Jaws of the Wolf

by Leman of the Russ

Arnbjorn, a member of the fabled Thunderwolf Cavalry, faces a dire situation. The Thousand Sons have found a way to corrupt the geneseed of fallen Space Wolves and using sorcery to raise them back from the dead to fight their own battle-brothers. He is joined by the Eldar to aid him in his quest. But he must master the beast inside. Can he save his soul as well as his Chapter?

3. Chapter 2

I know this chapter is a bit short, but it was either this or carrying on which would make it really boring. Again, enjoy and commet!

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Two hours later, aboard the Pride of Fenris, Grimar's personal flagship, Arnbjorn and the whole Wolf Guard and Thunderwolf Cavalry; mounts and riders, took their places on the bridge. An entire section of the bridge, an area the size of one of the training halls of the Fang, had been cleared for the Cavalry and their noble steeds. Arnbjorn had hoped to tame his own Thunderwolf before leaving Fenris, but events had moved against him, so he stood by his lord, clad in his Terminator armour, a hulking figure of pure ceramite and adamantium.

Despite his size, he was dwarfed by Grimnar. The Lord of Wolves had a presence that filled the entire room, and an aura of unbreakable confidence. He sat in his throne; resplendent in his armour, his frame suspended mere millimetres from the surface of the stone. "Shipmaster Vignar" he boomed, his voice carried seven hundred years of authority "status report." Vignar, the blonde shipmaster, and a man of Fenris like most of the crew, glanced up from the control lectern to look at his lord. "Engines at full power, all systems at full efficiency Lord, course is locked for jump point insertion." he stated. Grimnar leaned back in his throne. "Very well Shipmaster" he rumbled "As soon as we're in jump range, signal the fleet." Vignar nodded, then returned his attention to the lectern. Arnbjorn turned to the Great Wolf and asked "What would have of me Lord?" Logan looked at him with his ice-like eyes, a thoughtful expression on his granite-like features. "Find Ulrik and bring him to me" he said. Arnbjorn nodded and left the bridge, heading to the lower levels.

Ulrik the Slayer was the High Wolf Priest, the spiritual leader of the Chapter. He was the oldest warrior in the Imperium, baring the ancient Dreadnoughts. It was he that dragged Grimnar off the ice and turned him into the warrior he is today. As he walked down the halls, a klaxon blared, and the entire ship started shaking. "Jump into Immaterium in 10…9…8…" The ship started shaking like a leashed hound, testing its bonds. "7…6…5…4" A faint halo of light had surrounded everything, and the shaking had increased. Arnbjorn feared the ship might shake itself apart before they even the Warp. "3…2…1…Jump!" The ship leapt forward, like a rabid beast breaking free of its leash. There was an almighty howl that flooded the corridor, and Arnbjorn fell to his knees, his gauntleted hands clamped over his ears. He lay there clawing at his ears when he saw an armoured boot land in front of him, as black as Morkai's fur. He looked up and stared directly into the lenses of the Wolf Helm of Russ, its yellow teeth arrayed into a fearsome snarl. Only a Wolf Priest wore the skull helms, and only one Wolf Priest wore the Wolf Helm. "Need a hand there, brother?" the deep, resonate voice of Ulrik the Slayer asked, whilst he offered a hand, his red eye lenses flashing in the light.