Battle Sister Wylde: The Beginning

Archive of the "Macro Story" forum.

Battle Sister Wylde: The Beginning

Postby Tombman13 » Wed Feb 14, 2007 2:46 am

Here is abit of something special I have been working on for Wyld, I say I have had fun making this Furrie/Warhammer hybrid thingy story, and I hope Wyld will like more then what I have so far (next update will finish it). I hope those of here too like what I have done and will like the following series, Sister of Battle Wylde.

Comments please.

Let it begin! Chaos!!!

Battle Sister Wylde-The Beginning
Tobias,Vvarian,Billserr@Mine
Wylde@Wyldsyde
Everything else@Gamesworkshop
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Trooper Tobias thought today was a day to get himself turned into a hero of the Imperium, his name sung through the ages, his name and regiment the Wolphos 23rd "Fur-Feet" honored for all time.......
......Ooor get himself turned into a pulp on the battle blasted ground of this death world, Sera, where the cultist forces of chaos had begun siege to the Imperial settlements, by running out of the trench line he was hunkered down on the ground in.

Tobias: Glory or death, death or glory hmmmmmm yea....I'm gonna have to go with the preferred first on this one...

Suddenly hearing the crunch of booted feet, instinctively Tobias rolls over, just as a large booted foot slams down on where he was just a second ago, looking up Pads sees the form of Commissar Bilserr, whose large hulking body, in his commissar great coat, hat, and spiked boots carrying a bolt pistol and chainsword, was framed by the sun light.

Commissar Billserr: Like you would ever get the chance for glory, trooper!

Tobias: Well....

Commissar Billserr: Yes, not a chance...and that’s "well, SIR"! NEITHER WILL ANY OF YOU SCUM BUCKET COWARDS!!

With that the Commissar leaves Tobias to himself, walking down the trench line spouting off at the other troopers weathering the hail storm of artillery, spouting off how they were basically the worst of the worst of the guard regiments..never amount to anything but cannon fodder...etc etc. Of which Tobias didn't really care about and so he just tuned the Commissar out.

But still...the Commissar did have a nagging point, Tobias was simply a trooper, a grunt, a boot slogging infantryman! He would most likely never see home again and if he did not die here he would go out on some other battlefield, still a simple trooper in the armies of the most Holy Furry Emperor of all kind! The least Tobias, thought to himself he would go out swinging in a hail of las and shells, maybe if he got lucky grab some of that big ole glory....

From the right, Tobias began to hear the order to gear up and make ready, the charge was coming soon, where they en mass would spill out from their trenches and charge enemy fortifications opposite of them, Tobias hoped he would make it....chances slim due to him being at the front. Looking over himself Tobias looked over his gear, wearing short sleeved steel grey shirt over his flak armor and under his shoulder pads of the same flak material, patterned on his right pad a howling wolf head with crossed swords and his left shoulder pad 10405 his number, and matching steel grey blue pants and black guard issue boots, his grey and blackish fur matted to his body. Around his waist he carried on his waist carry belt, a canteen, his bayonet knife, spare ammo for his issued lasgun, field medical kit, few grenades, and a few other guard essentials.

Down the line Tobias heard the call for ready, behind him he heard the stomp of feet as his brother Wolphon came up behind him massing for the charge, clutching his lasgun to his chest, as the shelling increased slightly sending chunks of rock and dirt down the sides of the trench, making Tobias wished he had a helmet and had not left it next to the melta.
Behind him Tobias heard the spiked boot steps of Commissar Bellserr.

Commissar Billserr: THIS is the day you maggots! Time to show your little worth to the eyes of the Emperor! Remember, run fast....stay low....and DO NOT turn around....I will be waiting for those who do...

With that, the shelling stops, just as if the cultists were waiting for the Commissar's words, and with that Commissar Billserr raises his chainsword to the sky and shouts to one and all to get a move on or he will cut off something important to all men, running first up the ramp, Tobias and the other guardsmen of the Wolphos 23rd charge up after him. Like grey and blue tide the 23rd swarm up from the trenches running across the crater shelled, dirt, trench, and wire filled field.

