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The Divine Hunter - Battle Reports


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#26
Brother Tyler

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Posted ImagePosted Image

Atticus Duval vs. Du’tek

Atticus Duval looked around him for the next foolish imperial whom would learn the true meaning of chaos, his eyes immediately fell upon an ancient breatheren, a salamander from the looks of him. Their eyes locked and the two champions, one a fell follower of the emperor, and he an enlightened warrior knew their fates were intertwined.

"It has been with Vulkan's flame and fury that thou hath been cleansed", the words had not sooner left Du’tek's mouth then he saw the foul beast who stood glaring at him. The sacred terminator armor was fouled by this beast, and worse, the sacred crozius had been defiled! The blasphemous weapon gave off waves of mind sapping horror.

He heard his words more then he thought them, "You have fallen from the light. Once a great messenger of the Emperor's word, you now spew nothing but vile lies. I will see that the Defiled weapon that you carry is cleansed of its sins. And you heretic, shall be cleansed with my own Righteous fury." The sentences lashing from his tongue as his feet carried him forward.

With a disdain, Atticus pointed his weapon, a storm bolter at the charging marine. The weapon bucked, and for a moment atticus couldn't see, the muzzle flash obscuring his vision, but his mind's eye showing him what happened. The mass reactive shells were thrown from the chamber, travelling near the speed of sound towards their target. The first catching the pitiful loyalist in the throat, quieting any screams that may follow, the second, piercing the armored chest, and exploding deep inside the body of the unfortnate marine. Both hearts being torn apart by the round, the pure anguish of the wounds stiffled by the throat wound. Atticus smiled as he stared at the slowly disipating haxe, a thunderhammer piercing the obscuring smoke.

Du'tek had caught the first round in his throat, but the wound was not fatal, but it had saved his life. The impact of the first round had spun his body as the round deflected from his mask and into his armor, this motion had caused the second round to slide across his chest armor instead of hitting it at a right angle. The wound's pain reminded Du'tekt of the deadlyness of his opponents, while they may be fould beyond his ability to rationalize, they were marines, and the most deadly of foes.

His legs had never faltered in their charge, and Du'tek was uppon the slower termintor armored foe. The impeteus of the charge lending him openings in the enemies defense. His Thunder hammer struck again and again, many driving past the stunned opponent, directly striking him. Glaring flash after flash as the massive energies contained within the sacred weapon were unleashed upon the foul spawn of Chaos. Cleansing the world of this scum, Du'tek struck with all his might in an orgy of cleansing.

His eyes opened to the most improbably of sights, the ancient terminator armor had held, and the heretic had survived in tact.

His mind was overwhelmed, time had betrayed Atticus Duval. But he was renewed, his ancient armor had held against the foolish servant of the corpse god.

He let loose a howl to the chaos gods for playing this crafty game upon him, and he unleashed his crozius upon the pitiful mortal before him. The ancient weapon striking out time and time again. The rythmic strikes of the power weapon were matched by the impacts upon the ancient drakes hide. Time and time again striking, and time and time again the ancient drakes flesh held. The foul fates of the chaos powers were being fickle, or they were entertaining themselves with the two combants.


Du'tek and his opponent seperated for the breifest of moments, and then were upon each other in a flash. Neither had succeeded in gaining the upper hand a second time, and the hammer flash and the singing of the ancient weapon were enough to draw the other combatants attention for a momeent as the two titans struck repeatedly at each other.

Somewhere in a far part of the galaxy the fickle chaos gods wagered and bet upon the fate of these two warriors, and laughed as a single tear ran down the face of the emperor.

The area the two warriors had stood was obscured by steam, as the two had torn pipes and sheeting from the ship in their fight. The massive battle had carried vibrations through the ship. The imensly tough skin of the drake showed no sings of failing even after the intense hammering it had received from the ancient Crozious, and the refractor shield of the Crozius ionizing the lethal energies of the massive thunder hammer.

Atticus had gained the upper hand with the near fatal wounding Du'tek had taken at the hands of the storm bolter..

But it was Du'Tek who had found the weakness in his opponent's armor. A single blow had penetrated the defenses. By passing the foul aural the crozius gave off, shattering the ancient terminator armor and liquifying the flesh it contacted. A single blow had gotten through, but the power of the thunder hammer was a force irresistable, and the chaos gods had lashed out claiming Atticus' soul.

And far off on Terra, the emperor's tear continued its path down his face. An ancient warrior had died, and even though that soul would never find its way back to him, his tear had been shed.

Du'tek kneeled in a moments prayer. His neck wound preventing the thoughts from voicing themselves. Some how he felt the emperor's tear, a tear of sadness that a foul beast of chaos had fallen. He arose renewed, his wounds already healing, he coughed and spit the blood into the gaping hole he had gifted the spawn of chaos.

Victory to Du’tek

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#27
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Håkan vs. Strakar

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As he strode away from the limp form of Gibraltar, Strakar noticed a Space Wolf a little distance ahead. After flexing his daemonically enhanced muscles, Strakar began a steady sprint towards this newfound enemy. As Strakar neared, the Space Wolf turned. “Your soul belongs to me! You shall die by my hand, just like the Fools before you!” cackled the child of Slaanesh; with an ear-piercing Scream, Strakar launched his assault.


“Foul abomination of Chaos! Feel the fury of a true warrior, feel the wrath of a Space Wolf!” howled Håkan as he spun around and dashed madly at the Chaos Marine.

Seconds later the two adversaries smashed into each other, teeth grating, armor grinding and brows furled both men began a savage close combat assault.

Strakar slashed with his razor sharp claws, pink and purple electricity rippled around them as they tore across Håkan, first tearing into his chest plate then across his shoulder pad as he rolled his body. The Space wolf slowly swung his left arm up in a wide arc smashing his hammer into Strakars helmet knocking it off with incredible force exposing the beautiful marine’s twisted face. Håkan then came down awkwardly with a thunderous clap smashing the side of Strakars face and shoulder pad, shattering his clavicle with a tremendous crunch!


The Chaos Marine screamed in ecstasy; he had not relished pain like this in some time. Strakar slashed again with his blades back and forth, but the son of Russ was too quick and dodged and weaved in between the colorful swath of electric death, his shield catching one of the blows producing a shower of sparks.

Håkan attempted to swing the large hammer he held in his left hand but was unable to position himself to throw any blows as he was to busy dancing around the worshipper of Slaanesh. A formidable foe, something he had not found in the Cadia system.


