At 5/25/05 09:00 AM, SomeIRONY wrote: I'm a Warhammer fantasy player
Dude this is the WarHammer
40K Club use the search bar to find any existing Warhammer fantasy clubs if you dont find one then make your own. But if you play 40k then yeah make yourself at home. If you just wanna chill and shoot the breeze then come by whenver. but still pay attention to the club's ENTIRE name not the first word joo see. Well bye.
oh and gav I used my (hmmm need another mascot or whatever) oh i got it how bout umm oh I used my LIGER reflexes and accepted your buddy request.
And Now Scum's help me hotline!
dude- Hey man i need your help!
Scum-(clock voice) what is it dude
dude-WHATS A LIGER?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Scum-(napoleon dynamite voice) pretty much my favorite animal, it's like a lion and a tiger mixed, bred for its skillz in magic.
dude-THANX!
This has been a Scum Production
Scum Studios is a registerd tradeamark.
Has any one saw Napoleon Dynamite before or now or after?
Well, seeing as nobody has posted and that im really bored, I AM going to show you a story, about WH40, that i wrote fo my Language Arts class.....i got a 93% dun dun duun!
Jack walked slowly toward the bridge of the Osiris, an Imperial Battleship of the Imperium. As he walked through the hallways of the battleship, people were busily repairing parts of the battleship that were damaged and Jack had time to gather his thoughts about the past three months. Exactly three horrible, long months ago, the Osiris was heavily damaged in a firefight with enemy ships, and all the ships long-range communicating equipment and sensors were damaged. The admiral of the Osiris was able to save the spaceship by ordering it to jump into the warp. The warp is a different dimension that allows battleships to cover great distances very quickly. Although this saved the ship and crew, they now had no idea where they were, could not communicate through radio or computer systems, and had limited supplies.
For the last three months everyone onboard the Osiris had been busy trying to repair the ship, or looking for a planet using the minicrafts aboard the ship so that they could get supplies, directions, or equipment. Jack blinked suddenly to clear his thoughts. He had already gotten to the bridge, and Jack took long strides past the security guards who were guarding the door.
Captain Jack Ryles came to a sudden stop behind the admiral of the Osiris, and questioned, “Admiral?” The admiral, deep in thoughts, twitched slightly at the sound, and he turned around quickly as he saluted the captain.
“I want you to take a team down, captain,” stated the Admiral.
“Down where?” asked Jack.
The admiral stepped aside and saw the expression of wonder as the captain saw a planet through the thick glass of the helm, and he replied, with a gleam in his eye and a slight grin, “To the surface, Captain Ryles!”
Jack and the six other members of his team were clad in steel Imperial body armor and equipped with high power laser rifles, as they stepped onto the Valkery transport ship. The Valkery was the standard troop transporter of the battleship, and it was about twenty feet long and had a wingspan of forty feet. The seven-man squad quickly went in the Valkery. As the rest of his squad fastened themselves into their leather seats, Jack quickly jogged to the cockpit to talk to the pilots. There were two pilots and a personal pilot guard. After chatting with the pilots, the captain swiftly went back and strapped in.
The overhead communications network boomed on as a pilot announced, “Preparing for take off!”
“Good luck!” rang the voice of the admiral on the communications unit as the Valkery began to move forward.
“Take-off in 3… 2… 1!” screamed the pilot as the rear engines kicked into action. The mini-craft rocketed forward into the blank emptiness of space, and the squad felt the tremendous pressure barring down on them. As the aircraft went through the atmosphere, Jack and his team got their first true look at the planet. The glaring sun beat down on the mini spacecraft as it flew over the strange, alien planet.
“Look, buildings!” exclaimed a squad member that Jack knew as Bill.
Jack stared out of the small, thick glass windows that clotted the interior of the craft, and ordered the pilot, over the communications unit, “Hey, we have got some buildings below us. Set her down just beyond the edge of the city, preferably on top of a hill.”
“Roger that,” replied a pilot as the aircraft began to loose altitude at an astonishing rate. Jack glanced out the small window again. The small planet was made up mostly of water. But the city was in the middle of a desert. Many of the buildings he had seen in the city appeared to be made out of pure white marble, and many of the structures were dome-shaped. It appeared as though the city was deserted. As the Valkery touched down, sand was billowed around in large gusts, clogging up the windows with thick sand.
“Readings?” Jack asked.
“Fine,” replied the co-pilot, “41% oxygen, and 59% nitrogen.”
“Prepare your lungs,” the pilot warned, “every breath you take will make you want to gag, and it may take a while for you to get used to it”.
