The Reaper's Hammer Crusade: Upholding the First Born Vow

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

My son and I actually played out the duel this past weekend. Sergeant vs Sword Brother, standard swords, 2 attacks each, roll-off for 1st attack unless an unanswered wound was caused in the last round. Surprisingly, the duel lasted 23 rounds! I took notes on the duel and will work out the fluff sometime soon.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

So, while I work out the details on the fluff for the duel (proving to be a bit more difficult than I anticipated), I have been working more on my Redemptor. I'm getting on to the finishing stages now, so I won't be putting up pics at this point until it is completed. I have run into a small snag though. I don't have a name.

 

Anybody want to weigh in on ideas?

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

​+++FLUFF ALERT+++

 

​​THE DUEL

​​(PRELUDE)

 

     Sword Brother Baledian had all but entirely balked at the nature of his summons. He knew his reticence was nearing the line of outright insubordination; a punishable offence for a standard rank Initiate and worthy of a flogging for a Neophyte should one ever be so critical of an order from their Marshal. However, the Sword Brethren were afforded more leeway when in a private setting. He had been drawn into Marshal Eidrich's office and stood behind closed doors. His voice was pitched not to carry beyond their confines.

     Both Astartes stood unhelmed, faces bared to one another. With carefully measured tones, Baledian questioned the timing, ​the madness ​to use his exact phrasing. His Crusader Squad was rounding out the final preparations for their coming engagement, and with the influx of supplies that the Ultramarines had brought in, had been in the process of overseeing the distribution to his squad. However, even as he voiced his frustrations and damned the timing of the honor duel with the pride-wounded Angorian, both Marshal and subordinate knew he would not disobey his orders.

     "Accept ​any ​challenge, no matter the odds." Marshal Eidrich intoned.

     Their oath and solemn vow, renewed for more than 10,000 years since the very beginning of the Eternal Crusade, effectively ended any further discussion on the matter. All further arguments died before they could form. He took a moment to clear his turbulent mind, donned his helm, and formally accepted his role as proxy in the duel.

     Baledian had no doubt of his skill with the blade he carried. Even without the power cell of the sword installed, it was a deadly weapon in the hand of any Sword Brother. The weight was marginally different without the power cell, less balanced and slightly heavier toward the blade tip now, but he was certain that he would overcome it.

     Marshal Eidrich led the procession of ten Black Templars Sword Brethren from their headquarters toward the now empty and quiet landing platform. with them were Tarin, whose ranks had recently added the young Cadon as an Initiate, Vorcticht, Azahim, Mikhael, Tolor, Wadesun, Sakur, Deltan and Samen. They formed the honor guard to their Marshal and his proxy for this bout. A few of them, especially Vorcticht, had bridled at not being the brother selected for the duel. Those that did not remained silent, their silence on the matter vocalizing their shared disdain more loudly than a battlefield war cry.

     Baledian marched a step behind and to the right of his Marshal, Samen left of him in a similar position. The other brethren fell in line behind them, forming two ranks. he kept his eyes ahead, fixed on the platform and his opponent.

     Where Marshal Eidrich had only brought his honor guard, ranks of Ultramarines stood in three silent disciplined ranks, thirty in all. Captain Victorian and Sergeant Angorian were the only two that stood forward on the platform itself. The Ultramarine Captain was helmetless, cradling it in the crook of his left arm, watching stoically as the Black Templar Contingent drew to the opposite side of the pad.

     Where his Captain stood firm, Sergeant Angorian was prepared for battle, sword already to hand. he wore his helm, and even with face and body covered by his cobalt armor, his posture alone radiated a pent up fury in waves only a well trained Astartes could detect.

     "He wants this too much," Mikhael voxed over their shared link, "It will make him dangerous."

     "And sloppy." Wadesun added curtly.

     "Enough." Marshal Eidrich cautioned, "There will be time enough after to share your insights with your brother. Until then, hold your tongues."

     Further discussion ended with clicks of acknowledgement from the other Brethren. 

     After they drew to a halt, Marshal Eidrich and Baledian strode forward to meet Captain Victorian and Sergeant Angorian in the center of the platform. His Marshal removed his own helm and stood face to face with the Captain with a weary expression.