Strakar chortled, he was having the time of his life, “Again, again!” he thought; he was in a rapturous blur and prayed to his lord Slaanesh that it would never end. His arms extended out to the Space Wolf as if in an attempt to embrace him; lost in the moment.

Håkan seemed a little confused as the blood in his body warmed with his rage. He couldn’t figure out what the Chaos Marine was doing, it almost seemed silly; it was time to strike the finishing blow. As Strakar giggled and flung his arms around in a poor attempt to cut the marine, Håkan backed away, dropped his shield and raised the thunder hammer above his head. Odd he thought “Porridge…I hunger for a nice Fenrisian Porridge.”
He brought the hammer down upon Strakar, again and again…porridge.
As porridge was made the child of slaanesh continued to laugh and giggle; slowly, ever so slowly turning into a gurgle…and then silence.

“Your magic’s couldn’t help you; your scream was just a scream of your defeat.
Gibraltar, my brother… You have been avenged...” screamed the proud, blood spattered wolf.

Victory to Håkan

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#28
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ROUND 3

Fight 1 - Gideon vs Skull Taker - Victory to Gideon
Fight 2 - Håkan vs Omega - Victory to Håkan
Fight 3 - Avalon vs VonBek - Victory to VonBek

Du'tek, Darium, Radamanthys, and Yurtz get byes this round, but must fight in the next round if there are enough fights.

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#29
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Gideon vs. Skull Taker

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Gideon moved across the compartment like a man possessed. Descended from Sigismund, he sought to vanquish his foes as the first High Marshal had done in the Horus Heresy. His target was the red-armoured traitor he had just watched take the head of the green-armoured Euripides. As the Chaos Space Marine affixed Euripides’ head to his belt, Gideon called out, “Prepare to suffer the wrath of the Emperor! Your axe will cut through the sons of Dorn no more. I come to sever your wretched soul from the clutches of mortal existence. I will break you traitor, in the name of Sigismund!! Feel the Vengeance of Mankind!!”

The Skull Taker looked up from his new trophy to the black-armoured loyalist who challenged him. Feeling the bloodlust overcome him, he was barely able to reply as he moved forward. "Third time is always the charm."

The two opponents crashed together in the middle of the compartent, the initial swing of the Skull Taker’s sword being blocked by the shield of Gideon. The Black Templar grunted with the exertion of blocking the attack, the daemonically enhanced strength of his opponent forcing him backward. The traitor’s follow-on attack was with the wicked chainaxe, aimed high at the helmet of Gideon. With a speed that belied the seemingly bulky power armour, Gideon ducked beneath the blow.

”Good, another worthy opponent” was all the Khornate champion said. The Blood God looked upon him favorably this day, gifting him with enemies worthy of his blade. This one’s skull would be well earned. Continuing the swing of the chainaxe, he spun around and brought the blade of the power axe down into the shoulder of his opponent. The power of the blade was contained in an energy field, breaking through the thick shoulder armour and ripping into the flesh beneath. The Black Templar’s shield arm immediately dropped to his side with the force of the blow. Laughing to himself, the Skull Taker once again swung the chainaxe at the neck of his opponent.

Gideon wasn’t ready to give up, though. As the whirring chainaxe threatened to take his head, he brought the energized power fist up. As the massive fist blocked the attack, he cocked it back and with a mighty roar he struck out at the helmet of his opponent.

The power fist crashed into the face of the Skull Taker, breaking through the armour and pulverizing the bone and flesh beneath. Throwing all of his weight and power into the attack, the fist crushed the head of the Skull Taker and threw the decapitated body back so fast that the axe was ripped from its grip and remained in the shoulder of Gideon. The red-armoured body skidded across the deck, leaving a bloody trail.

Victory to Gideon

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#30
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Håkan vs. Omega

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Håkan growled as he saw Omega withdraw his claws from Ulkay Gondir spouting incoherent rhetoric. Rage filled his body, he felt his betcher glands kick in and saliva ran down his canines, staining, and then corroding the lifeless marine’s armor below him.
Håkan smashed his thunder hammer upon the ground sending ripples along the floor. “Over here scum, you have tasted the children of Russ for your last time! Your oaths of loyalty are as false as your gods. You, the fallen space marine, shall feel the wrath of the Emperor!” he leapt forward and with only a few meters to cover was upon Omega in no time at all.

Omega spun around as another Space Wolf screamed out from across the chamber, “Ah, another Wolf of Russ. Will you join me, or will you die like the last? I must prove my worth to the New Machine, I am sorry, my vengeance must continue!” he bellowed as he sprang forward to meet the feral marine.

Both men struck each other with mighty blows as each met face to face. Omegas left claw slashed Håkan low as the slower Space Wolf came crashing down upon him moments later with a clap of thunder…”Fenrisian Thunder for you Chaos scum!!”scoffed Håkan.

Omega, dazed by the blow stumbled backwards, momentarily reaching out for the floor with his claws, only to slide them across the ceramite below causing sparks and a loud grating noise. He was off balance and knew it; clumsily he stumbled forward again, frantically slashing as he tried to gain his composure, his head swam with color from the shock of the hammer blow.

Håkan smirked at the foolish marine before him and howled out “So much for the New Machine, traitor!” as he brought down his hammer upon Omega shattering his armor and punching a sloppy hole through his chest. “More Porridge…”

As Omega choked on spittle, bile and blood he raised his head with all the strength he could muster and limply spat out a few teeth the shockwave from the hammer had dislodged. He gurgled, smiled a toothless grin and whispered back "Remember this, Son of Russ...your loyalty gets you nothing. Your survival means nothing to any of them...but my death proves nothing good or ill. I am but one of many...For every being you find on your side, there are two enemies...and for every two enemies, there is a follower of the New Machine...a follower of him who fights your enemy. I die, Håkan of Russ, but know that Malal is who I truly served. My vengeance has done his duty and now I can die in peace...thank you."

*With a blinding light Håkan is thrown backwards as the terminator's shell disintegrates*

Victory to Håkan

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#31
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Avalon vs. VonBek

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Avalon searched for a new opponent. He had just killed a mutant with immense claws and the deed brought some satisfaction to him. To think that his last opponent had once been one of the Emperor’s Space Marines! Ahead of him he could hear the sound of someone chanting, followed by an eerie hiss and the heavy thud of someone crashing into the servitor console. Avalon picked up the pace, moving forward to aid whichever of his brethren was engaged.

The body of the robed Inquisitor sprawled on the deck before him, VonBek looked up for more prey. He could hear the heavy footfalls of an armoured figure approaching from around the nearest corner. Judging by the sound, whomever was approaching was in tactical dreadnought armour. The Tzeentchian sorcerer smiled in anticipation.

