Tales of the Gunslinger [40k]

[LordOfWolves]

A/N: Hi, me again. I know that I've been kinda...well, dead lately...

But fear not! I'm still writing...sorta.



Anyway, on to the story!

By the by, the prologue is in the style of old Native American folk-tales.


~~~~~


PROLOGUE


Long ago, man looked to the stars and wondered if he could ever see what lied beyond them.


So, he made giants ships of iron and steel and he traversed the galaxy, searching for new homes.


There were many dangers that awaited him. Beast that had unspeakable forms, ungodly horrors, storms that seemed to last decades instead of moments...


During this time, there was one who decided to lead his people through this dark time.

He was known as the Golden Man.



The Golden Man raised armies of supporters, and fought against those who opposed man's place in the universe. He was revered as a god, but refused to let such a notion enter his mind, lest he grow into the very monster he was supposed to be fighting.

He used pieces of himself to create the best generals he could: the Twenty Golden Sons. The Knight-Captain, the Stone, the Angel, the Lion, the Wolf, the Favored, the Son, the Lord, the Hand, the Warrior, the Berserker, the First, the Gunslinger, the Eagle, the Dragon, the Red Seer, the Shield, the Preacher, the Rider, and the Hunter.




Alas, the Golden Man's work was for nothing as a great calamity struck and separated the Twenty from each other and their father.



The calamity would also turn some of the Twenty against each other and against their own father, but that is not the tale I shall tell you now.




Each of the Twenty landed on a unique world that they both shaped and were shaped by, molding the clay and at the same time being molded as well.




Eventually, the Golden Man grew lonely and set out to find the Twenty. His journey took him from place to place, from peril to peril. There were challenges, there were setbacks, there were mistakes.

But the Golden Man set out to find his Sons, and find them he did.



Each of the Twenty had a tale to tell their father, and the Gunslinger's is the one you shall hear from me, as the shaman before me told it, as did the shaman before him.

[LordOfWolves]

CHAPTER ONE

487.999M30, Custer's World

Sonor Desert


1045 Hours (local time)


"That two-timin' sonuvbitch! He said he'd pay us!"

"Pipe down, he's prolly jus' makin' his way out right now. With the money that we earned, might I add."

"Next time that man stiffs us on pay, I call first shot at 'im. Don't matter if I hit or miss, I jus' wanna take a shot at that bastard."

The three men were bickering amongst themselves, completely oblivious to the cloud of dust that was forming in the distance...

The first man was fatter than what was normally considered healthy (even for him), the second man was thin and ropey, and the third man looked more at home on a recruiting poster than out here in the desert. All three were wearing dusters, boots, jeans, shirts...and hats.

The first man looked out from underneath the brim of his wide hat, his wide and chubby face forming what he thought was a leer but instead looked like two void-whales mating in a very uncomfortable position, with his fat lips pouting at a weird angle and his eyebrows angled like a Thunderhawk's wings.

The dust cloud grew bigger, steadily becoming closer as the moments ticked by, yet it was still a way's a way.

"Well, it ain't time for him to show up yet. He'll come when he's ready, fellas. Jus' give the man the time he nee--" KLIIIIIIIIK-ZIIIIIIPH! The second man suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of the first man's revolver.

"I do jobs, I expect payment. That's the deal I make with my employers. All of--" ZIIIIIIIIPH-KWEEEEEE-KLIIIIIIIIIK! The first man was himself now staring down the barrel of the third man's laspistol.

"Git your finger off that trigger, hombre. Unless you ain't adverse t'me makin' a new hole in your head..."


~~~~

Space, orbit above Custer's World

Unknown time


The capsule barreled through the void, its speed increasing as it hurled itself towards the planet's atmosphere.

Time was meaningless in space, for it served no purpose. The capsule could've been traveling for minutes, days, eons, millennia, centuries, hours, or perhaps just mere seconds.

Suddenly, flames erupted around the capsule as it entered the planet's atmosphere. It shook, it strained itself against the turbulence, but it held, if only just.



Within the capsule, there was an infant. A very special infant, innocent and carefree.


And today (though days in space were as meaningless as time) was a very special day for that very special infant.

[Lord_Of_Change 9]

Ooh...a missing Primarch?