Disclaimer: I do not own warhammer or anything in the universe.
Isley took a deep breath, allowing the toxin filled air to circulate through his lungs. His helmet's filter had been damaged during the first days of fighting since the initial betrayal. It served little more function than added protection. Terminator armor may have had high defenses but it was not unbreakable. He could literally taste the death in the air on his tongue. He looked towards the horizon at the slowly encroaching wave of white and blue approaching. He could hear their various curses and chants being carried by the wind. As if to further demoralize their already weary seemed infinite in comparison to their ever dwindling numbers.
The Raven Guard had been hit hard at the beginning not as much as their fellow loyalist legions but hard enough to strike a mortal blow. The last eighty days had been no better than to them either. He had seen many brothers too overwhelmed by grief and depression take their own lives. Others too broken by the horrors inflicted upon them threw themselves into the enemies blades. Each death took a toll on his heart. This was not the way they were to die.
He looked over at his personal retinue. The Deliverers as they had been dubbed. The Terminator guard of the Raven. Whereas the other legions Honor Guard comprised solely of their terminator units the XIXth legion was different. They preferred stealth and subterfuge as such bulky units such as themselves saw no action. They would only be called in during times of heavy battle which needed a frontal assault. Times such as these. They once numbered over a hundred legionnaires now they were at less than twenty . Most of them lost during the first retreat from the traitors.
Most of their number were still young bloods, warriors not even part of the company for more than two centuries. Many of the veterans had fallen earlier. Only nine of them remained. He had separated them into small command squads in hopes of the older brothers being able to teach the younger generation in hopes of their survival. This seemed very unlikely.
His command squad consisted of his personal champion Anku and the young Xicor. He had joined their ranks over a hundred years ago and showed much promise. Receptive and steadfast. He would make a fine legionnaire in the future. Well he would have if not for what awaited them.
Their gene father after days of retreat had finally ordered them to halt. It was time now. This was where they would make their final stand. This is where the Raven would take its final flight. They would all die here today. That he was certain..but they would die blade in hands killing the traitors. He brought his relic blade to bear, examining it one last time.
Raven's Cemetery was the name he had given it. Crafted by one of the legion's finest tech marines in the flames of the Mars forge.. The weapon was a falchion with an ebon colored blade and hilt fashioned into the guise of Raven Claws. Wrapped tightly into the pommel were the Corvia of fallen brothers.
That was where the weapon's name came from. It was the final resting place of the memories of brothers long gone.
This would be its last battle . Isley summoned the remains of his Deliverers. When the final battle came they would fight as one. One major force alongside their Primarch to bring vengeance upon those who wronged them. Though they may die today..the traitors would know their scorn.
No words were needed. They knew what was to come. Anku readied his lightning claws.
Xicor checked his combi Bolter. The others followed suit, checking their own weapons. He looked up at his lord as he surveyed the field and smiled beneath his helm. So be it. "Victorous Aut mortis!" He yelled, rallying his forces. They responded in turn meeting chanting their legion mantra.
When the fighting finally came, they were at the forefront where their skills would have more use. He wielded Raven's Cemetery in tantrum with his bolter. He gunned down a charging world eater, dumping four rounds into the warriors bare chest, bursting both his hearts, and leaving massive bloody craters in his ruined torso. He swung his blade in his other hand, disarming another before parting his head from his body with a clean swing.
Xicor and Anku were at his side as always, protecting his blind side. Anku met the enemy head on, matching their aggressiveness and curses with his own silent ferocity.
He tore into his enemies. His claws parted through power armor with ease, rending both flesh and bone. He was a killing cyclone leaving bloody destruction in his wake. Xicor was methodical yet brutal as he fought. He kept the world eaters at bay with his storm bolter. A bloodied world eater had somehow managed to weather the storm and went to attack him from his side.
The Young Deliverer, without breaking his stride, dispatched him with a lethal back hand from his power fist. The World Eater's head exploded into a bloody mist, his headless body falling to the ground.
Though for every one they killed, four more took their place. They were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers alone. They were still tired from the battles before and would not last very long in a battle of attrition and savagery.
He watched brother Xemnas defend the still form of one of the younger warriors . He fought fiercely wielding his thunder hammer with expertise. Each swing took with it the life of another traitor. Alas he eventually found himself overwhelmed. A traitor's blade found his right knee joint, bringing him down. From here they surged, pouncing upon him and his fallen brother. They tore into him. Terminator armor could defend against anything but against the strength of hundreds of crazed Astartes pulling on limbs and hacking with blades..it made no difference. He heard his death cries..ringing in his ears.
They were losing slowly. Warriors were being surrounded and overwhelmed. Brother separated from brother and left to fend for themselves against near endless enemies. He found many of his warriors had come to join the rank and file astartes, having lost their own squadmates.