Rounding the corner, Avalon saw the menacing figure before him. The once-proud terminator armour he wore had been mutated, curved tusks extending from the helmet and blasphemous runes scrawled across the blue armour. Burning braziers rose up from the back, filling the air with a pungent odor. The clawed hands of the traitor were open before him, reaching out as if to grab something from the air. A low chanting issued forth from the traitor – perhaps he prayed to his dark gods.

“The emperor will bring swift justice onto the traitors! Make your last prayers to you foul Gods! Repent for tomorrow you die!!!!”

Avalon charged forward.

VonBek did not recognize which Legion the loyalist hailed from. None of those who had remained loyal to the Corpse had worn bone white armour. Perhaps this was one of the young ones, what the loyalists called a “Successor”. No matter, he still served the false emperor and would die for this error.

The Thousand Son finished the incantation as the loyalist began his charge. The energies of the Warp manifested in the space between his hands, a fiery azure sphere that burned and cast an eerie glow all around it. As the deadly ball of energy expanded, the spirits of those slain so far were drawn from the Empyrean, their voices wailing.

The room began to spin and purple and blue flames leapt up the wall. Within the flames the faces of the fallen marines in Avalon’s care writhed and screamed for salvation. The voices became deafening. They became all that could be heard. With a snap of the ancient terminators claws and a low voice that sounded like rolling thunder VonBek spoke"Fall asunder, witness the unmaking of mortality"

With a hiss, VonBek hurled the bolt of energy forward at the terminator charging him.


Avalon continued charging as the fiery blue ball took form before the traitor. He had to close the distance and slay this fell sorcerer, a mutant psyker whose existence was an insult to the universe. The voices that sounded became louder, reaching a roar that threatened the sanity of Avalon. As the mutant sent the eldritch bolt towards him, Avalon prayed that the thick terminator armour would protect him.

The fiery blue and purple bolt speared into Avalon, engulfing him in a fiery blue mass. The warp energy penetrated the tactical dreadnought armour, ripping into the body of the Dark Angel and stopping him dead in his tracks. Avalon was overcome with roiling agony as he felt his life ebbing from him. The wailing voices reached a crescendo, attacking Avalon’s mind as the energy of the attack damaged his body.

Watching as the Bolt of Change felled the white-armoured terminator, VonBek let out a low chuckle. The servants of the Architect of Fate wielded the energy of the Immaterium in battle as lesser beings wielded swords. Such wisdom would inevitably see him succeed in this conflict, slaying the fool loyalists with the power of his mind.

When the body of the terminator stopped moving, VonBek saw the symbol born upon the shoulder pad – a broken sword between two wings. Jonson’s Legion had fought under such a symbol – perhaps this one had claimed allegiance to that Primarch. It was a moot point now, the loyalist was dead. VonBek approached the still body and kicked it over onto its back. Looking down upon it, he saw the molten hole burned into the chest. The stink of scorched flesh issued forth from the wound as the lifeless eyes of Avalon stared out into the void.

VonBek laughed wordlessly and set off around the corner this one had come from.


Victory to VonBek

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#32
Brother Tyler

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A calamitous turn of events for the traitors! Only VonBek, Tzeentchian sorcerer, remains alive to battle the loyalists.

Against him are Darium, Du'tek, Gideon, Håkan, Radamanthys, and Yurtz.

Will VonBek be able to kill all six of the remaining loyalists and achieve the goals of the raiding team, striking a victory in the Long War? Or will one of the stalwart defenders of the Imperium succeed in killing VonBek and achieving a victory for the loyalists?

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#33
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VonBek vs Yurtz

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Yurtz was thirty paces behind Avalon, catching up to the Dark Angel in hopes that the two could make a stand together instead of separately. The distance was closing as the Dark Angel rounded a corner, but to Yurtz’s astonishment, the terminator was engulfed in a sphere of blue fire that felled the Space Marine. Moving forward even quicker, Yurtz could see the feet of the terminator-clad Dark Angel moving as some unseen opponent turned his body over. Too far to engage the enemy directly, Yurtz brought the plasma pistol up as he approached the corner his new enemy was behind. He heard the heavy footsteps as the traitor moved closer to the corner; and quietly whispered a prayer to the Primarch that his aim would be true.

Still laughing as he rounded the corner, VonBek was surprised to see another white-armoured opponent before him. Unlike the one he had just slain, however, this one was in standard power armour and the armour was a pure white instead of the bone white of the last one. Instead of the crimson sword and wing motif of Jonson’s legion, this one bore the stylized lightning bolt badge of Jaghatai Khan’s legion. A White Scar, then, one whose forebears had defended Terra from the Warmaster’s attack. Killing this one would be that much sweeter.

This one was bringing his pistol to bear on him so the sorcerer had to act quickly. VonBek rapidly backstepped as he summoned the Warp energy to attack his foe at range. Feeling the energy build up around him, VonBek released the azure bolt at the White Scar before his opponent could fire.


Yurtz sensed the sorcerous attack before it was launched. The twin lightning claws of the terminator-clad opponent meant that he had no ranged attack, yet he did not charge forward. The White Scar somehow knew that his opponent’s gestures and mumbling presaged a sorcerous attack, doubtless one much like that which had slain Avalon. The roiling blue flames confirmed his suspicion and Yurtz knew that he had one chance. As the traitor sent the gathered energy hurtling towards him, Yurtz dropped to the deck in a low kneeling stance. Feeling the seering heat of the magical bolt pass over him, Yurtz squeezed the trigger on his plasma pistol twice in quick succession. Yurtz had his own fiery attack.

To VonBek’s dismay, the White Scar anticipated his attack and dropped beneath the Bolt of Change. The cerulean fireball crashed into the hangar controls over a dozen meters behind the loyalist, twisting them beyond recognition and preventing further blast seals from being locked. VonBek heard the hiss of the superheated plasma coming his way, but was too surprised to react. To his great relief, the first blast hit him in the shoulder. Even though it penetrated the thick armour, it failed to damage him significantly. The second blast, however, hit him square in the chest.

As the seering agony overtook him, he staggered into the nearest bulkhead, focusing his will into a last feat of transferring his psyche into the very matter of the loyalist vessel. As he felt his consciousness fade he struggled to taunt the loyalist, “All is as it should be. This is the will of Tzeentch. You change nothing. It was no mistake that I was the last, no mistake that I am here, and no mistake that it was you who stole my life. You … are … a …. Pawn.” Then oblivion took him.