“Roger that,” replied the squad as they unhooked themselves and picked up their discarded weapons. The ramp descended slowly as bright light trickled into the inside of the Valkery. The new air flooded into the room, and two members felt it immediately. Bill’s eyes bulged as he struggled to breath, and he fell over with his throat rasping as it tried to breathe unfamiliar air.
“A bit more oxygen?” Bill managed to rasp as he struggled to his feet. Jack Ryles helped Bill to his feet and asked, “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” answered Bill, “I just had a bit of a shock, that’s all.”
“Happens even to the best of us,” Jack stated, grinning.
“Okay team,” bellowed the Captain, “let’s move out!” The highly trained squad moved cautiously across the desert, towards the city. As they crossed the barren sand, their boots crunched into age-old sand, sending puffs of dust into the chilly air. The squad climbed higher onto the hill, and the harsh wind blew against them, whipping their army uniforms all around them.
Finally they came upon the ruined city. It was even more marvelous when they saw it close up. Each member of the squad became very eager to explore it.
“Well,” Captain Jack Ryles muttered in wonder, “let’s get going!” The squad jogged quickly through the ancient stone entrance to the city, which, over time, had become nothing more than rubble. Jack Ryles ordered the squad to move inside one of the white, dome-shaped buildings.
“Well, I don’t think anybody is home,” Bill remarked as the squad stared around the inside of the advanced dwelling. Jack spoke as he glanced around the room, “I wonder if they died out of natural causes or if…”
“Sir!” shouted Lieutenant Xavier urgency, “I think you should see this.” Jack stalked into the next room and as he came in, his eyes filled with wonder and terror at the same time. In the middle of the room there were two large cylinders, each filled with a slimy green liquid. Inside the containers there were two alien creatures. Captain Riles immediately recognized the race of the creatures.
Well. Sorry about the format.. it was messed up by NG. Sry about Double post too.. Heres part two!
“We have to go,” he announced with urgency, “Now!”
“Okay team, double time towards the Valkery,” Jack ordered.
“Sir,” piped the communications unit, “there’s a power device in this room! We’ve checked, and its compatible with our system aboard the Osiris.”
“Okay,” Jack replied grimly, “lets get this power device and leave. Remember, we’re on full alert.” Jack and four other members rushed outside to secure firing positions as the other two members struggled our carrying the alien power device. As they were struggling towards the pieces of the broken down gate, Jack saw something fall off the belt of one of the squad members carrying into the rough sandy soil. When his dark brown eyes focused in on the dark green object, he saw it was a standard military grenade, but the pin had come off.
“Get down!” Jack screamed. Both of the men immediately followed his command and lunged forward into the dry crusty sand, flinging the alien device into the dirt. Just then the hand grenade exploded, sending a thick white smoke and dark dust into the air. The explosion also created a three foot deep circular hole in the dry sand. The immense sound echoed through the long-dead alien city. As the rest of the team picked themselves up, Bill took long, quick strides toward the newly formed hole. Just as he peered over the edge he gasped in unspoken horror and fell backwards. Jack sprinted toward the hole and peeked over the edge. The sight was horrible. Protruding from the center of the hole was a blooded, almost human arm, and Jack could see more body parts lying beneath it. Jack Suddenly peered around the surrounding area quickly and just as he was about to give up, something twitched on the side of a tall circular building.
Jack’s eyes bulged outward as his mind registered what the creature was. He drew his rifle and cocked it as the rest of his squad did the same.
“Aliens!” he yelled, firing a few quick, rapid bursts toward the organic alien creature perched on the side of a building, “back to the ship! Go, go, go!” They would be very lucky indeed if they made it back Jack thought as he and his squad began their retreat towards the Valkery. Jack twisted his head around for one last glimpse as they passed the ruins of the gate, and his blood nearly froze in fear. The entire city was crawling with aliens, aliens he new to be called Tyranids. The deadliest creatures in the galaxy.
--To Be Continued--
Thats all.. Again, the format will probably be messed up. Remember that im not very old...im not even in high school.. :)
And also remember that as a story writer i have a creative liceince...Hence: "Tyranids. The deadliest creatures in the galaxy."
^But thats how i see it...
This has been a Viking Production!
In Association with WarLud.