     "Is there some decorum that must be observed? Rules to follow so as not to further impugn the honor of your Chapter?"

     A look of annoyance, followed closely by dumbfounded confusion, then dawning realization flashed across the Captain's face. All of these expressions passed in a mere heartbeat, so quickly that it could almost be said to have been imagined. before the static stone-etched stoicism returned.

     "Both combatants are to be unhelmed, placed five paces from one another. No other weapon than the honor blade shall be allowed. No firearms, combat knives or shields. As the commander of the challenger, I shall announce the commencement of the duel." He turned his eyes to Baledian. "This is not​ a fight unto death, Templar. No strikes shall fall against the exposed head."

     He turned his attention back to Eidrich, "Once begun, interference will not be tolerated from either side. The first combatant not able to mount attack or defense shall yield and end the duel. Does your champion accept these terms?"

     The recitation of the engagement rules reeked of formality, laid out with a deep expressionless tone. Baledian had come to expect this level of formality from his limited experience dealing with the sons of Guilliman. Their stiff-backed discipline and adherence to their Primarch's teachings were evident in everything about them.

     "The Black Templars accept the terms." Eidrich's stern reply echoed to all in attendance. 

     "Combatants to their marks!" Victorian bellowed with a nod.

     Baledian and his MArshal turned on their heels and took five steps back toward the honor guard. With a swift and deft movement, Baledian reached under his chin with his free hand, unlocking his helm with a hiss of escaping air and pulled it free. He held the white helm out to his Marshal, who accepted it casually. 

     Baledian's dark skin seemed to drink in the weak sunlight, reflecting lighter shades of brown from the high points of his cheek bones, nose, brow and chin. Three service studs imbedded at his left temple spoke to his 150 years of service. The dull metal glinted in the sunlight almost silver at their rounded apex. Taken as a young boy from the tropics of Mish, he was one of the few naturally dark skinned warriors in Eidrich's command. Although Astartes genetic engineering lightened or darkened every knights skin tone depending on a world's atmospheric conditions, he had never completely lost his natural hue. It was a point of pride for him to have this sliver of his origin remain.

     "Do not underestimate him, Baledian," Marshal Eidrich spoke lowly so as only he would hear, "Or overestimate yourself. He is a seasoned warrior, just as you are."

     He inclined his head smartly. No words were required.

     With that, MArshal Eidrich strode away back to the edge of the platform to stand amongst his knights. The gathering had grown while they met with the Ultramarines, filtering in a few at a time. Baledian was certain more would be arriving for both Chapters as the duel progressed.

     Baledian turned back to center and stepped to his five pace mark, taking in his competitor. Unhelmed now, his initial impression of Angorian was reinforced. The man seethed with barely restrained fury, glaring across the short distance between them. His chest now worked like a bellows in a forge, heaving angry breaths through clenched teeth.

     Baledian turned his sword tip down and gently placed it on the rockcrete between his feet. He knelt behind the sword, pressing the pommel to his forehead and closed his eyes. He whispered the words of a short Litany of Combat, then rose again, whipping the sword back to a ready position in a one-handed grip.

     "Angorian, Sergeant of the Ultramarines under Victorian's command, are you prepared?" Victorian called out from his vantage point near his own warriors.

     "I am prepared... Captain!" Angorian shouted his response with a curious pause at the end.

     "Baledian, Sword Brother of the Black Templars and proxy to Marshal Eidrich, are you prepared?" Victorian called out again.

     "I am, Captain!" Baledian called back.

     A momentary pause built tension, almost a solid force between the duelists.

     "BEGIN!" the order roared.

​+++

​     The hive citizens, looking down on the platform so recently used to land the blue Astartes aircraft through broken windows of palaces, offices and habitations, would tell the story of the two armored giants battling one another to any human they encountered for the rest of their lives. Those who survived the war for their planet would gather their children and grandchildren close and attempt to paint the images on their minds to pass down the generations to come. Some lucky few would recover vid spools of the duel and replay them at grand banquets for honored guests or auction them over and over for enormous sums. All who witnessed the duel would try to recapture the emotions of those moments. The awe of watching the massive genehanced warriors of the Imperium collide, or the horror they felt as the feared the unity of their protectors being torn apart.