Yurtz watched with some small sense of satisfaction as the creature stumbled backward, broken and defeated. Through his vox comm he could hear the “all clear” from his fellow Marines in the hangar. On the ground he could see the smoking ruin of the traitor who was last, blasphemous runes covering his armour and heretical badge declaring his servitude to the Lord of Change.

Yurtz snorted spitefully as he saw that it all burned nicely.

Victory to Yurtz

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#34
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An unfortunately quick end to VonBek's rampage through the loyalists.

Stand by for further fluff detailing how the other battle zones on the Divine Hunter conclude. Once we're done with that, we'll get closure on the surviving loyalists to see who the Last Man Standing will be.

Bragging rights to the loyalists as a whole for this one.

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#35
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ROUND 5

Fight 1 - Darium vs Yurtz - Victory to Darium
Fight 2 - Du'Tek vs Radamanthys - Victory to Du'Tek
Fight 3 - Gideon vs Håkan - Victory to Håkan

This round represents non-lethal sparring between the survivors upon the return of the Divine Hunter to one of the Battle Barges of the Legio B&C.

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#36
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Darium vs Yurtz

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The Legio Bolter & Chainsword Battle Barge Sword Bearer was like no battle barge any of the new recruits had ever seen. The battle-brothers of the mysterious Legio were everywhere, drawn from what seemed like each of the Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes. The black armour of the Legio did much to present the illusion of uniformity, but the Chapter badges worn on the right shoulders of the battle-proclaimed their differences, as did varieties in accent, fighting styles, and any number of idiosyncratic differences. Unlike the other battle-brothers of the Legio, the survivors of the attack on the Divine Hunter still wore the colors of their parent Chapters. Their indoctrination into the Legio was still underway and they hadn’t joined their Great Companies yet. Under the tutelage of the Brother Captain and Veteran Sergeant, however, they were well underway and would join their new Companies in a matter of days.

Today was combat training.

The attack on the Divine Hunter had been analyzed. In addition to trying to retrieve certain secrets from the strike cruiser, the traitors had been attempting to scuttle the ship. Demolitions had been found inside the Dreadclaws, and several Dreadclaws had been rigged to blow. Fortunately, the force of their impact with the Divine Hunter had ruined the detonation mechanisms, leaving some dangerous cargo in the main hangar. The techmarines and servitors of the Legio had identified the hazard and disposed of it accordingly.

What if the Dreadclaws had blown? That was the scenario being enacted in the training session. The Brother Captain had set up the parameters of the training session after consulting with the techmarines.

Zero gravity.

None of the six survivors from the main hangar had ever fought in zero gravity. Under the watchful eye and caustic tongue of the Veteran Sergeant they had learned.

The key to zero gravity fighting had been to learn how to control movement, both the movement of their bodies within the zero gravity environment and the movement of their limbs and weapons. Unless assisted by jump packs, once a body began moving in zero gravity it would continue in the same direction at the same speed until it found something to push off of. The recoil of weapons and the motion of swinging weapons impacted movement, causing bodies to spin in unexpected ways. The battle-brothers had learned to control their movements and actions.

Today was a test day.

Their weapons had been replaced with non-lethal simulations – rods, spring mounted claws, bolters that fired soft rounds that simply marked what they hit instead of penetrating and exploding within. The battle-brothers of the Legio were few and far between and every effort was made to ensure that none died or were seriously injured unnecessarily. The training had to be tough and realistic, though, so they wouldn’t be pulling any punches. Accidents had been known to happen in training, so an Apothecary and med-servitors were on hand.

All six of the survivors from the main hangar were on hand. Veteran Sergeant Tyler had given them their briefing while the Brother Captain had stood to the side, letting the Sergeant take charge. The training room was a spherical chamber with small protuberances jutting forth from the bulkheads. The protuberances weren’t large enough to provide any cover, but were just large enough for a Space Marine to grab and adjust his momentum as desired. They were scattered about in a random fashion. One end of the sphere was a window allowing the observers to clearly see the entire range of the sphere. Each combatant would start on opposite sides of the sphere. The object was to put two distinct marks on the opponent’s armour. Each of the weapons, whether ranged or melee, left a colored mark when it hit. If the Veteran Sergeant judged the mark to be significant enough, it would count as a wound. The first one to wound his opponent twice would be the winner.

It was understood that this was to be non-lethal training – no permanent injuries were to be inflicted.

Each of these battle-brothers was tough and capable, though, and the relationship they had developed spoke volumes. There was no animosity between any of them, but blood would be spilled in the interest of winning. Each understood this concept, and each accepted it as a warrior.

Each of the six battle-brothers had drawn lots. Darium of the Blood Angels and Yurtz of the White Scars had drawn the first fight. The two combatants had gone to the hatches on the ends of the sphere and entered the zero gravity chamber.

From his starting point, Darium looked at Yurtz and said, “I hope you’ve remembered the litany of cleaning – you’ll need it for your armour when I’m done with you.”

The White Scar had gained a reputation for intensity. He stood silent as he awaited the signal to begin from the Veteran Sergeant.

“GO!”

Darium knew that his only chance was to close the distance and get into melee range with his opponent fast. His weapons left him without recourse to ranged combat, and his opponent had a plasma pistol. Well, a simulated plasma pistol, he reminded himself. The Blood Angel immediately pushed off toward the bulkhead to his right, spinning his body in order to make himself a harder target.

Yurtz brought his simulated plasma pistol up. This weapon was very close to the one he was used to carrying. He had test fired it and found its aim to be true. Seeing the Blood Angel being moving toward his left, brought his body into a compact position for stability and fired two shots at the spinning red target.

The first round impacted one the shoulder pad of his opponent, leaving a small line of blue paint across the black blood drop symbol. The second round impacted square on the back of his spinning target, leaving a large blue splatter mark.

"I glimpsed your battle against Archeion. Well done. I was unable to slaughter any of that Chaos Lord's slaves." Yurtz had punished the Emperor's Children to death, purged one of Nurgle's gassy servants, and outwitted a twisted minion of the Lord of Change. The Blood Angel, towering in his terminator armor, made him nervous. The White Scars were noted for savagery, but the Blood Angels were infamous for it. He had avoided speaking with the Blood Angel, feeling more at home with Hakan than with the others. There was a glint in Darium's eye. "You do realize this is training, correct?" Yurtz added.

“One hit to Yurtz” said the Veteran Sergeant as Darium came to a quick crouching position on the bulkhead. The Blood Angel immediately sprang forward, diving straight at his opponent with his simulated claws straight out with the intent to spear the White Scar on them.