This is Copytright of Viking Productions!! Yay.
hey everybody, ive seen that no one has said anything about my numa numa 40k idea, but anyway ive started a 40k story, right now its all set in space but it will move to a planet soon enough, people who have read execution hour will see a resemblance to the book, it is where i got part of the inspiration, anyway here is part of the story(apologies for the swearing in the text):
Sons Of Cadia(this is the title, duh)
Prologue
They had been waiting for so long He thought, 10,000 years of waiting for their vengeance, compared to Him they were Ancients, but He was something his Masters haven't seen for a long time. He held power over Billions of people, some of whom did not know of his existence, But many more knew Him and feared him rightly, He felt a disturbing presence, 'Yessss, feed on their fear' he hissed, seemingly to Himself, things, for men was by no means the proper word for them, scuttled about to their tasks. He look into the tac-Holo, glistening in the dark, taking in every aspect of the image, 'Yesss, it will be ours in due time' he crooned 'NAVIGATOR! SET COURSE FOR THYRA IV!NOW!' He screamed across the bridge of His warship ' Aye Sir! Courssse sset for Thyra IV!' hissed the Navigator thing hissed back. The commander sat back into his chair, musing how Thyra IV would fall to Chaos.
12 Days Later, on The Fringes of Thyra sector
The Imperial Navy Cruiser, Swift Retribution, waited, all unnecessary power systems shut down, minimizing the chances of being spotted. Flag-Captain Deimar Valerius sat nervously in his chair. It had been two days since they lost contact with patrol group Omicron6 , something was wrong.' Sir surveyor scans report a contact, energy signals confirmed as the Carnage class cruiser Steed of Chaos' came a shout from the Ship's Officer of Surveyors. Dammit thought Deimar, The Steed of Death always preceded an Invasion fleet.' Bring all power to a minimum, I want to lure that bastard in as close as possible. Mr Vleck, Ready torpedoes one through six, I want to give that bastard Grear a little welcome gift from the good People of the Thyra system . Hold all power to the weapon systems, divert the rest to maneuvering and keep it there in reserve.' Commanded Deimar, His voice full of his natural pre-battle humour. 'Aye sir, Torpedoes one through six in the tube' replied Markus Vlek, The Ship's master of Ordnance. The prow of the chaos ship came into sight as it drifted slowly into the Retribution's line of fire 'Prepare to fire on my Mark' Barked Deimar in standard Navy fashion. The middle of the Chaos ship was directly in front of them. 'Fire!', Bursts of light erupted from the Prow of the Retribution as the Thirty metre long torpedoes tore across open void.
'Sir! We have torpedoes right across our Port stern! 5 Kilometres and closing!' Screamed one of the Steed's crew things. The ship's captain snarled, 'Void shields to full, prepare to sig...' The captain's commands were abruptly cut off as the first two of the six torpedoes impacted across the Port side of the Steed, cutting through the barely raised Void shields. Four more explosions rang out as the torpedoes impacted against the hull of the Ship. Thanta Grear shook his head as he recovered from the blasts.' ...signal the fleet, inform Commander Thurius we have some sport.' barked Timar Helkaas, Grear's Flag-Lieutenant in apprehension of the commands his Captain was about to complete.' We can't Sir, one of the torpedoes took out the communication arrays' replied a crew-thing as Grear roared in fury, 'perhaps a boarding party' suggested Helkaas 'Yes, Master Khorne would be pleased, Prepare boarding parties.'
'Captain! The enemy ship is launching boarding a party!; Shouted one of the Command Crew. 'Helm, swivel around, bring our port batteries to bear, Mr Vlek ready Portside Lance batteries and scramble some Interceptors, Commissar Yearis, gather some men and prepare to repel boarders, you too Mr Velkan, and someone alert Thyra IV command and the fleet, I don't want to have my ship blown to some Emperor-begotten hell for nothing.' ordered Deimar as Flag-Lieutenant Hark Velkan and Ship's Commissar Yearis Strode off the bridge accompanied by Petty Officers and Shot-cannon wielding armsmen .
this is the second section of what i have done so far in sons of cadia.
