
He was right. The speeder had shown back up to report in with them twice in the hours they had marched against the storm. The snow was higher now, reaching half way up their thigh. It barely bothered the Astartes as they trudged through it, though it was still enough change for Aften to notice. Whether this was from living on Fenris or their genetic augmentations was something the company argued about furiously in their spare time.
Castor held up a fist at the head of the group, the other four Blood Claws stopped as if a vid screen had been paused. Aften slowly crept toward the pack's leader and knelt down with their backs to each other. His eyes darted around as he went, expecting the snow itself to rise up and attack them. As he approached, Aften noticed Castor's red braid of hair had become a stiff white column, frozen in the harsh storm.
"What is it?" Aften said as he knelt down behind Castor so their backs were together.
"The wind has picked up." The Wolf Guard announced. "Stronger gusts from the North. The storm may be passing."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Castor was right. Now that it was mentioned Aften did notice the snow was definitely blowing into them rather than in random directions.
"It would be if we had the storm on our side." Castor said with a tinge of irritation.
"It's not fun to blast the crickets from orbit anyway." Aften half turned toward Castor with a sharp toothed grin. "No sport there. We've been walking too long with dry swords for that matter."
Aften noticed Castor shaking his head lightly at his eagerness. "You'll get to use that chainsword plenty lad." The Wolf Guard did not move. He was staring ahead, though if he was seeing something, Aften could not see it himself. Hell, he could barely see his other companions behind them.
"Smell." Castor ordered after Aften remained silent for a few confused moments.
There it was. Aften could not tell why he hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps it was the change in the wind? It must have been. It was that pure smell brought on by cold wind. Blood. And something else. It was that unforgettable smell of powder from spent bolt casings.
They found the speeder a few hundred feet away. Snow had already begun to accumulate on flatter surfaces and covering the ditch it had dug as it was dragged into the ground.
"Stranglethorn." said Borg Firefang as he approached the thick spiked tentacles that had hardened onto the ground behind the crash. The edge closest to the speeders wreck had entangled itself around the armor, sections pulled completely off by the living hooks. "Looks like they got hooked and dragged down."
"Sveddenson, Ironbone, check for tracks." Castor commanded as he checked on the gunner. Wingback went to check on the heavy bolter. Aften attempted to look over the assault cannon that was partially ground into the earth and snow underneath the hull.
Of Krayl Leadfoot there was no sign save for a bloodstain and a combat blade that was left behind, along with a severed tentacle or two before the pilot had manages to escape the same fate as his gunner.
Speared in several places by the tentacles that had attacked the side of the speeder, the gunner was quite dead. One tentacle had caught the gunner's face and wrapped around his head. Blood had seeped out from beneath the tentacles thorny grip freezing on his cheeks and mustache. The pressure of the tentacles pull had crushed his skull into a silence scream of agony leaving space for another of the appendages to wind its way into his mouth and throat. From inside the dead gunner's throat, several thorns from the vines poked through his skin, giving evidence to how deep they reach.
From a wound at the shoulder hung a red icicle from a tattered piece of meat that remained of his arm. The rest of the limb had been torn off and was now tangled in the hardened and dried tentacles beside the craft. A third of the alien vines had speared into his armpit joint beneath the armor, dislodging the breast plate as it had rapidly grown inside and around the victim's torso.
Castor shook his head and rested his hand on the gunners shoulder, mouthing a prayer and farewell until he would meet the warrior again in death. "What about the bolter?" he finally said turning to Wingback.
"Trashed." He said inspecting the gun's muzzle. "One of the barbs found its way into the action and tore up the barrel." He pushed the weapon on its pintle in frustration.
"If they were an extra second or two ahead they would have been missed completely." Aften called up to them from beneath the front of the speeder. "The cannon's intact save for some dirt that could be knocked out."
"Can we get it out though?" asked Firefang, joining Aften underneath the speeders prow.
"Maybe." The young Blood Claw said straining at one of the bolts of the cannons mounting. "We'd need to get the speeder loose though."
"I've got it." Wingback said stepping back from the speeder and leveling his meltagun.
Castor's hand quickly closed over the Blood Claw's forearm. "Don't hit the speeder. I don't want you blasting us to hell because you hit a fuel pod."
Wingback looked at the Wolf Guard for a moment, before chuckling and aiming again. The first blast of infrared energy burned the steel hard tentacles behind the speeder. The few strands that were not burned away quickly snapped, not able to hold the weight of the crashed vehicle by themselves.
"Dammit Floki!" Aften yelled as he and Firefang scrambled away from the prow of the vehicle as it shifted in its release from the tentacles in the rear. "Warn me next time you're going to start blasting away around a vehicle I'm lying under!"
Wingback shrugged and giggled slightly. "Sorry." He aimed again at the side of the speeder where the gunner was held in his gruesome state.
Firefang closed his eyes and winced, waiting for the vehicle to explode. Another blast of the meltagun released the tentacles and the speeder once again shifted in the dirt. The gunner's body shifted as well, released from its gruesome hold.
Castor gently lifted the gunner from the seat and lowered him to the black burnt ground. In the seat next to where the gunner's body was lay his chainsword. Each Grey Hunter in the company was equipped for close combat as well as having their bolter. After a quick check, the Wolf Guard clipped the second chainsword behind his shoulder and gripped the side of the wrecked speeder.
