My Iron Warriors: Ordinance is Magic

by Perturabo

OiM Halloween Special-The Twilight Zone

“And then, the Lord of Iron contacted First Captain Forrix to demand why he had not reduced the trajectory of the Earthshaker batteries by 1.17 degrees downwards like Magnus had requested. But Forrix told him that the Thousand Sons had already left the system. So...who was the Primarch talking to on the Vox?”

Silence dominated the hold of the Olympian Sun. It was never light-the lumen strips had been almost universally knocked out in the crash, and nobody had bothered to repair them-but tonight they’d construed to make the chamber particularly dim. Supposedly, it was for atmospheric reasons, but all it really did was make the sources of light more noticeable; namely the pairs of glowing red eyes, and the bonfire burning in the middle of the roughly circular huddle and reflected off silver armour.

Lorkhan looked from brother to brother, seeking some sort of reprieve or even an acknowledgement. There was none. Sighing, he turned off the comically-undersized torch that was illuminating his helmet from beneath, and leant forward, tossing it into the circle.

“Not scary?” The Warsmith mumbled dejectedly, staring into the fire.

“Not even slightly.” Zuko confirmed, placing a hand on his chin as slowly twisted the marshmallow on a stick held delicately between his fingers.

“It would have been scarier if the Thousand Sons had actually still been there.” Barbus added, folding his arms. “Horror beyond imagining.” There was a general mumble of assent from his brothers, most of whom had only been half paying attention anyway.

“Well, you think of a better scary story then.” Lorkhan said caustically, looking over to Rorke on his left. The Champion’s response was to merely shrug. Mordecai seemed little better. The Sorcerer had substituted his usual supply of tea for a strange substance that would have looked more at home in a cauldron than a flask, but Lorkhan had no doubt that it was anything other than perfectly civilised.

“Fine.” Varvillon finally interjected , reaching for the torch and flipping it on. “If we’re going to be stuck here all night, then allow me to regale you with a tale of terror.”

“Rorke should be ze one to tell un story.” Vortun grunted, shifting slightly. “He vas ze von zat forgot to put up ze decorations.”

“Don’t blame me, Obliterator.’ Rorke growled, pointing a finger at the once-Astartes. “Any of you could have done it, and besides, the Xenos get all antsy if you start carting buckets of blood around.”

“You could just use the fake stuff, you know.” Zuko told him flatly. “Real blood isn’t actually needed.” Rorke stared at him like he’d just spoke Nostraman.

“I don’t mean to be crass, gentlemen, but would you be so kind as to quiet down a tad? I would like to hear Varvillon’s spine-chilling offering to this little soiree.” Mordecai chimed in. Varvillon nodded in gratitude, then returned to staring at the fire, torch bathing his helmet in an unnatural light from the bottom up.

“This is the story that happened to a group of Iron Warriors, just like this one. It was a dark and stormy night, just like this one-“

“It’s not stormy.” Barbus pointed out. “It’s actually pretty clear and still out.” He was silenced by a smack round the back of the head from Lorkhan.

“Let him tell the bloody story.” Lorkhan insisted, mecha-tendrils hissing as he spoke. Varvillon waited for quiet before starting again.

“Anyway it began on a dark and stormy night. The Warsmith had just finished calculating the logistical pathways needed for his Medusa tank squadron to deploy at the correct angle against the Fortress’ curtain wall, when-“

This time, it was a quiet cough that broke the flow. Varvillon swore angrily, tossing the torch over his shoulder with a huff. The Astartes’ eyes were drawn to the source of the noise. In the doorway stood a human serf, the man’s frail body shaking slightly. He gulped as he looked down at the floor.

“This better be damn good.” Lorkhan muttered menacingly. The wretch shook harder.

“S-sorry my lords…but she just…b-burst in.” No sooner had he finished then a smaller shape, coming up to about his waist, pushed past. It was Xenos in origin, standing on all fours and clad in a simple brown hood with a short length of rope around the neck. Flecks of purple could just be made out in the dark.

“Nice costume.” The Warsmith ventured at last. Twilight nodded and smiled awkwardly, though it was clear the belly of the Chaos Marine strike cruiser was the last place in Equestria she wanted to be right now.

“Thanks.” She said, half sincerely. “I’m Clover the Clever…not that anypony knows who that is.” Her small face scrunched up in a pout that would have been adorable, had the Iron Warriors had any understanding of the concept.

“You’re right, no clue.” Zuko agreed.

“If we’d known we were having guests, we’d have cleaned up.” Lorkhan told her, a little awkwardness creeping into his own voice. She smiled more genuinely this time, casting a glance at the fire.

