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Ave Dominus Lux - The End of Light Pt2. Please help to Edit


MikhalLeNoir

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Hi, posted that short on the WIP-Board, but it didn't draw any attention. Could be, that it was the wrong board.^^ This is only the introduction, more parts from different views are to come, all focussing on the end of the XI Legion, the Wardens of Light.

Please feel free to comment and critizise, especially on grammar and if it could be written better in some sorts, because I am no native speaker and it is not the easiest ways to write in a foreing tong.

Thanks in advance

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2016/5/18/800885-.png


 

THE END OF LIGHT Part 1



Heavy rain mixed with snow fell in big tears from the skies, as if the heaven itself was crying.

The big warrior hacked his way through the enemy lines, not bothering to look about the astartes he felled, for he knew, that every slice of his sword meant death.


He crushed the face of a golden warrior with the pommel of his blade and let the head of another explode with an aimed shot of his bolt pistol. Hacking, slaying, murdering he marched forward, the Wolves on his side. Where he was, the enemy line faltered, where he went the enemy broke. The golden armoured „Wardens of Light“ stood no chance against his wrath. But even then, they fought valiantly he had to admit.Three days have they fought against the odds. And here, they are still holding their stand.


The Wardens were taken by surprise, a complex plan set in motion by Guilliman of the Ultramarines and Malcador the Siglite, the hand of the Emperor himself.

The Wardens of Light prepared themselves for a celebration and not for the death they tasted now. Fools he thought, they deserved what they earned, making peace with xenos and going against the will of the Emperor.

The Space Wolves and Ultramarines were ordered to purge the Wardens of Light from imperial history, all records of them in imperial archives had to be destroyed too.. It meant that all their victories, all they had achived were in vain.

And for what? Spreading peace amoung the stars. Time over time they stretched the line, misinterpreted the wishes of the Emperor, denied his orders, befriended his enemies and let xenos join the ranks of the empire of mankind. It had to end like this. There is no peace amoung the galaxy, only war.


Nontheless this savagery had a bad taste on it. For the warrior in blue grey armor thought that relying on scheming tactics doesn’t seem very honourable. The plan was, that Malcador acted as decoy, bringing a peacytreaty in the name of the emperor to the planet. The Wardens were ordered to attend the act only with ceremonnial armour to honour the peace between humans and xenos. They were so naive… While they celebrated the fleets oft he Ultramarines and the Space Wolves reached the system, while the Ultramarines attacked the fleet, the wolves made planetfall and bombarded the planet, letting billlions die in nothing more than a glimpse.


The peace of death ist he only peace foul xenos and abberations deserve he thought, but despite that fact he would have prefered to destroy them in an open conflict, where both sides were equal and only the better fighter emerges victorious. This was a slaughterhouse. No heavy weapons support for the Wardens of Light, no tanks, nothing from the deadly equipement the Astartes usually utilize for war, only ceremonial weaponry. There wasn’t even the chance of support from the sky, because Guilliman and his Ultramarinas must have destroyed the whole fleet of this pastiche of a primarch by now. Even here through the dark clouds and the everfalling snowrain, he could see the burning sky.


To his left a big Warden of Light managed to broke through the lines of Space wolves and killed 3 of them. The Warden advanced in his direction, killing more and more wolves in the attempt to reach him. He had no helmet on, which was a rare occassion amoung the wardens, he knew, for they only went to war, with there faces hidden, so that the light will not know, who brought darkness and death. What nonsense the big Wolf thought as he stormed to meet his adversary, but bevor he could reach him, the tide oft he battle changed, and the Wardens pushed forward, bringing dead to the wolves. The lone fighter slayed his enemies with a big black axe, crushed them with a power fist and killed countless others with a blade on the tip of a long braid.


But before he reached the Wolf Warrior, he was swept away, instead assault marines with dual bladed chainswords gained the wolves attention, as they leapt in from the sky and the death cries of his space wolves ringed in his ear. „Unbelievable…how could this happen?“ But he knew, that now the elite oft he wardens carried the burden oft he fight, the Luth de oganach, pariah breed, whose gaze could even terrorize the standfest space wolves. „To me!!!“ the warrior yelled. „Return in Battle formation and repel the attack“

With new faith, the Space wolves engaged the Luth de Oganach, the sheer mass of the advancing space wolves forced the Luth backwards. But the other Wardens seized the weapons of the fallen wolves and helt their advance. The Luth jumped dozens of time into the ranks of the wolves and before they could defend themselves, the Luth retreated and spread death elsewhere, while the other Wardens sent deadly bolter salves into their enemies formations.