"Help me here." He said as he started to push on the side of the speeder. Firefang, Aften, and Wingback all joined in, lifting the speeder and revealing the 6 barreled cannon underneath. "Firefang, see what you can d-"
A bolt pistol barked in the distance. All four of them turned in the direction of the sound. "Scratch that. Don't see. Just get that cannon." Castor nodded his head at Aften then in the direction the shots came from. Aften didn't have to question as he ran toward them.
"Spore mines!" Argred screamed as he and Ironbone came running out of the storm, followed lackadaisically by a floating mass of flesh, Aften quickly popped the creature with a round from his pistol.
"That's it?" Giantson asked with a raised eyebrow. "You came sprinting back for one spore mine?"
Two more came floating after Argred and Leif. Leif Iron Bone carried on toward the speeder as Argred stopped and blasted one of the two spores with his own pistol. Aften finished the last.
"Not for the spores!" Argred said before turning back toward the speeder, obviously still in a hurry. "For the-"
An ear piercing screech cut through the winds as something swooped past overhead. It was loud enough that even the Astartes had to hold their ears.
"Harpy!" Leif Ironbone called back to the others at the speeder. Argred jerked his thumb after the running warrior as they followed suit. Aften cursed to himself. This was no time to run into a harpy.
The snakelike harpy, with sharp edged wings and sporting two large cannonlike organs beneath its body swooped overhead, leaving the snow swirling through the air as it did. It screeched again, opening its massive jaws shockingly wide as it turned with unerring agility.
A pop of something impacting the snow threw the powder up as more of the tentacles from the like those on the speeder writhed out of it. The only difference between the vines that were on the speeder and these were that they were smaller but grew far larger in seconds, writhing around in search of anything to grip and tear apart. Unfortunately they were shot there for a reason. Leif Ironbone.
The shots landed perfectly on either side of the warrior, the barbed appendages gripping Leif's leg, then arm, then midsection as he was pulled further into the growth. Leif swung with his chainsword in a sweeping ark, severing some of the vines as they drew him in. One of the tentacles found a joint in the armor where his leg met his body, digging its way into the softer part between plates and wrenching hard.
Leif hacked again with his chainsword before three other tentacles shot up to grip the spinning teeth and clog its motor as it tore and pulled at them. More and more of them wrapped around him and ripped at any openings they could find. Leif went to scream as another growth, almost knowing an opening, wrapped itself around and lodged itself like a gag in his mouth completely around his head. With a thorny, tearing jerk, Leif's neck snapped.
"Everyone else split up! Clear shots only! Keep moving! Firefang-"
'I know just go!" the Blood Claw called without looking back from his desperate work on the assault cannon.
Most of the pack went to split up. Running and turning at random intervals, popping pistol shots at the harpy as it passed overhead. On the third pass, something disgorged from the harpy's body.
"More spore mines!" Aften fired a round off as another mine landed on the far end of the speeder, slowly floating its way toward the one target that was not moving. "Firefang! Your blind spot!" Aften could see that Firefang was looking around the speeder as he started to sprint toward it. He was half way there when the harpy swooped by again.
The Stranglethorn cannons under its body fire off into the distance away from Aften, but a ripple in its body released a volley of long spikes peppered the ground near him, one of them impaling his thigh. Aften faltered and skidded on the frozen ground in the snow. He got up to see the spore mine rounding the back of the wreck as it popped in a shower of shrapnel like bone fragments that threw Ironbone to the ground. Aften grew dizzy as he jolted back up. The spikes must have been poisoned. He tried to stand and quickly collapsed.
The harpy screeched again and the Stranglethorn cannons let off two more seeds that Impacted nearby. A chainsaw roared in the distance as the sound in Aften's ears slowly began to mute itself as if he was underwater. His vision dimmed. Lights seemed to spark in places before everything went black.
The world seemed to be a whirlwind. Small winged insects swarmed and dissipated near Aften. He walked up an incline in what seemed like a huge cavern, passing close to a mold covered tree. The mold on it gave the smell of rotting wood as it seemed to pulse under his sight.
In the distance a gaggle of slender shrieking creatures flew over the top of the hill. One of the smallest creatures landed on his shoulder. It wasn't until then that he noticed he was naked. Looking at his shoulder he was taken aback by the strange creature he saw. It seemed to look at him with knowing eyes as its dragonfly wings fluttered on its back. It held a familiarly large set of teeth that screeched as it looked at him before digging its teeth into his shoulder.
Instinctively he swatted at it. Another seemed to take its place. He swatted that one away as well. More seemed to come. He ran as he swatted more of them. He must have been near a nest. As he reached the crest of the hill he was able to see the rest of the cavern.
Large bioluminescent creatures floating around in the cavern brought illumination to a nightmarish scene. The cavern below him was the stage to a massive host of creatures. Some floated above the cavern floor with large armored heads. Others flew on huge batwings. Other creatures with huge bulbous bodies disgorged far smaller, and even more numerous monsters from pits underneath their armored forms. They all seemed to have the same heads. Armored brows, with oversized teeth erupted from a lipless mouth, with deathlike black eyes that did not seem to be their own.
Even more towering creatures, snakelike or on armor plated spider legs walked around being absorbed by huge tear drop shaped sacks that quickly floated off into the darkness. Many of these creatures seemed familiar. Others were alien to him, but just as terrifying.
It was then that he noticed the caverns walls. The cavern was not stone. It was flesh, lined with huge ribs that lowered from a spin in the caverns root.
In the center of the swirling mass of nightmares was a large acidic pool. From between the legs of the creatures slithered even smaller creatures. Even from here he could see they too possessed the same armored heads, teeth, and eyes. As they slithered between their larger compatriots, Aften was surprised that they nearly jumped into the pool in the center. Each made a sickening sizzle as they impacted the surface. What was strange to Aften was that he was able to hear the splashes even from here.
