He was an old man.
It was true. You could see it in his eyes, but most importantly on his face which beared scars that last a galaxy to count.
Lots of scratches on his back as well. But we're not here to discuss the man's issues, no sir, we're only here to reveal him to your majesties gracious eyes.
He is , as you are. A soldier, nothing more, nothing less. A veteran.
Getts up with a grunt. Down the alley, below his windows, commotion in the streets, people are gathering for the Next crusade. He dresses up, puts on his gear Rambo style.
Picks up the machete from it's holster on the roof. Now he's complete. Ready to go. Ready to turn shit upside down, as they say in the Corps.
Downstairs, he rallies his men. Or rather, his men rallied to him. They've been at his side for so long, he no longer has to yell orders for them to follow. They do so, instinctively.
At the town's exit, the crowd freezes over. From the cold, steamy night comes a grawl. Then hundreds of silhuettes pour down from the blacken hills.
Of course, he grinned to himself, thinking. The Sons of Seek are here. Always looking for a fight.
And what better opportunity to scramble some Pact heads then this? They were all gathered there, outside the confines of the fortress . No better oportunity for the Seeks to bash some heads in, then this gathering . Thank the Lords for the Crusade!
He roared, his chainsword held high, gashed at the Sons of Seek, offering their much sought revenge in a-plenty. More of his Pactsmen followed, dissapearing into the night.
Morning broke. Corpses of Seeks all bundled up in huge pilles, covering Pact's wounded and dead
Had to move some dead guys from on top of him , to get to the cold , morning air.
Everyone was accounted for, except the dead. After a while, the Blind Grotesk came too.
Him was covered with all Seek armours and helmets , tokens and trophies did he take for all, it seems. They laughed, he laughed as well, with his empty, black eye sockets "staring" at the cloudy sky.
The Old Man was pleased though. T'was a nice start for a Crusade of the Dark Gods!
but in the morning mist, on the shinny surface of the desert, far far away, 3 animals seem to galop towards him. No, not 3 animals, 3 machines, half man, half mech, wheels and legs united in a common cause. Chaos Bikers...
Should have known they were here.
One lad gets chopped in two by their Leader's chains. Carrying on, towards him, Great speed...
He will not suffer the same fate as his soldier did.
He lunges, thrusts his chainsword deep into metal and flesh on top of the bike.
Chaos leader watches blood squirting from his wound. He grins his jagged , serated teeth towards the Old Man. Seems to enjoy the pain. Seems to love letting his blood to gash on the arid ground.
" I see we follow the same path. We WILL MEET AGAIN, Old Man ! But not now... not now..."
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD ! "
The Bikers drove away. His men rally to him, from all the corners of the battlefield.
" It's time, boys. Time for another bloody ride!"
Yells of excitment , wolves howls reach the sky. They are with him, until Death.
