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Triandr. A forgotten Imperial feudal world ravaged by ever-constant squabbling of warring states has now come to pay the price of their folly. The immeasurable blood spilt over centuries of unending war in the name of pointless and stagnant conquest has attracted the attention of the Ruinous Powers. Chaos is coming; not only to purge the people of Triandr, but also to shape the planet into an unholy citadel to combat the forces of the False Emperor within their own sector.

Kragoth Doros had been tracking the cultists down for two days prior to their slaughter, but it had been about a week before he could truly confirm what heretical scum they truly were. It was only a few nights ago that his superior ears caught the sound of yet more blood-curdling shrieks, echoing across the mountains until they were immediately snuffed away, silenced like rodents, and replaced with morbid cheering and chanting. Doros recognized these fanatical ravings from the mountain tops, and they made his fist clench his fist like a mace on an arm. 'Blood for the Blood God' they screamed in their terrible joy. 'Spill their blood for the favour of Khorne!' These rats had attracted his ire, so when they had come down to the villages again for tribute once more, the outcast had secretly followed them to their sacrificial circle. Before the bloody ceremony could begin, Doros appeared from the shadows of the night, and the stunned cultists of Khorne were slain like the rats they were, leaving their chosen sacrifices to flee in a wailing panic.

The deed had been done, and now the bloodstained marine was left to gaze over a spacecraft nestled upon a rough mountain above the pit. As he drew closer to the transport, it became all too clear that it was formally of Imperial origin. It's insignia had been terribly vandalized, replaced with the dreaded mark of Khorne. Entering desecrated ship, the stench of rot and death became all too clear of the astartes, Imperial guard helmets and flak jackets were hung like trophies upon the walls of the interior; the former crew did not essentially fall to chaos, they were all massacred in it's name.

Doros' hand fumbled amongst the assortment of helmets and severed heads around the cockpit, but it was a bloodstained letter that caught his keen eye.

"Sleazy Arcadius
That manchild Lieutenant Porthos told me that Champion Cicero wants us to scout some feudal hovel. Says to me the centuries of war there has caught the eyes of the gods. Methinks Cicero is a gullible sod, believes anything that he sees in a dream, just like those Imperial citizens Uriel eviscerated a month ago as they wailed and screamed for their corpse emperor to save them, eh? That Slaaneshi fool, the servants of Tzeentch would break his frail mind in two.

Anyway, we're leaving for Triandr very soon. If you don't want to part of Cicero's rack of heads, leave as soon as you get this letter. Uriel is joining us too, he should be scouting Sipang region. Porthos wants you and the others in Eokaroe, it's better we don't speak to eachother anymore until this planet of primitives has been purged. Oh! And don't blow your cover! Sacrifices must wait! It's not on me if you get lynched and beaten by an angry mob.
Glory to the Changer of Ways
Signed Hermes, Undivided Warband of Rebirth"

A deep sigh echoed eerily throughout the ship's interior as Kragoth held his head down indecisively. He didn't even need to confirm it himself. Triandr was destined to be under siege by the very same force that ultimately led to his chapter's demise. He would dread, but he was an Astartes, outcast or not; therefore he was not allowed to dread, such an emotion was a comfort left to the weak. Doros had no present allies, action had to be taken immediately, or the planet would be doomed forevermore.

The 13th Frouscian Hell-hammers were being deployed somewhere they knew not. This men and women were known as heroes on that odd little planet. The men and women of this unit, at least the first squad assigned with one of the Foruscia's few commissars, were hardened from fights against Orks and Chaos. Their planet was a rare mix between a Fortress world and a death world, similar to the home of the Mordian Iron Guard, however, they are not as disciplined as their compatriots. Foruscia, would be best described as Catatchan and and Cadia had one heck of a messed up baby. Then the Orks showed up and then the bloodshed caused by the Orks made a War-band of Chaos show up, Khorne's servants to be particular. Then they fought them, the 13th being almost wiped out, except for the first squad. They were all that was left standing in the 13th, earning the nickname of the Blood Walkers. However, the rest of the platoon was known as the unlucky 13th. Now, they were being sent to Sipang and then hunt down Chaos... bloody good plan all in all.