A thud behind Aften told him his presence had not gone unnoticed. Turning, Aften beheld another large creature. This one too had large bat wings and a body that ended in a snakelike tail. At the end of that tail was a pincer that clicked hungrily for something to tear at. On its torso were four huge scythlike arms, each one twitching much like the tail.
It slithered closer as Aften could not take his eyes from its own. This one, though much the same as the others he had seen, seemed to regard him with its own mind, as well as whatever presence seemed to be in all the others.
The creature lurched forward, digging its front two scythe arms into the ground on either side of Aften as it roared a knowing glare into him.
Aften's leg erupted in pain, jolting him awake. He surged forward ready to scramble for cover before Firefang caught him. "Easy Aften. Easy." Aften looked around confused. "We got it." Firefang explained as he handed the spike from Aften's leg to Wingback.
Aften's look of confusion only deepened. How long had he been out? Did Wingback get off a lucky shot with his meltagun? He was sure they could take out the harpy, but not without more casualties. Looking around, Aften got his answer.
Castor Steelclaw was at another speeder that was still very much functioning. A heavy flamer hung both beneath its undercarriage, and from the gunner's pintle. Standing next to the speeder was Krayl Leadfoot. Some dried or frozen blood spattered around his right shoulder where it met his pauldron. The grey rune depicting his rank as a grey hunter was scratched and dented. Aside from the pistol and chainsword magnetically clipped to his waist and hip, Leadfoot's boltgun hung around his left shoulder from a heavy leather sling.
Castor glanced over at Aften as his brothers helped him up. Aften gave him a nod before the Wolf Guard turned back to Leadfoot and the speeder's Grey Hunter crew. It was then that he noticed the distance between him and the speeder. He could see them more than a hundred feet away. The snow still fell, but the storm had passed. If it hadn't he would not be able to see the wrecked speeder with the dislodged assault cannon, empty of rounds now, lying in the snow next to it.
Of his two companions Wingback seemed little worse for wear, though Firefang had a fresh gash across his forehead that had already scabbed over thanks to his Larramen's organ. Aside from the head wound, Aften made out several new dents in his armor.
"Did the cannon help at all?" Aften said, his head pounding as his second heart and Oolitic Kidney worked hard to diffuse the toxins from his blood.
"See for yourself." Wingback told him, jerking a thumb behind him down the hill.
Aften saw exactly what Wingback was pointing too. He headed in the direction Wingback indicated before stopping at an equally sickening sight, the corpse of Leif Ironbone.
The last he saw of Leif Ironbone he was being wrapped in the Stranglethorn tentacles, failing to fight his way out of them. The state of Aften's fallen brother, now that he had time to look, was worse than that of Leadfoot's gunner. Aside from armor crushed or rent between the cutting thorns and crushing tentacles, Ironbone's head was mangled beyond belief.
Aften had seen one of the tentacles wrap itself around Leif's head and between his teeth, but the pressure from the Stranglethorn had pulled his cheeks toward the base of his skull to the point of tearing, creating a sickening smile as the tentacle wrapped around and snapped his spine below the brainstem. The pressure had done even more damage, dislocating his jaw and causing it to sit crooked in his head. The sight of Ironbone was infuriating. That he was out of the fight so quickly replaced his fury with regret. For a moment. Then he was angry all over again.
Looking past his dead friend, Aften continued to where he saw a live one. Argred Sveddenson must have been just as angry, for he was kicking the teeth out of the dead harpy's large jaw one by one.
Having a closer look at the large Tyranid, Aften was able to see its colors finally. It's flesh was a blood red, accented with white where the hide hardened into more armored segments. It was obvious to Aften that the harpy had crashed into the ground, leaving a small trench in the snow and frozen earth as it skidded to its resting place.
Argred did not stop from his work on the creature's mouth. He kicked brutally dislodging fangs the size of their forearms and letting them fall into the snow wherever they would land. The creature was already quite dead. At this point Argred was only blowing off steam. What steam he could anyway. They all had more than enough rage just for the Tyranids' existence that beating a corpse would do little. Finally Argred turned as Aften drew closer.
They stared at each other for a moment before Aften regarded the harpy and looked back to his friend. "Did it scare you that much when it was alive?"
Argred's face twisted in confusion for a moment before cracking into a smile. "Well it was still prettier than you."
Aften laughed and gave Argred a shove. He too had scratches along places in his armor. Hs power pack seemed damaged as well. It seemed to be struggling to keep a stable cycling process.
"How did we take it down?"
The Harpy's body was pock marked with bloody wounds. The assault cannons terrifying rate of fire obviously did its work well on the monster. It was obvious many rounds had not penetrated its tough hide or missed completely. But with a rate of fire numbering in hundreds of rounds per second that still meant a great number of them still had their effect on the harpy. There was also seared flesh in places along its body while a larger deeper wound was gauged into an area near its lower spine.
"It had us running in circles longer than I'd like to admit." Argred said looking over the corpse next to Argred. "We were able to hit it with pistols once or twice but it didn't really mind that much. Then the speeder was able to catch it close, with Leadfoot there hanging off the side. Seems when they wrecked he went looking for the rest of his own pack. They came back knowing we'd be following his trail. He got a good throw with a krak grenade and they burned the bastard hard with the flamers. By the time it was able to correct itself Firefang finally got the assault cannon free. And you know how that goes."
