Well, here is my first attempt at writing a Warhammer fanfic ever, so I hope that whoever is reading this likes it...

This isn't going to become a regularly updated story but leave a review if you'd like to see more of it, this is really just so I can see if I'm doing it right... I really only posted this because my other story's aren't going to be updated for a long time and I've had this in reserve for a while and I hope it can quench whatever thirst people might have...

This was really just me getting bored and writing about my favorite Space Marine Legion, the Death Guard... before the heresy of course so you can stow your Bolters and Chainswords as well as call off the heretic hunt you've no doubt sent my way...

Without further adieu, the first chapter of A Dead Redemption... I'm terrible at titles so give me a break

Naughtbeast

Chapter 1:

You are my unbroken blades… you are the Death Guard…

These words… these were the single driving force of one of the most dangerous and formidable legions that were under the Emperors control during the Great Crusade… these were the words of Mortarion, Primarch of the Death Guard of Barbarus, the XIV Legion. These words that once so fondly roiled their minds, would bring them to the ruinous powers of Chaos and turn them from the eyes of the holy Emperor of Man. During the dark times known as the Horus Heresy, those of the Death Guard were pulled from the path of righteousness by their corrupted Primarch… or was so with the countless thousands of their legion. Though there were some that stood against the heresy that was instigated by their Primarch, they could not stand against the combined forces of the traitor legions and were all but destroyed… or so was thought.

As was known throughout the Legions, Mortarion was always accompanied by at least two of his personal bodyguards, the Deathshroud. They were personally selected by the Primarch himself after showing skill, fearlessness and endurance above all their peers, being inducted without consent and are marked as Killed in Action on all official records. That is why, when the official records came through in regards to the Death Guard, they were correct in saying that no loyalist Death Guard still remained alive… for the Deathshroud are the embodiment of death. The Death Lord, Mortarion, had brought 8 Deathshroud personally with him throughout his mission to join with the Warmaster Horus, although only 7 accompanied him to the end of the Warmaster's plan. While the Warmaster's fleet was stationed above Isstvan III, Mortarion tasked who he considered to be the most loyal to him unto watching Battle-Captain Garro through the ensuing days of the Warmaster's plan, the Deathshroud remaining loyal unto his Primarch until the very last moments, those in which the bombs were dropped.

As the Deathshroud watched from the dulled observation glass of a Death Guard cruiser, just as the vast clouds of green enveloped the world below him, a world he knew on which thousands upon thousands of his brothers were now in battle, he knew right there and then what he would have to do. He watched as the clouds of Life Eater virus begin to dissipate, only for the crimson beam lancing from the prow of the Warmaster's own flagship to ignite the vast expanse of ground beneath him in a viral plume of death and destruction. In those moments, he knew that his lord would have never been oblivious to this, the heresy that was unfolding beneath him… the demi-god he had served under faithfully for so many centuries was no longer the person he had sworn his allegiance to… he refused to serve under this corrupted hero.

Leaving his station of watching Garro, he silently made his way through the depths of the cruiser, never being seen once and leaving a wake of death behind him to all those he had deemed to be heretics. His new mission, one that he would hold true to for the rest of his ordeal, was to stay true to his god, the Emperor, and warn those who still held true to the Imperium. As he swept through the mute corridors of the cruiser, he felt the trademark lurch of his stomach when the ship accelerated into battle stance and he found his way to the nearest observation port to see the lances of the cruiser he was stationed on fire at another Death Guard vessel, that marked with the large High Gothic mark of the Eisenstein.

He refused to watch as more of his battle-brothers were murdered at the hands of his mislead Primarch, moving faster and with more purpose towards his objective, the landing bays of the cruiser. After making his way to the hanger, he commandeered a Thunderbird, an easy task considering that no crewmember besides Mortarion and the other Primarchs (And of course the Emperor) held any power over him, then flew the ship without pause straight for the smallest warp-capable ship in the fleet, the Indomitable. His Thunderbird docked in the hanger, the Deathshroud being greeted by four Death Guard Astartes who he commanded to escort him to the main command deck. As he arrived, he ordered a meeting of all Astartes and non-vital crew, the command deck being filled within minutes. He silently observed each of them, looking into the eyes of fellow battle-brothers and traitors alike, silently laughing as he watched the mortal crewmembers shift and tremble underneath his iron-cold gaze.

The next moments were filled with what the Deathshroud dubbed as a 'necessary' cleansing, mercilessly cutting down those he knew would never see reason to disobey the word of the Primarch with two strokes of his Manreaper, leaving him with only 1/3rd of the original crew, none being Astartes. The Deathshroud instructed them on his plan, taking longer than he would have liked to, due to his honoured position which prevented him from speaking. As his plan was put into action he sent a simple message over the Vox to Mortarion with simple intentions.

