The Woman in Black (Part 1)
Here, have this.
Reviews and criticism are welcome.
Disclaimer: I don't own Games Workshop.
The smell was the first thing that wafted upon me when I found myself exiting the weird warp hallway the lantern guided me through. It was fresh and clean, much like Aalyanan Half hive's outskirts. This, though, was fresh untouched virgin prairie. I walked up a small hill and saw plains or steppes for miles in either direction. The grass stood high, at least to my power armored waist. I feared the open flame hanging from my hip would start a wildfire. However I got the impression the flame would not do so unless it desired to.
I picked a direction and walked. I saw smoke billowing out into the air highlighted by a blood red sun on the horizon. A bloody dawn greeted the day. Taking the obvious clue as to my direction, I just hoped there was nowhere to fall down again. I still hoped no one saw my unceremonious tumble back at that forge world. Kind of embarrassing. It didn't take long as my armor made a day's trek a few hours. I wondered when I would have to recharge the power pack. Something told me I didn't have to worry about it.
I crested the hill and looked down in a little coole seeing what looked like a wild west town in a small valley. It was a great spot for a permanent settlement. The town sat on a small rise inside the valley so the water drained past alongside a small spring. In fact if it wasn't for the Aquila in place of a Cross on the church steeple, I would have taken it for a real town from ancient Earth. Ancient Earth. It felt to me with a longing I didn't know I had. I hoped I never saw Terra. Holy or not, I never wanted to ruin the image I held of my time before waking up in this life.
I was brought out of my musings by the fires in the town below. Despite the flames and smoke, I could see many of the townsfolk in a bucket line trying to douse the flames, in the midst of regaining control. I saw bodies in the main street. Something happened in the dead of night. An attack.
As I stepped to help where I could see and feel a flash of fire. I felt the weight of my armor dissipate. I looked down, seeing my armor had disappeared. I felt my body and found I was now dressed in an all black sororitas habit and even my face was fully covered. A hooded veil swung down over my covered face obscuring it from anyone's view. I looked down at the form fitting clothing and noted even my power ax had changed. It was small and looked like a steel tomahawk both settlers, trappers, and natives favored back in the wild Merican west. My skirt stopped at my ankles with a slit that allowed for proper riding, my feet were swathed in black leather boots with spurs. They weren't those huge nasty Mexican Star styled spurs so I allowed the wannabe cowboy look, despite not having a horse to ride.
I didn't have a mirror, but I got the feeling that I looked like some sort of wild west wandering nun. Badass, but I was at a loss why I would need this getup.
My bolt gun had even turned into a sixgun, hanging in a you guessed it, an all black leather holster with a line of extra bolt shells ringed around it.
"Am I going to play the Pale Rider rider today?" I shook my head as the Lantern gave no response. Sighing, I made my way down to the town.
As I walked I imagined scenarios that I could possibly play out. I half expected a black and white filter to appear over my vision. Would the local Sheriff lock me up for being suspicious? Would I have to walk twenty paces in a duel? I was getting rather excited.
Right now holding a bucket would be more useful. I clipped the lantern to my belt. It had gotten a lot smaller as well. Thank goodness, because it wasn't exactly light to lug around when out my armor. So somewhere in the chaos I joined a water line, no one really noticing me as the remaining fire on the town's chapel was their focus.
It wasn't long before we had the fire under control. The Chapel would need some work but it was for the most part salvageable. I finally had the time to take note of the bodies strewn about. There were some kind of tribesmen and those who were clearly townsfolk. There were a few horse corpses mingled in. I bent down and examined the warrior closest to me. He looked the native merican type, say for the strange curved red feather with a blue tip hanging from his hair, and the chaos symbols scared into his flesh, I hissed and turned away. These bodies would have to be burned. I stood and moved to help with any wounded. I knew some basic field aid from Schola, so I just helped the best I could.
Mallard or Mal to his friends looked upon the disheveled state of the town. He held his wife in his arms. Her limp body was heavy in his arms. Her beautiful brown hair hung loosely around her pale now bloodless face. He slowly reached up and closed her eyes. Mal was up doing his chores around the shop when the attack started. He barely had time to grab his lever rifle and fire on the raiding party that was tearing up the town. Then he saw Terra lying in the dusty street, an arrow in her back. She was carrying some groceries out to old Miss Gertrude's place. The Old woman was getting too old to make the walk to Mal and Terra's General store. Terra had taken to delivering the food to the old woman's house in recent months.