Aften nodded. He could almost picture the beast burning through the sky above them as the assault cannon spilled its payload into the air around it before it crashed into the ground. "Firefang finished it then?"
It was Argred's turn to nod. "That reminds me." He kicked the teeth of the harpy again, causing a wet crack to sound from the creature's mouth. Argred bent down and grabbed the largest of the loose teeth he could. Aften looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? I get better kicking practice on your arse than to do it just because it's there if that's what you were thinking."
Aften chuckled again and made his way back up the hill. After a kick or two, perhaps just for fun this time, Argred rushed to catch up to him.
Argred tossed the large tooth to Firefang as they approached. Firefang looked at the fang and back to his fellow. "Trophy." Argred explained. Firefang only smiled his appreciation.
"Just got off the vox with Eggerd and the Breakers." Castor informed the squad as they gathered together around the speeder. Krayl gave the squad a nod of recognition as they approached.
"They have as much fun as we did?" Firefang asked as he slammed a fresh magazine into his bolt pistol. The gash in his head, though scabbed over, was still a nasty wound for Aften to behold. He had to admire Firefang for more or less ignoring the wound and carrying on. The entire squad seemed to have some injuries, some that were probably enough to kill a normal man.
"Took down a patrolling Harpy themselves actually." The squad cheered and clapped slightly at their brothers' victory. "Uthgard is with them now. They're heading toward the drop site now."
"Is it just us and them then?" Aften voiced the question all the warriors gathered there were thinking. "Even if the remnants from that hive ship scattered as they did, two patrolling harpy's can't be scouting just to protect a few gaunts."
Castor gave a fanged smile. "Oh no, boy. Not a few gaunts at all."
Aften lifted an eyebrow. He did not like the look on the Wolf Guard's face. All of the Wolf Guard and Lone Wolves seemed to inherit one personality trait from spending time with the Jarl. Castor even explained it to him once. "The bigger it is. The more it needs someone putting a sword in its face."
The indication hit Aften like an angry grox. "Oh…."
Castor shrugged sheepishly. "We'll handle it."
"Do we know how many there are? Or do we at least have a plan?"
"Of course." Castor said. "They're not far from here. We'll meet up with Eggerd and work from there. I'll explain on the way."
"You didn't answer the lad's question though, Steelclaw." Krayl Leadfoot pointed out as he looked over his shoulder on the other side of the speeder. "But hopefully that'll answer it for you."
Cresting the hill just to the west of them, figures in power armor, with frozen hair and snow crusted furs hanging from their bodies, steadily made their way toward them. Their leader, however, seemed untouched by the snow. True to his name, Bjorn Stormlife strode through the snow even better than the other warriors. It was as if there was no snow reaching to his thighs.
The other half of their squad had returned and their destination was at hand.
Krayl Leadfoot crawled through the snow as slowly as he could. He cursed at himself profusely however as his armored form made stealth a less than an ideal feat. As he reached the top of the hill, the Grey Hunter slowly pushed aside the snow in front of him into a small hole. It wasn't enough to see everything, but he did not need to.
The scene below him was not encouraging, especially for all he had seen in the past day. The two dead Harpies seemed to be the only major air support for the group of Tyranids that had landed here, but the threat was far from over. Three large floating spores lazily glided around the perimeter of the company's prey. From each of the spores sprouted more of the strange bio-weapons that had ended many lives in gruesome deaths over the past eighteen hours.
Though the spores were a problem, what they guarded was the real threat; Tyranid warriors, standing at least ten feet tall and armed with their own bio-guns and more of their trademark scythe arms. Aside from their uniform weapons, one of the warriors was sporting another Stranglethorn Cannon.
Allfather do I hate those. He thought.
Around the warriors writhed masses of much smaller creatures. As long as his forearm, hundreds if not thousands of Tyranid Larvae writhed and slithered around their much larger brethren. Even from this distance he could make out their armored heads and black orbs that they called eyes. They were all colored the same as the harpy. A blood red tint painted each creatures flesh, with the heavier plates of their hide a contrasting red. The snow only added to the contrast. If humans resembled Tyranids, Krayl thought, he would almost think they were missing skin in places.
The warriors seemed to be up to something. As Krayl watched, the warriors dug their scythe arms into the ground. It only took a few repetitions of the actions to understand what they were doing. As the warriors loosed up the earth, the larvae would bury themselves. The Tyranids were trying to hide them. He knew what that meant if they were allowed to hide and move on. The creatures, with time to prey upon any organic material on the planet, would rebuild.
Krayl relayed the information through his vox bead and unslung his bolter. Krayl checked his bolter one last time and wrapped the sling in his left arm as he rested the stock in his hand. He was the signal for Castor and Eggerd's plan to commence. Even Uthgard, crotchety bastard that he was, agreed. The spores' guns would make it too hard for just another assault, to the Blood Claw's dismay. Lifting the bolter, Krayl took aim at the closest of the spores and squeezed.
A trio of barks from Krayl's bolter echoed across the snowscape. For the smallest moment, everything stopped. The spores stopped in the air. The warriors ceased loosening the earth. Even the small larva-like creatures came to a halt. Krayl smiled for a moment as one of his shots seemed to pierce what he thought was the nearest spores' armor. Then everything came to life again.
