The Immortal Emperor will greet me, and embrace me with his holy aura, if only I remain constant to him, through this time of torment.
These words come unbidden into my mind,and wearilyI i force my eyes to open, I am dying, I realise that now, the pain I had felt in my legs has now turned into a dull throb and the gunshot wound in my stomach has started to bleed again.
I cannot remember my name or how I came to be laying in this bomb crater, its mudded and filthy water slowly turning red as my life ebbs away, but I do know we will be remembered, remembered as traitors.
Did we know? How could we? We are guardsmen, we follow orders,I will tell you what I can, although the memories are blurred and confusing, I will tell you the horror of war, of death, duty and sacrifice. But where to begin? The trenches, yes the trenches, that is where it all began..
Now what the hell is this all about? Well dear friends you were waiting on the next, and dare I say, thrilling instalment of the Battlemallet report, well….
Unlucky! I decided to share some crafted words for you, a story if you will (only because the beastmen are drying and the kettle is yet to boil) and because the wife (editor and chief whip cracker!) will be reading this, she will then scream and then lunge towards the edit button! Such fun..