Short chapters until I decide what I'm doing with this story, suggestions would be welcome.
Chapter 2:
Warlord McGork The Ork
Achilles had heard the tales about Seralas. But he had never suspected they were still true to this day. He recognized the beast before him, it had been one of the first lessons he had learned, the enemies of the Imperium. He was certain that he was gazing upon the dismembered corpse of a hated Ork, long time enemies of the Imperium. If it hadn't been almost cleaved in two by what looked like the wounds one would receive from a chain weapon, then Achilles would have had to kill it himself.
Xenos species were not to be suffered under any circumstances, even cooperation with the ancient Eldar was rare and often ended in treachery and war. He knew from memory that both the Orks and the forces of chaos had throughout the past ten thousand years continually tried to settle the planet. He knew that they had fought bitter and bloody wars between the two races.
But the last recorded presence of Orks on the planet was over two hundred years ago. Immediately the thoughts began racing through his mind. He noticed the bolter and chain axe that had fallen beside the body, this meant the ork was not some abandoned savage orc, but one of the recognised and feared clans. He wondered if there were more and what could have killed him. Could there also be forces of the Ruinous Powers present on the planet and what would it mean for the Hive City of Kullkera if they were here to wage war.
The Hive City had been founded only a hundred and fifty years earlier. They maintained a planetary defence force of some half a million troops and an Imperial Guard garrison of a further one hundred thousand. For the fifty million inhabitants of the industrial hive city it would mean a bitter struggle. He stopped himself from thinking further. There could be any number of reasons for the greenskin's presence, and he did not have time to dwell on all the possibilities. He would inform the company captain upon his return. It was the best he could do, as he had no means of communicating with anyone.
Achilles debated the wisdom of taking the Ork's weaponry. But time was of the essence and the lighter his load the faster he would travel. He decided against it, leaving the blood covered weapons where they lay on the ground. He had been concentrating so much on the matter at hand that he had not heard the approaching footsteps, his usually keen senses only picking up the cacophony of sound that came from the jungles inhabitants.
Suddenly at the last moment he turned, almost like a sixth sense had told him he was in mortal danger. His reflexes were razor sharp as the chain sword wielding ork charged at him, waving the blade above his head, the beast's intention was to decapitate the human meal it had stumbled upon. Achilles dived clear of the deadly weapon, rolling onto his feet and readying his weapon. The beast was massive, its rough green skin was dark and leathery, its frame massive and imposing.
Achilles couldn't help but notice the shear size of the beast. Its arms were thicker than his waist. The tusk like fangs jutted from its lower jaws, it bared a row of razor edge teeth as it saw Achilles look in fascination upon the creature. The beast was pure savagery, it wielded weapons of technology, but at heart the ork race was a barbaric and savagely violent culture that destroyed everything in its path with little thought for those they prayed upon. He had to wonder in that moment what could be worse than this abomination that charged towards him.
Worse yet, there were others behind him, dozens, the shouts of rage rang throughout the jungle as what seemed like an army descended upon him. Achilles sprang to his feet, he hesitated only for a second and then turned and ran, faster than he had ever run before. The shouts from behind him grew louder and more numerous, he had to wonder at just what he had stumbled upon. Perhaps they were an entire warband, or an army come to wage war against the Hive City or there old enemies. Wild firing Orks shot their bolters in a barrage of fire that only sought to anger Warlord McGork.
They had ruined his kill, the loathsome, useless, mewling scum. He'd deal with them later. He had a humie to catch. For his size he was fast, but Achilles was far swifter. He traced his steps back hoping to reach the clearing for some unknown reason, surely he didn't hope to stop and take stock of the situation. All he could think was I'm running in the wrong direction and how many Orks were between him and Kullkera. To be slaughtered by this Xenos vermin was not something he had anticipated when he began his initiation.
He seemed to be putting some distance between him and the Orks, but the sight that met his eyes once he was close to the clearing made his heart sink with terror. Literally hundred of Orks seemed to be searching the area. A thought struck him, perhaps they had seen the Thunderhawk landing and had come to investigate. He turned to change direction but quickly realized he was trapped, they were all around him now. Before he could react McGork had felled him with a savage blow that knocked out two teeth and sent him sprawling onto the ground unconscious.
The shouts and cries of victory made McGork sick to his stomach. These damn inbred fools needed combat, a real war if they were ever going to remove the shame of losing the war against the foul ones. But then that was why they had returned, his clan would have their war of that he had no doubt, but were these pathetic weakling humans up to the task of providing enough entertainment. The one at his feet had gone down like a snotling slave. He licked his lips in anticipation, the thought of bringing destruction to the humans was something he could grind his fists into, something he could hammer, decapitate and destroy. McGork felt a sense of relief, no chaos boyz anywhere, but a whole human city to pillage, plunder and destroy, he was really only happy when there was carnage to be had.