Liber Animus II – Space Wolf Fluff
The following fluff was submitted by Hagen for Liber Animus in 2005
THE MEETING
The Wolstian Sub-Sector, the planet Manche. An uprising threatens to throw the whole planet into chaos, and into the hands of the dark gods…
The crowd surged forward again to their position and the press of bodies threatened to overcome the Space Wolf defensive barricades. Littered around were the corpses of hundreds of cultists, the stigmata of chaos plainly upon them. For four days they had continued to throw themselves at the Space Wolves positions with reckless abandon, no thought for their own lives and with only the desires of their dark masters in their hearts. Nothing more than the Space Wolves superhuman marine endurance and stubborn refusal to give way had stopped this uprising in its tracks, but even now that couldn’t hold back the weight of numbers that was bearing down on them.
“Wolf Lord”, came a call over the comm-net, “We cannot hold our position much longer”
“Hold them Mattheaus!” Haakon Ironwolf spoke back into the comm-net pickup, “They cannot be allowed to break our line.”
“Yes Lord”, was the only reply, the staccato report of bolters acknowledging that his order was being carried out.
Haakon looked out at the oncoming horde. Even he knew that it was only a matter of time before they overran his position, and in all likeliness taking him down. So this is how it ends, he thought, My saga finishes here, A true warrior’s death facing my foes. But something is wrong…
He could see Tjalfe bringing Kaloth’s Blood Claw pack forward, in preparation for a counter charge, when of a sudden there was a bright flash of light across the square, and the sound of a mass of bikes could be heard, even over the constant wailing and shrieking from the enemy masses. A scent was also in the air, he tasted it immediately.
It smelt like nothing he had smelt before. It smelt of ancient Space Wolves. And it smelt of death.
From where the light had flashed he could see heretics bodies being flung through the air – and what seemed to be a wedge of grey-armoured bikers heading towards his position. There was also with a number of crazed Space Wolves, on foot and with a Wolf Priest in attendance, butchering in animalistic slaughter all those that stood before them.
With renewed energy Haakon’s axe rose and fell with the promise of death to all that were touched by it, whilst around him Kjarveld’s Pack gave support, their bolter shells never failing to find a mark amongst the horde and every fall of their blades consigning another heretic to oblivion. To his right Tjalfe led the Blood Claws into a charge that sent the cultists reeling back, into the path of the oncoming bikers…and certain death.
Fighting his way forward Haakon finally came face to face with what appeared to be the leader of this strange grey-armoured in the middle of the square. They both lowered their weapons, the pheremones released by the Space Wolf gene-helix giving them the ability to communicate on almost a subliminal level as they sought to identify and understand the familiar, yet almost alien scent each possessed.
Haakon spoke first. “My name is Haakon Ironwolf and I serve Leman Russ and the Immortal Emperor. Identify yourself.”
In an archaic form of Imperial Gothic, the gigantic figure astride the bike replied.
“How very interesting, Haakon Ironwolf. I too serve Russ and the Emperor. My name is Berek Ironsteed and the Hounds of Russ are my pack.”
He moved his bike away and then turned his head to speak.
“We are of the 13th Company, Haakon Ironwolf, and we are here to fight against those that would defy the will of the Emperor. But now is neither the time nor place for introductions – let us fight together against these traitors first, and then we can discuss this meeting again.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Berek Ironsteed,” replied Haakon, laughing, “Let us lead our packs to glory and victory. For Russ! For the Emperor!”
**************************************
Haakon Ironwolf stood quietly in what had previously been the Hall of Ancients. He viewed the devastation all around him, and could almost taste the residual taint of chaos. He could hear his Great Company securing the area, and he had ordered the silencing of any last bastions of resistance to be left to the freshly arrived Imperial Guard – the fighting in the last week had been fierce but they had prevailed, with the help from those grey-armoured ancient Space Wolves from the Lost 13th Company.
Striding into the hall came the Wulfen Lord Berek Ironsteed, flanked by his Rune Priest and Storm Claw bodyguard. They looked slightly uncomfortable without their bikes, yet still gave an air of being supremely dangerous to all that encountered them.
Stopping in front of Haakon, Berek turned his head, sniffed and nodded towards the darkness in the corner. Helfdar Nightstalker stepped forward and smiled.
“I didn’t presume for you to not notice me, Wulfen Lord” he said, his blue eyes flashing.
The Wulfen Lord smiled back, then spoke directly to Haakon.
“Wolf Lord Haakon, we have fought our enemies for what appears to be almost an eternity, and only by the blessing of Russ do we return. You are all young pups to us, although your sagas are long, and we see the greatness in your Company that has always been a trademark of the Space Wolves and that pleases us.
“You seek a foe that we also have encountered in our travels. We have a grudge that must be revenged. You understand this.”
“Yes,” Haakon snarled in reply, “The Plague Lord thinks to challenge us and therefore the Imperium from across the void.”
From the door of the hall came the voice of the Hounds Wolf Priest.
“Then we must do what we can, and what we should. My Lord Berek, I would counsel that we take to the sky with our young Battle Brothers – for the first time in 10,000 years – and travel with them to this “Forexx Sector” and liberate where and what we can for Russ and the Emperor. It is what is expected of us.”
Berek was silent for a moment, then spoke again.
“It has been a long time since we have partaken in a Great Feast in preparation for battle.”
Then laughing and clapping Haakon on the shoulder, he said “And I also think it would be too good an opportunity to catch up on the sagas of our Chapter these last few millennia, don’t you think?”
Haakon grinned in agreement, and then spoke into the comm-net.
“Tjalfe, summon the Thunderhawks. We ride to war.”