The spore seemed to deflate for a moment, before it quivered and started floating toward him. The sprouts on the spore came to life. The spore's gun-like protrusions fired volley after volley of oversized maggots at Krayl as he backed himself from the crest of the hill. That was when he noticed that, even with the amount of gun spouts on a single one of the spores, there was definitely more impacts of the maggots than even the spore should have been able to make. Poking his head up for the slightest instant, Krayl cursed as he spied his problem. A fourth spore he could not see earlier was coming toward him, and the crest of the hill would not protect him for long from the angle this one was coming at him from.
Krayl dropped all pretenses of subtlety and got up into a full sprint down the hill, screaming curses into his vox bead the entire way down. Though the spores only went as fast he did at a jog, the guns reached as far as Krayl's bolter. The snow around him burst into craters of maggots smashing into the ground around him, their corrosive guts splattering around him as he ran, until finally one found their mark.
The maggot bored straight through Krayl's leg armor, growing rapidly. Krayl tumbled to the ground, grasping at the wound and screaming in agony. As it grew, it broke off its hind quarters behind it as it dug farther into his thigh. The broken piece in turn began to grow and also dug farther into Krayl's augmented flesh. In only a few seconds, Krayl's leg had doubled in thickness, forcing the segments of his power armor to cut into his flesh as it tried to contain the new mass. Finally, the armor and leg beneath burst into a bright red pattern across the snow around him. Krayl felt his Sus-an Membrane begin to activate, drawing him into a life preserving stasis.
The last thing Krayl Leadfoot saw before things went black was the spore drawing closer. As it bore down on him, a high powered beam of energy cut across the sky and tore into the spore. Following the beam two missiles added to the gash the laser tore across its hide. The helium keeping the spore afloat ignited as the spore fell to the ground in a heap of burning alien flesh.
"So the harlot says to the acolyte "Honey, if you're going to sit there you'll either need to pay for the view or my client here would have to pay for you to join in!""
The Long Fangs laughed as Kordek Gaptooth finished his joke as if they were drinking rather than lacing giant alien creatures with heavy weapons fire. The five members of Eggerd's Line Breakers ducked behind the rocks overlooking the Tyranid's position as one of the spores let loose a volley of oversized maggots. The warriors below screeched their outrage at the Long Fangs' presence, turning as one to make their way up the rocks toward them.
Uftarn One-eye responded to the Tyranids, sending a blast from his plasma cannon into their midst. The warrior hit with the worst of the blast shrieked and writhed in agony as the superheated plasma burnt its softer flesh and melted the armored plates along its hide. Still the creature rose again and moved to catch up with its fellows.
"Tough bastards!" Uftarn laughed as he slid back down behind the boulder he used as cover. "Maybe we should try launching the cybernetic genitalia you mentioned Kordek!"
Reaching the edge of the makeshift perimeter the spores formed, the last land speeder of Krayl's pack jetted over the crest of the hill, spilling streams of burning promethium into the swarm of larvae. The larvae scattered in every direction from the warriors as if the land speeder were a ship on the sea.
Eggerd directed the others' fire into the nearest spore that was heading in their direction. The missiles impacted hard, causing it to list to one side in the air. The spore responded with another large volley of the acid gutted maggots. Eggerd looked around at his brothers, pinned down once again by massive volleys of alien brutality. He quieted for a moment before he spoke again. "An Ultramarine, Black Templar, and a Carcharodon walk into a bar…"
Aften's eyes stayed closed. He breathed only as much as he needed to keep his lungs working. Beyond him he could hear the muffled sounds of missiles exploding, carapaces bursting from impacts, the jetting of a distant land speeder. Then laughter.
And they call us Blood Claws crazed.
Aften smirked to himself. Eyes still closed, he listened more. Quiet, but quickly growing louder, he made out the thumping of large hooved feet in the snow. More than one set. As they reached their loudest, he was able to heard Castor's voice in the distance.
"Steelclaw!" The Wolf Guard bellowed his name for all to hear as he rose out of the snow. With his own chainsword in one hand, and that of Krayl Leadfoot's gunner in the other, Castor swiped the toothed blade of one sword across the nearest warrior's gun organ. The organ split open, spilling strange black worms that looked like even smaller versions of the larvae. Ten more armored forms rose from the snow.
The nearest warrior to Aften turned as he stood up, though its hide was badly burnt and one of its scythe arms hung uselessly from plasma charred muscle, it still swiped violently as Aften closed the distance
Lowering its head, the monster charged into him. The monster tumbled to the ground over Aften. As he scrambled to get up, Aften tried to put a few extra feet between him and the warrior. He was right to do so as the creature propelled itself forward, attempting to swipe at Aften as he still recovered. Several barks from a bolt pistol behind him scored holes in the warriors charred body and head. It slid across the frozen earth and snow to Aftens feet. A hand grasped his shoulder plate and helped pull him up.
Bjorn Stormlife laughed wildly in Aften's face as he turned in the direction of his next opponent, another warrior with both of its scythes embedded in either side of one of their pack. Aften followed Bjorn, both firing their pistols as they charged the creature.
The Tyranid, with another set of arms conjoined into a Stranglethorn Cannon, quickly withdrew its scythed limbs from its unfortunate prey and turned toward its new assailants. Its victim fell to the ground limply just in time for several bolts to impact the alien's hide.
Of the numerous impacts from Bjorn and Aten's pistols, only one found its way past the creature's armor, penetrating and exploding in its neck. The wound left behind was a small crater in its flesh. It released a gargling, agonized scream before lumbering at the two.
