WarHammer 40,000: Recreation (Frost Lords Fan Fiction)

[PurgeMaster]

For many years, I have had a facinasion of Chaos Marines and their Novels. After reading 'Soul Hunter', 'A Thousand Sons' and 'The First Heretic', I have wanted to write a fan fiction about a self-made war band called the Frost Lords. I hope this is an enjoyable read.

[spoiler=Chapter 1:Return and Heritage]
There was a shudder as the drop pod broke into the atmosphere of Phlanks. It had reverberated to every unit of power armour each member was wearing. It made a dull ringing sound that was only slightly irritating. But it was expected.
Phlanks was a small planet, its surface pitted with craters left by war and mining. The populace of the planet was at only a third of what it was previously. The raids by the Dark Hunters to purge this sector of space had cost the planet dear, and many of the remaining civilians had their tails between their legs, begging for mercy from beings who knew not these emotions, and butchered them with bolter and chainsword.
It sickened Hakor. He despised the loyalists, who worshiped a corpse sat in a throne, supposedly leading his great conquest of the Galaxy in order to protect mankind from the horrors of space. And this is their way of repaying them.
Phlanks had only turned renegade for a few years, and used to be the recruiting planet for the Frost Lords, but it had rejected their leader after a neighbouring planet fell. This did not bother the Frost Lords, as they had many planets that were loyal to the services of their great leader; Iridius. But it was still a shock to see this former ally cut down in such a fashion. And was one of the reasons for the return.

[i]I can't be late, I can't be late, I can't be late! [/i] thought Fern as she ran through the streets of her hive city. It was now a ghost town, as hardly anyone went out anymore, especially after the... incident. [i]Yale will have my head on a spike if I don't hurry![/i]. And that was when she heard it. The faint whine of engines, the rushing of air high up as it was forcefully moved, the monotonous burning of fuel. She stopped and looked up. And she gasped when she saw them.
Pale of white drop pods, with a blue trim that looked like ice.
"Throne..." she whispered, not meaning to sub-vocalise this thought, "their back. Their back." She sprinted down the roads, hollering at the top of her voice "THEIR BACK! THE FROST LORDS ARE BACK!"
This aroused a crowd of people who exited their house, most unable to comprehend her and staggering, others just wondering what this hysterical woman was yelling about. But when they craned their necks back and saw the flotilla of drop pods, they fully understood.

The drop pods landed in the centre of the town, making unintentional crates in the rockcrete. When the doors fell open, ten armoured figures walked out, with bolters magnetically locked onto their thigh. Each member was fully armoured except for one, whose helmet had been removed as soon as the drop pod had landed.
Each of them were astraties; men who had whored their humanity in order to serve the false Emperor until the Great Heresy of Horus. After that, the Emperor was now a corpse lord leading men to their destruction in the supposed name of humanity against the likes of heretics, Chaos and xenos, both intelligent and barbaric.
Their armour was a mixture of many different types, some that pre-dated the Heresy, others that were Mark eight or nine, the newest available to the loyalist marines. They had pillaged any armour they could get off of the fallen marines they killed, as with their weapons and ammunition. On their right shoulder, there was an etched crystal, with a light blue complexion with a refracting effect on any light hitting it, with a pair of bronze swords through it. This was the mark of the Frost Lords, and every renegade astraties wore a different crystal mined out of the cliff face called 'Ragnak'.
The origins of 'Ragnak' remain a mystery, except that when they first landed as a dejected war band of the Black Legion, the crystals of 'Ragnak' helped guide the way for the original warriors of the war band. Each crystal was a remembrance of those original few, and each had the heritage of a former warrior.
Unlike most war bands and legions of Chaos, the Frost Lords strictly forbid the dabbling in the Ruinous Powers of the four Chaos Gods. They despise those war bands who do, but their rivalry goes further when either the Purge or the Brass Blades are concerned. This was due to a historical event that happened 100 years earlier.

Hakor breathed in the fresh air of Phlanks. It was rare that he would get the chance to go planet-side, as they were constantly engaged in void war in space against the Impirium or the enigmatic race of the Eldar. It was soothing, and reminded him of his home planet.
"Sir," voxed one of his team members, most likely Karsh, "what are your orders regarding the local populace?" His tone was that of confusion, and he was right to be so; it was so long since they had been to a world and turn them that he had no idea about what to do.
"Keep all weapons at your side, but do not reach for them." He voxed back on an open channel, so the whole team could hear. "This is a delicate mission, and we don't want to alarm the populace. If the situation turns against us, and the locals try to attack us, raise your bolters but do not fire."
After some signs of acknowledgement from the rest of his squad, he closed the channel. He then looked up at the blue sky, now streaked with contrails left by the drop pods. There was a faint tone in the background ambience. It was quiet, but easily distinguished by his enhanced hearing. He could tell the rest of his men also heard this.
"Brothers," he announced, "to the designated landing sight. Our lord awaits us."
[/spoiler]
I know this chapter is a bit all-over-the-place, and their is not much plot developement, but it will get better as time goes on.
Next Chapter: Reclimation

[PurgeMaster]

Chapter II is coming soon.