Down below on the flight bay, Squadron commander and Pilot Ernst Raman surveyed the scene through the cockpit of his Fury Interceptor as his squad of Fury Pilots readied themselves for combat. 'Fendar, stat report.' asked Raman.' Report all Furies ready and waiting. We're waiting for launch permission from the bridge.' replied Tech-priest Fendar.' All crews, roll call.' announced Raman over the vox. 'Scythe 2, all systems check.', 'Scythe 3 set to go.', 'Scythe 4 ready.', 'Scythe 5, ready to die', 'Scythe 6, all systems check and standing by for take off.', 'Scythe 7, missiles already locked Sir.', 'Scythe 8, Itching to Kill.', 'Scythe 9, can't wait to kill some chaos scum.' , 'Scythe 10, waiting for takeoff.' came the responses of the Fury Pilots.' This is Scythe squadron to bridge, all pilots ready for takeoff, requesting permission for flight.' requested Raman over his Fury's vox.' Scythe squadron, this is Bridge, You are cleared for flight. Good Hunting Scythe Squadron.' Came Markus Vlek's reply. ' All right boys lets make some void-junk!' Shouted Raman over his vox. The Flight bay cleared as the Fury's thrusters fired up, a millisecond later, ten Fury's roared out of one of the many flight bays which dotted the hull of the Retribution, straight into the flight path of the boarding craft.' Scythe squadron, maintain current course and speed, arm missiles and pick a target. Make every shot count.' The two clusters of ships rushed towards each other. In each of the Fury cockpits, a rune flashed on the screen, a proximity alert, 6 kilometres apart. 'Wait for it.' commanded Raman over the vox.4 kilometres, 'Wait for it.' 2 kilometres. 'Almost there.' 0.5 kilometres, red warning runes lit up on the pilots' screens, impact imminent. 'Fire!' 20 missiles roared off from the Fury wings. ' WOOHOO!!' screamed Scythe 10 in joy as the Furies soared over their targets. 'Shut it Krell, job's not over yet.' snarled Jalus or Scythe 7.' Come on! That was amazing!' retorted Krell, newest addition to Scythe Squadron.' Yeah lighten up Jalus, this mission will be over in under 5 minutes.' added Scythe 4, or Etha, the Retribution's only female crew member. 'Quiet, I've found an anomaly in the boarding ship formation. What the... SWIFTDEATHS! ALL FURIES BREAK FORMATION AND ENGAGE!', 'Guess I was wrong.' Etha said to herself as she jinked her fighter around to face the new threat. The Chaos SwiftDeath Formation tore out of their hiding positions underneath the boarding ships and raced towards the Furies.
Fear, thought Yelar Methek in his SwiftDeath, wires feeding into his eye sockets, one of the False-Emperor's dogs is afraid, Methek smiled savagely to himself, ever since he pledged His allegiance to chaos he slowly became one with his ship, fusing into the Pilot's seat, linking with the ancient machine-mind, feeding off the Promethium fuel, seeing what the SwiftDeath saw. Ever since his kill tally sky-rocketed, everything from Interceptors to small transport ships became his target. He'd get at least 3 more added to his tally at the end of this little fracas. 'All Fighters, hunt them down and leave none alive, toy with them a little, drive fear into their hearts then cull them. GLORY TO CHAOS!' shouted Methek to his wing-ships. Brutal warcries echoed throughout his cockpit as the open vox allowed him to hear his comrades savage agreements.
'Sir we got 15 hot on our tails! They're firing like mad, it won't surprise if I dodged into their line of fire!' Shouted Harken in Scythe 8, the Squadron's fighter ace, Interceptors chased each other, weaving through their squadron-mates, firing as they went. “Hold on Boys, we aren't called Scythe squadron for nothing! Concentrate on the Interceptors, the Ret can handle itself.' assured Raman
this is the third and final section of Sons of Cadia.