The recoil of the simulated plasma pistol had brought Yurtz’ arm up, stretching his body out into a vulnerable position. As he moved to cover his torso, Darium impacted with him.

Twin lightning claws were a highly effective weapon in real combat. The simulated claws Darium wore were only less effective in that they were spring loaded and gave under pressure, not tearing through armour as their real-life counterparts would. Darium’s attack and Yurtz’ momentary vulnerability combined to what would have been lethally devastating effect. Both of Darium’s claws hit true on the torso of the White Scar, simulating claws scoring several large red trails across the once-pristine white armour of Yurtz. The momentum of the terminator-clad Blood Angel carried him into Yurtz, and the two battle-brothers became quickly entagled, then bounced off the bulkhead and floated out of control into the sphere.

Even as the White Scar brought his own weapons to bear, though, the marks across his abodomen were clear to see. Such marks would have been fatal, even to the superhuman physique of a Space Marine.

“Two marks for Darium. Victory.” The Veteran Sergeant’s voice boomed within the sphere and over the comm net. As the two tumbled into the bulkhead, the Veteran Sergeant turned the gravity back on with a mischevious glint in his eye. The two fell to the bottom of the sphere.

Yurtz cursed his slow reactions. Perhaps he was getting old. Perhaps he should mount his bike and run this monster down next time. Ah well, it could be worse, the dubiously behaved Blood Angel appeared in control, and didn't seem about to roll his eyes backward and slash wildly. "Help me up!" Yurtz growled, "and try not to run me through with those things."

Darium laughed good naturedly as the two disentagled themselves and stood up.

Victory to Darium

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#37
Brother Tyler

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Du’Tek vs Radamanthys

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The two combatants entered the battle room at opposite ends, the Salamander taking the position Yurtz had held and the Brazen Claw taking Darium’s former position. Each felt the shift in gravity from standard to nothing, felt the weightlessness and its effects on their movement and control. They had trained in this environment numerous times since the Divine Hunter had made rendezvous with the Sword Bearer, although previous training evolutions had been done solo with target drones or training servitors. This would be the first time they faced living opponent in the zero gravity scenario, and each was anxious.

The blue and red quartered scheme of the Brazen Claw was an interesting contrast to the green of his Salamander opponent. Radamanthys wielded the most basic weapons of the Adeptus Astartes – bolt pistol and chainsword. Simulations for each of these weapons were readily available – a standard pistol firing colored pellets and a flexible rod that was left a residue on whatever it hit. Radamanthys’ color for this bout was red.

Du’Tek’s heavy frame belied a quiet intensity. His normal weapons were a massive thunder hammer and a cape created from the hide of one of Nocturne’s famous firedrakes. The thick scaly hide afforded the Space Marine a certain degree of protection, akin to a shield. The manipulation of the small cape was quite unlike a normal storm shield, however. While his hammer had been replaced by a stun rod for the training, he retained the firedrake cape. The cape floated lazily in the zero gravity room. This was something Du’Tek hadn’t quite grown accustomed to. He had first compensated for this effect by whipping the cape into a slow small circle at his side, attempting to keep some impetus behind the cape so that he could use it in a manner he was used to. He had found, however, that this constant spinning had forced him to constantly push with his other side in order to keep from shifting his body to the right. In the end he had decided to simply let the cape float until he reached close range, then he would move it in a defensive pattern. He hadn’t quite mastered this yet, but he was making rapid progress. The zero gravity of the training room was mildly uncomfortable to him – his home world was heavy in gravity. While he applied himself diligently, he looked forward to moving on to other environments and situations in which to train. Anxious to begin, his body was coiled for immediate action.

(Du’Tek) Are you ready young one?

“Begin!” Suddenly the voice of the Veteran Sergeant reverberated within the training room, signaling the start of the combat.

Both combatants reacted as fast as they could, the larger Salamander moving a split second after the Brazen Claw. Each launched his body toward the wall opposite the observation window, although Radamanthys aimed his body a big higher than his opponent. Du’Tek, who had no ranged weapons, simply brought his body into a compact sphere, hoping to present as small a target as possible to his bolt-pistol armed opponent.

Knowing that he was at a disadvantage in close quarters, Radamanthys sought to use his advantage in ranged firepower. Stretching his body as much as possible, he fired the simulated bolt pistol at the Salamander. Despite the smaller target presented by his opponent, Radamanthys’ aim was good and the colored pellet impacted on the green sphere of the Salamander. The pellet left a red mark on the left thigh of the Salamander.

As each combatant neared the bulkhead, Radamanthys waited to hear the call of a hit. The Veteran Sergeant didn’t seem to judge such an impact as significantly harming the target, however, and didn’t award the Brazen Claw a hit.

Radamanthys reached the surface ahead of his opponent, and deftly flipped over so that his feet would touch the bulkhead first. As his feet made contact, he saw Du’Tek’s body release from the compact sphere in order to properly contact the wall. As he did so, the Brazen Claw dove down, simulated chainsword arcing in for the attack.

Bracing his legs and stun rod against the bulkhead, Du’Tek barely had time to react to the incoming attack. Turning his body inward toward the wall and bringing the scaled cape up, he deflected the attack. Radamanthys had expected this defense, though, and used the momentum imparted by the parry to spin his body around, driving his boot into the abdomen of Du’Tek. The blow wasn’t meant as an attack, but succeeded in throwing Du’Tek’s balance and grip off so that he wasn’t able to effectively defend against the follow on strike with the “chainsword”. As his legs had spun around, his upper body had followed and the chainsword swept across the right shoulder pad, leaving a large red slash.

“Hit for Radamanthys!” called the Veteran Sergeant.

First blood to the Brazen Claw. He knew this wouldn’t deter his opponent, though, so he didn’t let up. Feinting out with the pistol, he sought to force an opening in the Salamander’s defense.

Du’Tek wasn’t fooled, though. He had expected the feint and wasn’t surprised when the rod simulating the chainsword thrust out towards his abdomen. He had recovered from the earlier blow from Radamanthys’ boot and his scaled cape swept over the rod, ensnaring it. Du’Tek used his strength and better leverage to pull Radamanthys, causing the Brazen Claw to lurch in an effort to gain purchase on the bulkhead.

He was too slow, however, and the stun rod described a sweeping arc coming down on Radamanthys’ suddenly exposed body. The Brazen Claw attempted to ward the blow off with his pistol, but he lacked the leverage necessary. The stun rod impacted with his arm, blue sparks flashing and numbing the arm. The force of the blow carried the stun rod through the block, pushing the arm down into Radamanthys’ body where the sparks danced upon his armour. Radamanthys’ unanchored body was suddenly thrust back heavily, and the effects of the stun rod prevented him from being able to stop from crashing into the bulkhead.

