[FanFic] Flight of a Primarch by: "Black-Librarian Skirath"
Day 1,631, 10:30
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Published in Sweden 
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by
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by Veritatem
Hi everyone!
Im just going to remind you that you could send in suggestions to me. (eigther PM me or post comment in the articles)
If 2 or more suggestions are made, I will use This Random Generator To choose witch one i will post next.
I don't actually care about somebody votes me or not. I like reading FanFics, so it's just for fun.
(even tho' i wouldn't mind getting some)
"Listen closely Brothers, for my life's breath is all but spent. There shall come a time far from now when our Chapter itself is dying, even as I am now dying, and our foes shall gather to destroy us. Then my children, I shall listen for your call in whatever realm of death holds me, and come I shall, no matter what the laws of life and death forbid. At the end I will be there. For the final battle. For the Wolftime."
-last words of Leman Russ the Primarch of the Space Wolves Chapter of Space Marines
Deep in the halls of Ylanon's capital city palace boisterous laughter and revelry could be heard. After two months of heavy combat the combined forces of Leman Russ' Space Wolves and Sanguinius' Blood Angels had slain the planet's tyrant king, bringing the enlightenment of the Imperium to the human populace. As was customary the Space Wolves were throwing a huge, celebratory feast where the hardiest meats were served by the ton and an entire sea's worth of wulfsmead sat chilled and ready for consumption. The grateful populace of Ylanon gathered the greatest of their carpenters to construct a table large enough to seat the two demigods known as primarchs at the head, as well as a hundred of each legion down both sides.
Leman laughed boisterously as he took in another mug of wulfsmead in a single gulp. He was a tribal war god made real, dressed in icy cold armor adorned with wolf pelts and fetishes of his home world Fenris. His face, normally a horrid mask of violence and rage, was alight with pride. His mangled, unkempt hair streamed down his face and to his thick beard. It was nearly impossible to tell where his head hair ended and his beard hair began, but few brought this to his attention. "Truly, this feast will be just as worthy of remembrance as the battle. Aye Sanguinius, my brother?" He shouted in jubilation.
Sanguinius sat next to the Wolf King, gingerly tracing his finger over the rim of his mug. Unlike his savage brother Sanguinius was a vision of classical handsomeness and poise. Dressed in crimson armor, embroidered with his legion's iconography, he was as fearsome as he was pleasant to look upon. His pale face was striking with what some would call boyish charm, and his long blonde hair flowed to the bases of his magnificent, white wings. His mug was still filled with the bubbling, foamy fluid. "Yes brother... it truly is."
All across the magnificently crafted table the primarchs' interactions were mirrored a hundredfold by their legion members. The savage, bestial Space Wolves consuming everything in front of them, while the conservative Blood Angels paced themselves, slowly enjoying what was in front of them.
It did not take long until Leman Russ noticed Sanguinius' mug, and how he had not drank a single drop from it. "Whats wrong with you, eh?"
"I… don't usually drink Leman. Except for the occasional wine, for traditions sake of course."
"Sanguinius... look at me." Sanguinius turned his head to see Leman Russ face contorted into a look of extreme seriousness. "Please don't be a puss in front of my legion…"
"I beg your pardon?" Sanguinius said, flabbergasted by Russ' insulting remark.
"Mortarion drank like twenty mugs of wulfsmead, and washed that down with an oil drum of this poison crap. He was hardcore." Russ said, smiling. "You however, at this moment, are being weak sauce…"
Sanguinius glared at Russ. "No one calls me weak sauce! Let me at the stuff!" Sanguinius began to drink the icy, foamy liquid. All the space wolves began to smash their hands and chant in tribal tongues as they gave their respect to the Angel of the Imperium. The Blood Angels soon imitated their comrades as Sanguinius emptied the flask and reached for two more.
"Now that's how its done!" Russ howled in enjoyment.
Hours later... Read More.
Im just going to remind you that you could send in suggestions to me. (eigther PM me or post comment in the articles)
If 2 or more suggestions are made, I will use This Random Generator To choose witch one i will post next.
I don't actually care about somebody votes me or not. I like reading FanFics, so it's just for fun.
🙂
(even tho' i wouldn't mind getting some)
😉
"Listen closely Brothers, for my life's breath is all but spent. There shall come a time far from now when our Chapter itself is dying, even as I am now dying, and our foes shall gather to destroy us. Then my children, I shall listen for your call in whatever realm of death holds me, and come I shall, no matter what the laws of life and death forbid. At the end I will be there. For the final battle. For the Wolftime."
-last words of Leman Russ the Primarch of the Space Wolves Chapter of Space Marines
Deep in the halls of Ylanon's capital city palace boisterous laughter and revelry could be heard. After two months of heavy combat the combined forces of Leman Russ' Space Wolves and Sanguinius' Blood Angels had slain the planet's tyrant king, bringing the enlightenment of the Imperium to the human populace. As was customary the Space Wolves were throwing a huge, celebratory feast where the hardiest meats were served by the ton and an entire sea's worth of wulfsmead sat chilled and ready for consumption. The grateful populace of Ylanon gathered the greatest of their carpenters to construct a table large enough to seat the two demigods known as primarchs at the head, as well as a hundred of each legion down both sides.
Leman laughed boisterously as he took in another mug of wulfsmead in a single gulp. He was a tribal war god made real, dressed in icy cold armor adorned with wolf pelts and fetishes of his home world Fenris. His face, normally a horrid mask of violence and rage, was alight with pride. His mangled, unkempt hair streamed down his face and to his thick beard. It was nearly impossible to tell where his head hair ended and his beard hair began, but few brought this to his attention. "Truly, this feast will be just as worthy of remembrance as the battle. Aye Sanguinius, my brother?" He shouted in jubilation.
Sanguinius sat next to the Wolf King, gingerly tracing his finger over the rim of his mug. Unlike his savage brother Sanguinius was a vision of classical handsomeness and poise. Dressed in crimson armor, embroidered with his legion's iconography, he was as fearsome as he was pleasant to look upon. His pale face was striking with what some would call boyish charm, and his long blonde hair flowed to the bases of his magnificent, white wings. His mug was still filled with the bubbling, foamy fluid. "Yes brother... it truly is."
All across the magnificently crafted table the primarchs' interactions were mirrored a hundredfold by their legion members. The savage, bestial Space Wolves consuming everything in front of them, while the conservative Blood Angels paced themselves, slowly enjoying what was in front of them.
It did not take long until Leman Russ noticed Sanguinius' mug, and how he had not drank a single drop from it. "Whats wrong with you, eh?"
"I… don't usually drink Leman. Except for the occasional wine, for traditions sake of course."
"Sanguinius... look at me." Sanguinius turned his head to see Leman Russ face contorted into a look of extreme seriousness. "Please don't be a puss in front of my legion…"
"I beg your pardon?" Sanguinius said, flabbergasted by Russ' insulting remark.
"Mortarion drank like twenty mugs of wulfsmead, and washed that down with an oil drum of this poison crap. He was hardcore." Russ said, smiling. "You however, at this moment, are being weak sauce…"
Sanguinius glared at Russ. "No one calls me weak sauce! Let me at the stuff!" Sanguinius began to drink the icy, foamy liquid. All the space wolves began to smash their hands and chant in tribal tongues as they gave their respect to the Angel of the Imperium. The Blood Angels soon imitated their comrades as Sanguinius emptied the flask and reached for two more.
"Now that's how its done!" Russ howled in enjoyment.
Hours later... Read More.
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