     They would try, and ultimately fail in the end, to describe the cheering and cajoling from both sides, even those with the audio enhanced vid recordings. The 13,495th Planetary Governor  would even commission a pair of marble statues, one in white to commemorate the Ultramarine, the other in black to commemorate the Templar, on the site of the duel, the poses taken from a certified vid recording still image of the goliaths locked in combat. The site would be consecrated by the Ecclesiarchy, turned into a shrine that drew the denziens from the entire hive up to the central spire to visit. For much of the planet and surrounding system, it would become a pilgrimage destination.

     However, mere human minds, life spans and attention would fade the event into myth, then further into legend. Multiple embellished retellings, aging vid spools, even the consecrated park would all pale to the actual event over time. As with all things in life, it was a moment that had to be witnessed first hand to be fully appreciated, even truly believed.

     There was no way, at that moment, that either Baledian or Angorian could know how this one event would echo into the future of this hive or planet. Their unique nature as Astartes had removed them so far from the human condition that it never even crossed their minds that this honor duel would even be remembered beyond the combat teams of Captain Victorian's Ultramarines or Marshal Eidrich's Crusade forces.

     There was only the now.

[Othniel's Blade]

Well done! Will you be describing the duel in detail or only highlighted memories/flashbacks after the result?

[Bjorn Firewalker]

'The Duel' is an excellent piece of worldbuilding, but why did the Ultramarines and Black Templars Captain name Champions for a duel? To avenge an insult to a Captain's honor? To determine who'll lead the joint Ultramarines-Templars force in a coming battle?

[Othniel's Blade]

Post #149. and I think an earlier one speaks of animosity between the two factions during combat.

[Hawklynn]

HERE IT IS!!!

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/333208-the-keeltonian-crusade/?p=4760528

[Marshal Laeroth]

So, for some reason...I have neglected to read your Crusade's fluff.  And now that I have...all I can say is:  More!  I need to know what is happening and who won!  Gah!  The raising of the Neophyte creates an intense character connection with the reader, so now he is a "hero" of sorts.  You inspire me to write fluff for my own Crusade.

[Captain Tiberius Victorian]

'The Duel' is an excellent piece of worldbuilding, but why did the Ultramarines and Black Templars Captain name Champions for a duel? To avenge an insult to a Captain's honor? To determine who'll lead the joint Ultramarines-Templars force in a coming battle?

Actually further back in our campaign, the Marshal struck this Sargent out of anger after repelling an earlier siege which brought to light a traitor in the Ultramarine Command. A rough/possessed contingent of 20 Ultramarines led by the contingents pysker which got 10 sword brothers killed. Not to mention we blueberries are all about that "Courage and Honor" IE the honor duel but the Sargent would be no match for a Templar Marshal that's why there is a proxy for the Marshal.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

To answer some of the questions, and reinforce the above statement, there has been an animosity between the two Chapters since the betrayal of 20 and 1 Librarian from further back in the fluff. Sword brethren were killed before being able to mount a defense when the traitors showed their hand, and Marshal Eidrich took his aggression out on the Ultramarine SGT by striking him after the battle. So we have the betrayed Black Templars stinging from the loss of some of the Crusade's best, and the dishonored but still loyal Ultramarines reeling from the shock of their own turning on them. The duel would normally be fought between the two most directly at odds, but due to the Marshals skill and position, CPT Victorian would not allow for the duel to be fought between those two. Instead, he allowed a Sword Brother to proxy for him.

This duel is designed to heal the forming rift between the two Chapters, allow Angorian to regain some honor by striking back at Marshal Eidrich's proxy, and also allow the Templars to test the loyalty of the remaining Ultramarines.

 

Now, there will be an almost blow by blow of the duel coming soon. I'm rounding off the writing, and cleaning up the rough draft now. It may be up as soon as this weekend.

 

I can't describe how happy I am to see so many that like these short snippets for this Crusade. I will keep the work coming so long as you like.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

​+++FLUFF ALERT+++

 

​THE DUEL

 

​     The order to begin, barked by Captain Victorian, was akin to removing a force field between two enraged groxes set to lock horns for gladiatorial amusement. Both warriors closed on one another in less time than an excited heart can beat, swords raised in the attempt to gain an early advantage on his opponent.