As the charge goes on Tobias slowly is pushed backward into the tide of guardsmen, knocked around and spun round as others push him to the side or knock him in the arms with their lasguns as they pass, Tobias keeps a death grip on his lasgun, knowing he will need it soon and if he didn’t have it then the Commissar would just plain shoot him.

Looking through the charging mass of guardsmen, Tobias see's that they are almost to the middle of the field, been charging for only a few minutes. The ground under Tobias feels to him feels suddenly mucky and it becomes harder and harder to plant the soles of his feet firmly on the ground, he notices that this is not only happening to him, the front of the line slows drastically, some guardsmen slipping onto the ground, and then quickly springing back up, though Tobias notices that a few men did not get back up.

Before Tobias notices it then charging mass of guardsmen stop completely, nearly to a man the front line collapses, guardsmen slipping and sliding across the ground, wallowing in the mud almost. This happens effects creeps across the mass of guardsmen like a wave, the man in front of Tobias slips, throwing his bayonet tipped lasgun into the air as he does. Then Tobias slips too, falling on his back, holding his lasgun to his chest, kicking his feet Tobias can not get a firm sold grip to propel himself up or anywhere, grunting Tobias kicks harder digging into the mud to find some sort of firm ground, the ground seeming to just get more and more mushy....when he sees a shadow cover his sight slightly.

A flash of warning echoes in his mind, and like on instinct Tobias grunting, kicks his legs out spreading them apart, just as the bayonet tip of the thrown up las gun spears into the ground just a few inches from his groin, stopping in the ground and firing a las bolt into the heating the mud and making it solid. Tobias blinks, and flails in the mud as heat of the lasgun washes over his oh-so-close-groin.

Trooper Tobias:(Grinding his teeth) I hope I can still...have....wait a second.....That’s it.....THATS IT! SHOOT THE GROUND AND USE YOUR BAYONETS TO GET A GRIP!!!!

Tobias taking his own advice aims into the ground and fires, plowing his bayonet into the ground after a few seconds of the ground cooling off..and it sticks, letting out a grunt Tobias hauls himself upward, looking around him Tobias can see others doing the same, men with flamers spewing fire across the ground and creating more and more firm ground, slowly the guardsmen begin to gain t heir footing again, the flamers paving the ground with fire for an advance.

As if the cultist forces were having fun watching the guardsmen slip and slide, and were mad at their fun being spoiled, the artillery begins to once again boom, the loud wailing noise of the shells in the air drowning out the cries and shouts of the guardsmen, and smashing into the ground in front of them kicking up tons of dirt and shrapnel.

Men fall back down to the ground as shrapnel pieces tear into a few men, but as the shelling gets closer and closer the guardsmen need no more urges from the Commissar to get running foreword. But it seems a bit too late, as a shell plows into the mass of guardsmen right behind Tobias, sending him flying over the heads of his comrades, a burning sensation in his tail....

Trooper Tobias:(Sniffs the air)...YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH OW OW OWOWOW NO NO HOT HOOOOOOOOOOT AHHH-UGHOOOF

Tobias lands face first into a shell hole made by the Imperial's own shelling, though the fire on his tail hasn’t exactly stopped just because he landed. Tobias does not notice as he passes out, due to his head having gonged into the body of a unexploded shell that landed in the shell hole before hand..just before Tobias passes out he really wishes he had his helmet.....
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As if as soon as he passes out Tobias's conscious re-emerges, and he notices a few things, 1 the sun is now gone and it is night out, 2 his head is pounding and he can even feel abit of a large bump and blood on his head, 3 he felt numb all over, 4 someone else was in the crater with him, and 5 that someone was standing on where his tail should be.....yet he felt it not...