The Boarding ships finally came into contact with the Retribution's hull, the demonic teeth attached to the boarding end began to rotate and drill through the metres thick hull. 'Flag-Captain, The boarding ships have made contact, they're drilling through the hull, ETA 6 minutes.' reported one of the Bridge's Surveyor officer. ' Inform the Commissar and Lieutenant, have them ready.' Responded Deimar. Hark Velkan heard the grinding-teeth drills of the boarding ships over the steady hum of the plasma reactors, as he was surrounded by the ship's crew and armsmen bodyguards. Suddenly a massive, blood covered maw shot out of the ship's wall and landed on the floor with a dull thump, which was followed by a massive sac that exploded immediately, showering the navymen with acid, burning them, from the massive cavern that now existed in the ship's hull poured demon-things, falling on the crewmen and catching them unawares, slicing them into ribbons instantly, after them poured a huge wave of deformed beings carrying all manner of brutal close combat weapons that charged into the front-line defenders, Velkan drew his sabre and shouted ' What are you waiting for!? Permission to attack? Come on fight!!' and almost immediately the crew reacted and fought back, the shot-cannons clearing huge swathes of deck from the enemy, Velkan stood among the Armsmen, firing off carefully aimed shots at the boarders with his Las-Pistol, careful not to overload the power cell. It seemed like they might just regain control over the deck until more boarders burst through the hull. Velkan expertly dodged a clumsy attack from a club wielding traitor and returned with a clean slash through his foe's neck, suddenly, several shots rang out to his left, were there used to be large knot of traitors aiming point-blank at him, he turned around and saw his personal bodyguard, Freker Mikrim toting a Heavy Bolter, grinning, Velkan nodded his thanks and ran back to rejoin a vestigial firing line. 'Why the hell aren't we getting backup?' asked Velkan asked a Petty-Officer ' There are just too many boarders, we're spread too thin.' he replied as he fired into a demon-spawn. ' What of the Commissar?' 'He's holding his own sir' the man hesitated to add the word barely to his reply. Velkan tapped Mikrim on the shoulder, the heavily built bodyguard turned his head around in response as he continued to fire indiscriminately into the mass of boarders. 'Clear the deck Freker, before these dammned scum to overwhelm us.' ' Aye sir.' replied Mikrim with a savage glee in his voice. Bringing his cumbersome Heavy Bolter to bear on the enemy he swept his gun left and right, pumping explosive shell after explosive shell into the enemy, reducing boarder after boarder into massive pulped piles of flesh. All of a sudden the bolter clicked empty. Enraged, Mikrim hurled the weighty gun straight into the seething mass of boarders, unslung his secondary weapon, a modified double barreled autogun, perfect for the crowded conditions, and depressed the firing stud, unleashing a hail of bullets, within a minute his gun was devoid of ammunition, as he slammed a fresh mag in, a beast leapt onto him, scything talons attempting to tear him to pieces, the two struggled until Freker drew a large combat knife from his boot and drove it into his attacker's neck, though it still would not die, he twisted the knife and pulled it out, this time ramming it up through the roof of the creature's mouth, killing it instantly, withdrawing the blade, he got up, reached for his gun, continued to fire, and only hoped that they could hold them off.
Diemar surveyed the tac-logis on his cogitator, the enemy had taken two decks and the defenders were being slowly beaten back, however their void shields were holding against the chaos salvoes. 'Sir!, We have more contacts, two full squadrons of Iconoclast destroyers and a cruiser squadron are breaking Warp! Approximately 3 AUs from our current position' Shouted one of the crewmen. Reacting immediately he issued his orders 'Mr Vlek, ready your Starhawks and have the Interceptors give them escort. Helm bring us about on a new course, take us to Thyra IV, someone get me a secure comm-net transmission to the Glorious.'
i used to play 40k i collected space marine blood angels dante was my best model with his jumpack sqaud
Hey i dont know if you guys have seen this or not but games workshop added 2 major new things to there website recently...Catchans and Deathworld Veterans and a new Tyranid minature range(i just looked at the website again today)
Catchans and deathworld veterans
http://us.games-workshop.com/games/40k/catachans/default.htm
I like the style of Catchans...
New Tyranid Minature range
http://us.games-workshop.com/games/40k/tyranids/catalog/default.htm
Those look like they are beasts to fight on the tabel top...
Kid, Catachans have been around for ages, GW merely revised their old Codex and put it online for free as a downloadable PDF file. There haven't been any ground breaking changes from what I've seen though.
Most of us check the GW site (in my case the UK variant) at the very least twice a week, so we know when new content is released. (not to mention the fact that there those things known as newsletters that I subscribe to)
Yesterday I got Dawn OF War and yeah so I installed it and now when i try to play it says
ERROR:SPOOGE DRIVER NOT FOUND. VERIFY IF DIRECT X IS PROPERLY INSTALLED. So then i install direct x and it still doesnt work then i goto the support website. It says that i need the minimum system requirements. I checked it out and then i checked my Hard Drive to see that i have enough disk space and I have enough. So I need someone's help How do you find the minimum requirments what i mean is where do you find the whole list of the things you have like below
1.4xcdrom
2. 2.0 GHz
3. 1.99 GHz
4. 16 bit sound card
5. blah blah blah
6. blah blah blah
7.blah blah blah
8.blah blah blah
and so on
THX that would be a huge help.
Also when i go into the graphics configuration box it shows nothing.
If you had the above problems and solved them please tell me how you did.
