A different dish
An unmeasured time had passed.
Unmeasured because time in the warp flowed at a speed that was beyond
comprehension. One second, one hour, one millennium, all raced past
simultaneously and only stopped when the Chaos Gods willed it.
As Ragnor sat on his dais he could feel the waves of hate radiating from his axe and he grinned. The blood that had been a space marines a few hours earlier was now gone from its surface, leaving no mark upon the unholy weapon. The Axe of Khorne's hunger had been sated but now it's thirst was beginning to return.
As Khorne's chosen, it was his duty to lead the Berserkers into battle, and by being chosen he had been rewarded with the Axe of Khorne and living Chaos armour. The armour fitted perfectly, moulding itself to him, bonding itself to his skin, becoming an extension of his body. The axe contained a bound demon, eternally hungry and lusting for battle.
Beyond Ragnor stood a large portal. A tall gateway that led nowhere - there was no door, just a free-standing arch that hinted at something greater.
Ragnor looked out over the assembled Berserkers. The Berserkers were made up from a rag-tag collection of Marines. Many had be corrupted over time, their hatred fed by a patient Khorne until they could be contained no longer, and then they had been "taken". Some, like Ragnor had been there from the beginning, growing up on a planet inside of the warp, taking life as it came and then taking a patron to help guide them through difficult times. Others were new, having only recently been converted, their armour markings still visible through the coats of blood that had been meticulously applied to their surface. But all were there for the same reason : To spill blood for the blood god.
Ragnor could feel the disturbance in the warp before it made it's presencefelt.
An explosion of light and sound signalled that the warp gate was open. A whirlpool of black and green and purple light, a pathway, taking whoever entered to somewhere else via the warp.
A rather unsafe way to travel - exposed to all of the terrors of the warp.
Ragnor signalled for his men to assemble. It was time for another raid. It was time to spill blood for Khorne.It was time to feed his axe.
The berserkers formed up into lines and Ragnor looked them up and down.
"You will suffice." "Blood for the blood god!"
"Blood for the blood god!" came the reply.
Ragnor turned and lead his men to the portal. There he stopped, hefted his axe and drew his bolt pistol. Then he stepped into it.
Ragnor stepped onto a grassy hill. Below him was a small farmlet and a church. In the distance he could see farmers tending crops and cattle being rounded up. His men stepped out behind him, and they regarded the scene with glassy eyes.
"Everything must die for the glory of Khorne" he commanded.
"Kill....for ....Khorne!....Kill...for....Khorne!" began the chanting as the Berserkers began to march down the hill. What began as a walk turned into a run about half way down as they vied to see who could kill someone first. Berserkers began pushing and shoving, eager to win Ragnors praise for first kill.
Ragnor ran down the hill in the pack, sure in the knowledge that he would get his fair share of killing in today.
The first farmer that they reached had no chance. He looked up from his crop to see over two dozen berserkers cross the last few meters. Within seconds they were upon him, their axes rising and falling far more times than required. The farmer managed only "Our blessed f.." before he was cut down. They swept towards the church.
But before they reached the building, its double doors swung open and about twenty people rushed out, all of them armed with clubs or farm implements.
The berserkers did not pause or slow their stride. They smashed into and through this pitiful collection of people, hacking and blasting as they went. One berserker went down with a pitchfork through the eye, but he was the only casualty on the side of chaos. Then the berserker killing frenzy began... and ended seconds later with the entire mob dead, or in the process of dying.
Ragnor advanced into the building, his men following behind, a couple of them panting from their recent exertion.
The inside was full of candles, all lit, even though it was daylight outside and ample light was coming in through the stained windows. Where the altar should have been was a throne and on that throne was a figure.
Ragnor grinned. Khorne would get alien blood today!
The Genestealer Patriarch raised it's bulky body from the throne and regarded him with cold alien eyes.
More figures began to appear around the edges of the church. Secret passages and doorways downwards were opening and Genestealers began
to fill the room. Ragnor's men howled with glee and charged. The red Berserker armour and the bluish carapace became a swirling purple combat, bodies being spat out only to return to the fray or drop to the floor.
The patriarch remained at the throne, the Genestealers fighting the most furiously when a Berserker got close.