“Oh it’s alright, I don’t plan on staying long. IU was just…making sure you kept out of trouble.” She tried, grinning and sweating slightly as her eyes darted from side to side. “Wait a minute…” she cast another look around, frowning again. “You…you guys celebrate Nightmare Night?”

There was a chorus of generally dismissive scoffing. “We don’t participate in Xenos rituals.” Rorke grunted, hand straying to the hilt of his sword.

“Manners, dear brother.” Mordecai chided, taking another sip of his brew. Lorkhan rubbed the temple of his helmet despairingly before responding.

“We had a similar celebration on Olympia.” He explained to the Unicorn. “The Legion never celebrated it, obviously. That was far too fun. But when we heard you had a festival of a similar kind, we figured we’d give it a try.”

“It’s not easy when you’re engineered to be physically incapable of feeling fear.” Barbus put in. Twilight stared at them all for a moment, blinking in incomprehension, before giving another uneasy smile.

“Well…at least you’re entertaining yourselves…I like the Pumpkin.” She tried, eyes moving to where it sat nearby. The Iron Skull emblem of the Legion was carved on it, glowing with an inner light.

“That was mine.” Varvillon said, seemingly quite pleased with her praise. She chuckled in spite of herself, kicking a hoof nervously.

“Oh yeah!” she said at last, turning her attention to the Psyker of the group. “Urm…thanks for lending us those books. All the little ones loved them, they’ve had great fun looking for costume ideas.”

As one, the Iron Warriors turned to look at Mordecai, who continued to sip his tea diplomatically. “Books?” Lorkhan inquired in a quiet, innocent voice. “Which books were those, brother?”

“Not to worry, sir.” The sorcerer replied, putting on a reassuring smile. “I would never reveal the non-existent secrets of our jolly old band. I merely loaned our friends here a work from my personal collection detailing the various heraldry of our cousins. It seemed to my mind a harmless bit of fun.” He turned to smile at Twilight. “You are very welcome, Ms Sparkle.”

She smiled back. “Well, all the foals and fillies have had fun making the armour….and it was a fascinating read.” She admitted, blushing. “In fact, they’ve all gone for the same colour scheme-“

“They have?” Lorkhan asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “They’re all the same Legion?” She nodded. “Hmm…Night Lords, I guess. It would be appropriate.”

“…come again?” Twilight said, bemused.

“Blue armour, lightning details.” Zuko clarified.

“Fucking stupid helmets.” Rorke added. Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin thoughtfully for a moment.

“No…it wasn’t them. These guys were-“

“Death Guard, then.” The Warsmith guessed. “Big fat sick looking green guys. Bit disgusting.”

“No, it wasn’t them, I think it was-“

“World Eaters?” Zuko asked, sounding more incredulous. “They’re good in a fight, but red and bronze isn’t particularly scary.” Barbus put his hands on either side of his helmet, sticking an index finger on each skyward.

“Bunny ears.” He clarified. Twilight shook her head.

“No, it wasn’t any of them. These guys were…they looked pretty normal, actually.”

Silence for a second. “Well, I guess the only thing to do is go and have a look.” Lrokhan said at last, standing up and retrieving his axe. Twilight’s eyes widened, a panicked expression crossing her face.

“What, no! You can’t go into Ponyville tonight!” She cried. Lorkhan cocked his head to the side as around him the other Marines started to rise.

“Why not?” he queried. She looked away, searching for an excuse.

“Because…because you don’t have a costume!” she settled on. “It’s tradition, can’t go to the Nightmare Night celebrations without one!” Lorkhan looked away, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.

“You’re right.” He agreed, to her visible surprise and despair. “You, you, and you.” He said, pointing to three line Astartes. “Retrieve paper and green pens. Rorke…get the car.”

***

“Do you ever wonder if the Olympian Sun is haunted?” Barbus asked, bathed in the red light of the Growler’s inner bay. He and the other eight or so Astartes cramped inside swayed slightly as the tank’s back kicked out, speed getting the better of it. Twilight, who was currently sandwiched between Zuko and Varvillon, gave another quiet groan and turned a bit greener, but managed to keep the contents of her stomach down.

“We don’t have time for that.” Lorkhan reminded him, leaning forwards and resting his hands on his knees. “Otherwise the holiday special would be too long.”

“If you’ll permit me to recall sir, I do believe the original plan was for us to engage in fisticuffs with the…dying impaired, shall we say.” Mordecai pointed out. Lorkhan shrugged as best he could in the closed confines.

