Wolf's head snapped round at the sound of gunfire, heavy caliber, fired from crude guns with nothing to suppress the sound. Ork guns! It couldn't be a tribal feud, he knew that much, they preferred to settle disputes with fists and choppas. So they must be shooting at a friend. A guardsmen. A brother was in trouble. A dull crump resounded through the woods. A grenade. Imperial or Ork?
The vox crackled, confirming his suspicions.
Imperial forces...ksshh...ork contact, prepare for combat
He set off at a dead run, ignoring the noise he was making and the dismayed cries of his squad. There had been no callsign, suggesting it was urgent. If it was Thomas, it was imperative he got there as soon as possible. Pulling out his vox, he raised it to his lips.
Wolf to Unknown, recieved. Hold your position, support is on the way.
At the pace he was travelling at, he didn't notice the huge green being in his path until the last minute, and he crashed into its broad back, falling down. The ork staggered forward a pace, looking confused, then spun round, fury on its ugly features, a wide-bore pistol clutched in one great fist. The other held a massive axe, what Wolf knew the orks called 'choppas', and this concerned him far more. The ork pointed the slugga in his vague direction and squeezed the trigger, an enormous roar filling the clearing, a shrub some distance behind him vaporised. Wolf ducked involuntarily, then pulled out his knife; a rifle would be no use here, so he let it fall to the ground, following it as the choppa swung in a vicious circle towards his head. Recovering quickly, he leapt up and charged as the ork vainly tried to pull the hefty weapon from a tree where it had been embedded. That made things easier. Much easier. He stabbed the beast in the eye, and it roared in anger and pain, jerking its head - and the knife - away from Wolf. Unarmed, he had lost his advantage, and the ork was now enraged and probably wouldn't realise it was dead for a short while yet. It screamed, a barbaric, chilling noise, pulled the knife from its eye and hurled it at him, striking his shoulder hilt first. He fell to the ground with a cry, knowing he'd have a monster of a bruise there in the morning. Flipping to his feet, he caught the eye of the beast, and time slowed. Bright yellow, the pupil small and dark, it took him back to his first ork. He had killed that with a standard bayonet, not having won his knife yet, thrusting it into that hateful face over and over while it pounded his chest in anger and pain, stabbing over and over until the head was a bloody mass, over and over...
The head of the ork vaporised, and Wolf blinked, scarcely hearing the snap-crack of the lasgun. A red mist hung in the air, and the body slowly toppled. With the thump of corpse on earth, he snapped out of his reverie, glancing round to see who had made the killshot. Fern stalked past him, giving him a look that clearly stated she thought he was a total moron, and pulled the necklace of ork teeth from around what was left of the neck. A trophy. Why a trophy? But of course! This was her first ork. He winked at her, giving her a thumbs up, but got a scathing look in return. He relaxed slightly, and bent to pick up his weapons. If she wasn't flirting, she was just scared half to death, and he thought he knew why. Nice to know someone cared about him.
'Right, let's get to where the gunshots came from. Maybe we can solve this little mess without further incident.'
The squad followed him, and they burst out into a clearing, and Wolf held up a hand to indicate they should stop. Ork spores, but also blood. There had been a fight here, and the orks had lost. There was also the recognisable tang of Imperial explosives in the air. If the guardsmen responsible for the warning were nearby, they were well hidden, unless... nearby, a bloody mass lay butchered. Wolf approached it cautiously; orks had been known to booby-trap corpses in the past. He crouched down beside it, frowning.
'What the-?'
Last edited by Fenrix; 09-16-2008 at 04:05 PM.
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