# Untitled, IG story



## GoRy (Apr 1, 2008)

Dariel pulled his knife from the throat of the tainted guardsman he'd been fighting. "How did I end up on this Emperor-cursed planet" he muttered. "Whatever happened to planet leave". He glanced around. The battlefield was quiet, the only movement debris floating in the wind and only sporadic gunfire drifting to his ears.

2 hours earlier he'd been demoted on the spot by that accursed Commissar Bradfield, down from Lord General to Major for wanting to keep his men alive to fight another day. Only physical intimidation had kept it from being an execution. Another self-righteous Commissar who thought the Imperium was a symbol and not its people. And his third such demotion. Rather tedious he thought, he'd have to lead another 5 campaigns or 10 campaigns just to work his way back to his rightful place at the head of his regiment.

++Major Castus, come in, over++

What now, another sergeant having discipline issues?

++This is Dariel, over++

Oh for some caffeine and a decent meal, he thought. The battlefield is as quiet as a gr...

++Major, chaos incursion 2miles due west, 3 companies of our finest are being tested, need help, over++

"Guess I'm in for a bit of a run" he said to himself, and set off at a brisk jog. 4 Guardsmen in the brown fatigues of the Moirvan 3rd he hadn't spotted fell in behind him.

**More to come. I was bored**


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## Luciferi (Mar 2, 2008)

Good good good.

Post more more more :biggrin:?


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## GoRy (Apr 1, 2008)

He paused and surveyed the line of guardsmen in front of him, glancing to the side to reassure himself that his troops had followed him. The sight greeting his eyes was one of utter chaos and devastation. Huge Space Marines, drenched in the blood of dead guardsmen, were tearing through the hastily formed firing line with abandon, hacking left and right with crude chainsaws, knives and in the case of who Dariel assumed was their champion, a vicious serrated red claw.

++ Major Castus to all NCO's, hold the line for counter-charge, bayonet duty ++

As a chorus of acknowledgements came back over his vox unit, Dariel turned to the remanents of the platoon behind him. "Lets see what these Chaos bastards are made of" he shouted, and charged at the flank of the Chaos attack on the trenches. 

The men behind him screamed battle-cries as they ran, firing shots off wildly with their lasrifles, some pulling out frag grenades in anticipation. Dariel pulled out his antique power sword, taken from a heretic on his first command as a captain. A quick shot with his bolt pistol took a marine in the elbow, glancing off it's armour and throwing it off balance, the soldier facing it taking his only chance for life by jamming his bayonet into the ribbed neck of the chaos filths power armour.

He was so close he could smell them...


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