The Space Wolves died in the hundreds, cut down like wheat in the autumn, not able to counter the dance of the death which has come for them. The whole scene was a twisted mirror to before, when the Wardens of Light were killed en mass. The Big Wulf rushed forth, knocking a warden to the side and beheaded him with a turning backhand strike as he passed him. He dodged a bullet and kicked the shooting warden from his feet, cutting him in half, before he even reached the floor. He reaped through the enemies like the grimreaper himself. The wolves followed him, regaining the control of the battle, although it was now a massacre on both sides.


Suddenly shadow passed over him, one space wolve was brutally knocked aside and two others were tossed through the air, flying helpless like leafs in a storm and finally crushing hard on the snowy surface.


In front of him kneeled the Primarch oft he Wardens of Light, Gwalchavad, this peaceloving fool, who was in the warriors eyes responsible for this whole mess. This pariah was a disgrace to the title of primarch and brought shame to his brothers.


The time slowed down, the wolve could see the snowflakes hanging in the sky, see their cristaline structure, their beauty, he saw raindrops merging with the snowflakes, the mud mixing with the blood of the dead and wounded.

Gwalchavad rised slowly, even the battle around them seemed to stop, as if Wolves and Wardens were both awaiting what was to happen next. The Big Wolve knew it, he would crush this miserable weakling and present his head to the emperor.


The time regained its speed, the battle between the two brother legions continued and the Wolfwarrior moved forward, ready to crush his enemy.


„For I am Leman Russ, the emperors executioner…“



http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/10/8/749368-Lost%20Primarch%2C%20The%20End%20of%20Light%20Part%201.jpg

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The main point to take away is you did a good job telling a story. There are several grammar mistakes, which is understandable writing in a different language. I had time to point out a few mistakes in the first couple paragraphs.

 

1st paragraph. The Astartes he fell- change to felled.

 

2nd paragraph. The golden armored, Warriors of Light" stood no chance against his wrath. - add " before Warriors. "Should come before and after a phrase"

 

3rd paragraph. They were taken by surprise oft he attack, a big plan sent in motion by Guilliman of the Ultramarines and Malcador the Siglite,, - the words oft he (or off the?) aren't necessary. Big may not be the best adjective to describe a plan, as it describes the size of the plan rather than the complexity, intricate or complex might work better. Also the sentence should end in a period.

 

The Wardens of Light were prepared for a celebration and not for the imminent death they tasted now. „Pah“ he thought, „they deserved what they earned, making peace with xenos and going against the will of he Emperor.“- Pah he thought, they deserved what they earned, making peace with Xenos and going against the will of the Emperor.- Quotes are used typically for spoken dialogue, not thoughts. Also imminent was spelt wrong. Oft is used to indicate frequency of use, for example; there are oft times I need a strong drink. Of, is the word you are looking for, as in, will of the Emperor, or color of gold.

 

I hope to read more soon.

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Thank you. Thank you very much. I will correct the mistakes as soon as possible and give you another part the next days.


And glad you liked it.

 

 

Updated it and added a few lines. Hope it is better now. If you find more, just tell me and I fix it for sure

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  • 1 month later...

Hi, so I have finished the second part of the end of light. wrote it in my korean lecture, so there is heavy need of edits. so critique, comments and help are very very very very welcomed.
Update: Big Bad Squig helped me revising the story, what do you say?

 

 


The End of Light Part 2

 

Heavy rain poured from the heavens. The thud of water hitting the ground echoed the sound of bolter rounds impacting the armour of his brothers, dead or alive.

 

Arngrim hacked one Space Wolf’s head from his neck and crushed the chest of another with his power fist. Swinging, slashing, evading and countering. The battle was like a dance and Arngrim followed its deadly rhythm. Other Wardens died around him, but he was no ordinary Warden. He was the Blademaster, and he welcomed the rage, a rage that overtook him as he fought his way through the enemy ranks.

 

As he felled more and more of his foes, he felt like a god of old. He felt the most alive he had ever been bringing death. The colours were more vivid, the taste of the air stronger. He even could smell the blood of his fallen brothers on the wind.

 

A Space Wolf sergeant approached Arngrim, swinging with an enormous sword for his head. Arngrim parried the attack and answered with a deadly riposte, but his enemy evaded the strike. Both circled around each other. Even as the Wardens of Light and Space Wolves clashed against each other like waves against a cliff, the two adversaries were lost in their own world, ignoring the storm of battle around them.

 

Arngrim swung his battle-axe Agony in a murderous arc, but the wolf anticipated the move and darted back, preparing himself to counterattack. Arngrim stopped with his movement half way through and leapt with the flat side of Agony forward, crashing into his enemy and knocking him from his. He jumped atop him, pinning him to the ground and landing a heavy blow with his power fist on his enemy’s visor, smashing through his jaw and shattering his head. The rain still splashing down in its bleak rhythm.

 

As he sat there, on top of his defeated enemy, he laughed at the situation. How had it come so far?