     Sword Brother Baledian was the first to do so, feinting right, then ducking under Sergeant Angorian's chest level swing, battering his sword into his midsection then into his back on the return chop. He turned in a low crouch in time to drop his shoulder pauldron for Angorian's aggressive return swing. The blow staggered him off balance, but he was still able to lower his sword to deflect a vicious chop at his trailing leg.

     Before he could regain steady ground, Angorian pressed him again, battering his sword aside and thrusting. Two shallow cuts were scored against his chest plate for the effort. However, in his drive to pierce his plate, Angorian had overextended himself, leaving his lower body vulnerable. Baledian pistoned his sword in sweeping archs from his crouch twice, glancing the Sergeant's lower leg to no effect, but scoring a deep gouge in the armor of his thigh.

     Angorian fought on, unfazed by the blows, raining a set of overhead swings down onto Baledian. He was barely able to dip away from them, his attacker's sword grazing off of one pauldron, then the other.

     Baledian finally regained sure footing in his crouch, and exploded upwards with a wild swing. Angorian easily deflected the haymaker blow, only to find Baledian turn  the deflection with lightning speed and spin it into a crushing slash, battering against his chest armor. Once again, however, the hardened ceramite held, a deep metallic gouge against the cobalt paint.

     Angorian roared as he came again, feinting several directions before hammering at Baledian's lower arms. He dodged and deflected the attack as best he could, but still had to sacrifice his already battered and weathered plate at his arms to fully deflect. New light scratches appeared against the faded black in order to avoid the sword tip's nearly killing strokes.

     A familiar tenseness crept upon Baledian's muscles then, akin to a snake that coils itself to strike with envenomed teeth. His hearts started hammering faster, his anger flying away from him wildly. It took a herculean amount of effort on his part to contain and control it in this engagement, but it was already too late to reign in for his counter attack. He swatted away Angorian's recovering guard with his free left hand and savagely thrust high, then low. The first strike bit deeply into Angorian's lowered shoulder pauldron. He tried to spin with the force of the thrust, but Baledian's next strike lashed out at the gouge he had already made at his thigh. The blade shrieked through the armor and into the softer flesh beneath. Baledian's sword came away with a thin line of blood at it's tip. Angorian grunted at the pain, swinging his injured leg behind him and changing his stance. A moment of disbelief crossed his face, replacing his fury.

     "Baledian draws first blood!" he heard Brother Vorcticht call out. A cheer rose up from his assembled brother knights, responded to by a crash of insults and words of encouragement for Angorian from the now loose assembly of Ultramarine spectators.

     Baledian pressed his new advantage and thrust out again, only scoring another grey line in the blue paint at Angorian's midsection before his sword was knocked away by an expertly timed riposte. Angorian lashed out again at his chest, only to find his sword piercing air as Baledian side stepped.

     Then, something unthinkable to Baledian happened. The blade that had passed swept to the side, striking his chest and staggering him once again. As he took a step to the rear to right himself, he dipped his pauldron low to deflect another thrust. Angorian's sword dipped lower still and pain flared in the bicep of his free arm. On instinct alone, Baledian slashed out and felt the flat of his blade smack against Angorian's midsection. Angorian's blade came free as he was pushed back.

     He felt the lance of pain dimly, annoyed with the feel of hot blood  flowing between his arm and armor and trickling out of the rent. Cheering erupted from his opponent's side at the sight of his own wounding.

     Angorian pressed a renewed attack, sliding his blade forward past his injured arm and driving the tip toward his abdomen. Baledian slashed down with his own sword to batter the blade about to pierce his armor again. Rather than take the time to bring his weapon to bare again, he slammed the pommel in a two handed grip into Angorian's chest, knocking the other marine back a half a step and opening a small space between the two.

     Both warriors clashed again, coming at one another from a high guard. The ring of the meeting blades temporarily drown out all other sound. This was the locked pose that would be rendered in exquisite marble in the future on this site, both Astartes glaring at one another through crossed blades, teeth grinding together in silent fury.

     Baledian broke the momentary stalemate by first thrusting his sword upward, then spinning with lightning speed. He brought his body and swing low again, slashing into Angorian's midsection armor. The scream of adamantium rending armor was high and loud, blood flowing out through another wound in his opponent.