The general store owner shoved the image from his mind. He would have to go help the others in the town soon but his wife… He set her down gently after a moment. He gave her forehead a kiss before standing to help put out fires.
He noted his eldest boy was already helping with the remaining fires and his daughter was currently tearing cloth apart for makeshift bandages with the other girls. His youngest son, a baby named Jordan, was still in the crib. Mal would check on him later.
He wished he never came out to this place on the ass end of the frontier. This was where the work was at. His store had been successful for the traders and trappers that stopped through here. Even the Imperial Army Dragoons would make orders for him to pick up. He knew some of the men from Fort.
Then he saw her. The Woman in Black. Veiled and walking, seeming to take in the devastation. She looked like an unnatural ghost wandering throughout the town. He would have taken her for a manifestation of Death were it not for a small lantern that burned brightly on her hip.
He was afraid at first but the light of flame gave him hope and he knew what he had to do. The savages would pay, but first the town had to be secured.
Most of the town was spared the tribals' wrath. The local stable was burnt down, but the horses were saved and those that weren't stolen by the raiders were rounded up. Ten graves were dug and ten pine boxes were put together. All the caskets lay open and the men, women, and even a child were visible to all.
Mal watched as the old preacher in his big round flat brimmed hat said a quiet sermon and calmly walked and said a few words for each victim of the attack. Then to everyone's surprise, the Nun who mysteriously appeared after the fighting stepped forward. No one had said a thing when she helped the wounded and helped in the bucket line. She had immediately started taking up duties as a nun upon meeting the Preacher. After the preacher moved on, saying a few words at the head of each body, the Nun would stand over each body and hold her lantern over each body.
"May your soul find peace at the God-Emperor's side. His realm where he protects his subjects' souls from the Warp. Where you can watch over your still living brothers and sisters from the horrors that lurk and seek Humanity's destruction in his name."
He had never heard of such a place. Until now. It sounded comforting. Even the preacher himself appeared to be unnerved but said nothing. It seems something even he had yet to learn of.
They all buried their dead. Mal himself and his eldest boy, Matthew, shoveled the dirt on Terra's casket. Milly, his daughter, held baby Jordan, but still leaned down to throw a handful of dirt on the casket. Mal and Matt went to help the other families once they finished Terra's grave.
Milly had tears in her eyes and Matt had a single tear leaking down his cheek, clearing a path on his dust and soot strewn face. Mal found he didn't have the time to cry. He looked at the grave. It seemed so bare. He would need to have a head stone made. Right now a stake would have to do.
He was distracted by the other men who were huddled nearby. They were arguing about what to do. The nun was standing just outside their circle, still silently observing.
"I say we track them and end them!" fire haired and fire tempered Ranchhand McKenny loudly announced.
"More like getting killed in an ambush. Do you have any idea where they set up camp? They are long gone." The big man in furs was Slane Bearclaw. He was a trapper that was known to hunt Hellbears in the mountains. He was clad in heavy furs and had a ring of massive bear claws strung into a necklace around his neck. The man was ancient, perhaps centuries old. Taller than any normal man. Said to be an Angel of God trapped in this world as the stories go from a battle in the stars long ago. One of his eyes was torn out by the vicious beasts. Ever since the man had sworn to kill every last one. He was a good patron of Mal's little store. The big man was the reason many of the raiders were killed in the fighting. Mal thanked the God-Emperor for the trapper's presence during the raid.
"We got to do something!" Mckenny said, holding his own against his better judgment in front of the big man.
"Run off and get yourself scalped more like." The old trapper retorted.
Mal was going to step forward, but Preacher Zed beat him to it.
"First we need to ride to the Fort and let them know about the attack. They need to know of the raiders' movements."
"It only takes one man to run a message." Mckenny growled.
"Or a woman." Kelly Beck approached. Her raven black hair was tied into a loose ponytail. The girl had buried her father today. Mal nodded. She was a good rider and his son Matt had been courting her. Mal thought about Matt. He would make a good runner as well. It would keep him out of the posse. He knew his son would insist on going. The Boy was young and a great shot, but not good enough to go toe to toe with those raiders.
"Perhaps we should send two riders." They all looked at the newcomer. The veiled holy woman.
"Aye, Sister," The Old Angel agreed, "Send some extra horses with them, so they don't have to stop. The girl seems to have volunteered. Who else?" The trapper eyed the others present.
"My boy will go with her." Mal turned and called Matt over.
