I have managed to translate a three part story from the Universe section of the HD main site. It explains how the Westerners get in and out of hell
I used several online translation systems to translate this, so it might not be spot on but it's pretty good, any way
Thus it begins....Part 1Three months earlier, free city of MadgeburgA grey dawn got up on the martyred city of Magdeburg. Those of her inhabitants who had survived roamed aimlessly, like ghosts, faces dirty with soot and grime. The dogs were competing for the remains of the dead with the soldiery. Around us everything was just ruin and misery. I progressed with my squadron in the middle of calcined buildings, on a pavement soiled by blood and by corpses. The breeze of the morning was whirling the soot burned remains of the Hanseatic city, blocking our vision, dirtying our lungs. In an alley below, a girl succumbed to shrieks in the carnal appetite of her executioners. Her parents were content to watch, glassy eyed, throats cut. I diverted my gaze in front of this repeated merry-go-round
A sort of tiredness invaded me, a felling of déjà vu. At night the ghosts of my victims were tormenting me. The cacophony of their cries resounding in my head, shouting, swearing, cursing me! May they burn in hell! I did my job as a soldier, nothing more.
My iron chapel adjusted and my armour plating tightened, I ignited a good big cigar shielded from the wind. Savoring the bitter stenches of the tobacco mixed with the powder, I took position on the pinnacle of a destroyed temple. My gaze drifted into the distance, I saw the slopes of the Elba bathed in the light of the fading day and the small fires of the garrisons still on guard in the trench circle. Closer to me, the city steps, the Elba covered with a shroud of mist, sparkled with a thousand fires. The moon would die little by little in a dirty sky punctured with a red sun. God, by your mercy, allow me to again contemplate your sun. There where I go, Lord, I shall keep only a weak memory.
A door had opened on hell. The idea of throwing myself into the lair of the devil terrified me completely. According to some, this demonic portal was the result of our barbarity and our growing depravity. I did not know what to think, in truth I wanted to drink until the situation changed, however I was expected at dawn, not far from the door. I was finally going to see the beasts of my nightmares.
A forced entry had been decided by the Compte de Tilly, our general. His whim encouraged that a soldier should enter first
The rest of the troop waited for us two streets back from the door, a little annoyed. The rain had replaced the sun and large drops were falling on the exposed guards. God pissed on us from above, he must have his reasons. I have to admit that before dancing with Lucifer, a small keeping back of his divine bladder would not have been too much.
Finally………..
Part 2(This picture of the
Gates of Hell should help you visiualise this part of the story)
The company had been ordered into single file for parade. The officers dress shimmered, and he was accompanied by a sinister Jesuit under a black cloak.
Thuggish soldiers with weasel faces made up the rest of the troop. They were equipped like my men, muskets and swords. Their tendency to turn coat in a very shitty situation indicated them at first sight as troops which we could sacrifice.
My ten verterans, hardened by a decade of war, would act as shock troops. Tilly had come to attend our departure. The man I knew had changed. His speech was great and noble, his features emaciated, his skin waxy.
In passing the cordon guards supposed to control access to the door, Tilly left me
“I’m sorry Hans”
Which made me cold down my back. Already a smell of decomposition reached my nostrils, a deaf humming was heard: in voices, pleasant, intoxicating, a noise of water falling. The temperature began to rise little by little, and in less than ten fathoms I saw it, I was there!
Terrifying, fascinating, gigantic, devilish, were my first thoughts!
Long Bridge in the bastion of Holzmarch, a Vortex crackling of purpurins flashes of lighting swirled on the Elba. A scarlet luminescence pulsated on it’s surface bubbled like a gigantic pot….. Hundreds of corpses floated within the maelstrom of great art, deserving of the human race.
On banks dirtied with mud and with ash, a gigantic arched hoist had been built by the sappers. Worthy of the most beautiful Gothic cathedrals, built with the bronze and the blackened iron of the devastated city, this crane had to make a way to cross the door in a cogue loaded with good and faithful Christians. The destination: Hell!
We the first boarded our ship. The men were shaking, vomiting, some shit themselves above. After a fiery sermon from the priest, we were marked with a red iron, each with a different number. We were damned now, in the eyes of all.
Our lives would never be the same again. It was not brilliant before, however I’ll let you imagine the afterwards. The smell of burned flesh and death below filled our nostrils. The boat pitched, the chain of descent clicked, we went down, we sank, body and soul.
When the cogue touched the surface a great light struck me, and I saw all the major events of my life again, in an accelerated state. The men roared, convulsed, drooled or spat blood. A strident noise resounded in my head. I lost consciousness, the world closed in around me.