Tobias slowly turns his head behind him, noticing two large boots stamped on his tail...looking upward more, long long legs covered in tight black armor looking as smooth as skin, a red loin cloth with golden embroidery in front and back, reaching past the knees, waist belt with an assortment of ammo clips, grenades, Aquila chains, and a bolter gun holster. Further up her chest, armor of red, with golden studs, and looking further up the figures armor Tobias's view... of the face is somewhat obstructed....to the sides the figures armor is the same, looking like she (Tobias is having no doubts that she is a she) was fit in a leather glove.

Suddenly the figure bends down giving Tobias a better view of the face, two red eyes, flowing blue hair, white fur, and feline. She smiles down at Tobias, showing off a set of perfect teeth and two fangs. The muzzle of her bolter in her left hand pushes into Tobias's face.

Wylde: Heeeellllo there soldier of the Imperium? Or vile cultist that I'll have to blow away?

Still smiling.

Tobias sweats in his uniform as he turns over onto his back and raises his hands into the air slightly.

Tobias:Uuuh Ah Guuuugh........Soldier of the Imperium, Trooper Tobias of the Wolphos 23rd , O' Miss. Cat-Lady-Pointing-Big-Gun-At-Me.....

Wylde: Oh goody then I don’t have to blow your brains across this shell hole.

Wylde flips back her stretched arm, pointing upward now and standing more straight, resting one of her paws onto her waist. Then suddenly flips her arm back out, muzzle pointed at Tobias's muzzle again.

Wylde: Then how did you get here?

Tobias:(Gulps) Ah...uhh oh I was with my regiment and uhhh yea we were charging the cultist's positions, things got muddy, we were bombarded...then...then I was flying through the air! Yea..and.......and my tail....was on fire....................

Tobias takes another gulp, his mouth dry and looks down between his feet at the ground and notices that where he should have seen his tail...there was nothing....besides a pile of ashes which Wylde's boots were planted in. Tobias's jaw drops....

Tobias: Tail....my......

Wylde: Huh? (Looks down toward the pile of ash) ohh your tail. (She steps out of the pile of ash, as soon as she does a gust of wind picks up the ashes and carries the ash out of the shell crater) Oooo ouch. Don’t worry about that you...you can always get a bionic tail!

Tobias: Tail....my....

Wylde: Oh come now Tobias a bionic one is not so bad....at least you won’t have to worry about tail rash...plus all the cute nurses at the Ordos Medicae just love cute wounded soldier boys they get to...sponge bath....

Tobias: Well see you sister, I have to get on back to the front line and get to my hospital tent, so lon-HEY!

As Tobias made his way to leave the crater hole, Wylde suddenly grabs hold of Tobias's ankle and pulls him down flopping out on top of him and covering his mouth with a paw.

Wylde: Ssshhh no trooper your coming with me....the cultists have NOT been driven from their trenches surrounding the factory works, so now it’s you and I, and were going to infiltrate the trenches, get into the cultist compound, and face the Arch heretic in command here, all in the name of the Holy Emperor....besides...if you stuck your head out of this place in the wrong way you would find you would have no head from sniper fire....

Tobias: Oh.....ok...I’m with you Sister.....but...then tell me how you got here in the first place?

Wylde:(smiling) Stealth trooper Tobias....stealth.....

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The cultist trench work stretches for what seems like miles around a single stone building of a burnt out Imperial church that sits on a large hill which appears to not have taken a single shell of Imperial shell fire, despite the fact that the entire surrounding trench works and land has. At the base of the hill sits around 10 to 30 massive basilisk cannon-tanks, once the main heavy hitter of the Imperial Army, but now they have been pinning Imperial forces thanks to the corruption by the forces of chaos. The cultist trenches themselves are two rows thick, with a hundred yards separating each line and only two trench lanes to connect them. Shaped by gun emplacements, barbed wire, pillboxes, few sections with three meter walls, quarters, ammo rooms, artillery safety zones, grenade holes, and tank ramps, to try and take the cultist positions would be most and a very bloody affair.

Inside one of the most furthest out pillboxes a group of 4, lasgun armed cultists lounge about waiting for the next attack, all 4 leaning against the walls of the pillbox or sitting in rickety chairs. Drinking coffee from tin cups.