The Commissar moved quietly into his transport as it took off to land on the planet, his men were dressed in their forest gear and were ready for a fight. The men and women he had lost his eye and arm beside loked at him and nod. then they would prepare. Grim...Now Grim was odd for a Commissar. He would lead from the front, during the battle against the Orks, he took up an abandoned heavy bolter and him and about 600 guardsmen stopped their advance somehow. then he lost his eye against the servants of Khorne, but he wouldn't tell how.

Doros was undecided on what action had to be taken. He knew he couldn't just go down to the local villages, raving about how 'Chaos is coming! Defend yourselves!' The villagers considered him an outcast anyway: a good-for-nothing that inhabited the mountain caves as an urban legend. They'd probably hate him even more once the villagers he'd saved come wailing down the hills with their bloodstained pauper tunics. He wasn't sure what those unlucky men and women would tell of him. It reminded him of his chapter's unjust judgement at hands of the inquisition. Perhaps one day, even they will come to see that folly of their actions.
Kragoth also knew he could not turn to the major powers of Sipang and Caritaigne, who were far more interested in warring and plotting against eachother. Pathetic squabbling insects, who's rulers knew not just how insignificant they were upon the scale of the galaxy. If only they knew, and if only they feared, perhaps then they would join in alliance against a much greater threat.

Before Kragoth decided to begin his doomed mission, he decided to check around the ship for more clues. He flicked on the bloodstained Imperial radio, and a head fell to the ground with a large thud. Although there was certainly no time to waste, Kragoth had to know if a chaos signal was closeby, in order to determine just what little time he had left. What Kragoth had found however had shocked him greatly. An actual Imperial signal on the planet. The signal was barely clear on the damaged radio however. The only information Kragoth could decipher was that they were a regiment of sorts, and they were here to hunt chaos. Perhaps the same cultists as regarded in the letter.

Kragoth's eyes glinted with new hope under his helmet. This was his time. This was his chance to prove that he was still loyal to the Imperium and the Emperor, despite his outcast reputation. Taking off his helmet for the sake of clarity The veteran lifted the radio's microphone to his mouth:

"This is Veteran Sergeant Kragoth Doros of the now defunct Rainbow Warrios Astartes Chapter. Repeat! I am an Adeptus Astartes that has been trapped on this planet for nearly a generation, does anyone copy?" He massaged the exposed wiring of the microphone, impatient for a response.

The 13th would receive the comms transmission surprisingly. The damaged gear had made the cut and it would be responded to in turn. "Veteran Doros, this is Commissar Jaeger Grim of the 13th Foruscian hell-hammers, how can we be of aid to one of the Emperor's Angels of Death?" The man would ask with an honest grin on his face. If he was not a traitor, this would make it easy. The transport hit the earth with a thud and the doors would drop. Grims men moved and he transferred it to his Vox. He motioned for his men to take potion and watch for anything as he spoke to the Space Marine. His men were line infantry but these were trained to be the best of the best, armed with Hell-guns, they were ready for anything they thought. Grim would set his hand on his Chainsword and his eyes would scan the battlefield as he waited for the Man's response. His great coat fluttered in the light breeze and he would reach his hand slowly to his bolter. His men would tense up, something was coming. "Could you give us a second Space Marine? We have company coming,"

Kragoth placed his armoured hand away from the wiring, the anxiety within him had now been quelled. He was quite relieved to know that his rank still garnered him respect, in spite of his chapter's fate. Conversing with a Commissar had given him a slight feeling of unease however, for the many that Veteran Sergeant had come across commonly shared an utter lack of mercy. Then again, most renegade space marines had fallen to heresy. Doros could not afford to be prejudiced, that's what got him here on this turbulent hovel in the first place.

Doros placed his lips to the comm once more: "Very well, but I aim to travel to your point of origin. Should you find an aircraft in the sky bearing the marks of chaos, tell your men to be at ease, for I have hijacked this aircraft." His desire to group with the imperials had been told; now hopefully Doros need not worry about being shot down in the sky.

A guard would move quietly into the forest. Then his Hell-gun could heard, along with the reddish light the weapon emmitted is it fired. Then he would pull back and dive behind the rock and set his burning hot weapon on a rock and prepared for the attack The other Guardsmen 19 of mixed genders and gear loads looked at him.

