Grey Slayer (Work in progress, Warhammer 40,000 fiction)

1

Chapter the First: The Hounds of Fenris2

MJORN IRONFANG LIMPED through the sea of Chaos Space Marine carcasses, looking upon them with pure disgust. His left greave was little more than a misshapen grey mass upon his leg, having been struck by a shot from one of the World Eaters’ plasma pistols, and was no longer usable. He knelt down and unclasped it, removing the melted armour plate from his shin. He then reached for one of the Chaos Marine carcasses and removed the red and gold greave from its own left leg, hating himself for what he was about to, what he must, do. With a snarl of rage, he reached down and tore off the blasphemous Khornate icon that was bolted to the armour plate, casting it aside and attaching the greave to his own leg.3

This was no way to live, having to resort to scavenging wargear from these traitors, those who he had once called his brothers. Yet, it was a necessity.4

*5

RUNE PRIEST FJELLMIR Wolfback snarled in disgust, his eyes scanning the field of death before him. Over one hundred Khorne Berserkers lay dead, their vehicles burning in the purifying flames of justice, their bodies savagely mutilated and torn apart by the ferocity of the bestial Wulfen-kind. He turned to his companion, the venerable Wolf Priest Lupus Redmane, who appeared to be similarly disgusted by the red-garbed corpses that littered the wastes. Clearing his throat, the Rune Priest moved to Lupus’ side, the Wolf Priest still staring at the dead Chaos Marines on display.6

“Have we any casualties, Brother Lupus?” Fjellmir looked questioningly at Lupus, who quickly glanced at him to confirm that he was listening to him.7

“Aye. Two of the Storm Claws are dead. Brother Joras and Brother Gelmorhl. Fine warriors, both of them.” The Wolf Priest bowed his head, as if in mourning. “Both felled by that wicked Dreadnought, the howling, blood-spattered thing with the twin axe-weapons. And Grey Slayer Jarad cannot be found. But we cannot let this distract us from our mission.” He hesitated for a second before looking up at Fjellmir. “When are we to leave this blasted hellhole, Brother Fjellmir?”8

“As soon as Norgarn’s Grey Slayers return. I have sent them to check for any remaining filth.” Turning to the rest of the Space Wolves contingent, he examined each of the warriors in turn, his gaze quickly sweeping over each. All valiant warriors, and veterans of the Long War. Barely a word was exchanged amongst the waiting Space Marines, and most of them sat in silence, bar the occasional battle-brothers feasting on rations or exchanging boastful claims as to how many World Eaters they had slain. Fjellmir could not sense fear among them, although he sensed tension, as well as a desire to leave. He sniffed the air inquisitively, and found that, thanks to the wolf-like characteristics granted to him by the Canis Helix, he could smell the dying scent of previously-produced adrenaline, not to mention the stench of fresh blood mingling with the mixed odours of sweat, ceramite and smoke. He rested his hand on the haft of his belt-hung frost axe, and he gripped it tightly, a feeling of tension and anger growing within his own mind. “Damn it, Norgarn, where are you? I tire of standing on this blasted, Emperor-forsaken rock.” He looked down to see the helmet of a World Eaters Marine lying inches from his foot – he snarled and kicked it a fair distance away. “Accursed filth!”9

*10

ESTADOR M’KAI HISSED in delight, gazing at the various data-panels before him. Various reports were coming in, and he was very pleased to see them – a contingent from the Lost Company of the Space Wolves had recently toppled a band of World Eaters in the Chinchare system! A grin crossed his emaciated face, and he licked his thin, dead lips with relish, flexing his power armoured fists in anticipation. “Lieutenant Saberias, the-...”11

“I am aware, Estador,” called a dark voice, almost literally oozing with irritation and resentment, from the centre of the gloomy bridge, which was illuminated by the backlighting of data panels and info-screens alone. “Do you not think that I have more servants than you? I have been informed of the presence of the 13th Company already. In fact, I have known of their presence for two days now, thanks to the fleet Navigators.” Biting back an angry retort, Estador continued to survey the readouts, which, according to the transfer briefings, were coming from the Delirium capital-ship, that of Shamet Gethsemane, who was one of the Chosen of Abaddon – he smirked at the thought that the master of that ship ruled over even the self-absorbed Saberias Dahrk. He turned from his post at one of the command consoles to face his embittered master. A hulking character, even for a Space Marine, Dahrk was an extremely imposing figure, garbed in superb artificer armour of jet, gold and silver (the colours of the Black Legion), adorned with several skulls, some of which looked to be from human children. Other trinkets and fetishes hung from the armour as well, as well as a fur cloak that was draped around his shoulders (according to Saberias, it had once belonged to a high-ranked warrior of the Space Wolves whom he had captured, and had then had him tortured nonstop for ten weeks before finally beheading him). Saberias’ bald head was pallid and sunken, and yet his face appeared to be full of strength and charisma at the same time. Unlike most Chaos Marines, his face was unmarred by bionic implants or cables penetrating his flesh, yet he was still easily recognizable as a veteran of over ten millennia. A small scar ran from his bottom lip down to his shaven chin, yet other than that, he had no war-wounds upon his visage – however, he had suffered many grievous blows to his chest and limbs throughout the years. Upon his left shoulder guard was the symbol of the Black Legion – the Eye of Horus, superimposed over a yellow star of Chaos Undivided. Estador wore armour of the same colours as Saberias, and with the same Legion symbol, yet his was not so finely adorned, seeing as how he was lesser in status than Saberias. Both felt large amounts of bitterness towards each other, as Estador was constantly being taunted and belittled by Shamet’s most trusted lieutenant, while Saberias was well-known for resenting everyone and everything that crossed his path, save Shamet Gethsemane and Abaddon the Despoiler (mainly due to the fact that his twin brother, Lucifell Dahrk, had ascended to the status of a mighty, immortal Daemon Prince of Chaos Undivided, while Saberias himself still had to endure the crushing despair brought upon him by his own petty mortality).12