The Brazen Claw was chagrined to notice that his chainsword was still entangled in the cape of his opponent as he hit the wall. Looking down, he saw the green mark across his arm and the larger green mark upon his chest. He knew the outcome before Veteran Sergeant Tyler spoke the words.

“Two hits for Du’Tek. Victory to the Salamander.”

Still feeling the numbness in his arm and spasms in his body from the stun rod, Radamanthys looked up into the cheerful face of his opponent. The dark-skinned Salamander offered, “You have fought well, just as I thought. I will be sure to notify my successor to this.” The Salamander then put his hand forward, taking his comrade by the arm and lifting him as the gravity in the room suddenly returned to normal.

Victory to Du’Tek.

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#38
Brother Tyler

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Gideon vs Håkan

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Gideon and Håkan faced each other from across the battle room, ready to do battle. Each bore his storm shield, but the primary weapons of each had been replaced by some non-lethal substitute. Gideon, the Black Templar, bore a padded gauntlet marked with red powder, representative of the power fist he normally bore in battle. His opponent, the Space Wolf Håkan, carried a stun rod that was to simulate the thunder hammer he normally carried.

Triggering his vox-emitter, Gideon spoke aloud, "Brother Marine!! I challenge you to a test of faith within our Emperor. As no man who is pious and true shall fall in battle. The Emperor lifts up his chosen and honors them with martial prowess. Prepare to meet your challenge Son of Russ."

The Space Wolf lifted his stun rod as a signal that the challenge was received, then answered, “Your combat prowess has honoured your chapter, Brother Gideon. I will have a mighty good time to see if you are my match. If I win, the ale is on you.”

Hailing from a Chapter that frequently partook of feasts, Gideon nodded his head as a silent assent to the wager. While his Chapter was much more strict in its devotions, he had gained a healthy respect for his less cultured comrade after observing the Space Wolf’s prowess in combat. Håkan’s defeat of the demagogue had been masterful, and Gideon resolved to do better than the traitor had done.

The silence was broken by the Veteran Sergeant’s command, “Begin!” The battle was on.

Both combatants remained in position, taking measure of their opposition.

Suddenly the Black Templar dove straight forward, ignoring the strategy of maneuvering about the surface of the spherical training room in favor of attacking his foe head-on. His movement was head first, leading with the storm shield and fist cocked back ready to strike. For his part, Håkan prepared by shifting weight slightly and bringing his own shield to bear and readying the stun rod.

As the two came into contact, each struck out. Attacking in unison, the stink of ozone filled the air as each combatant’s storm shield blocked the incoming attack. Braced against the bulkhead, Håkan was able to shift his opponent’s attack upward, exposing the abdomen of Gideon. The Black Templar’s block was head on and poorly supported due to his flying into the attack. The storm shield of the Space Wolf remained at the ready.

Struggling to regain footing as his momentum carried him to the bulkhead, Gideon was unable to adequately cover his vulnerable torso. Immediately taking advantage, Håkan swept his stun rod around into the Black Templar’s abdomen with all of his might. As the rod drove into Gideon’s gut, electric sparks danced from the weapon into the body of Gideon. Fully braced against the bulkhead, Håkan drove the rod with his full strength, folding Gideon’s body with the power of his attack. The audible grunt of pain announced the force of the blow even as the large blue mark on Gideon’s armour displayed the effectiveness of the attack.

As Gideon crashed headlong into the wall, Veteran Sergeant Tyler announced “Killing blow for Håkan. Victory.”

Watching the still twitching form of his adversary, Håkan jested, “We have Blood Claws fighting better than that.” His mocking smile told his opponent of his intent.

“Follow me Gideon, Space Marine of the Black Templars, you will have your chance winning at the feasting table. Your hand seems like a very appropriate to place a tankard in. Brother marine, take your place next to me and tell me the tale of Gideon.”

Taking the hand of the Space Wolf, Gideon answered, “You are a most formidable warrior Håkan. Your strength and skill has bested me and is mostly inspiring. I yearn for the day that I may battle the foes of the Imperium again at your side brother. You truly embody the ferocity of your Fenrisian wolves. You do your chapter very proud brother Håkan."

The two opened the hatch and exited the battle room before Veteran Sergeant Tyler could reactivate the gravity.

Victory to Håkan.

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#39
Brother Tyler

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ROUND 6

Fight 1 - Darium vs Du'Tek - Victory to Darium
Fight 2 - Darium vs Håkan - Victory to Håkan
Fight 3 - Håkan vs Du'Tek - Victory to Du'Tek

(Quick rundown of each fight)

Fight 1 Darium's lightning claws cut Du'Tek to ribbons before the latter got a chance to strike back (Black Rage, Salamander's slowness, slowness of thunder hammers - each would have worked out the same).

Fight 2 Håkan's Runic Charm saves the day for him, then his thunder hammer flattens the Blood Angel.

Fight 3 Each actually "killed" the other, but Du'Tek did so by wounding twice while Håkan only wounded once (refer to the standard AoD rules for this).

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#40
Brother Tyler

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ROUND 7

Preliminary Fight - Darium vs Du'Tek - Victory to Du'Tek

Championship Fight - Håkan vs Du'Tek - Victory to Håkan

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#41
Brother Tyler

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Darium vs Du'Tek

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Just days out from the destination of the Battle Barge Sword Bearer, Veteran Sergeant Tyler put his charges through more one-on-one combat scenarios. Having put the zero gravity sessions behind them (for now), the new recruits of the Legio Bolter & Chainsword found themselves fighting in low light environments. Once again they fought with non-lethal weapons that approximated as closely as possible the weapons they normally carried. Due to the limited visibility, these weapons were fitted with sensors that caused servitor skulls within the room to emit noises - different noises indicating both who had been hit and what they had been hit with. The volume of the noise was the key indicator of the severity of the hit - slight contacting giving off no more than a whisper while mortal blows resulting in blood-curdling shrieks.

The auto-senses incorporated into Space Marine armour, as well as the augmentations undergone by all Space Marines, enhanced the normal senses of the Adeptus Astartes. Some Chapters, like the Space Wolves, possessed senses even more keen. Darkness was little hindrance to Space Marines, especially when wearing their helmets. For this training session, each combatant would fight without his helmet and artificial sensors, relying instead on his own senses. Instead of darkness, the battle room was filled with a musky mist that obscured sense of vision and smell alike. The most sensitive among them might be able to discern variations, but this would take work and, more importantly, attention. The goal of the training described by the Veteran Sergeant was to force the recruits to use their other senses.