 

 

Again they befriended an enemy; making peace with Xenos, where there should have been war. The former Apostles grew uneasy. Since they had been reunited, they were more and more absent from the glory of battle. Now that they were Wardens of Light, their Primarch set them on a course of peace. Arngrim Valten knew that this was not what the Emperor wanted, yet he followed his father. But he knew that there other, less obedient views amongst their ranks. Not spoken openly; more a surreptitious whisper. First the whispers were barely heard, but as the Great Crusade dragged on, and Gwalchavad choose to fight only as a last resort, the whispers grew louder and spread through the ranks of the Wardens. Gwalchavad dismissed them and, after the Emperor agreed to include the Xenos of Norsgot in his Imperium, the whispers suddenly subsided.

 

They awaited Malcador and his personal guard, to escort them to the capital. The Astartes of the Wardens lined up as honour guard and were only equipped with light weaponry as they were a symbol for peace. Gwalchavad, along with Mikhal the Scorpion and his Luth de Oganach stood beside the Sigillite and the Xenos leaders. It should have been a time of joy, but Arngrim felt something. A tickle on the back of his neck, as if something was about to happen, something significant. Then, it disappeared. He stood there, weighing Agony in his hand and caressing the axe, which was at his side long before he underwent the painful transformation to become an Astartes. Back on Terra he was only a whelp, not knowing the real thrill of war.

 

He looked around, observing his brothers. The ones from Caerbannog, mostly free of emotions, as they accepted the gift of their father, and his Terran brothers, the former Apostles of War. It was as if he should have noticed something, but like the tickle on the neck, he couldn’t grasp the thought. Arngrim’s gaze flew over his brothers, and then it stopped, boring into the eyes of their former leader. The one who had stood at the head of the Apostles, long before their father was found. Guaire Amalasan was a handsome man, with long white hair not formed into a braid or dreads as was custom among the Caerbannog Wardens, but instead flowing over his shoulders. His grey eyes stared back at Arngrim. And then, Arngrim Valten knew. He made a step forward, but Guaire slowly shook his head, put his helmet on and turning around.

 

Then fire rained from the sky. Warden bodies were blasted through the air, torn apart like puppets in the hand of a child. Arngrim was knocked unconscious as something close to him exploded and smashed him against a building.

 

 

When he awoke, the sky was burning. He saw colossal ships tumbling down onto the planet’s surface. It rained fire and water. An apocalyptic sight. Everywhere lay the broken bodies of his brothers and the xenos population. Their bodies in grotesque poses, flesh burned off them. Arngrim wasn’t sure what has happened. How long he was knocked out for? Who was responsible for this mess? Had the xenos backstabbed them? Was it a trap to capture the Sigillite? His head throbbed. He should start to wear a helmet, Arngrim thought. Pain ran through his leg and he realized that Agony was stuck in his leg. Always eager for blood my love, he thought. With a sudden move, he tore the axe free. He examined the wound. It was not deep; his armour plate absorbed most of the impact. He rose and looked for other survivors. He came across only more dead wardens, but there were not as many dead as there should have been, if he were the only survivor.

 

In the distance Arngrim heard something. It seemed familiar, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Then three grey-armoured marines appeared before him. They must have been Space Wolves, possibly sent here to rescue them. Had he been unconscious for so long that a rescue team was already here? He waved and yelled. The three wolves came close… Closer… All of a sudden, they opened fire. Arngrim was only saved by his reflexes as he threw himself to the side and used Agony to deflect the bolt rounds. He rushed behind a wall. He didn’t know what was going on, or why the wolves would attack him, but he had no time to think. They were here to kill him, and in order to survive, he had to kill them first. He took a moment to look over the wall. They swarmed out, trying to outflank him and attack from different sides. If they did, he wouldn’t have a chance, so he attacked first. Throwing Agony in the chest of the middle one and engaging the marine to his left, crushing into him with his shoulder. Arngrim grabbed his enemies head with his power fist and whirled around. The third wolf fired round after round into the body of his comrade, which Arngrim was using as human shield. Arngrim waited until his shield was perforated and the magazine of his enemy was empty, then threw his shield aside and stormed forward, passing the enemy he had slain with Agony. He reclaimed his axe. The remaining wolf inserted a new magazine in his bolter, and opened fire, but Arngrim was already too close. The deadly warrior gripped his axe with both hands and leapt off the ground, raising his axe high above his head. He felt the bolter rounds on his armour as mere stings, but his enemy felt the sheer might of Agony as it hit his helmet and cut as easily through his body as a hot knife would through butter. Blood sprayed everywhere and Arngrim suddenly remembered what the sound was. It was the sound of war. Bolter rounds exploding. Chainswords singing.