Its scythe arms seemed to be spring loaded as they wound back and flashed forward at startling speed. Bjorn raised his power sword to strike, only to dive low underneath the scythes. Aften made up the difference, ungracefully bashing the spinning teeth of his chainsword into the creature's abdomen. The Tyranid spun in reaction to the wound swiping again as it turned. This time the scythe hit home, knocking Aften off his feet. He was lucky. The scythe dug into his armor but did not pierce.
Losing grip of his chainsword as he fell, Aften gripped the arm of the creature as it tried to withdraw it. Aften roared in rage at the mark done to his chestplate, firing his pisol pointblank into it again and again until he felt the click of an empty magazine. Another crater or two had the creature slump over him, breathing hard. It lurched upward in a final attempt to eviscerate him with its free arm as Bjorn's sword point erupted from the creature's chest. Stormlife howled in triumph and flicked his wrist sideways. The snow flashed in the tyranid' ichor as the disruption field enveloping his blade tore through the flesh and hide as if there was no resistance at all. The creature collapsed on top of Aften, pinning him to the ground with its size.
Around them the rest of their pack were finishing off the last of the warriors near them. Four more of their number was dead or badly wounded.
Argred walked up, looming over Aften still pinned below the alien corpse. "We still have a lot more killing to do! No time for a nap." Argred looked over Aften again and laughed. "Or another gut bath. "
Aften was once again covered in Tyranid gore and cursing profusely. Twice in one day. He thought, bracing his arms and pushing against the corpse pinning him down. It'll be a decade before I hear the end of this.
Argred and Bjorn both bent down to help him move the corpse before something splashed against Argred's shoulder in a loud sizzle. Both of the standing warriors rolled over the dead Tyranid, knocking the wind out of Aften as it pressed back down against him. Both lay low behind it for cover, returning fire with their pistols. The rest of the pack scrambled, diving into the snow or ducking behind rocks where they could.
"What is it?" Aften yelled up at the two.
"Looks like Leadfoot missed a group in his counting!" Bjorn yelled as the vibration of more wet impacts on the corpse/cover sounded from whatever strange weapons the Tyranids were firing.
The situation quickly was turning dire. Argreds left shoulder plate was pitted and torn from the impact on it, just past him another of their pack mates was even less lucky. Floki Wingback was knocked off his feet by a writhing bundle of black headed worms. Those that did not pierce the seals in his armor burst on impact into acidic gore, pitting the armor and weakening it for others to pierce.
As he struggled to his feet, Wingback was grunting. His face had several puncture wounds all over it. The grunting quickly turned to screams as something beneath his face began to wiggle and writhe. Aften was sickened to see his friend's face ripple as it did. He did not have to watch long however, as Floki Wingback collapsed back to the ground a few seconds later.
Over the bark of pistol and explosion of grenades, Aften made out the distinctive "thunk" of grenades being launched from wide barrel launchers. Over the shoulder of the Tyranid corpse still pinning him to the ground (and the two Blood Claws leaning against it weren't helping him escape from under the corpse) Aften could see the impact of smoke grenades between the Blood Claws and the Tyranids advancing against them. As the smoke spread, the Tyranids fired wildly through it, attempting to rob the pack of any advantage they could use.
The pack cheered, however, at the sight of the real advantage they suddenly got. In a giant metal body, Uthgard the Ancient let loose a furious, vox enhanced roar as he charged headlong into the smoke. Aften caught a glimpse of the massive axe and shield he carried in his hydraulic arms as the smoke enveloped him. The others moved quickly to catch up with the Dreadnought as the sounds of crashing metal and shrieking aliens echoed through the smoke.
Argred paused and turned back to help Aften move the large alien corpse pinning him down. "Just go!" Aften said, bracing his arms again. "I'll be right behind you!" His friend hesitated before resigning to a nod and chasing off after the rest of the Blood Claws.
Aften pressed again, lifting the ten foot monster like an exercise weight. With enough room to free his torso, he shimmied out from beneath the corpse little by little. He was nearly out when a familiar shriek stopped him in his tracks. The even more familiar sound of leathery wings in the cold winds of the planet did not have to tell him what was arriving next. From behind him another large serpent-like creature soared overhead and passed the ridge to where the small larva creatures were.
At only a glance Aften could see the differences between this creature and other flyers they had faced. Unlike a harpy, this thing did not only have wings and a few gun-organs. This creature sported four more of the Tyranid scythe arms. Unfortunately though, these were far larger than those of the Warriors they had faced, or the smaller creatures on board the Iron Mane. Its longer, more muscled, tail ended in a set of sharp mandibles. Its crested head lay on a larger neck, with far more of the white armored plates on its body to protect its blood red flesh.
Aften knew it now that he had seen it in person. This creature was what he had seen in his venom induced fever dream. "Hive Tyrant." He said to no one, as he pushed against the corpse with renewed strength cursing under his breathing and thinking "Why couldn't it just be a daemon?"
"Steelclaw!" Uthgard boomed as he cut the head off a third Tyranid Warrior. Around him one alien creature was bisected, and a third was bleeding out into the snow near them from an equally vicious gash across its body. The other Blood Claws followed suit on the remaining four aliens, following Uthgard's momentum and closing the distances he made safe for them to pass between them and the Tyranids.
"Thought you'd miss all the fun old Jarl!" Castor said as he caught up to Uthgard. The ex-Wolf Lord regarded the Wolf Guard for a moment before continuing.
"Can you handle the rest here so we can finish this?" The dreadnought asked, not waiting for an answer as he began to make his way down the ridge. "That tyrant needs to go down before it causes a bigger problem than it already has."