Not only was the room filled with mist, it was also ankle-deep with fetid water over a gravel base. The water was fed by a slow-dripping source that added to the sensory confusion, the regular sound of splashing water and the echo of that sound off the bulkheads further obfuscating the situation. Any movement would be audible both in the sound of gravel shifting and the displacement of water, but the combatants would have to be paying attention.

Visibility was extremely limited, the space of two arms breadths or so. The shifting mist created illusions, causing each combatant to see spectral opponents that weren't there.

Before entering the battle room, the recruits had been assembled for a briefing by the Veteran Sergeant. Their goal here was to learn to focus their other senses in order to achieve victory. After receiving the briefing, each had drawn lots to determine their opponent. Darium of the Blood Angels had been matched against Du’Tek of the Salamanders. As they departed the briefing room, Du’Tek accosted Darium.

“Your chapter has a history of being quite borderline. In my eyes you are no different than a follower of the foul Blood God. I have even bested the greatest champions of his. Your rage will get the best of you, and if it is to show, I will make sure you are put down.”

Darium bristled at the words of his opponent. Was it possible that this outsider knew of the genetic curse of the Blood Angels line? Impossible – the descendants of Sanguinius had gone to great lengths to hide their curse. Mistakes had been made, to be sure, but these had resulted in nothing more than rumors and speculation that was easy to ignore or deny. Darium did not like the thought that this Salamander might somehow know of the genetic memories that haunted those who carried the blood of Sanguinius in their veins. He refused to confirm Du’Tek’s suspicions, if that’s what they were. Instead, he only looked his opponent in the eye and scowled. Inwardly, though, his rage simmered.

As the others filed out of the room for the observation chamber, Darium and Du’Tek turned in opposite directions so that they might enter the battle room from different ends. When both had entered the battle room, Veteran Sergeant Tyler bellowed “Begin” from the observation room. Each then began searching for his opponent in the murky room.

Moving along as silently as possible, Darium vented his frustration in his head. By his account he could have been blindfolded and he would have been no worse off. The bulky tactical dreadnought armour could cause a lot of noise if he didn't pay attention to his stealth, so his movement was extremely limited and deliberate. Even as he moved he strained his senses to detect his opponent creeping around somewhere out there in the misty battle room.

Du'Tek smiled inwardly as he navigated the battle room. The inventiveness of the training regimen had been refreshing, putting the recruits into situations that forced them to think and adapt. The normal training of the Legiones Astartes were by no means stagnant or predictable, but the training of the Legio Bolter & Chainsword was quite different than anything Du'Tek had ever gone through. Granted, he told himself, his training was limited to that undergone within the Salamanders Chapter; but the variety of training scenarios pursued by the sons of Vulkan had once seemed limitless. Du'Tek was learning that he still had much to learn.

Stalking forward, stun rod at the ready, Du'Tek thought he heard a sound off to his left. He instantly froze in order to better hear any faint sounds.

There it was again - the soft sound of gravel shifting underfoot. It was difficult to gauge distance in the mist, but Du'Tek judged that the sound was about eight or so paces away. He slowly shifted his weight in order to prepare to surprise his opponent, who seemed to be nearing him. He realized his mistake too late when he triggered the switch that activated the stun rod. The low humming surely betrayed his position to his opponent.

Darium stopped in mid-stride as he heard the unmistakable sound of an activated stun rod. The low humming of the weapon told him exactly where his opponent was. “Let’s end this nonsense and settle this fight,” he called out in challenge.

Du’Tek answered without words, charging forward in order to engage his opponent. For his own part, Darium did likewise, charging forth with a mighty warcry. The two clashed, gravel and water flying as their armoured forms crashed together.

Knowing that his lightning clawed opponent would use the classic engagement technique with his claws, Du’Tek had entered the fray by swinging his chain cape in a defensive pattern. The act spoiled the initial attacks of Darium’s claws, parrying one to the side as the cape wrapped around the other. Sensing his momentary advantage, Du’Tek tugged on the cape in order to pull his opponent off-balance while bringing his stun rod back in preparation for a mighty blow.

The strength of his opponent was greater than he’d thought it would be, though, and Darium retained his balance. Worse, he quickly reacted with the free claw and drove it straight forward into Du’Tek’s chest. The piercing shriek of a servo skull announced to all the severity of the blow Darium had inflicted.

Unflappable, Du’Tek persisted in his attack. Locked together, it was impossible for him to miss, and he brought the stun rod crashing down into the neck of the Blood Angel. Du’Tek didn’t need to hear the barking roar of the servo skull to know that his blow had been devastating for the stun rod took its effect on Darium. As the rod made contact, sparks leapt out and engulfed the head, neck and shoulders of the Blood Angel. Momentarily twitching uncontrollably, Darium quickly collapsed under the combined power of the blow and effect of the stun rod.

As Darium’s unconscious body slumped to the wet gravel below, Du’Tek said, “Patience and skill will always win over Rage and Blind-Power”.

Victory to Du’Tek

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#42
Brother Tyler

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+ CHAMPIONSHIP FIGHT +

Du’Tek vs Håkan

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The green-armoured Space Marine almost felt comfortable. The techmarines and servitors had performed their rites upon the battle room, increasing the gravity so that it approximated that found on Nocturne, Du’Tek’s homeworld. That was where the resemblance to Nocturne stopped, however. Instead of the magma floes and atmosphere of Nocturne the battle room was extremely cold. Whatever esoteric rites the techmarines had performed, a chill wind was blowing through the battle room and a thin layer of ice particles had settled on the deck so that Du’Tek’s heavy boots sank to his ankles as he trudged forward. The crunching of the ice crystals was indistinguishable in the howling wind that the techmarines had created, a wind that chilled the air even further and carried even more of the ice particles. The ice-filled winds reduced visibility severely and Du’Tek could see no further than a few meters in front of him. Du’Tek of the Salamanders moved forward cautiously, stun rod and scale cape ready to engage his opponent who also stalked him.

Håkan felt the wolf within him stir. The familiarity of his surroundings instilled him with confidence. The near blizzard-like conditions were reminiscent of Fenris, although the gravity was almost oppressively high. He hunted the Salamander in the snow, straining to detect his opponent’s scent. The wind patterns within the room were too confusing, though. They did not follow a natural pattern. Instead, they shifted in no recognizable pattern. Even in those moments when he scented his opponent, he was unable to determine the location of the Salamander Space Marine. Håkan’s brow furrowed in mild frustration. No matter – if he couldn’t surprise the Salamander he would simply have to best him in combat.