     At almost the same time, a lance of pain flared in his own shoulder. He spared a quick glance to see Angorian's own blade had found it's way between his shoulder pauldron and chest armor, digging deeply into his flesh beneath. 

     Both Astartes cried out from the simultaneous wounds and recoiled from each other. 'He is a match for me, move for move,'​ Baledian thought. He felt the coiling within him intensify, but knew not to let his grip on it slip for even a moment. Restraint was needed, for this was not the killing ground of true war.

     He was the first to recover his wits and leapt at Angorian. He tried to hammer through his opponent's weakened defense, but only bit a chunk out of a shoulder pauldron for his efforts. Angorian's wounded belly was forcing the warrior to telegraph his counter attacks in advance of his attempts, and Baledian was able to easily deflect.

     They started circling one another with more caution now, both coming to see the other's skill with the blade as a match for their own. They struck out with testing blows that were either parried away or deflected by their armor as each probed the others defenses.

     Baledian opened his guard in a devious feint after several attempts by Angorian to strike at him. Angorian charged into the perceived opening, his sword biting into Baledian's exposed chest armor twice. On the second strike, the blade momentarily stalled, allowing Baledian the moment he had been waiting for. He brought his sword down from overhead, knocking the other blade clear of his own chest, then reversed the momentum and slashed into the same midsection wound he had already inflicted. Angorian cried out once again and staggered back away from him, trying to open a space to recover. Baledian pressed along with him, delivering two thrusts at Angorian's chest. Both struck at the same gouge he had created earlier, the second breaking through the plate and drawing new blood that oozed from the rent. Angorian swung recklessly, trying to force Baledian's advance to stall, but missing entirely.

     Baledian thrust out at Angorian's chest again, but too late discovered that his tactic had been measured and prepared for. Angorian turned his pauldron into the thrust, the tip digging deeply into the thick plate and sticking fast.

     With a primal roar of renewed rage, Angorian stabbed at his chest. The tip found the gouge there and finally pierced through. The flash of pain as the blade found flesh was enormous. He felt his rib plate crack with the stab, and thought a lung may have been punctured as well. Baledian fell back, finally wrenching his sword free of Angorian's armor.

     Both warriors, enraged but weary of the other, circled once again. Blades crashed against each other or from armor as the two goliaths collided over and over. Both matched defensive swings with offensive blows, neither giving the other an opening.

     The coiling within Baledian was near to being unavoidably set free., no matter how much control he attempted to exercise. Many attributed this to the zeal of a Black Templar and their misunderstood "belief in the Emperor of Mankind as a God", driving them to insane acts of combat heroism and fury. Many others considered it to be simply their eternally crusading nature, never remaining in one place in force for long. The truth, however, was not dogmatic or in their fleet-based nature. It had it's roots grown all the way back to the beginning of the Imperium, their first High Marshal and even to the Primarch of their parent legion. The Black Templars were founded with those of Dorn's blood and geneseed that best displayed his fury and combat acumen in close quarters. It had been a legacy of training and application since the first days that First High Marshal Sigismund was granted his own Chapter during the Second Founding.

     In combat, this legacy of fury and zeal were given free reign to flow. But, during training against a brother or cousin, it had to be aggressively restrained.

     The slowly closing wounds screamed at Baledian that this was no friendly bout or practice. Angorian was out for blood and fighting with no such restraint. He could feel his grip on those hard coils of rage and zeal slipping from his control every moment his own blood flowed from his wounds.

     A burst of rage escaped his grasp for but a heartbeat, but it was more than enough. He bellowed his hate at Angorian in a litany that only wild predators would truly understand, quickly closing the short distance. Reflecting back on the duel later as he meditated while apothecaries tended his wounds and tech servitors repaired his damaged armor, he could not recall how he had gotten through Angorian's expert guard and counter attacks. In that moment, his entire focus had been on ending his opponent. In a two handed grip to compensate for his injured shoulder, Baledian raised his sword high and slammed his shoulder pauldron into his opponent's chest to stagger him. His downward chop bit deeply into the armor between Angorian's gorget and pauldron, blade sparking madly at the meeting between screaming composites. He then brought the tip upwards in a thrust that caught the ridge between midsection and chest armor, sinking his blade deeply into and through the fiber bundles between and into the softer flesh. Baledian yanked savagely back on the strike to prevent it from becoming fatal.

