Mortarion's Sons monstrous women trouble

Chapter one: Invasion

Standing in a field lush green grass, well as lush as much his home planet, Barbarus could yield. His sight focused onto a small cottage, smoking bellowing out of it's rustic chimney.
He took a step forward, drawn to the building. He reaches a pale hand out, hoping to grab it so this time it doesn't leave his sight once again.

He was again surprised to see his unarmored, un-diseased hand, the 'gifts' their grandfather gave them basically fusing his tainted armor to his flesh. He moved his hand closer to his face, once again marveling at the now uncanny sight.

A figure was standing at the door of the cottage and called out his name, waving for him to come back for a meal. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the person, they kept being blurry and unfocused. "Coming." Came from his lips subconsciously as his legs would start to move on their own towards the cottage.

As he drew closer the groaning of rusting metal was heard behind him. He tried to force himself to move forwards faster but the sound drew closer and closer as a familiar wave of putrid smog washed over the ground before him. A large hand grabbed his shoulder, it's touch burned his skin, forcing him to face the dark green armor behemoth behind him.

The red lense door into his soul before the armor began to crack open all over like that of a daemon's mouth, with sharp shark like teeth. It lunged at him before the world went black.

His eyes open to view he was the puss defiled stasis chamber turned plague bed. He pushed open the door to the chamber, allowing the vile content to fall onto the grated floor, corroding the metal further.

"Rest well brother?" The grotesque and ear grating voice of this warband's lord greeted him with his ear to ear, maggot filled smile. Serok grunts in response as he grabs his scythe from the shambling pox walker that was holding it. He'd try to swipe the tainted sludge off his trusted weapon.

"We have found a uncharted world in this sector, it usually wouldn't be anything of worth of note of course, no major defenses, factories, but our grandfather brought us here for a good reason." The lord chuckles as the lush planet with large dark blue oceans, green forests and a few mountain ranges littered the surface was shown of the sickly green holoscreen.

"I'm having you and a two squads of marines to drop onto the surface, we shall corrupt this world personally~." He cheerfully speak as eroded ceramite plate that covered partially leaking out organs, jiggled loosely.

Serok would begin to make his way to the drop pod bay, his suit hissing and moaning with each step. He would like to get this over quickly so he may go back to his primarch instead of babysitting this lord in his battles.

He would soon reach festering bay, many drop pods here older than or almost his age laid, all tainted in one form or another. He'd walked be walking into the eldest one, been here since the dusk raiders changed into the death guard.

The metal plating was almost all gone, minus the flooring in the middle. Now all it had was the stretched flesh, writhing tendrils and and acid spit to replace what it had lost.

The two squads of marines would stride in as best they could, filling in this pod as best they could and the ones next to them. The doors close up tightly and the pods launch out of the bay as strong as the old mechanisms could. The way down was completely silent aside from the sound of them breaking through the atmosphere.

Once they broke through the atmosphere, they were jostled around a bit, and the pod would let a uncharacteristic screech of pain the entire way down. Serok has seen this old thing survive multiple drops, each one it didn't do this.

The pod landed with thud and the doors slammed down, a wave of pain wash over all of them. It hurt but wasn't going to stop them, Serok would strut out, hand tightening around the handles of his scythe. Behind him followed suit the rest of the marines, one having a plasma gun, the rest having their bolters.

The other pods land with thunderous cries. Their occupants strut out, same load out, but one with stumbling legs was tightly wielding a corrupted fail that had each censor spewing a putrid green mist, that was starting to oddly turning black as it left said censors.

'This will need to be quick, something is wrong with this planet.' Serok mentally spoke to himself. Too many things were not right with this planet and it was causing him to worry a little. He points in the direction were his auspex were telling him a small town nearby.

The two squad Sergeant would nod and begin their low, tainting mark towards this town. Their unclean and broken power backs were spewing smoke high into the sky, no doubt giving away that something was coming.

A lone man with white robes with golden trim with armor hidden underneath it. He was sitting in the church tower in the center of his small hamlet.

He was scribbling into a journal, when a man in similar robes but one...showing off a lower status.  "Father! Another raiding party is on their way! Scouts have been sent out to see what this one is." The man was quick to say, his voice trembling as this would sadly be the third one in two weeks.

This little hamlet has been raided by orcs, and lizard folk with the help of a few tougher and violent versions of their cousins.

"This is not good, tell the men to prepare to ready their arms once again, and if it is needed I'll send a message for help again." He orders as his brows frown as he stands up after the robed pupil of his left. He gives a hardy tug at something underneath his desk, pulling out a chest with three black iron locks sealing shut.

"I was hoping not to need the spend the church's reserve, but it may need to be done." He said as he produces a ring of keys from underneath his robes. The lid creaks open as a dim yellow light encompassed his face.

[Hello all! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Constructive criticism very welcomed!