"If that's the bastard that-" Castor dodged out of the way of another scythe armed swipe before returning the favor with one of his chainswords. "-that's been controlling those Harpies give him one for me!"
The dreadnought waved the axe as if it were a hand in recognition to the Wolf Guard's request, as Castor reasserted his strength with the help of two of the other Blood Claws against the alien that was currently trying to disembowel him.
The land speeder had made three passes on the larvae swarms since the first spore pod went down thanks to fire from Eggerd's Long Fang team. Though three of the four remaining pods were pressing the ridge, one still fired on the speeder whenever it passed. Though their speed kept Jarac Flamespitter and Codden the Bald safe, the speeder was still taking hits it couldn't afford to suffer. Jarac's gunner's side was pock marked and dented from oversized, acid grubs impacting on the speeder's side, and it was listing slightly from one of the jet engines struggling to keep running with damage from the impacts.
Coming around again, Codden banked the speeder hard to come around for another fire spitting pass on the larvae when, as they turned, they were met with the enraged maw of the hive tyrant gliding straight at them. Jarac fired both heavy flamers at the monster as Codden tried in vain to bank out of the way. The flames seemed to go around the Tyrant as it crashed into the speeder. Codden went for his pistol as Jarac kept his finger on the trigger of the side mounted flamer.
A lightning fast swipe of the monster's scythe arm severed Jarac's hand and the entire flamer from the hull as a second of the huge arms speared through his body and out of the bottom of the speeder. The other two arms pierced the speeders hull from separate angles, torqueing the metal apart in screeching tears.
Codden the Bald fired his pistol into the huge Tyranid's face, the shots bouncing off the ridged armor on its head. The tail whipped around, cutting through the armor into Coddens flesh, lifting him and hurling him out of the speeder into the larvae that were not yet burnt. He had not even impacted the ground before they started to jump at him, breaking seals and eating him alive with thousands of teeth from hundreds of mouths.
The Tyranid turned toward the ridge and screeched in victory toward Eggerd and the Long Fangs as they watched it kill their brothers with no effort at all. Unlucky or not for the monster though, they were not the only one watching. The sound of metal crashing against metal over and over drew the sight of both the Tyrant, and the Long Fangs.
Bashing the huge axe against his Blizzard Shield, Uthgard the Ancient strode along the rocks below the ridge, roaring a challenge toward the Hive Tyrant. As it charged the dreadnought, the nearest of the spore pods unleashed a volley of the huge maggots against Uthgard. They mostly spattered harmlessly against the energy of his Blizzard Shield, though one or two did impact on the hull, damaging and weakening the casing.
The spore did not have time to release a second volley, as every weapon in Eggerd's squad worked to blast the spores nearest to the dreadnaught out of the air. "If it is one thing I hate it's an unfair fight!" Eggerd said with a smirk to the rest of the squad. "Three more to go boys! Split fire and keep them hurting!"
The Tyrant crashed into Uthgard with shrieks both alien and hydraulic as both tore at each other with axe and claw. At first the Tyranid pushed Uthgar back, his metal feet sliding in the snow and dirt against the huge strength of the Hive Tyrant. Then they stopped. For a moment, neither moved Then Uthgard pushed back with the shield, swiping with the axe. The weapon seemed to strike home but stopped a few feet from tom the creatures hide.
The Tyrant closed the distance again with its own strikes, slashing against the hull of the dreadnaught or the shields energy field.
Aften, finally free of the corpse pinning him, jogged up the ridge toward Eggerd and his squad.
"Best not to get too close lad!" Eggerd said as he ducked behind another rock. The las cannon next to him let off another loud burst of energy, into one of the spores. The weapon left a smell of burnt ozone that caused the Blood Claw's nose to wrinkle in dislike, but did not stop him from running headlong to the Long Fang's side.
"What's happening down there?" Aften yelled over the shrieks of the creature and the vox-speaker of Uthgard's roars and obscenities coming up the side of the cliff.
Eggerd looked over the edge before being forced to duck back down from another volley from the pods. The rocks were starting to sizzle, from so much acid impacting against them. "Looks like the Big Lord Bug down there has his own energy field of some sort." The pack leader called. "Seems like they're in a stale-"
A loud crash and screech of hydraulics failing informed them both of something wrong. "Oh hell." Eggerd said as he peered over the edge of the cliff.
The Tyranid had gotten a lucky blow, severing one of the dreadnoughts legs. The energy shield of Uthgard's Blizzard shield could take quite a beating, but like any shield would eventual fail with too much pressure. The creature had the shields surface pinned to the ground with one scythe arm and was rearing up the others to pierce his hull.
"Can you kill it?"
Eggerd shook his head. "Not without risking Uthgard. It moves the wrong way and our guns pierce his hull instead of its hide.
Aften looked around. With a devilish grin, he backed up from the rocks. "Just keep the little ones off me!" He yelled. Eggerd had barely enough time to turn and see Aften Giantson, now wielding Floki Wingback's meltagun, go jumping headlong off the cliff toward the Hive Tyrant.
The Hive Tyrant rapidly grew even larger as Aften bore down on it. Letting loose a blast of infrared energy from the meltagun, the Hive Tyrant had no time to try to block the attack with whatever it used to stop the axe. The energy tore up its hide, severing a wing and cooking one of the arms to a useless husk as Aften landed on its back. The monster shrieked in agony and it spun around with the Blood Claw riding it like a Thunderwolf.