The combat was furious but the Berserkers blood frenzy and Ragnors Axe made all the difference. A furious hatred overcame Ragnor and he cried out in delight as he hacked apart the godless aliens. The axe, sensing the massive bloodshed began to drink deep of the foul alien fluids, recieving it's sustenance fromthe ebbing life forces. The axe rose and fell and at the end of the meelee there was only the Patriarch left, still standing at the throne.
Ragnor's controlled returned to find himself and six other Berserkers the only ones still standing. Genestealers and Berserkers lay dying, twitching on the floor or in pieces and scattered around.
Ragnor tightened his grip on the axe. The fight with the Patriarch would be a personal battle and the Berserkers knew it. They watched on, intent on not missing a thing.
The Patriarch charged. It's clawed feet scrabbling on the hard floor, slipping in the blood and ichor. It was blindingly fast, its claws raking his chest, tearing a hole in the armour. His return attacks were equally fast, the Patriarch having to back off from the combat to avoid the deadly axe. Another strike by the Patriarch, and another dodge as Ragnor feinted low then struck high. As soon as his swing was complete the Patriarch pounced back in claws seeking flesh but only meeting air. Ragnor had anticipated this attack and ducked under it, leaving him behind the Patriarch with it's back exposed. He struck as quickly as possible, the axe biting deep and with each hit the Patriarch was wounded further and unable to avoid the blows. It was time to finish the beast. He raised his axe high and bought it down with all his strength. The Patriarch stiffened as the blow thudded home. It's eyes clouded over and it fell to the floor.
Ragnor looked down on the pathetic alien. The aliens teeth were locked together in a deathly grin. "The only one that will be grinning is Khorne." he sneered.
The six Berserkers began to chant "Blood for Khorne! Blood for Khorne" as they marched out of the church and into the daylight. Ragnor followed behind them, his axe coated in alien blood. The chanting stopped abruptly, which made him look up.
Drifting across the paddocks in from of him was a large organic looking sphere with tendrils dragging along behind it. More were floating down from the sky and the light had begun to fade as thousands more began to fill the sky.
Ragnor looked down at his axe and spoke "Supper just arrived" The Berserkers howled with delight.
As Ragnor sat on his dais he could feel the waves of hate radiating from his axe and he grinned. The blood that had been a space marines a few hours earlier was now gone from its surface, leaving no mark upon the unholy weapon. The Axe of Khorne's hunger had been sated but now it's thirst was beginning to return.
As Khorne's chosen, it was his duty to lead the Berserkers into battle, and by being chosen he had been rewarded with the Axe of Khorne and living Chaos armour. The armour fitted perfectly, moulding itself to him, bonding itself to his skin, becoming an extension of his body. The axe contained a bound demon, eternally hungry and lusting for battle.
Beyond Ragnor stood a large portal. A tall gateway that led nowhere - there was no door, just a free-standing arch that hinted at something greater.
Ragnor looked out over the assembled Berserkers. The Berserkers were made up from a rag-tag collection of Marines. Many had be corrupted over time, their hatred fed by a patient Khorne until they could be contained no longer, and then they had been "taken". Some, like Ragnor had been there from the beginning, growing up on a planet inside of the warp, taking life as it came and then taking a patron to help guide them through difficult times. Others were new, having only recently been converted, their armour markings still visible through the coats of blood that had been meticulously applied to their surface. But all were there for the same reason : To spill blood for the blood god.
Ragnor could feel the disturbance in the warp before it made it's presencefelt.
An explosion of light and sound signalled that the warp gate was open. A whirlpool of black and green and purple light, a pathway, taking whoever entered to somewhere else via the warp.
A rather unsafe way to travel - exposed to all of the terrors of the warp.
Ragnor signalled for his men to assemble. It was time for another raid. It was time to spill blood for Khorne.It was time to feed his axe.
The berserkers formed up into lines and Ragnor looked them up and down.
"You will suffice." "Blood for the blood god!"
"Blood for the blood god!" came the reply.
Ragnor turned and lead his men to the portal. There he stopped, hefted his axe and drew his bolt pistol. Then he stepped into it.
