Well, the nights are getting colder, and the old calender is counting down the days to a particularly special day, for all mankind to celebrate, and be with their loved ones. A day commonly associated with red, jolliness and frivolity, and more than a few glasses of something to warm oneself. That’s right dear fellows, Christmas is but a few short days away. And to celebrate the joy of the season, I thought it would be nice to share a traditional story from my family that fellow hobbyists may enjoy. May your Christmas be jolly, full of holly… and other things ending in olly…
And for those of our number who are hoping Santa has a copy of Betrayal at Calth to put in their stocking, keep your eyes peeled in the New Year for a series of blogs with tips and tricks for how to get the most out of your armies using the Horus Heresy ruleset, and what to consider purchasing to expand your army when you do want to play bigger games.
From all at Team PaintingChap, we wish you a merry, healthy and peaceful Christmas, and a happy and prosperous New Year to all our friends, followers, contributors, and most importantly readers. Thank you for your support over the last year, and we hope to see you back in the New Year. Anyway, I’ll shut up and get on with the story. I hasten to add it is not a story of my own devising, if I knew who the writer was I would give due credit, however if you wish to know the source, please contact us.
Merry Christmas all :). ~Joe
Twas the night before 986996.M41, and all through the station
All there was clear, there was no abomination.
My helmet was set on the desk to my right,
On the chance that I was to need it that night.
The guardsmen were ensconced, asleep in their beds,
All the tanks too were safe, secure in the sheds.
Marines in the barracks, some manning the wall,
Assured me that the bastion never would fall.
When out in the yard there arose such discord
I grabbed up my bolter and unsheathed my sword.
Away to the window, I ran to take aim
As the marines around me all did the same.
My bionic eye turned the night into day
Allowed me to see, and to seek out my prey.
When what did my loyalist ocular show,
But an ancient conveyance, knee-deep in the snow.
The vehicle was pulled by horned quadrupeds
And a fiery red nimbus glowed from the sled.
The driver was mighty, his eyes full of scorn,
Dressed all in crimson like a servant of Khorne.
I gestured for other to shoot without pause,
For I was now certain this was Santa Claus.
“Fire Marines! Fire Guardsmen! Fire Ogryn and Ratlings!
Fire bolters! Fire lasguns! Fire mortars and gatlings!”
“You in the courtyard and you men on the walls!
Now blast away! Blast away! Blast away all!”
But all through this maelstrom the evil one flew,
Past plasma and bolt shells and frag that we threw!
And then, to my horror, I heard on the roof
The vile cavorting of each decadent hoof.
Screaming my orders, I spun quickly around,
As down the chimney shaft it came with a bound.
I saw its eyes glow, its vast stomach gurgle,
Bloated and fat, like a deamon of Nurgle.
Blinded by anger, I attacked with a scream –
Charged into battle with my brave space marines.
As we thundered towards him, closing the rift,
He reached in his satchel and pulled out a gift.
Then it tossed the vile boxes – I fell in a stoop,
As they arced through the air at me and my troops.
The wrapped missiles fell short, and plopped at our feet,
Our morale was quite strong, we did not retreat.
But the marines paused – our charge was disrupted,
They picked up the gifts and were quickly corrupted.
For each box contained a chaotic present –
The marines (damn their souls), found them quite pleasant.
A bolter, a flamer, a new power fist,
The Claus gave to all, and he checked off a list.
It moved through the station and left in its wake,
The sound of bright laughter and the stench of fruitcake.
The others succumbed, but it failed in its goal,
For to me it gave only a small pile of coal.
The station was lost, I could only instruct
The bastion computer to set self-destruct.
I failed to kill him, for I saw as I fled,
The target escaping, quite safe in his sled.
I heard it cry out as the base burst into light,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”