     As he pulled back, Angorian slashed out wildly, his strength seeming to ebb. Blows rang from Baledian's armor ineffectually before he could recover his defense, causing almost no damage at all.

     Baledian lashed back in, swinging the flat of his blade at Angorian's midsection in an effort to knock the wounded Astartes from his feet, only to find him more unyielding than he thought.

     'I've been played a fool!'​ the dawning realization came as Angorian trapped his blade against his body. A returning downward slice caught his free arm at the elbow joint and slashed through to his flesh. Baledian felt tendons and ligaments pop away from the joint at the blade slid deeper with the downward slash. Despite his best efforts not to, he screamed loudly as the blade came back up and almost effortlessly pierced his abdomen.

     Baledian staggered, barely maintaining his grip as he wrenched his own sword free. He only narrowly got the blade up in time to guard against a renewed attack. His vision narrowed as Angorian kept pressing in on him, looking to end the duel quickly.

     His focus on defense through his own pain and the skills he had to draw upon to parry his attackers blows finally loosed the restraint he had somehow maintained to this point. The zealous need to destroy his opponent slipped his grasp. Another glancing blow to his armor prompted a wild swing at nearly neck level that Angorian was forced to duck and recoil to avoid. He came in again, low and hard, a primal yell issuing from the Ultramarine as he swung. Angorian was trying to end this.

     Baledian let him come.

     The swing would have taken him at the waist. Had he waited a moment longer, it may have ended the duel with him bleeding seriously on the platform and needing months to recover. He had no doubt that he would have survived the blow, but it would have been a narrow thing. Baledian turned with the strike at the last possible second, letting Angorian's sword slice against his badly damaged plate. The move followed along with the savage strike, neutralizing the force enough to prevent yet another injury.

     As Angorian's blade and body passed, Baledian swung down onto his attacker's trailing leg, sundering the armor without penetrating. Angorian buckled from the blow, turning to face Baledian as he swung again with a back-handed blow, pouring all the strength he had left into the swing.

     Outwardly, Baledian looked enraged, caught in the hot fire of a berserker's killing frenzy. Nothing could be further from the truth. In his inner self, he was colder than a Fenrisian winter storm.

     'This ends NOW!'​ 

     The thought came unbidden as his swing caught Angorian in the chest. His blade bit deeply, cracking through armor, flesh and bone. Angorian screamed his pain long and loud as he fell to the pad, landing on his sword arm. Caught in his battle zeal, Baledian kicked Angorian onto his back and thrust his sword tip down toward the Ultramarine's exposed neck.

     He almost let the strike fall. For a moment, caught in the cold battle mind, he was about to plunge his sword directly into the sweet spot that would end Angorian's life. In that frozen moment, he almost smiled.

     Then the world, his duty, and reality all crashed back into his being with a force like the impact of a drop pod. With more effort than he had ever exerted in his 150 years of service, Baledian regained the reigns of his zeal and pulled back on the strike.

     His sword tip stopped mere millimeters from Angorian's neck. Both warriors locked eyes.

     "YIELD!​" Baledian bellowed.

Edited March 11, 2018 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

​+++FLUFF ALERT+++

 

​THE DUEL

​(EPILOGUE)

 

​     ​Baledian had to fight desperately with his own rage to stop his arm from finishing what it had begun. Angorian lay beneath him, arms splayed out from his body in almost the form of a cross. The Ultramarine coughed a bloody gobbet, sending spatters across his face and drooling over his chin and cheeks. His eyes remained defiant, seeming to search for a way to fight on. Fingers tightened on his sword laying against the platform.

     Baledian leaned forward, pulling his arms back slightly, allowing the tip of his sword to rest against Angorian's exposed and bulging neck without brealikg the surface tension of the other warrior's skin.

     "YIELD!"​ he screamed louder. His restrained fury threatening to overcome him again began to slightly tremble his entire body.