Grim would purse his lips into a frown. "What did you see Guardsmen?" He asked with a concerned gaze.

"Some very large and very angry spiders. Kind we have at home sir, and they are coming," He would say with a strained breath. The rest of the guardsmen would move into a small squad pointing that way. Grim would motion no for the, He was in command until the Lieutenant landed.

"Guardsmen, grenades, give them a few," Grim would say, drawing his pistol. Then he would watch as the grenades were thrown into the forests.

With all said and done, Doros finally began the journey to rendezvous with the Imperial forces. As the aircraft engines had began to start up, there was a clear sound of jittering from the wings; they appeared as though they were going to snap off the moment Doros took flight. Tarnished by rust, age and heretical vandalism, it was far too obvious that this aircraft hadn't seen a check up in years, not even from a heretek. The Astartes remembered to close the interior entrance after ascending the ship into the air, and so zoomed across the sky toward his destination, whilst leaving the fearful island villagers from below in his wake.

The desecrated Valkyrie had reached above the clouds, and Doros felt as though he was trapped in his own serene little world as he reread the cultist's letter. "...There are heretics as well in Sipang..." The sergeant muttered to himself. "The Commissar stated that he had company. Will his men be in battle by the time I arrive?" His brooding was cut short as he caught sight of the land of Sipang, speeding past it's capitol within seconds. Now was the time to slow down.

It did not take the Guardsmen long to clear out the spiders. What was left were roasted husks of the beasts and charred innards. The guardsmen had done well, this team has a reputation for doing well. The rest of their regiment does not, however, they are good. As The sounds of the drop ship roared, the men aimed their Hell-guns at it, ready to tear it apart. The Commissar though gave them a hold command so the Space marine could land unharassed. "Rations and water, now Sergeant, let the men rest a little,"

The dropship came to a sudden halt in the sky as Doros carefully descended the desecrated Valkyrie beside the forest's entrance, having already seen the whereabouts of the Imperial base from above. His landing of the aircraft was deliberately sloppy, for the marine had hated every second of his journey within the tarnished aircraft. He'd rather leave such a cursed hulk to just simply rot away amongst the wilderness.

Doros soon emerged from the interior of what could have passed off as a 'wreckage,' his chainsword across his back with his bolter (and it's various munitions) tied across his waist; still stained in the dry blood of the Emperor's Enemies. Doros expected a lukewarm welcome among the guardsmen, all he could hope now was that there was not an inquisitor amongst these men.

Grim would adjust his great coat as he would walk up and inspect the towering Space Marine. Then he would pull back the bolt on his pistol and pointed it at the huge man's head, to the shock of all his fellows. Then he would let it roll off of his finger in offering to the Space Marine, grip towards the man, a gesture of trust and faith in his new ally. A few guards watched and readied their Hell-guns. It was a move to see what the Marine would do with a Bolter at the ready and a Commissar an arms length away from him. Good test to see how he would react... and it would give his men a chane of this was not a follower of the Emperor's light.

At first Doros was somewhat speechless. He did not think the Commissar would end his renegade life so outright. But then he saw the cyborg offer him the bolter. Not only was Doros lost for words, he was terribly confused as well. But as he took the bolter from the Commissar's hand, he began to realize that this was a test of trust. The Veteran Sergeant held the bolter toward the Commissar, opting to return the bolter, and prove to the guardsmen ready to take him out that he was loyal.

"My Chapter may be in ashes... but I still carry the light of the Emperor..." Voice, though as deep as any Space Marine's was somewhat soft spoken as he attempted to gain the trust of these Imperial men. "...And I am at your service Commissar."

The Commissar would take his bolt pistol back and would put in the holster beneath his jacket. The Guardsmen would lower their Hell-guns, relieved that their Commissar would end up a bloody mess on the floor. They adjusted their gear quickly, one said "I am so glad we didn't have to fight him, we would be so dead,". To that the commissar laughed a little and looked back at them, taking off his hat and wiping his brow of sweat.