"Yes, Father?" Mal noted the rifle clutched in the boy's hand.
"You and Kelly are going to the Fort to report the attack."
"Father, I'm going with yo-" Mal cut the young man off and pointed his finger at his boy.
"The Army needs to know and we need them to send some men to guard the town." Mal said. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "I will take care of the savages that killed your Mother." Mal's voice was stern and full of anger boiling beneath the surface. He wasn't quick to anger, but by the God-Emperor, he wanted nothing more than to ride into the heart of Cursed Tribes' territory to slaughter anything that moved. If he wanted vengeance, then he would have to bide his time. It took all his will to not go charging off on his own like McKenny. He needed more guns first.
His son didn't argue after seeing the look in his father's eyes.
Mal looked around at the assembled men and the Sister.
"I am going to get my guns. We ride out once the horses are saddled and have grabbed our gear."
The preacher looked at the trapper, "I fear we don't have a mount large enough to support you, Honored Angel."
"They are too slow for me anyway." Slane seemed dismissive.
"Do you still have your Wargear Astartes?" The Sister tilted her head at the old fur trapper.
"Even if it wasn't stashed several miles in the wrong direction, it hasn't properly functioned for a long time. I could ask you the same thing, Sororitas."
"My wargear will appear when I need it… I think?" She held up the lantern and spoke directly to it. "It will, right?" Her words were cryptic and insane, but Mal didn't have time to waste thinking on it. He walked into his house. His daughter was comforting her baby brother in the kitchen. He went into the master bedroom and slid a locked case from under the bed. He unlatched the locks. It opened revealing a pair of old pistols. They rested on a cleaned and pressed leather duster and an old groxman hat.
He didn't take long. He strapped the belt on and holstered the pistols. They hung side by side on his right hip like always. He was glad that he still went on walks, teaching his kids how to survive in the wild and look for possible threats. He was never able to master holding one in each hand like his comrades in the old days. Instead he settled for having a second sixgun to switch to when he ran out on his first. His left side held a massive bowie knife.
The flak armor breast plate was next and he then slowly slid the duster on and carefully donned the ancient livestock handler's hat.
The familiar weight of a life he hung up a long time ago rested on his shoulders with ease. He checked the function of his pistols and left the room. Milly met him in the living room at the exit.
She held a canteen and some foodstuffs, in her hands. His daughter stood back a bit. She was nearly a grown woman now. She had put on a strong face ever since the funeral. Her blonde hair was tied in a bun and she held a stern expression, despite the red rimmed eyes.
"Milly," he reached up and took her in an embrace. "I have to go."
She broke into tears she had been holding back. "I know papa." she sniffled.
"I know you and that Arnson boy have been seeing each other. He is a fine young man." Billy Arnson buried his mother today. An only child, Kid was a hard worker and strong as a grox bull, but a gentle giant of a boy. "You both have my blessing in case I don-"
"No, you'll come back and give him that blessing in person." Mal smiled. She was right. He still had much to live for, which was why he had to go. The Raiders had to be dealt with or they would never be safe.
"Alright then. Take care of your brother while Matt and I are gone."
"I will," Her tears had died and determination in her eyes took hold.
He took the canteen and foodstuffs she made before grabbing her and Jordan in a one armed hug. He held her tight. He took Jordan in his arms for a moment, remembering the weight the way he cooed at him. He smiled and handed the baby back to his daughter. He left the storefront.
Matt already had his horse saddled. Kelly was next to him. Mal looked at the girl. She was dressed up in riding leggings and ready to go.
"Kelly, take care of Matt." his amusement was doubled when he saw Matt shake his head. She seemed like she was trying to hold back tears. She needed to be away from here at the moment Mal could see that.
"Matt, be sure to switch out horses before they tire." Mal noted Matt was going to talk back but held his tongue. The boy was surprised to see him in his Ranger gear.
"Pa, after this I am going to Clintsville to join the Rangers." Mal found he could only nod. This wasn't a boyish proclamation. This was said as a man, who made his choice in life.
"Not without putting a ring on my finger you aint." Kelly said decisively.
Mal snorted. "Good luck." Both of them gave him a nod as they took off.
Mal found Matt had saddled his horse. Mal made sure to check the cinches himself. He trusted Matt, but a Ranger left nothing up to chance.
Mal checked his lever gun. Matt took his own rifle he bought with wages he earned working for Kelly's father. He swung into the saddle and rode to the edge of town. Slane was the only one there waiting.