* * *

The briefing from the Veteran Sergeant had been concise. The battle room would be set up so that it was familiar to both combatants, but favorable to neither. The opponents would enter the battle room at random openings, then have to stalk each other. The Space Marines and their weapons had been fitted with training auspices that detected blows and transmitted to servo skulls. The skulls would emit sounds indicative of the force of the blow and who had been hit. As with the other training sessions, the first one to score two hits would be the winner. As before, however, effective blows with the stun rods would be fatal in a manner similar to the thunder hammers they represented.

Both combatants were armed with thunder hammers. First blood would mean the end of the battle.

Throughout the training sessions, Håkan and Du’Tek had each collected the most impressive records against their compatriots. Just a day away from the secret destination of the Legio Bolter & Chainsword battle barge Sword Bearer, this match was to be the last of the individual combats. The winner of this match would be the champion of whatever contest the Veteran Sergeant and Brother Captain had devised.

Each was determined to be that champion.

Leaving the briefing room, the two Space Marines clasped hands in the traditional warrior’s handshake – left hands grasping the left forearms. Håkan looked up into the face of his taller comrade and said, “Brother Du´Tek, I see that your weapon of choice is a very wise one. Your skill to wield the holy thunder hammer is high indeed. Today we will find out who is the most skilled.”

The Salamander took the challenge with a slight grin, for the two had developed a bond of respect in the past few weeks. “Let’s hope you are as skilled as I with that weapon you carry....”

The two smiled in respectful jest, then released their grips and headed towards their respective entrances. Though they were comrades in arms and held each other in respect, neither would hold back in the upcoming struggle.


***

Pausing in his movement, Du’Tek peered into the gloom ahead. Was that a shadow he discerned? The shape was not far off and would pass near his current position in moments. He crouched down slowly in wait.

Håkan thought he smelled something as he moved. It was the scent he associated with the Salamander. He was close. The scent was infused with hormones that spoke of anxiety. Du’Tek had detected him first! Håkan felt the predator within come to the fore – the hunter had become the hunted. He immediately froze and cast about him for the presence of his adversary.

There he was!

Du’Tek knew instantly that the Space Wolf had sensed him. A surprise attack was out of the question. All the better. He relaxed his crouch, coming up to his full height. Wishing he held his thunder hammer, he held the replacement stun rod out in salute and called out, “Well met, battle brother. Let’s end this.”

Håkan nodded his head in recognition.

Both stood ready, augmented bodies coiled for instant action.

With a bestial roar, the Space Wolf charged forward. The Salamander answered, “For Vulkan” as he counter-charged.

The two came to blows as they reached melee range, swinging the weighted stun rods with blows that would fell a normal man. Du’Tek’s first blow was high, designed to put the Space Wolf on the defensive. It succeeded, forcing Håkan to slow his momentum and bring his shield up to block. While a real thunder hammer would probably have battered through the shield and arm that held it, the stun rod lacked the power necessary and merely deflected high over the Space Wolf’s head.

Håkan’s counterattack was a thrust at the Salamander’s abdomen. Such a blow could accomplish little against a Space Marine, but it succeeded in stalling any follow-on strikes by Du’Tek.

The two circled each other warily, stun rods weaving hypnotic patterns as a ready defense that set up for offensive.

Each took stock of the other. Both seemed feral, barbaric in the eyes of his counterpart. Du’Tek saw in the fangs of his opponent the taint of mutation. Håkan saw in the facial scars of the Salamander obeisance to some cult no son of Russ could understand. Each knew, however, that his adversary was a warrior every bit as potent as himself, both descendants of the Primarchs who were second only the Emperor.

Suddenly Håkan leapt forward, aiming a wide swing at the torso of Du’Tek. Despite the size of the Salamander, he was able to blade his body back and swing the scaled cape he carried for defense, fouling the attack and ensnaring the stun rod. Quickly re-setting his feet for purchase, he tugged at the small cape and pulled his opponent in to him, into the downward swinging stun rod. The canny Space Wolf had expected this tactic, however, and intercepted the blow with his storm shield. Twisting his stun rod as he bashed the Salamander in the face with his shield, Håkan succeeded in breaking free. Knocked back by the blow with the shield, Du’Tek swung out blindly with his stun rod and felt it connect. The blow was ineffective, though, and merely grazed the left shoulder pad of his opponent.

The faint yelp from a servo skull in the observation room announced to the Brother Captain, Veteran Sergeant, and assembled recruits that one of the participants in the struggle had scored a weak hit. It was readily apparent to each, however, that the blow would have achieved nothing in real combat.

Taking advantage of his opponent’s momentary instability, Håkan quickly lunged in, swinging his stun rod mightily. The first blow impacted on the abdomen, temporarily numbing the Salamander. The force of the blow was blunted by the scaled cape, though, preventing it from inflicting any serious damage.

A quick shriek from a servo skull announced the blow to the observers. The Veteran Sergeant seemed not to notice, however, deciding that the blow had been ineffective.

Håkan feinted with his shield, drawing the Salamander’s stun rod into a defensive parry. The feint proving successful, he continued the downward pressure with the shield and was satisfied to feel his opponent pushing upward with the stun rod. Too fast for Du’Tek to react to, he released the pressure with his shield and spun around. As Du’Tek’s arm lurched upward with the removed resistance, Håkan’s stun rod crushed into the exposed chest of the Salamander. The force of the blow knocked Du’Tek to the deck, body spasming with the effects of the stun rod.

The piercing wail from the servo skull in the observation room heralded the fatal blow from Håkan.

Veteran Sergeant Tyler’s voice came over the comm net, “Killing blow, Håkan!”

The Veteran Sergeant’s new bionic arm motioned to the Techmarine who quickly fingered some runes on the control device on his wrist. The wind blowing in the battle room immediately abated, clearing the air of the ice particles in a matter of moments.

By the time the air had cleared, Du’Tek had regained his feet and the two opponents stood facing each other. They clasped hands in the warrior’s grip again.

Looking into the eyes of his defeated opponent, Håkan said, “Your skill did you justice, Salamander. You were a worthy opponent even though you did a slight mistake. Mistakes do not let you live on the battlefield.”

Sensing the jest, Du’Tek smiled and returned, “Now, about that Ale...”

Victory to Håkan

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Håkan of the Space Wolves
Divine Hunter Arena of Death

Last Man Standing

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