Cultist#1:Sooooo......why did you guys sell your souls to the Dark Gods?

Cultist#2 a large bullish figure, two bull horns sticking out from the folds of his robes....from his neck, speaks. "I sold my soul so I can beat any man in close combat.

Cultist#3:Enough credits to open a coffee shop.....

Cultist#4:Eternal pleasure.

Cultist#2: What about you?

Cultist#1:You guys like kidnapped me when I was sixteen.

Cultist#3:Oooh yea...why didn’t you just escape or not sell your soul?

Cultist#1:I sold it....for a bar of soap......it was when the plague chaos god's cultists spread that flesh wasting disease.

Cultist#4:Ah yea I remember that....did it help any?

Cultist#1:No....just gave me a rash before my skin was eaten away.....

Cultist#2:That sucks

Cultist#1:Sea of souls you got that right...

Cultist#2:So...any coffee left in the pot?

Cultist#4:Nope...bone dry...

Cultist#3:I'd sell my soul for a cup of coffee....oh wait I already did.....

The horned cultist pushes himself off from the chair he had occupied, the sound of puckers coming undone, filling the pillbox as he shifts his feet.

Cultist#2:I'll go get some more then....

Cultist#1:Thanks

Cultist#2:Bloody ha! Who said it was for you......

With that the horned cultist, laughs loud and obnoxiously as he moves out of the pillbox, the sound of puckering trailing in his wake. Stepping out into the blasted muddy trenches, the large cultist stops and adjusts his robes more tightly onto his bulk, swinging his lasgun in his arms more like it was a club. No other cultist appears to be out in the section of the trenches...the ones that are alive...corpses in cultist robes lining the sides of the trench way, even a few piled up on the sides and strung together to act as shields.

Lumbering along, the number of corpses begins to thicken, now bodies splayed out in the middle of the walkway or just random piles of bones, glancing at the bone piles the cultist sees a few broken bones...marrow cleaned out. Two red robed figures begin to appear in the cultist’s vision, walking toward the large cultist....one smaller cultist and one larger bulkier one.....the smaller one's muzzle which pokes out of his cowl, seems to suddenly and panicking turn it’s head side to side...while the other larger one walks foreword in a gait full of discipline and a style of a swagger.

As the three come closer and closer together, the large cultist can see that the larger one's body underneath looks as if it’s robes are covering tight fitting armor......and straining to hold a large chest.

Cultist#2:Huh....I know what that one sold...his or her soul for......

Soon the cultist passes the two similarly wrapped figures, the cultist walks foreword for a few more paces before turning around to see if the one with the "gift's from the gods" had a similar set in the back. He is shocked, and so he grunts and gasps, but not from what he expected, but from the face that a portion of the taller one's robes are uncovered to reveal a long tail and power armor, a imperial eagle stitched in.

Cultist: FOLLOWERS OF THE FALSE-GURK!ARRRRGH!

Just because he was strong enough to kill a genetically enhanced warrior of the Emperor, did not mean he had any brains or reflexes and speed. His gasp had been enough to let Wylde know that the mutant cultist knew who she and Tobias were. By the time he was forming the yell Wylde was a few feet away, and upon him next, the butt of her chainsword smashing into his windpipe and larynx, before he knew it, and then in less then a second after that the cultist's skull cap was spinning away from his skull while the engine of the chainsword hummed then halted.

Tobias appears at Wylde's side cradling a lasgun and his robes loosened on him.

Tobias: Think they heard that?

A burning hole erupts in the cultist's corpse as a beam of energy, poorly aimed, strikes it, the alarm sounds off throughout the trenches, spotlights sweep the area, beasts howl, and a cry of alarm grows and grows as hundreds of cultists flood into the trenches.

Wylde: Uuuuuummm no?

(Almost done)
Tombman=Writer, Zombie-Survivalist, and one of da Chaos Boyz!

"I hope youhave Hobo Stab Insurance"!!

If you wish to be a good reader, read; if you wish to be a good writer, write.
-Epictetus, Discourses
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