 

 

Arngrim smashed his fist into the head of his enemy, laughing. The Wardens had lost about half their numbers, as the first orbital bombardment was orchestrated. The other half tried to fend off the advancing wolves not sent to rescue them, but to destroy them. Their own brother legions had attacked them. It was not the xenos who had backstabbed them, but the very Imperium they fought for. They had fought for three days, their numbers dwindling slowly, but they stood their ground.

For every Warden that fell, the Wolves had to pay the price in blood.

 

As Arngrim led the counterattack, he had seen the Wolves’ Primarch Leman Russ and his father Gwalchavad fight in the distance. There the Wolves and Wardens ignored the battle which drew on with deadly force all around them. Arngrim had tried to fight his way through, but was swept away by a massed assault of wolves.

 

Now he was fighting on the other end of the battlefield. He remembered those lines of Wardens, standing at his father’s side. He remembered that he saw Guiare Amalasan among them … he remembered ... the expression on Guaire’s face … he remembered Guaire shaking his head … he remembered him putting on his helmet…he remembered him turning away… He had known, Arngrim realized… He had known what would happen… Arngrim was horrified upon the realisation. He stopped crushing his enemy’s face. He looked down; where once a proud Astartes’ head was, there was now an undefinable mass of red tissue … Arngrim rose … the thought hammering into his mind … he knew… he stumbled to his feet.

 

The Blood Claw saw the huge warrior, still dripping with the blood of his sergeant. Terror set in as the Warden let down a rain of punches upon the dead man’s mangled face. He couldn’t move, but the warrior didn’t stop. He threw punch after punch, and the young Blood Claw realized that the Warden was absent. Oftentimes the elder wolves warned the young aspirants that one could be drawn so deep into the frenzy of battle that they would not be able to perceive their surroundings.

 

The Blood Claw slowly approached the warrior, raising his chainsword and striking for his side, but his opponent moved as the Blood Claw struck and the chainsword tore into his leg, cutting it off. The golden-armoured warrior cried out, slashing uncoordinatedly in the Blood Claw’s direction while he fell. The young wolf jumped back, evading the strike, and hacking off his opponent’s arm and sinking the teeth of his chainsword with a fluid motion into his side.

 

Arngrim didn’t feel the pain as he lay there, life flowing from him, the wolf atop his chest. The world turned grey, and his sight faded, but he could only think one thought … he had known. And then Arngrim Valten, Blademaster of the Wardens of Light, Death Wanderer, wandered among the dead as one of their own.

 

The Blood Claw stumbled to his feet. The light was gone from the eyes of the golden warrior. He tried to free his chainsword, but wasn’t able to, instead reaching down to take the dead man’s axe. And with that, he went into battle again.

 

 

Gwalchavad exhaled heavily. He was barely able to counter the attacks from Russ as he bled from multiple wounds. His armour was heavily damaged, but so was Leman’s.; a huge gash opened across the Wolf King’s chest.

 

Heavy rain poured from the heavens. Lightning tore the sky apart. And the two Primarchs fought for their very lives.

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  • 2 months later...

I would say go easy on the David Gemmell fluff  and change Druss and the axe Snaga, as this is a straight copy and will instantly break the immersion when people think of Druss the legendary warrior in most of a well-known author's books, instead of Druss the Warden of Light. By all means take inspiration, but if you copy it  and people know who Druss is, they wont be immersed in the story.

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But here it was intended. Druss IS Druss just in 30k. A hommage to Mr. Gemmell. The Terranborns derive their names from fantasy authors. And sad fact: you were the first one to ever know Gemmells works.. ;(
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What I mean is try to be more subtle, by all means leave clues and hints but don't just shout out "THIS IS DRUSS!"

Maybe edit the name or give him a title that Druss had like Deathwalker, and change Snaga to Snagar or something

If you keep it as Druss is Druss and all the other terra-born are famous characters then the story feels less like a "30k story with strong fantasy influences" and more like a "Mario super bros of fantasy characters in 30k"

Big fan of Gemmell's work, Legend was awesome, and I don't blame you for trying to work his stuff into your story, just needs to be more of an Easter egg than a fact I think

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Ahh okay. Now i get it. Thx. Will edit it that way.

And no it was planned to be a hommage as I am a great fan. So any suggestions?
Keeping the spirit inside but not too open worshipping.

So hmm what about....Dunbar and his axe Rgans? I changed his title to death wanderer if this is okay. And i started looting my threads...will take some time before i changed it all. Hope it is then more a hommage and looked upon it as such.

 

 

EDIT 2: So, after a bit of thinking I changed the names completly to Arngrim Valten with a kreolic ring to it and the axe is now called "Agony". Hope I found all traces of Druss and changed them to the whole project, but of course there could be some glimpses left, please excuse them.

Hope now you can read the story without jarring or imagining Druss in it and the immersion is back in the house.

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