# Outcast



## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

Electricity surged through his body, ripping at his sanity like a thousand dogs tearing flesh from bone. They saw his pain, they knew his pain. But they wouldn't stop. They would never stop until they received the answers they required.

" So, should we try this again? Or do we have to give you a little more enticement." One of them said.

" When I am let go, you will feel pain human." Tarshek said.

" I'm sure I will, but for now, I'm more focused on you." The man taunted before turning the electricity back on.

It was even more painful this time. His nerves had been partially destroyed by the first shock and now all his active nerves felt the pain tenfold. He decided to tell them. But he promised himself that they would pay for what they had done to him.

" I,I will tell you!" Tarshek yelled.

" Oh, so now the traitor wants to talk. Well then speak, and I daresay you had better speak the truth." The man said.


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The morning dew was heavy in the air. It was always heavy, every morning, and had always been that way from what Tarshek knew. Tarshek let the dew settle on his face, cooling him, soothing him. 

Tarshek began the rituals he performed every morning, with a bath. He went down to the bank of the river and dipped his toes. The water was cool, but it wouldn't stay that way. In half an hour, it would be boiling hot. But that didn't matter, for Tarshek's body could withstand extreme cold and extreme heat. He just thought it was more pleasent when it was cool.

After Tarshek had bathed himself, he started his inventory check. He needed to make sure none of the wild animals had taken his things. He knew they never would, and never could, but it was a ritual that was embedded in him. He had always checked his inventory every morning when-he-still-belonged, and he couldn't break the habit now. 

His armour was still there, although he didn't understand why he kept it. He had little use for his armour. The only pieces of his armour that he ever found any practical use for were his helmet, and his gauntlets. He kept his helmet for obvious reasons. It enabled him to track his prey which made hunting very much easier. He kept his gauntlets only for when he needed to fight off creatures that had come to close to his home, and for when he hunted the great Straviya. 

His bolter was where he had left it, neatly bundled in his ceremonial tabard. His Gladius lay beside it, sheathed and stored in it's case. Ammunitions were stored in cases neatly stacked one beside the other.

As Tarshek dressed himself he heard a strange noise resonating in the distance. He perked up his ears and focused on the sound, pinpointing where it was coming from. The noise became clear to him as the baying of the Coreth.

Tarshek looked out into the wilderness. It was time to hunt.

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So I hope you enjoyed the first part of my "short" story. C&C appreciated and demanded (I really want to know what you guys think).

Thanks,

Master Kashnizel


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

could one of the mods move this, I'm sorry I posted it in the wrong section.

never mind


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

I really like it hope to see more


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

thanks man


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## Dragblud da scrunka (Mar 26, 2009)

Nice start very intruging  well written


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

thanks man! I wrote this in about ten minutes but I'm pretty happy with the result. I will be posting the next part soon


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

*Part 2*

Tarshek grabbed his bolter and gladius, and slung them on the side of his bike. It was an old thing, an early pattern bike from ages ago. The paint had been chipped almost completely off by battle and by overuse. It had been that way when it was given to him. His bike had been given to him when-he-still-belonged by Varek Khaled. It had been a parting gift, and had been given to him in secret. No one had been allowed to help him for he was a traitor, or so he was called. 

Tarshek used his bike often. He seldom left it when he hunted and always used it when traveling. It was a silent and fast vehicle, capable of going 210 kilometres in a half-hour. It was also quiet rugged, and able to go through mud, snow, ice, and even the acid rivers that ran all across the country-side. His bike was essential to his survival.

Tarshek didn't wear his helmet. The Coreth were large creatures, and he could easily see them. It was even easier to hunt them without his helmet because they always ran in large herds, making for easy prey. Making for easy targets.

As Tarshek lifted himself onto his bike, he kicked the side of the engine. The engine had been used to turbo-boost so many times that now, it wouldn't start unless you gave it a hard kick. Tarshek never went that fast, he knew that he had to respect the machine, or it would break and hunting would become very difficult.

