This article, Crusade Part 3, was written by NoFuryLikeMine. Please do not edit this article without their explicit permission.

“Hold the walls, let no Ork pass!”

“None will breach Castellan, lest they be dead before they step foot on the other side.” “Are you frightened Tyron?”

“I am an Astartes Maldrecht, I know no fear.”

Castellan Tyron stood side by side Castellan Maldrecht on the fortified walls of the city they were sworn to protect. Following the battle with the Greenskin warband in the canyon and the devastation the Black Templar Fighting Companies wreaked, the masses of Orks regrouped and pushed ahead forcing the Space Marines back to the city. The fighting retreat of the Templar force took a heavy toll on their enemy but still the brutes pushed on. It was now up to their forces to hold the line or die with every civilian under their protection.

A young Initiate of the Black Templars hastened across the walls to reach the two Castellans, dodging around the other Black Templars that were firing a storm of bolts into the attacking horde.

“My Lords, reports have come in stating that the Orks are setting up a supply of explosives further north along the wall from this point. Sword Brethren Barus ordered me to come find you immediately.”

“You have done well Initiate, dismissed,” Tyron nodded to the Astartes before looking at Maldrecht, “It appears we have a problem.”

“No problem for my company boy, I will deal with your problem,” Maldrecht laughed as he ran towards the location of the alleged attack.

At the section of the wall that the Orks had chosen as their apparent bomb site, Castellan Maldrecht lined up as many Black Templars as could be spared and had them firing at the Greenskins that were running back and forth from their stash of explosives.

“Fire damn it, blow them to pieces! Leave no Greenskin standing!” the Castellan roared at the Astartes surrounding him.

Gazing across the field of war he spotted a larger Ork riding a WarTrukk towards the wall. As the Trukk roared to a stop and the Warboss stepped out a mighty bellow of war cries issued across the Waagh! that had assembled. Maldrecht launched himself over the wall, falling from a tremendous height. If not for his Power Suit's ability to take heavy hits and concussive force he would surely have been killed.

Straightening to his full height the Astartes was not nearly as tall as the Warboss and yet he still stood defiant before the wall full of explosives. A border of Orks formed around him and from amid them strode the Warboss.

“Today you breath your last breath beast,” Castellan Maldrecht spoke calmly.

“You 'umies, always thinkin' youz da toughest, But youz 'aint. Im da toughest 'ere.”

The great Ork was a fearsome sight. Clad in Nobz armour with a large Power Claw in both hands he was going to be a challenge to the Astartes.

“Enough talk foul Greenskin, Death is upon you!” Maldrecht roared as he charged the beast. Swinging insanely with his blade, the Black Templar Castellan put scratches all across the Nobz armour. The strikes with the Power Claws of the Ork were far too slow and cumbersome and he easily dodged each of them, this didn't help if he couldn't penetrate his foe's armour.

The Black Templars on the wall continued to fire into the masses of Orks that had continued to try and assail the walls while the cordon of Orks surrounding the dual cheered and roared.

“Die beast!” Maldrecht charged and struck point on the Warboss' armour, plunging it deep into his chest. Only when attempting to free it again did he realise the Sword had become trapped.

Laughing at the puny weapon in his chest the mighty Ork struck out at the Black Templar with one Power Claw, sending Maldrecht flying back into City wall. Standing up the Castellan noticed the Warboss advancing on him, a big toothed grin on the beast's face. “Time for a change in tact,” he muttered to himself.

Looking around he noticed the Ork explosives next to where he had landed. What a stroke of luck, he thought. Grabbing a smaller hand-held one the Castellan charged the fuse. Looking directly into the Warboss' eyes he threw the explosive as hard as he could at the part of the armour a helmet would usually be, instead the Ork chose not to wear one. A mistake. As the explosive landed the Greenskin beast understood and his smile faltered, just as the device detonated and Ork brain matter flew everywhere.

A great cheer went up from the assembled forces on top of the fortified wall. Maldrecht raised his arms in victory and looked towards the explosives just as a Frag Grenade fell amongst them. As the cheer faltered and a look of horror went across the Castellan's face the Grenade detonated. As the Explosives went up Maldrecht and dozens of Black Templars were blasted in all directions, killing all caught in the explosion.

“Maldrecht!” Castellan Tyron watched as a part of the wall was blown to pieces and saw as the lifeless body of his brother Astartes tumbled end over end into the endless waves of Orks.

Roaring with rage, Tyron charged down the back of the walls towards the breach. It was a hole that needed to be plugged and he had to do it. Stopping before the breach he stood defiant. Any Greenskin that came near would feel his wrath unleashed with the death of his comrades.

Sounds of war could still be heard on the other side of the smoke and dust, Greenskin warcries were numerous and bolter fire could be heard. From out of the dust the head of one of the brutes was thrown and landed at the base of his feet.

The Castellan looked down at the Ork head puzzled by why it would be here, Had the Orks turned on each other with the death of their leader? Looking up at the dust again he had half a second to see as a Chainsword plunged through his chest, cutting through both his hearts in its bloody rampage through Tyron's body. As Castellan Tyron fell to his knees the warrior in front of him withdrew his Chainsword and raised the Chainaxe he held in his other hand.

The last thing Castellan Tyron of the Black Templars would see would be Karvis the Forsaken, Berzerker of Khorne and legend among Chaos. “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!” With a swing of the Khornate's Chainaxe, Tyron's headless body fell sideways, his head picked up and added to the belt of The Forsaken.

Standing over the fallen Astartes, Karvis looked over the untouched city and the pockets of Black Templars that stood shocked at the dispatch of their leader. Stepping from the dust behind him, a dozen Berzerkers of Khorne strode. Marching forward towards the frightened and running civilians and the stubborn Black Templars Karvis the Forsaken grinned beneath his helmet. “Kill and slaughter all in your path my warriors. Make this city nothing more than a tribute to the Blood God!”