He gripped his weapon tightly as he prepared to face his end. However as he began to resign himself to his fate, explosions tore through the enemy lines.
World Eaters were consumed in fiery hazes. Armour and Dark Mechanicus monstrosities riddled to nothing by heavy gun salvos. This made no sense. Their air support had long since been shot down during the first days of the treachery yet as he looked up there was a single ship, bearing their legion iconery. Hope still remained for them yet.
Through his vox he heard Corax speak with the commander of the ship. Branne Nev?! But he had been left behind to watch over their home world. This made no sense. Why was he here? Regardless his arrival was a blessing in disguise. They now had the means to escape from this losing battle. They had their window. Their forces slowly began to retreat towards the ship, taking fire as they did so. Brothers dragged those too injured to go on. Many were sadly left behind in their retreat. None being able to spare the time to save them. This pained his soul..leaving them to the enemy's devices.
However as he neared the ship he saw just how their retreat had affected them. The enemy was gaining now that they had little resistance. They moved with the swiftness, snatching any stragglers too far behind from the bulk of the main group. Some needed to stay behind to ensure that the others made it to safety. To ensure that Lord Corax and the legacy of the Raven Guard lived to see another day.
Isley stopped, turning away from their salvation and moving towards the enemy. His Deliverers or what remained of them were the first to notice, following his lead almost instinctively. They all knew what needed to be done. They knew the sacrifice that needed to be made.
His helm's vox crackled, the voice of his gene-sore buzzing in his ear.
"Isley what are you doing?! Get to the ship! No son of mine will be left behind!" yelled Corax. Isley smiled beneath his helm. His heart felt warmth knowing the care his father had for him. "Forgive me my lord ..but we, The Deliverers, shall stay behind to ensure that you make it safely off world. We can not allow you to fall on this world and end the Raven's journey. Be well. Goodbye…Father." He said as he cut the vox link.
He looked at what remained of his guard. Many were battered and broken. Their armor was damaged and in shambles but their spirits were still unsullied . He saw many of the young ones with them. They had been greatly bloodied by this experience. They had earned their ranks. He could not allow them to die here. Someone needed to continue their legacy.
He placed a hand on the breastplate of Xicor as he approached him. He had little time now. He tore off his Corvia, wrapping it around his blade then handing it to Xicor.
The warrior was hesitant, confused he was certain. "Take it. It is yours now. A dead man has no need for weapons of the living. The time of the old generation has come. You and those that remain of your age must carry on the fight. Now take this blade and go. It is yours. You will lead them now." He stated firmly presenting the blade to Xicor once more. Xicor accepted the weapon, gripping it tightly and joined the rest of the Raven Guard as they fell back. He and the younger Deliverers would serve the legion well. He was sure of it.
Now only he and the remaining older veterans were all that was left. They would hold the enemy off as long as possible until their lord and their brothers escaped. He picked up the power sword of a fallen warrior. It was a bit heavier than his own blade but he would make do. All he had to do was buy time. Him and his small retinue charged into the enemy, meeting them head on. They fought with renewed vigor.
They fought to ensure the lives of their lord and their brothers.
Anku was at his side, fighting alongside him through the enemy ranks. Soon enough they found themselves separated by the enemy. He watched as Anku was engulfed by the enemy horde, lost in the sea of bodies.. He had hoped his death was quick but deep inside he knew..it wasn't.
As he fought he saw his warriors brought down..one by one. Dragged under the weight of the enemy. Soon enough he found himself alone to face the enemy horde.
That was not all. In front of him stood the most Savage of all. Angron, Primarch of the World Eaters, stood in front of him, holding the bloody body of Brother Anku. The Raven Guard had been torn crudely in two, and was hanging by what remained of his one mangled arm. Angron threw the mangled corpse to the side and roared at him.
Isley smiled beneath his helm. What better death than to die by the hands of a Primarch. His final flight would be one of legend. He gripped his blade with two hands and charged forward.
"VICTOROUS AUT MORT-"
Angron bashed the terminator's skull in using his own arm as a bludgeon. He beat down upon the warriors head until it was a bloody paste then threw the limb away. His face twitch, trapped in a permanent scowl. The pain brought forth by the Butcher's Nails was only eclipsed by the ever present rage he felt.
His.."brother"..how dare he not stay behind to face him. He sent his sons to die for him. To die in his place. He would tear Corax limb from limb when he saw him again.
As a Raven Guard fan I have always been interested in their combat doctrine and roles. When i first discovered they too had their own terminator squad I was excited but sad to learn you don't see much of them in lore. It took me awhile but one good account I found was of them pretty much being the ones to stay behind so that the legion remains could escape the Dropsite Massacre which is what I based this chapter on to the best of my ability.