Tarshek hit the ignition switch, and with a soft rumble, the engine turned on. Tarshek switched on the built in auspex of the bike. Small green blips on the screen designated all the living creatures within a square mile. There were 23 excluding himself. Tarshek breathed in and then hit the gas peddle. With a slight squeel from the engine, the bike sped off.

Tarshek felt the cold morning air hit his face as he sped along. He knew that as soon as he was close to the Coreth herd, the air would become warmer. The Coreth emitted much heat from their bodies. It was there defence mechanism against the smaller, cold blooded predators that roamed the land, who couldn't get too warm or they would die. Of course, the heat didn't bother Tarshek, in fact, it gave him a rush of adrenaline. Knowing that Tarshek would kill once again was extremely exiting to him, but it was nothing compared to the thrill he got from a fight.

Tarshek looked down to his auspex. More blips had appeared on the screen, this time in a large pack. They were the Coreth, which told Tarshek that he was getting closer to his prey. But he did not hear any hooves hitting the ground. There was no noise except for the rumble of the engine, and the birds tweeting. As Tarshek got closer to the pack of blips, he saw that they weren't moving. He decided that they were drinking water at one of the many watering holes, but he didn't feel any heat. 

Tarshek drove to a small group of boulders near a hill. He got off the bike and took his bolter and gladius out of their holsters. He slowly approached the boulders and crouched beside them. He sniffed the air to smell the scent of the Coreth. He did not smell their scent, but he smelt ash, smoke, and the scent of blood.

Tarshek climbed the hill and lay down on his stomach. He peered over the hill crest. Tarshek would have vomited if his body would let him, and if his body would have let him feel empathy. For, laying before his eyes were two dozen dead Coreth and an ashen wasteland. There was nothing left of the once fertile watering hole that had once been in that location. All of it had been burnt to the ground. The Coreth were all dead, killed by what, Tarshek did not know.

Tarshek walked down the hill to where the animals lay dead. He knelt beside one of the Coreth and observed it's body for any sign of a wound. There were no claw marks, no inscision points, only a hole in the creature's neck. He looked more closely at the wound and saw a small metal object lodged in the wound. He carefully pulled it out. It was the size of his index finger and made of iron. He wiped the blood away from it and observed it closely. As he turned it in his hand he saw a symbol edged into the side of the object. It was an aquila, the symbol of the Imperium.

Tarshek stood up and smelt the air once again. The air smelt of narthecium, a substance used in most Imperial class flamers.

Tarshek realised suddenly that he was not alone. He saw shadows being cast in the edges of his eyes. He quickly drew his bolter and fired two shots at one of the approaching beings. It's head disappeared in a cloud of flesh and blood, and a large hole was made in it's stomach. The being was a human, and wore armour typically found in the Imperial Guard...

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Well that's part two of my story, hope you enjoy.


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

*ahem* comments would be much appreciated *ahem*


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## Master Kashnizel (Jan 5, 2008)

*Part 3*

Tarshek was fighting soldiers of the Imperium. Killing the protectors of the Universe's single most powerful empire. He would have to make this last.

Tarshek got on one knee and fired a burst of rounds into an approaching Guardsman.The first round hit his leg, tearing it off in a cloud of blood. The next two rounds hit him in the groin. The Guardsman let off a pitiful cry before falling down into the mud, where his wails of agony could not be heard. 

Tarshek popped the clip out of his bolter and slammed in another one. He felt so alive, he was going to enjoy killing these men.

Tarshek heard another of the men come at him from behind. With an impossible speed, Tarshek drew his Gladius and swung around, slicing the Guardsman's raised arm clean off. The man had tried to bayonet him. It woln't have done much though, Tarshek's body was built to withstand such an injury. 

The Guardsman fell to the ground, blood spurting out of his wound. Tarshek grabbed him by his throat and picked him up. He swung him into an approaching Guardsman, knocking him over. Before either of the men could get up, Tarshek shot a volley of bolt rounds into them.

From what Tarshek could see, there were only four or five guardsmen left. They would be easy prey.

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Alright well that is the beginning of part three, please comment, I want to know what you guys think.


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