“Zombies were cliché.”

“The scariest thing is Rorke’s driving, anyway.” Zuko remarked as they swerved sharply to the left. The chuckle’s told him the others agreed.

“He got us here.” The Warsmith said, checking one of the monitors that showed the outside. “And all in one piece….except her.” He jerked a thumb at Twilight, who groaned again. “Stop us here, Rorke.” No sooner had he said it the brakes were applied, and somehow Rorke managed to flip even a tracked vehicle end-over-nose. When it had finally come to a full stop, the doors opened with a hiss of pressure. Twilight was the first out, practically sprinting and taking the opportunity to throw up. The Marines followed her out at a more leisurely place. The moon was high and unobstructed, reflecting brilliantly off their gleaming silver armour. Contrary to Barbus’ assertions, there was a degree of wind, and a couple of the sheets of paper affixed to the Space Marine’s armour were ripped off and carried away.

“Nor costume.” Lorkhan said. “Guess you can’t come in.”

“I’m not sure drawing crude pictures of snakes on paper and sticking it to our armour counts as an Alpha Legion costume.” Zuko deadpanned.

“It…kind of does.” Varvillon pointed out. There was another general mumble of assent. With that they set off, the small band making their way closer to the centre of town. A couple of the Ponies-similarly dressed up, although with slightly more effort involved-had stopped to look at the Dirge Caster’s blaring as the Rhino pulled in, but now merely shook their heads, rolled their eyes and continued with the festivities. They passed punch bowls and a wide variety of games, and were only slowed when Rorke was hit in the face by a toy spider thrown at him with some force. When questioned, Zuko insisted ‘an older boy told me to do it’.

Finally, they reached a familiar face. She stood at a stand selling all kind of ‘spooky’ foodstuffs, though her own costume was anything but.

“You actually came as an apple.” Barbus stated emotionlessly as they walked towards her. Applejack scowled at them, but gave a slow nod. Sighing audibly, Barbus reached into a pouch on his belt and handed a small sack of bits across to Zuko, who took it seemingly with satisfaction.

“What are y’all doin’ here?” She asked, seemingly genuinely annoyed. “This here’s a party for honest pony folks only, not…whatever you gahs are.”

“Relax.” Lorkhan said, holding up a forestalling hand. The paper with the snake on it that he had stuck over his face flapped in the wind. “We’re not going to do anything too violent. We just wanted to see what design the infants had picked out from Mordecai’s stupid little book.” Applejack looked at him suspiciously, before gesturing over his shoulders.

“They’re just comin’ back now, ah reckon. They’ve been with Mayor Mare at the Naghtmare Moon statue.” She glared angrily. “For some reason, Zecora didn’t show up this year.” The Space Marines ignored her, instead turning to look at the herd of Fillies and Foals.

Twilight was right, they certainly had all made the effort. Much of the armour was shocking, or at best a poor imitation, but every one of them wore some form of replica. The curves were defined, the chest stocky, the fist on the shoulder black, the colour a vivid yellow…

Wait.

“Hold me back.” Lorkhan said, flatly. None of his brothers looked at him, instead focusing on the ponies and keeping absolutely still. It was only when he exploded with a frenzied battlecry and started charging towards the group, swinging the axe like a maniac, that they followed-most of them doing the same. The little ponies screamed at his coming, children running this way and that in an attempt to avoid the oncoming fury of the Chaos Marines. Zuko tried to resist, attempting to lock himself in place, but found himself carried along by the tide unless he wanted to be trampled underfoot. As the ponies darted down every corridor to escape, the group of Iron Warriors too dispersed to catch them, eventually disappearing from sight altogether. The only account of their presence was the squeal of Xenos and the boom of wild and inaccurate gun fire.

Mordecai remained motionless, giving a sigh and shaking his head with a fraternal half-smile plastering his features. He took a sip of his drink, savouring it for a moment, before turning his head and gazing blankly. To Applejack, he seemed to be staring gormlessly into space-as if he was trying to see through a wall, where beyond some people were reading about him on the internet. The sorcerer smiled again, taking another sip.

“On behalf of the Iron Warriors Thirteenth Grand Company, do have a smashing Halloween!”

Comments

[Orkz]

Oh, now THAT was amusing.

[Dracio]

That was beautiful good sir just beautiful.
Iron Within, Iron Without

[Cadmium]

I expected that....
But i thought horror stories told by the Iron Warriors involved shoddily build fortifications and sieges without proper equipment to break the walls manned by Imperial Fists.

[Perturabo]

3429228

I didn't want to deprive you of sleep completely.