"What do you see brother?”
“There are many over that ridge, numbering in the thousands.”
“Have you spotted a leader?”
“There is a large Greenskin in a clearing off to the left of the horde, no more than a dozen of the beasts in between the woods and the boss.”
“That is good, well done Initiate. Sword Brethren Barus, order the company into formation around the perimeter of the brutes.”
“Understood Castellan Tyron.”
Castellan Tyron of the Black Templars felt as thrilled as always at the thought of combat approaching. Marching side by side with Chaplain Fior around the edge of the ridge and into the wooded area to conceal his approach, he couldn't help but enjoy the rank he had been bestowed prior to landing on this planet.
“Calm yourself Tyron, you are not as invincible as you may believe.” Chaplain Fior had been the Castellan's mentor for many years and somehow always had an idea to what Tyron was thinking.
“Understood Chaplain, I only look forward to our chance to again prove our loyalty to the Emperor.”
“Hahaha, as you say brother.”
Approaching the edge of the clearing, Castellan Tyron and Chaplain Fior crouched to the ground and readied their weapons.
“This is Castellan Tyron to Fighting Company Veil, No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!”
“No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear!” Tyron heard the reply from his Astartes.
Tyron grinned behind his helmet, “Engage at will.”
Fior and Tyron could both see and hear near on a hundred bolters open fire at once, tearing apart dozens of greenskins and sending them into a panic. The larger greenskin was bellowing orders at its followers and attempting to regain order and control. Both of the Templars launched from their hiding spots and charged towards the Warboss.
Tyron's Power Sword carved easily through two greenskins in his way while Fior's Crozius, his badge of office, bashed in the head of another sending brain matter through the air. The Astartes were forced to suddenly defend themselves as the Warboss gave up on trying to organise its kin and charged the only two enemies it could see.
“Oi, you metal boys. We is gonna stomp ya fer killin' me boyz. Dis 'ere iz Kahzragaz's land now!”
“You will meet your end at the point of my blade beast,” the Castellan replied defiantly. “Get 'ere and 'ave a go then.”
The Chaplain charged the massive Warboss swinging his Crozius Arcanum, barely managing to avoid a swing by the Ork's Power Claw as Castellan Tyron charged around the rear and with a swing of his Power Sword sliced off Kazhragaz's Kombi-Shoota. Tyron danced out of reach as the Ork swung round to hit him. Fior lunged in and landed a glancing blow across the Warboss's Mega Armour, stumbling him but not before Kazhragaz swung out again and hit the Chaplain square in the Breastplate. Fior was sent hurtling though several trees eventually landing in a heap over fifty yards away.
Castellan Tyron, in blind rage at seeing the motionless form of Fior, charged again at the Ork Warboss, hacking and slashing without any signs of form or technique.
“Dis 'ere iz fun metal boy,” Warboss Kazhragaz bellowed at Tyron, merely grinning its fanged grin as slash marks and chunks were taken out of its armour.
Hitting back at the Black Templar, the Warboss caught him with a glancing blow that knocked the Castellan down. Looking up at the towering mass of greenskin and armour above him, Tyron could still feel the defiance burning within him.
“You will fall foul beast, the crusade will exterminate you from this world!”
Out from behind the Ork Warboss, Chaplain Fior suddenly appeared and brought his Crozius in a downward arc, breaking the plates across the shoulder of the Mega Armour and distracting the massive greenskin. Kazhragaz swung over and sliced clean through the Power Armour of the Chaplain, sending blood splattering across the ground. The Warboss let the Chaplain fall to the ground and turned around in time to see the Power Sword plunge itself in between its eyes.
As the Ork Warboss realised it was dead and fell sideways to the ground, Tyron rushed over and knelt by his old mentor. The wounds were far too severe and Fior was doomed, but he would die a hero's death.
“Thankyou brother, if it wasn't for your assistance we would not have brought low that brute.”
Chaplain Fior looked at Tyron as the younger Astartes removed his helmet. He was glad his sacrifice had ensured the survival of the Castellan. This one had great potential and was sure to do the chapter great honour.
“Remember... always... brother... No Pity... No Remorse... No Fear..." With those last words the light faded from Chaplain Fior's eyes and he slumped down lifeless. Standing up from his fallen comrade, Castellan Tyron observed the battle as it had gone. Templars were moving amongst the corpses of much of the greenskin warband, finishing off those that had not fled when their Warboss was killed. Today he had lost a mentor and close brother, more importantly the Black Templar chapter had won a great victory.