Ragnor stepped onto a grassy hill. Below him was a small farmlet and a church. In the distance he could see farmers tending crops and cattle being rounded up. His men stepped out behind him, and they regarded the scene with glassy eyes.
"Everything must die for the glory of Khorne" he commanded.
"Kill....for ....Khorne!....Kill...for....Khorne!" began the chanting as the Berserkers began to march down the hill. What began as a walk turned into a run about half way down as they vied to see who could kill someone first. Berserkers began pushing and shoving, eager to win Ragnors praise for first kill.
Ragnor ran down the hill in the pack, sure in the knowledge that he would get his fair share of killing in today.
The first farmer that they reached had no chance. He looked up from his crop to see over two dozen berserkers cross the last few meters. Within seconds they were upon him, their axes rising and falling far more times than required. The farmer managed only "Our blessed f.." before he was cut down. They swept towards the church.
But before they reached the building, its double doors swung open and about twenty people rushed out, all of them armed with clubs or farm implements.
The berserkers did not pause or slow their stride. They smashed into and through this pitiful collection of people, hacking and blasting as they went. One berserker went down with a pitchfork through the eye, but he was the only casualty on the side of chaos. Then the berserker killing frenzy began... and ended seconds later with the entire mob dead, or in the process of dying.
Ragnor advanced into the building, his men following behind, a couple of them panting from their recent exertion.
The inside was full of candles, all lit, even though it was daylight outside and ample light was coming in through the stained windows. Where the altar should have been was a throne and on that throne was a figure.
Ragnor grinned. Khorne would get alien blood today!
The Genestealer Patriarch raised it's bulky body from the throne and regarded him with cold alien eyes.
More figures began to appear around the edges of the church. Secret passages and doorways downwards were opening and Genestealers began
to fill the room. Ragnor's men howled with glee and charged. The red Berserker armour and the bluish carapace became a swirling purple combat, bodies being spat out only to return to the fray or drop to the floor.
The patriarch remained at the throne, the Genestealers fighting the most furiously when a Berserker got close.
The combat was furious but the Berserkers blood frenzy and Ragnors Axe made all the difference. A furious hatred overcame Ragnor and he cried out in delight as he hacked apart the godless aliens. The axe, sensing the massive bloodshed began to drink deep of the foul alien fluids, recieving it's sustenance fromthe ebbing life forces. The axe rose and fell and at the end of the meelee there was only the Patriarch left, still standing at the throne.
Ragnor's controlled returned to find himself and six other Berserkers the only ones still standing. Genestealers and Berserkers lay dying, twitching on the floor or in pieces and scattered around.
Ragnor tightened his grip on the axe. The fight with the Patriarch would be a personal battle and the Berserkers knew it. They watched on, intent on not missing a thing.
The Patriarch charged. It's clawed feet scrabbling on the hard floor, slipping in the blood and ichor. It was blindingly fast, its claws raking his chest, tearing a hole in the armour. His return attacks were equally fast, the Patriarch having to back off from the combat to avoid the deadly axe. Another strike by the Patriarch, and another dodge as Ragnor feinted low then struck high. As soon as his swing was complete the Patriarch pounced back in claws seeking flesh but only meeting air. Ragnor had anticipated this attack and ducked under it, leaving him behind the Patriarch with it's back exposed. He struck as quickly as possible, the axe biting deep and with each hit the Patriarch was wounded further and unable to avoid the blows. It was time to finish the beast. He raised his axe high and bought it down with all his strength. The Patriarch stiffened as the blow thudded home. It's eyes clouded over and it fell to the floor.
Ragnor looked down on the pathetic alien. The aliens teeth were locked together in a deathly grin. "The only one that will be grinning is Khorne." he sneered.
The six Berserkers began to chant "Blood for Khorne! Blood for Khorne" as they marched out of the church and into the daylight. Ragnor followed behind them, his axe coated in alien blood. The chanting stopped abruptly, which made him look up.
Drifting across the paddocks in from of him was a large organic looking sphere with tendrils dragging along behind it. More were floating down from the sky and the light had begun to fade as thousands more began to fill the sky.
Ragnor looked down at his axe and spoke "Supper just arrived" The Berserkers howled with delight.