"I knew you would be the first to arrive." The old angel said.
"Some habits are hard to break." Mal nodded at the large pistol on Slane's hips in a bear skin leather sheath.
"Yup," The Angel patted the holster.
"Don't use it much anymore. The bow is more than adequate." The bow unstung on his back wasn't so much a bow. but a mobile ballista. The arrows hung in a quiver on his hip. The only other weapon on his hip was a large shortsword sized fighting knife.
"Ever consider joining the Rangers Slane?" The old trapper gave him an odd look before answering.
"Nah, I find my current occupation to be something that gives folk a reason to focus on other matters." Slane was silent.
"I know not the pain of losing a…" Slane seemed to have trouble searching for the word, "Wife. I gave up that honor when I became an Astartes. My condolences all the same."
Mal could only nod. The pain seemed to rekindle and anger at his wife's life being taken away flared in his heart. The honor of having an angel offer his sympathies, even one like Slane, was astonishing and heartening.
They heard hoof steps and Mal turned his mount to greet the next member to arrive. It was the Nun. She seemed a bit out of place riding in the horse's saddle. The Lantern had its shudders closed. A shame, he could have used the comforting light that was within.
"Will it just be the five of us?" McKenny and the Preacher have yet to arrive.
"Not for long," Slane pointed in the direction on the plains where the trees of a larger valley grew. "We will head south west for a bit. There was a Ranger scouting the area that way. Hardfoot is the name."
"I recognize the name." Mal looked at the Nun, "Hardfoot is from a friendly tribe who converted to the Faith. Young for a Ranger, but her expertise in the area will be invaluable."
"That was my thinking. I wanted to ensure the Rabid Tribals hadn't killed her either. She is tough, but a full raiding party would be too much, even for a Ranger."
"We are ready to set off. We got gob-shite tribals to kill." McKenny growled as he wheeled his horse up.
"Calm, yourself, Harold, the Ranger and the Angel will find the trail quickly once we head out." The Preacher rode in as well. "Lead on Gentleman."
Mal nodded and looked at Slane. "She said where she was going?"
"Myers Shack."
"I know the place. Let's move!" Mal slapped his horse and the small pose took off into the plains, making for the nearby valley within a valley.
Peggy Hardfoot breathed heavily. She had been cornered by the Lost Ones. Those that followed the Dark Spirits that dwell in the dark of men's hearts. Only the Light of the two headed Eagle Father could burn away their filth.
Yet they had her on the run. She had been ambushed and was looking for a place to hide. They were leading her somewhere to kill easier. They hooted with almost pathetic war cries. Did the Dark Spirits really sap the potency out of their menfolk in such a way?
The Ranger was on the run, but not defenseless. She used the run to top her pistol and rifle. A technigue that made many along the Lost Ones believe the Ranger never ran out of ammo. The trial she followed broke into the small canyon. From the bones of humans and other animals, this was no human. It was to her horror that she realized she had been herded into a Hellbear den. She began to turn away, but she heard a growl and saw a massive bear charging at her. She emptied her rifle and then her pistol once more.
The bear tripped and slid toward her, dropping dead just at her feet. She took a moment to pant and catch her breath. She pulled a stray lock of raven back hair back behind her ear. She had lost her hat back in the forest, but her warpaint kept the sun out her eyes well enough. Her trenchcoat was torn in some places.
She looked at the Hellbear. Really looked at it. It was big, but it was gangly and awkward, almost like it was… A shrill chill of fear slithered down her back as a rumbling growl seemed to vibrate through. That wasn't a full grown hellbear. It was a cub.
She turned slowly, loading a couple rounds into her rifle as she turned to face it. It was as tall as it was wide and as tall as two men standing on their shoulders. She didn't stand a chance. The hoots and hollers of the Lost ones were gone. Even they wouldn't risk their lives to be near such a beast. She raised her rifle and fired the pitiful two rounds she had reloaded instinctively.
They impacted but no doubt never penetrated far enough to do anything substantial. She hoped her death would be qui-
A blur of fur launched itself into the bear mid charge just before it reached her. There was so much force behind the blow, it knocked the massive creature off course. She realized it was a man, no, The Talon of the Great double-headed eagle himself. She had heard stories of such a man. As he rode the massive bear, he hacked and stabbed it with a massive knife.
It was over in less than a minute, She felt her hair stand up and she turned to see another ranger standing there. She recognized him.
"Mal?"