Tracking the traitor my lord… I shall see that your word is carried out

He never waited for a response as the Deathshroud gave the order to begin and they were taken into the warp, heading straight for the one thing he never through he would see… Holy Terra. The months that followed were nothing short of strenuous as the forces of Chaos tried to stop the craft form ever reaching its destination, something that the Deathshroud had to make sure would never happen. He defended tooth and nail against Chaos as he was one of the only capable fighters left on the small ship, running out of ammunition in the first week and losing all but 12 of his crew until their craft broke through the immaterium and came into being on the fringes of the asteroid belt… something he would regret soon enough. The second the ship crashed out of the warp, a message told him of the death of the psyker navigator, something he didn't really care about… but another thing is that it alerted him to the entire armada of ships that was currently aiming just about every gun they had on his ship.

The Deathshroud quickly fired off a message to the closest of the ships, glad to receive a reply that told him of their plan. His ship was taken under the wing of the remaining loyalist legions, their daring escape being in vain as it was found that Battle-Captain Garro had made hast to Terra and warned the loyalists of Horus' plan. The remaining Deathshroud was tasked with being part of the battle group with the Blood Angels, fighting alongside them during the siege of the imperial palace and further into the corridors of the mighty fortress after the wall was destroyed by traitor titans. He fought valiantly throughout the campaign and survived until the very end, joining the Blood Angels in their last efforts of attack, breaking any semblance of cover or defence to run full-boar at the enemy and kill them where they stood.

After the battle had concluded, the Death Guard that he had pledged his allegiance to was all but gone, although the Deathshroud made a pact that day to never lay down the mantle of the legendary protector of the Primarch and strove to uphold the mantles that the original Death Guard had set. During the scouring of Terra to remove the last remnants of Chaos' grasp from its depths, the Deathshroud was found by a sect of the Emperor's guard and taken into questioning. After two days of torture and questioning to seek the answer to whether the Death Guard had any corruption tainting his soul, he was released and taken to the fortress moon of Titan, circling the vast planet of Jupiter. He was offered the position into a new legion of Astartes, those dubbed as the Grey Knights, a new Chapter that was devoted to the rooting out the source of all taints of Chaos. The Deathshroud accepted his role as a new member of this order, although he refused to lay down the mantle of his responsibility as one of the last to uphold the customs of the Death Guard.

One of the order's highest ranking members, Battle-Captain Garro, sought out the Deathshroud and gave him a last line of retribution for his Legion's heresy. After hearing what Garro had to say, the Deathshroud accepted his new duty and was inducted into the legion of the Grey Knights informally and was assigned unto the protection of the Sisters of Silence, allowing him to root out the heresy of Chaos' taint while providing protection to those who had lost so much during the time of the heresy. He was gifted Aegis Terminator armour by the Grey Knights, a specially designed system to ward him against the terrors of the warp, and was sent to join the Sisters of Silence on their journeys.

The three centuries of service that followed were of redemption for the Deathshroud, despite never being accepted as a true loyalist by the Sisters, he gained the knowledge that he was continuing the true legacy of the Death Guard.

And now was no different… donning his wargear for yet another mission into the depths of a Chaos tainted Space Hulk, the Deathshroud's mind wandered to the darkest moments of his Legion's history. He reminisced the times of his service for his true Death Lord as the many servitors strained to bolt the massive chestplate of his Tartaros pattern Terminator armour over the tangled mass of enhanced muscle bundles, struggling to lift the nearly 1 tonne piece of ceramite and plasteel to set it in place. His armour was made by the master artificers of Mars, the Deathshroud overseeing the making of his plate to ensure that it was keeping with the standards of the Death Guard, the armour being an exact replica of those worn by his brothers before they sided with Chaos.

The entire armour was artificered with half an inch of extra ceramite, a sound-dampening fabric being woven into the under-armour to ensure that the massive, master-worked plate made no noise at all, even when in the presence of an Astartes improved senses, something that could be accomplished by the Deathshroud even without the enhancements. The armour with no special adornments of accolades being put into the armour other than those of the golden Aquila being emblazoned on the front of his breastplate, the Crux Terminatus on his left pauldron and the dark sign of the original Death Guard burned into his right pauldron, the armour coloured the dark sky-grey that was iconic of the Death Guard, with the deep sea-green as the armours added adornment.