Part 3How, how did we get here. After fighting in all four corners of Europe, I thought I had seen everything. The rules were simple then, just a dirty enterprise between people of ill will. We raped here, we violated there, we always plundered, by vice or out of necessity. Sometimes, for amusement, we would slice a guy or two, the teasing side of a soldier I presume.
The rules of the game differ greatly in the worlds of hell. Having nerves of steel before entering was certainly required.
We should never have come here. This world is not ours and now it is too late to turn back. A place in the ballet of death, blood and tears.
Deus misere Mei…
A distant echo reached me, a kind of diffuse, a constant buzzing. It was dark, cold and wet. I perceived, on all sides, groans of agony. The faces in the dirt, the crossed arms, I noticed with a certain horror, that half of the company had not survived the test of the journey.
The brains of several men had come through their noses as a thick black jelly. Other soldiers convulsed, eyes contorted, trousers soiled. My spirits returned little by little, the light took on its colours again; my ears were finally cleared of their echo. A metallic taste stayed at the back of my throat.
A nightmare landscape encircled us. A vast plain of whitish dust on a heavenly purpurin field, the hells welcomed us in a most inhospitable way. Stemming from innermost infernal depths, a breath in the mephitic drizzle swept us of all its fury.
The hull was still connected by its chain to the world of the living. It rested like a large tench on a brownish and pasty river: a kind of sewer, lazy and overloaded with rubbish. A stinking smell reigned here as a king, we smelt nothing more. Vermilion flashes of lighting streaked the sky in the distance. In the sky, huge obsidian coloured clouds waved, as dark standards beaten by winds.
The captain and his priest were stunned but alive. Fortunately, none of my men were dead. The thuggish soldiers still alive began to understand the magnitude of their stupidity.
A howl resounds far off, a cry of alarm. Enemies were approaching
“Diamond formation, with harquebusiers lads!”
Out of nowhere, as if called by the wind, dozens of forms appeared around the company, within a hundred fathoms. We were at a disadvantage
“Back to the river!”
The officer knew it, but the chance to outdo the natives was tempting
It was then we saw what these horrendous creatures looked like. Sad puppets in squalid colours, humanoids hopping as toads, these monstrosities with the vitreous stare were threats of murder on legs. Their sole purpose, our bloodshed. I believe that our very souls were outraged at this mocking of humanity.
I spotted the ugliest in the middle of all the others. Quite a feat; it was even uglier than my brother-in-law, and it must be said that his head was no good luck charm. I aimed, bawled orders to my men, pulled the trigger and relaxed. The shots hit it full in the middle of head. My men all fired, and there was the tragedy. Rather than stop their lazy race, the shooting motivated them to advance.
With the first losses the thuggish soldiers scattered. The Sloth’s cut them to pieces. Screams resounded far off. The other damned souls with spindly bodies advanced as if the devil was in them. Having metal splinters, bored right through their muscles, these monsters used their suffering as a source for their fury. Their transplants of iron and bronze sank into the bare flesh of the deserting men.
Tilly’s rabble collapsed, all that remained was our captain and our last square. Pierced by the anchor of one of the Fury, the priest appealed to god. An appearance of divine aura restored his hope.
The captain asked my men to perform a final heroic charge for honour. I answered him politely to go and be deflowered in the backside by Beelzebub and ordered the men to retreat. Shoulder against shoulder, foot by foot the men fell orderly back, spitting death into the enemy ranks. Five of the Fury had been calmed and two of the Sloth’s were about to sleep for good.
The hull was looming behind us. One of my men collapsed. Moving into a circle formation the end was inevitably close. The officer broke down in a burst of greenish fire. A creature the size of a dog had clung to his neck and spat in his face. The dust raised around us. The hull was there, two steps away. A slight respite in the action allowed us to board the ship and pull vigorously on the chain, a signal to those above. The sky seemed to wriggle, flashes of lighting sparkled in hundreds of places.
The portal was there! Yes, up, at any cost!
The rail of the boat served us as parapet; my messenger boys thrashed about as beautiful devils, firing at an exceptional pace. Each shot reached its target and the ground was littered with corpses. Far off, the dark clouds broke up, revealing to our immense joy a clouded break in hells sky. Suddenly the hull shifted and we began to rise towards our good old Madgeburg. A meter, two meters….. three Fury clung to the port side. The used their sharp grafts to climb aboard the ship. They were uninvited and Jürgen managed to lever one free to fall back to the hellish earth. After bitter fighting I finished the last with my Sabre, thrusting and re-thrusting I split the guy in two.
Below the swarming figures watched as we broke through the mouth of hell. This was obviously not an enjoyable experience for them as they fled, tails between their legs, but we were alive, yes alive!
Surviving, this is the game we play here, just surviving. I leave to the heroes the care of dying.
Auteur