"Peggy." He tipped his hat. "Looks like you landed in a spot of trouble." He held out her hat, She took it and put it back on.
"You could say that. The Lost Ones have been more active lately, I thought I could sneak into their lands to get some intel for the Rangers. Didn't you retire?"
"I was, until they came to my town and nearly burnt it to the ground." There was sadness in his eyes. He had lost something. "I am here to find out what is behind their drive to attack in such a manner and put an end to it and them." There was steel in his voice.
"I am sorry to hear that." Peggy said. She turned to Slane who was cleaning the blood off his blade. "I see the Great Eagle sent one of his Spirits to help us in our quest."
"He is the reason our town is only half burnt down." Mal said.
Peggy noted the dark figure sauntering up to the Hellbear. The veiled face made Peggy feel uneasy. It was as if there was an unseen shadow hovering in front of the face at all times, keeping her identity obscured..
The figure walked up. She looked like one of those sisters that lived in the Village Mission. Her gunbelt and tomahawk stood out as more than the usual kit they used. She stood beside the thing.
She was quiet before whistling. "I can see why these things are a problem here on this world. They're huge." She turned to Slane. "You hunt these things?"
"Yeah." The Spirit Talon said matter of factly.
"Right, astartes." she said a hint of annoyance at her own question. "We should probably move on. Seeing as we found a guide for these parts."
Peggy leaned over to Mal. "Who is that?"
"I have no idea, but I sense no harm to us from her. She showed up after the battle as if summoned by our lament." Mal didn't really know how to put it. "I just know that she is here to aid us in our mission against the savage tribes.
"A Spirit Walker of the Great Two-Headed Eagle Father." Peggy whispered. She almost fell to her knees then and there.
The Woman in Black turned to them as if hearing their conversation. Peggy straightened up, unsure of what the Veiled Spirit had in mind.
"So which way." She asked and cast her hooded and faceless gaze upon Peggy.
Peggy stammered, unsure. She thought she was on the trail before, but it was a trap. They had duped her. She couldn't be so sure of her path anymore. She looked down and her eye caught the flame burning in the lantern on the Veiled Spirit's hip. The shutter had opened just enough. It flared and she found herself looking away. She blinked her eyes comfortably and looked back to the trail. She blinked her eyes again. There was a third set of tracks. It was hard to see. In fact it should have been more obvious to her before.
It was almost like it was concealed with… sorcery. There was a Medicine Man here. It was the only way she could have missed the tracks before. She saw a charm in the dirt. It hurt her eyes to look at. She reactively drew and shot it with her pistol.
She looked back at Mal. Slane had approached. There was a frown on his face. Even the Talon had not seen it. This was a powerful shaman indeed if the Talon could not see the trail before now. This was not a good sign.
She pointed, "This way." She took point. Her eyes seeing things that most would otherwise not catch. The flame had given her such clarity. Combined with her knowledge of the lands in this region, they made great time. It would only take her a day before their small group would stumble on the trail of the raiding parties. It was not a good sign. There were so many tracks. The trial only converged.
Judging by the amount of tracks. It seemed the Savage Tribes had united under one banner.
"This is not good." Mal said as he squatted down beside her.
"No it is not, we need to send a runner. The trial leads to Blood Fall Gorge." Mal nodded. She could see he knew of the place. "I'll have Mckinney and the Preacher go back. The four of us can go on." Peggy nodded. The Preacher and Mckinney weren't the best at stealth.
Mal explained what was going on to the other two men. Mckinney growled, but the preacher reasoned that there were now too many for them to fight and that this had become a scouting mission. While hot-tempered McKinney wasn't a complete fool. He knew his skills as a scout were lacking. They mounted, taking Mal's and the Spirit's mount so they could have the fresh horses for delivering the message to the army. For the rest of them, it was on foot from here.
Peggy looked back down the trail, Blood Fall Gorge was a place of dark power. The stories her grandfather told there things that to this day make the hair of her neck stand up. That was their destination.
Mal moved up next to her. "You ready?"
Peggy took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes."
Mal took the lead. Peggy could see it in his eyes. He wasn't going to back down or retreat. Mal was on a warpath. The four of them continued on deeper into the canyon.
A/N: This chapter was running a bit long so I decided to split it up. Part 2 hopefully won't take too long. I couldn't really come up with an overall narrative plot for this story, So I think I will focus on making the story episodic for now. Perhaps I will do a poll and let you all decide the theme of the next format after the Leone arc is done.