As soon as the servitors were finished attaching his armour, he bolted his helmet into place, hearing the satisfying hiss of the seals locking into place, brushing the servitors away with a slight movement of his arm and sent them reeling as he strode from the upright gear-setting table. Despite the massive bulk of the Terminator armour, making him roughly 8-foot tall, he moved with complete silence and perfection, the great size of his boots making no sounds on the metal of the ship he was stationed on, although the Deathshroud did hear the creaking and groaning of the support columns underneath him that struggled to hold his weight.

The armour he wore would normally make the wearer slow and sluggish, sacrificing speed for sheer un-breakability, although the Deathshroud had perfected the use of the Terminator armour to make them silent and quick, allowing him to move at often a faster pace than a normal mortal running while he was just casually walking, being able to keep pace with even the

His large form made it silently to the weapons rack of his personal room, taking all that he would need from it. He had distained the use of integrated weapons in his Terminator armour, preferring the use of free-hand firing and melee. He reached over and took his favoured ranged weapon from its place on the brass couplings of the weapons rack, a Mk IV Ultra Pattern Relic Bolter with his special enhancements. It was stained the same bone-grey of the Death Guard, having dark brass fitting where it was necessary, the Deathshroud fitting personal modifications such as a drum barrel and ensuring that all rounds in his magazine were armour piercing, preferring to not wait for the last meagre couple of bolts to give him extra penetrating power. With a casual glance, he looked through the drum that was in the weapon and picked up 4 more, giving him a total of 400 rounds, each clip holding specialised rounds, from Kraken bolts to Vengeance rounds that could tear through Power Armour like it was nothing.

He mag-locked the bulky rifle to his right thigh, the weapon still looking small compared to the massive armour, then moved onto his next armament, his melee. His Relic Chainsword was covered in runes and wyrds, each adding to the weapons already overpowered cutting power, the adamantium teeth being able to cut through solid ceramite, something he had seen too much of during the Horus Heresy. He performed a few practice swings, the blade being roughly the length of a short-sword when compared to the gigantic form of the Terminator armour, although still a large weapon when handed to normal mortals. He mag-locked it onto the right side of his belt and moved onto his last and final armament, the staple of the Deathshroud… his Manreaper.

The colossal scythe sat nestled in the grasp of a mannequin, barely held up by the brittle construction of the frame, the Deathshroud moving silently to collect the weapon that had claimed so many lives in its centuries of service. It was still the same weapon he had been gifted by the Death Lord himself, the blade just as sharp and deadly as the day he had first slain with it. The weapon stood perhaps a head taller than even him in full Terminator plate, the blade itself being at least 3-feet long. A spike guard protected his hands near the blade, as well as housing the power generator that would coat his blade in ionized particles so he could cut through bone armour like tissue paper. The scythe had been altered slightly, having movement pins put into place so that it would fold from the blade and the centre of the handle and change into a small 3-foot long bundle that he could mag-lock onto his back, made because of the unwieldiness of carrying the weapon constantly. The Deathshroud ran his finger along the blade, smiling as he saw that even that simple act would sheer a small amount of ceramite from his armoured fingers.

With a causal flick of his wrist, the great scythe collapsed into its compact form and he locked the weapon onto his lower back, just beneath the hulking mass of his curved power pack. Just as the Deathshroud was about to leave, he received the mission details and the layout of the Space Hulk, something that he would have to alter his loadout for. As he saw the wide-open spaces of some of the cargo-bays, he decided that carrying an Assault Cannon would help deal with those that he wouldn't be able to accurately fire with just his Bolter, so with the added help of the hastily swept away servitors, he connected the weapon to his right gauntlet, collecting the ammunition magazine and loading the weapon, seeing the small reticule appear on his Heads-Up Display. As an added safety net, two krak grenades were magnetised to his belt just in case he needed the extra fire-power. He swiftly left his personal chamber and headed straight for the loading dock.

One thing that he had grown accustomed to on the shipboard days of being with the Sisters is the amount of noise that was generated on board the ship… or more the lack of. As he moved, the only noise that penetrated the cavernous halls through which he walked was only that of the straining support columns and the slight hum of the engines far below. Even as he was walking, his heightened Astartes senses managed to hear the slightest of shifting fabric behind him which alerted him to the presence of a Sister that had fallen into step behind him. He continued in his course, passing many stations that were manned by aspirants of the Sisterhood, making as little noise as they could but not even being near the levels of stealth that true Sisters displayed. He arrived at the door to the loading docks, pressing his gauntlet against the scanning computer and opening the door in front of him, the Deathshroud resuming his silent mission towards the preparing Sisters of Silence.