     He lost track of time. Angorian, lying on his back, quickly clotting blood turning a reddish-brown even as new trickles of bright red continued to flow, sword still clenched tightly to hand. He raised his head slightly without putting more pressure on the blade held at his throat, looking directly into the knight's eyes. Baledian watched over an agonizing few moments as the fire of fury in Angorian's eyes dimmed, then faded altogether.

     To his credit, the Ultramarine never spoke the words. Instead, he released the tight grip on his sword and let it roll from his open hand to clatter away against the rockcrete.

     It was enough. The duel was over.

     Groans of disappointment from the Ultramarine spectators mixed and mingled with the raucous cheering from the Black Templars.

     Baledian felt his own zealous fury coiled within him finally ebb and release his muscles. He pulled his sword away from Angorian's neck and knelt to rest it on the platform, still over his opponent. Their gazes remained locked on one another, but all fury was gone from both.

     Baledian extended his uninjured arm to Angorian, hand opened.

     "Can you stand?" he asked in a low voice barely audible above the din of the spectators.

     "I believe so, cousin."Angorian coughed as he slapped his hand into Baledian's grip.

     Baledian hauled upwards, dragging Angorian back to his feet. The other warrior staggered for a moment before steadying on shaky legs. He held a hand to his chest, breathing in shallow gasps. Baledian kept a hand on his arm to aid in keeping the other warrior upright.

     Both commanders came forward once more, coming to a halt a step away from the combatants. A look of admiration was fixed on Captain Victorian's patrician features as he took in the sight of both warriors before turning his attention to Marshal Eidrich.

     "Let this be the end of any quarrel between us, Marshal," Victorian's deep voice seemed to smile, "You truly have fine warriors fighting for our shared Imperium."

     "As do you, Captain," Marshal Eidrich responded, pride evident in his words, "May we all prosecute this war with such valor."

     "Indeed." Victorian stepped forward and clasped arms with Eidrich.

     An Ultramarine apothecary raced across the platform and gently took over helping Angorian stand, draping the Astartes arm over his neck.

     "Do not fight against the apothecaries, Sergeant, " Victorian beamed at his subordinate, "You must heal quickly. We will all require your blade for what is to come."

     "Yes, Praetor," Angorian wheezed against his pain as the apothecary led him away.

     "You as well, Brother Baledian," Marshal Eidrich ordered, "I need you at your full strength."

     "Marshal." was his only reply, clapping both arms over his chest in the sign of the cross. He retrieved his sword and started away.

     Aching muscles and screaming wounds forced the Sword Brother to limp back toward the still cheering mass of Black Templar knights. Apothecary Ziegler awaited him at the edge of the platform.

​+++

​     Marshal Eidrich conversed with Captain Victorian long enough to set a time a few days out to brief both Chapter's commanders and officers on the two pronged attack to come. Once that detail was agreed upon, Victorian took his leave to prepare his troops. Both commanders shook arms once again and departed one another's company.

     As he made his way back to the disorganized mass of his knights cheering their fellow brother, he handed off Baledian's helm to Azahim with the order to return it to the victorious knight as soon as he was able.

     The mood began to change as those who caught the sight of Eidrich's face took notice of his expression. He knew why. The look on his face was one that even a human could easily identify and be stopped shocked still by. Something of concern troubled their Marshal, who only a few moments before had openly joined in their revelry.

     Eidrich donned his helm at once. He waited a moment for it's systems to boot up, then opened a vox link to his headquarters.

     "HQ, this is Eidrich, security code A-177-B4. Confirm." he ordered over the closed link.

     A series of clicks and bursts of static were his only reply before Allen Devous, his personal attendant and Chief of Serfs to his knights voice crackled to him with the hissing modulation of the high security link.

     "My lord," Allen's voice, calm and cold filtered in, "I stand in your service."

     "Have we reestablished communications with The Reaper's Hammer​ yet?" he asked, already knowing the answer in his gut.

     "Not as yet, my lord," Allen responded, almost glumly, "Our limited sensorium abilities still display the position of the combined fleet as at the outer edge of the system. We cannot hail them without at least a two and half standard week delay with our current capabilities."

     "Send a message to recall the Templar fleet immediately." Eidrich hoped it would be enough, that all forces could hold on for long enoughfor their support vessels and his remaining knights to turn the tide in this confusing war.