"Well, if you men can kill a horde of Khorne's finest Axe wielding madmen, you can handle him I think," Then he looked at the Space Marine and adjusted his body. "Commissar Grim, pleased to meet you. Now we must move into a larger settlement and mark where the rest of the 13th and the 15th will land, know of any population centers where we could go to do that?"

Kragoth nodded positively. "As a matter of fact yes, the Capitol of Sipang lies less than ten miles west from here." He replied, pointing his finger far beyond the field, with a large stone castle standing faintly on the horizon. "We need not worry about any garrison..." The Astartes added. "Sipang is always at war with it's rival, Caritaigne. Their soldiers are always far from home." Doros then took his rather colourful helmet from the bandolier across his waist, and placed it back on his head. "I do however worry about any possible incursions with Chaos cultists Commissar, and I must see to it that you read this letter." The marine handed the creased, bloodstained letter that he had hidden within the grasp of his palm over to Grim.

The Commissar would sigh and put down the letter before looking at the Space Marine. "DO you know where this little town is? I can send me and a small contingent of men with you while the others mark in the deployment," The he would motion for his guardsmen to move and split up into two teams in case he did know. If not, then they would just move to the keep. The men looked anxious and ready for a fight.

"Yes, I will guide you and your men to the capitol Sipang, and deal with any heretics along the way." Doros nodded once more. "And do not worry for the heretics in Eokaroe, for the scum there have been fed to my chainblade. Their lust for sacrifice could not wait it would seem..." He sighed under the helmet. It had caused him heartache knowing he could have saved the lives of the tribespeople when he had the chance. "When do you wish to leave for Sipang?" The Astartes asked.

The men would look at the Commissar. "Now," He would say, one of the men would, surprisingly, bring him a Las-gun. The Great coat wearing man would put it on his back and adjust the sling. Then he would look at the Blue clad warrior and motion him to lead the way. This Commissar was a fighter himself it seemed. The Guardsmen would begin to small talk, but it was nothing too bad.

"As you wish Commissar." So it was that the Veteran Sergeant would lead them over the fields towards Sipang's capitol, still wary of the threat the cultist vermin that resided nearby. Doros was Space Marine, this journey to the capitol was nothing more than a short walk, but seven or eight miles of non-stop marching is quite the trek for the average human. As the castle pagoda of Sipang drew ever-closer, so did a strange smog that swept like a dark cloud across the sunset. He looked on, doubtful of the clouds origin. Did this smoke lead to a Cultist lair, or was it perhaps the dreadful site of a crash?

"I think we may need to take a detour." Kragoth subtly warned the Commissar.

The Commissar would look at the cloud and nod. "quite so," He would say, rubbing the sweat off his brow. His guards were nort far behind, they looked a little tired, but functional. "Hell-guns on, Sergeant, load your shotgun, keep it ready," Then he would remove the Las-gun from his shoulder and charge it. Then he would start to move towards the source of the smog, his guards following him. The other four would wait for the space marine and their pace was slow for that reason.

The place of the smog's origin was deep within the forest, and the sunset had began to pass, turning the sky dark. The light of the wild flames had showed them the way, but all was still not right. Aside from the crackling of burning wood, the silence was terrifyingly eerie. However, one could make out the voices of whispering plotters if they concentrated enough. This was the perfect place for an ambush. Despite this, Doros, the Commassar and the rest of his band would make it to the site quite easily, and it was quite definately the area of a crash site.

The fires by the large trees danced and twisted around the ship, almost encircling it. The ship itself was not unlike the tarnished hulk Doros had nearly destroyed earlier. It was a looted Valkyrie vandalized by the varying marks of Chaos. The interior doors had been ripped upon, which was direct evidence of potential survivors. The pilot of the ship lay by the cockpit, bloodied beyond all recognition, his flesh currently being cooked by the rabid fires of the wreckage.

"This does not bode well at all. Commissar, may your men please check the interior? I ask your permission to search and execute any possible survivors.

"Men, set up a defensive circle, Sergeant Mathias, Corporal Verris, and corporal Marcus, clear it out.," He would order them. The Sergeant would pump his shotgun and move into the ship, the other two guardsmen would follow him, charging their Hell-guns. Then they would move into the ship while the rest stayed outside. The Commissar took cover next to some of his men and waited.