His footfalls were halted when he came to the edge of a small circle of Sisters preparing their battle wyrd's, the small humming of their vocal cords echoing around the chamber they were in. The Deathshroud watched on in mute acknowledgement until they finished, standing and preparing their weaponry. He made his way to the craft they would be travelling to their location in, an unarmed Thunderbird built for speed, standing near the bay door and waiting for the others to finish. After the sound of weapons clatter and bolter breeches being cleared stopped, the Sisters silently made their way up the ramp of the Thunderbird. He followed once the last of their small part was aboard, exactly 20 including the Deathshroud, strapping himself into the large acceleration bracer specially designed to accommodate him. As the lights in the ship cut out and the landing door began rising, a Novice spoke above the din to relay the orders, probably on the request of the Oblivion Knight leading their mission.

"We are to be going into a derelict Space Hulk under orders to find and kill a rogue psyker who was responsible for a massacre on a Forge World three days ago… we will begin the mission as a strictly close combat procedure to ensure we reach the main atrium with as little resistance as possible… once the deed has been completed, we will be extracted via a breach that will be made two corridors from the command deck… contact is to be made in 2 minutes from now and extraction shall be made exactly 10 minutes after contact" spoke the petite voice of the Novice, being silenced after there was nothing else to say.

As soon as the Deathshroud heard that it was to be a silent mission, he looked down at the vastly oversized Assault Cannon on his right arm, knowing he couldn't take it off here without damaging something he just left it where it was and spun the barrels idly. As he felt the craft leave the ship, being shunted into the vacuum of space by the launch procedures, he looked to see a Sister of Silence motioning at him in ThoughtMark, the sign language used by the Sisters in conversations.

"Your armament leaves much to be desired Astartes, how can you hope to stay within the mission parameters whilst hefting such a weapon as an Assault Cannon?"

"Well Sister, it would seem you have not been into battle by my side as of yet… I can be as silent as your kin when the need arises…" he responded in a broken ThoughtMark, being limited by only having one hand free.

The Sister nodded, pulling her airtight mask over her face as the red battle lights came on inside the Thunderbird to indicate they were nearing the objective.

For the Emperor and the Death Guard…

A dull thunk was heard as the Thunderbird docked against the side of the Space Hulk, the loading door lowering to reveal the hull of the Space Hulk they were meant to board. The Deathshroud unclasped from the harness and reached over to the side of the door, taking out a plasma torch and began burning through the thick hull of the ship. After 30 seconds of torching, he cut a hole large enough to fit his massive bulk into the side of the hull and kicked the steel, the sound of the steel clattering being mute in the void of space. He stepped through the breech, initiating the magnetic locks on his boots to keep him on the ground while he swept his Assault Cannon across the wide room that greeted him until he was sure there were no hostiles. He stood to the side as the Sisters jumped through, moving nimbly through the air in the zero G environment while they all made for the large walkway that was towering over the hanger. Once the last left the ship, he sent a small pulse through his neural processors which alerted the pilot of the dropship to leave, the Deathshroud de-activating the magnetic locks on his boots and kicking off to move his large form across the deck of the ship.

He grabbed onto a guard railing, nearly bending it off from the weight behind his momentum, to stop himself from passing the door that the Sisters were now trying to get past. He patiently waited for the deed to be completed and as he was watching, he spied a door on the opposite side of the hangar open and four traitor guardsmen came out in full vacuum gear holding lasguns while having the dark sign of Chaos emblazoned on their flak armour. The Deathshroud made their presence known as he tapped on the shoulder of the Sister's designated sniper and a few moments later, four keened knives were flying through the hollow vacuum at blinding speeds and found their mark in the throats of the four heretics. The Deathshroud was used to this sort of perfection from the Sisters, wasting no ammunition in places it was not needed, no extra effort taken to produce a slight bit of kill-glee, it was all for perfection and the completion of the mission… a complete polar opposite to the loud and often kill-urge fuelled antics within the ranks of the Death Guard Astartes.

Once the door was breached, they continued through the hollow and empty hallways of the Space Hulk, moving at speeds that would rival a hurricane. The Deathshroud in his heavy Terminator wargear brought up the rear of the assault squad, ensuring that every door they came through was hastily closed and each possible sign that they had been spotted were quelled. He was closing yet another door when he heard the trademark thunks of bolter fire and looked ahead to see a Sister of Silence floating back through the corridor with multiple las marks on her breastplate, quite obviously dead. He kicked off the door and propelled himself through the corridor until he came across the disturbance, finding that the Sisters were currently engaged in combat with hundreds of traitor guardsmen who were hiding behind the dull consoles of the ships command deck. He watched as two Sisters were making their way towards the centre podium, where a seemingly regular-looking guardsman was speaking a mute prayer as Warp energies flowed around him.

