Gatehammer: A 30K Warhammer story. (discontinued)

First True Contact

The mortal was afraid. I could easily tell. From the buckling of her knees, to the quickening of her heartbeat. I could even smell the fear off her. Though that might just be the dead traitor's feces.

I tower over her tiny frame, though what little flesh she had was stout muscle. Better than being a soft mortal. I looked to her companion, a female as bit shorter than her, with shoulder length hair that reminded me of the sands of desert planets.

I look away from both, towards the feudal militia. They're afraid. Good.

I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Another Astartes. Turning my back around at a seventy degree angle, I see the form of Torgaddon, with that flowing cape of his. His armor was slick with the blood of slain foes, and the ends of cape as well, was wet with the substance.

"Do the mortals fear us friend?" He stated, the bestial snarl emitting from the vox surrounds me within this metal suit of mine.

"Indeed they do, Torgaddon. There are no deserters yet living, correct?" I replied back, mag-locking my chainsword onto my thigh. Dried was the blood that covered it now. Looking to my own auspex, I note that all the Astartes were static in their movements, cleaning their weapons and writing new deeds upon parchment.

"100% casualties, zero losses on our part, of course." Torgaddon let out a harsh chuckle, before finally standing still next to me. I let out a grunt in response before turning back to the two mortals who began to back away.

"Perhaps we should remove our helms."

"Perhaps." I reply, placing my armored fists upon my Maximus model helm, I hear the hiss as it's locks being to disengage from the rest of the suit, depressurization commencing. Torgaddon did the same.

Torgaddon was different from me. Well, or rather I was different from him and most of the legion. Sons of Horus, they were called. For they looked very much the visage of their father Primarch. Torgaddon, like most Sons of Horus, he wars bald, while I still had my hair, though it was short. Colored blonde, more natural in color yet still similar to the armor of the Imperial Fists and their own hair.

As I raise my helm over my face I can feel the surprise across the Princess' face. I suppose she didn't know the fact why we were like her. I fully remove my helmet, mag locking it onto my thigh plate. I looked towards the pair once more, thinking back to the lessons Lord Sanguinius had given on the local languages.

"You are, indeed. The Princess Piña Co Lada, yes?" She didn't say anything. But she tried to.

"Y-yes, I-Indeed." She stammered. This was going to be fun.

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I could barely stand. This... thing, man? I didn't know what to call this giant in front of me. He could match a ogre in height. I stared at him as he stayed silent. I wondered what he would do. Would he slaughter us like the they did the bandits? Would they offer their protection? Would they subjugate us and force us to be their slaves?

I couldn't tell, it's face was emotionless, it's eyes were a dark color, black or grey I couldn't tell from this angle. It's face was shaped similarly to a statue of some ancient heroic warrior. Judging from its face I wondered what the rest of it's body would appear like.

My eyes glanced at the one next to it, the one who had slaughtered those who were about to charge me and Hamilton. It looked similar, but different from the first, a bald head and similar eyes. Handsome surprisingly.

I keep my sword up however, no matter how futile it may be. I will not go out without defiance.

"Good. I am Garviel Loken, Captain of the fifth company of the Luna Wolves. A son of Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the Luna Wolves, Warmaster of the Imperium, son of the Emperor of the Imperium and brother to seventeen other Primarchs. I have come to audience for the submission of your nation."

(Welp! That's the first part done, I'll be working on a different by similar story for now, until I get back to this one. Hiatus time!)