     "Orders relayed, my lord." Allen confirmed, "Shall my lord require further service?"

     Eidrich thought hard about his next order. The question gnawed at his mind. He was in the dark on matters of grave importance. It was not a feeling he ever found enjoyable.

     "Access all available historical data from our planet-side systems and from those we've captured from the Administratum archives here,' Eidrich ordered finally, "Get me everything we can on Capitan Victorian."

Edited March 11, 2018 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN

[Medjugorje]

wow. you spent a lot of time in this. That is zeal

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Your storytelling skills are enviable. 'The Duel' is expertly done. (If only Games Workshop's writers would match the effort you put in this story. Then their works wouldn't be the butt of endless jokes in 1d4chan.)

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Your storytelling skills are enviable. 'The Duel' is expertly done. (If only Games Workshop's writers would match the effort you put in this story. Then their works wouldn't be the butt of endless jokes in 1d4chan.)

 

I wouldn't put down the talent that writes for Black Library myself. Unlike them, I'm writing from a single-minded view as a long time Black Templar. The staff writers for GW and BL have a gargantuan galaxy to work on, having to write from several differing perspectives over the course of their careers (e.g. various Imperial factions, xenos, and heretic/daemon views). They can't specialize. I can, as I also don't have an editor (other than you guys) to answer to.

 

But, once again, thank you for the support. More is coming as I figure out how to develop the story further.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Okay, after my "joke" post on the YKYABTW thread, I have decided to get stoopid!

 

LRC Conversion kit ordered. I WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO MOUNT THE HURRICANE BOLTERS ON A REPULSOR!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

LRC Conversion kit ordered. I WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO MOUNT THE HURRICANE BOLTERS ON A REPULSOR!

You might as well replace the Repulsor's storm bolters (mounted above the doors the hurricane bolters will replace) with fragstorm grenade launchers, diversifying the weapons loadout.

 

Will you also replace the hull-mounted twin heavy bolter with a twin assault cannon, or will you rely on the turret-mounted heavy onslaught Gatling cannon for the purpose of burying the enemy under countless boltshells? In the latter case, you might as well replace the twin heavy bolter with a twin lascannon, to deal with enemy tanks.

[Hawklynn]

 

LRC Conversion kit ordered. I WILL FIGURE OUT HOW TO MOUNT THE HURRICANE BOLTERS ON A REPULSOR!

You might as well replace the Repulsor's storm bolters (mounted above the doors the hurricane bolters will replace) with fragstorm grenade launchers, diversifying the weapons loadout.

 

Will you also replace the hull-mounted twin heavy bolter with a twin assault cannon, or will you rely on the turret-mounted heavy onslaught Gatling cannon for the purpose of burying the enemy under countless boltshells? In the latter case, you might as well replace the twin heavy bolter with a twin lascannon, to deal with enemy tanks.

 

 

"Neophyte, get me the welding torch and a hammer. A very big hammer."

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

So, it began December 18th(ish), and is now complete!

 

I'm wiped out from IRLO, so I'll take pics tomorrow morning and get them up by at the latest tomorrow night, but I am proud to say that after stagnation, contemplation, long waits just staring at this model and planning my next add-on/brush stroke/detail/decal, my Redemptor Dreadnaught is complete!

 

I hope my time spent is evident when I get the pics up. See anyone interested tomorrow!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Okay, without further teasing, here is my finished work! Redemptor Dreadnaught ready to serve Marshal Eidrich's "Reaper's Hammer" Crusade!

 

 

Sorry about the images. It would seem that B&C decided to rotate and stretch my images without my ability to correct. If you select the image, however, you should be able to get a better look.

Edited March 21, 2018 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work on the Redemptor. Is that a dead Chaos Space Marine buried under the rubble at his feet?

[Brother Christopher]

Excellent work indeed! The selection of Templar accessories adds tonnes of character to the model. Awesomely painted dreadnought, overall!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Yes, that is a dead Chaos Marine in the rubble pile. It was a lot of work to get it right, and a fair amount of procrastination as I mulled things over. Thanks for the interest.

[Rabidweasel]

Looks amazing and given me inspiration to customise my Redemptor!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

As I stated earlier in my thread, it's a very easy kit to customize. Have fun!