The Deathshroud immediately went into action, spinning up the Assault Cannon on his arm and letting rip with the near 100-round per second firing speed of the weapon. The bullets absolutely tore through the metal of the command consoles and went straight into the bodies of traitors that were foolishly trying to hide behind the useless cover. They soon discovered their mistake as no matter how thick they though the metal was, it could never hope to protect them as the literal bullet storm tore through everything and left death in its wake, the traitors being torn limb-from-limb as body parts flew in the zero-gravity environment spewing dark red blood everywhere. The hundreds of guardsmen were instantly scattering to behind the thicker bulkheads of the Space Hulk, although when they assessed the damages, they really only had around 30 men who were able to fight.

The Deathshroud forgot about the weak prey that had fallen beneath his guns and turned to see the Sisters engaged in a battle against the bodyguards of the chanting traitor, four large Thousand Sons Astartes. Just as he kicked off, a traitor guardsman had re-activated the artificial gravity from a terminal and the Deathshroud was sent sprawling to the floor from the massive weight of his armour. Quickly pulling himself to his feet as a few las rounds impacted harmlessly on his armour, spinning his Assault Cannon and tearing another five traitors within a second. He turned his attention back to the task at hand and quickly sprinted up the metal steps to the command gate to see the two Sisters still engaged in melee combat with the guardsman's bodyguards. He spun up his Assault Cannon and waited for the right opening, pulling the trigger for a mere second and filling one of the bodyguards with enough bullet holes to turn him into a sponge.

As he finished with the burst of fire, he looked down at his ammo counter and found there to be only 12 shots left of the perhaps 1000 he carried into the battle. Taking a few seconds to detach the Assault Cannon, the Deathshroud drew his chainsword and revved the engine and relished the sound of the weapon's adamantium teeth spinning at blinding speeds to make it seem as though it was one solid cutting blade. As he was about to head for one of the bodyguards, his attention was drawn to the chanting guardsman as his unintelligible babbling was coming to a loud climax as dangerous warp energies surrounded him and a small portal came into being in front of him.

The Deathshroud launched himself full-boar at the guardsman, slamming aside the three bodyguards as they feebly tried to halt him… a futile gesture when trying to halt a charging Terminator. He charged straight through the portal that was slowly coming into the materium and slammed into the Guardsman, sending him flying into the nearest wall and hearing his bones break. The Deathshroud didn't let up on his attack and grabbed the man by the throat and lifted him up, continuously slamming into the wall behind him and denting the metal. All throughout the onslaught, the man continued to chant through a blood-filled throat and the Warp energy began gathering into his hands. The Deathshroud stepped up his game and brought the chainsword to arms, placing it up against the man's chest and revving the blade, cutting straight through his body and severing his connection to his lower organs, splattering the wall with red.

Despite now being half a person, the traitor continued chanting and his hands now glowed a dark purple and, once his chanting ended, he placed them both on the head of the Deathshroud before spitting out his solitary last words.

"Now it is your turn to be sent to a world full of Daemons… not even someone like you can withstand the Warp forever!"

The Deathshroud ended the man's life by tightening his grip around his neck and crushing it completely, dropping the man's lifeless body to the floor as he did a quick check on himself. Somehow, the man had breached the Aegis shielding of his Terminator plate and Warp energies were swirling around his body, the Deathshroud feeling a faint other-worldly presence filling his mind.

Pain surged through him as the warp began to take more precedence and he fell to one knee, feeling the full weight of his armour bear down upon him and a strange constriction flowing over him. He turned and saw the two Sisters of Silence finish of the bodyguards and turn to face him, their impassive masks betraying any showing of emotion. He knew what had to be done and he knew it would have to happen eventually.

He handed the Bolter over to one of the Sisters, aiming the stubby barrel underneath his chin, right were his armour was the weakest and there was no chance of him surviving. The two Sisters both gave the sign of the Aquila, a last vestige to his commitment to the Emperor, but he left it unanswered as he pulled the trigger, ending his life before the Warp could claim his soul… he would never let that happen.

As Deathshroud's lifeless body collapsed to the floor, the metal grating of the command deck denting from the weight, the Sisters witnessed a strange sight. As the warp energies retreated back to the immaterium, they saw pure, holy light begin to shine upon the corpse, the light being too strong to look at for long. It spread across his body, coating all that was part of the once-man until, in a blinding flash of gold, his body disappeared to the depths of the immaterium, never to be seen again. After this battle, the Sisters wouldn't even be able to log the sacrifice made by the Space Marine… for who can attest to having a dead man fight with you.