Discarding the spent meltagun, grab onto one of the larger spines on the Tyrant's back, and unclipped a krak grenade from his belt. Putting the grenade to his teeth, Aften almost pulled the pin as something large pincered him from above his right shoulder to under his left arm. The Blood Claw tried to spin, gripping whatever was grabbing him, only to find the Hive Tyrants tail in his grasp. Slicing with the chainsword, it only dug into the tough flesh rather than severing it. It tore him from his perch atop the alien and slammed him to the ground. Aften tumbled as he impacted. Surprised that he was not dead, Aften's eyes cleared from the dizzying impact to see the tail whipping limply. His cut must have hit a tendon.
Straining to get up, Aften's weight gave out beneath his left arm as pain jolted all the way up it and into his back. His shoulder must have dislocated from the impact. Trying again with his right arm, Aften pushed himself up. Looking toward the Hive Tyrant, the Blood Claw found the Tyranid was looking back. It regarded him with intelligent eyes, almost seeming to recognize him. On the ground just in front of it lay his krak grenade. The Tyrant looked from him to the swarms of larvae heading toward them both, and then turned back to Uthgard.
Missiles and plasma blasts impacted on the swarms. Aften looked up toward the cliff as all but the las cannon were directing their fire against the swarms. The las cannon cut the air scoring holes into the spore pods and slowing them if not causing them to crash to the ground as the helium inside caught fire.
The Hive Tyrant turned to see Uthgard in a surge of energy lifting himself with his shield arm to swing the axe against the monster. The axe sliced into the creature's chest, severing another arm as it passed. Uthgard ended the swing face down in the rocks, unable to move anymore without both legs to right himself onto.
The Hive Tyrant was sent onto its back from the strike, crashing against the wall of the cliff. Aften took the initiative and sprinted forward. The tail, almost with a mind of its own lashed out toward him almost numbly. He rolled as it speared overhead toward him. With two arms and a wounded tail the Tyranid was trying to push itself upright with the two arms remaining.
Kicking off a boulder, Aften launched himself into Tyrant's face before it could rise too high off the ground. Drawing his serrated combat blade from its sheath, Aften speared the creature's eye and hung from the blade's handle by his dislocated arm. The Tyrant thrashed back and forth attempting to dislodge him. Each pull on his un-socketed shoulder caused him to scream in pain again and cause sparks to show in his vision. Unpinning the grenade with his teeth, he punched it into the Hive Tyrant's mouth and let go of his blade, allowing himself to get flung again to the ground, this time impacting between two boulders.
The krak grenade sparked inside the Tyrants mouth. Its tongue torn off by the force of the explosive, shot out of its mouth along with a shower of fragmenting teeth. The creatures bled profusely from the mouth and slumped against the wall of the cliff next to Uthgard, its brain shredded by bone shot into it by the grenade. Its tail however, still whipped about with a broken tendon. Bjorn Stormlife severed the tail with a slash of his power sword.
One of the other Blood Claws emptied his flamer into the scattering larvae swarm. The last of the pods was burning to the ground, and with no other connection to whatever force drove the Tyranids, the larvae were trying to escape or burrow into the ground.
Castor ordered several of the warriors to make sure of the Hive Tyrant's death by dismembering and burning as much of it as they could. Eggerd and his Long Fang's kept watch over the remaining Blood Claws as they called for support and rounded up the wounded and dead.
His chest on fire, his shoulder and arm sending pain throughout his torso, and a fresh head wound pouring blood into his eye, Aften breathed hard. Or tried to, considering what he expected were broken bones in his chest. Argred walked up to him with a look of utter confusion. "How in the hell did you get down here without passing us?"
"That's not important." Aften said between painful breathes. "What is important? I think I won our bet."
"I've seen that Hive Tyrant twice since that day." Aften's eyes glazed over as they walked on the deck of the Metnadrhjoll. A sudden wild smile came to him as he looked back to Graudon."I've won so far."
"Tyranid's can come back?" The Skald asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Hive Tyrants can." The battle leader shrugged. "They're that important apparently."
Graudon nodded and stared at the deck before looking up with a furrowed brow. "A Blood Claw becoming a Wolf Guard? That's a rarity isn't it?"
"It helps to have a Wolf Lord vouching for you. After retelling what happened to the Jarl, Uthgard insisted that I be put into the Wolf Guard. Considering Jarl Grimfang was in Uthgard's personal retinue when he wasn't encased in metal, he listened. After hearing I jumped off a damned cliff, he put me with a group he uses for hit and run raiding. Now after a decade or two, I lead them and the Jarl's entire scouting and raiding force."
"Quite a tale." Graudon said, still soaking in everything that Aften had told him. "Is it all true?"
Aften stopped and looked at him sidelong. "Now if I told you how it really happened, it wouldn't be "quite the tale" now would it?"
The skald smiled and continued following the battle leader. "Well Aften Coldtouch, if your tale is an example of what I have in store to hear, then I look forward to my time with the Grimfangs."
"Don't get too excited Graudon Brighteye." Aften warned. "You haven't even met the Jarl yet."
"And when I do, what should I expect?"
"Best to take away your own impression of him really. He strikes quite the figure."
"He's that inspiring?" The skald raised an eyebrow again at Aften.
"Oh don't get the wrong impression. He's quite the figure." Aften chuckled to himself, recalling something he wasn't sharing. "I never said what kind of figure. You'll see."
"Well when will I get to do that?" Graudon asked, not impatiently, but simply curious.
Aften stopped at the door and waited for it to unseal. "Right now."
The seals of the door unlocked one by one and pistons hissed. Up until now Graudon did not realize where they were standing. They were outside the war room.