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08/28/09(Fri)06:49 No.5625599 File1251456565.jpg-(75 KB, 583x648, Kasrkin3.jpg)
“The War had lasted three long years by the time we reached the pass at Sarlax, one of the secondary routes to the capital city of Forea. We had chased the Orks across that endless blasted continent, every inch stained with our own blood. They had taken this world from the Emperor, and he wanted it back. Intelligence kept telling us they were on the ropes, that any day now they would collapse, yet they never seemed to diminish in numbers.” The only other trooper of the 13th sitting next to him nodded solemnly. “We were within miles of the great capital, we could see it on the horizon, closing off one of the ways of escape. Tacticae told us not to worry, that this was a quiet sector!” Ezekiel laughed gruffly. “How wrong they were. Resistance slowly rose until we stopped dead and our Colonel realized we were facing down the barrel of a full blown Goffs war-horde. We were pitifully under strength, battered by the non-stop years of fighting. That’s why we’d been placed in the bloody sector after all. Our Colonel shouted, threatened, and begged for help, but there simply wasn’t troops enough available. The navy and the artillery corps promised they’d do what they could, but they couldn’t promise a miracle. Hopeless was the word they used, I believe. Our liaison did everything but offer fellatio to the Dark Angels accompanying the Guard, but they wouldn’t come. Too valuable to waste on a lost cause, they said.” Varl, seated on a huge wooden throne, let out a harsh grunt of a laugh. He half smiled at the Kasrkin, revealing a long canine that pushed past his lower lip. |