At 5/28/05 04:32 AM, Lieutenant_Brookman wrote:
:stuff
Sorry lost most brain power(mostly logic) with that post.Anyway I would like to ask if one of you guys could make me a custom Badge And/Or Bannder for dawn of war?Im sorry to say im no artist and i am tierd of useing the badges and banners that came out of the box.Also i have decided to set aside a half hour foir screenshots(the game lasted that long anyway) and here are the results in High Resolution!
http://photobucket.com/albums/...iew¤t=Marineshot.jpg
http://photobucket.com/albums/...on=view¤t=Flamer.jpg
http://photobucket.com/albums/...ew¤t=Dreadnaught.jpg
http://photobucket.com/albums/...ew¤t=RocketShots.jpg
http://photobucket.com/albums/...ew¤t=PinkDefiler.jpg
http://photobucket.com/albums/...amp;current=OrbitalBombard.jpg
Well thats All from me for now(thanks in advance if you make some badges and/or banners).
talkin bout dawn of war...,.,.
can Australian players watch out for me, my current profile is type 64, and i want low ping battles
is the rumors true, that tau may be in the next installment of dow???????
for the imperial guard, if any one remebers single player properly, in missions you control guard the two weapons upgrades for squads are plasma gun and grenade launcher with a max of 5 per squad..... each die easy and cost 20 req.
Unfortuantly the tau wont be in the new expansion pack only 1 new race has been announced and thats the weak imp guard :p
But the imp guard will have access to the Baneblade tank, and they can have more than 1 at a time.
Sry I forgot to add that they are making a tau mode anyway RasberryCoke so alls not lost :D
At 5/31/05 01:03 PM, xFireflyx wrote: Unfortuantly the tau wont be in the new expansion pack only 1 new race has been announced and thats the weak imp guard :p
Well we just dont know everything about the expansion.It could have a whole lot more than the guys at relic are telling us(or conversly there might not be much extra than what they have told us) so anything within reason is possible.
Yeah prob we can only hope for the best (Tyranids :D )
Gah! Stop repeating old information like some spy going over a dead drop for the thirteenth time. Yes we are table top geeks, but we can keep tabs on DoW info!
Geepers Scooby! What's next? Are they going to tell me that the single player campaign will be featuring both forces of Order and Disorder? Or will they tell me that GW has a website that updates every week!
I'm going to take my pills now and just ignore the situation entirely.
At 5/31/05 04:21 PM, Lieutenant_Brookman wrote:
Gah! Stop repeating old information like some spy going over a dead drop for the thirteenth time. Yes we are table top geeks, but we can keep tabs on DoW info!
I agree. I miss the good old days where people weren't saying stuff like "I can p0wn u n00bs wit my nid o faer l0l!!!!" . I'd like the thank Seedykay, Brookman, Sgt o Brian, for if it wasn't for you guys you wouldn't of made my table top gaming so powerfully awesome. I shouldn't enjoyed this before it happened.
I got Flash, And i'm probably the most infamous (not in a good way) $0k Flash maker
I tried doing some collaboration stuff, But it's hard finding the time. My idea has always been to let everyone work on their own short stories, to package as one big flash collection. As anyone who's tried to work on joint flash projects (Me and Minothor) knows, outside influences usually Feth things over.
Still, glad to help if anyones up to anything!
Some warning, I’ve been trying a new writing style after reading several novels (Both 40k and of more dubious hand, no not Danielle Steel!) and while I refrain from using 20th Century combat slang, I do plan on using some vile language. I’ve noticed that not all Guardsmen are as pious as Gaunt, or as courageous as Schaeffer. This is just my twist on somewhere in that dark universe. Guardsmen just aren’t polite people, they will throw out whatever they think. Or in this case, what I think. You have been warned, so don’t come crying to me about having your young mind polluted by my writings!
Also, I’ve slapped this together in one night and a morning, so it may not be as great and thus far, the reactions have been mixed. I just felt like writing about the Imperial Guard again after so many things about the Inquisition and Mordheim.
And no, the title is not about the people on this board (*insert happy smiley here* - I use Firefox, so no smiles)
Bastards.
What do you get when you send several Imperial Guard regiments on years of combat. Not the kind where you get a break or something like that, but real combat, years of non-stop fighting with just enough breaks to catch up, get a new uniform and some time to reorganize? Not much, I can tell you that. Numbers dwindle down and down, regiments become companies, companies become platoons become squads and those can turn out into one or two survivors. One man or woman on his or her own can’t do much. Sure, fire a couple of shots, but then your wasted. But what do you get when you toss those survivors together into a single snug squad?
Not something pretty, I can tell you that much. I remember reading the old books about them. I’ve seen pict shows on the big screen about them. But I’d never ever dreamed that I would live long enough to become one myself: a Veteran. Well, I’m still pretty young, thirty-two, thanks for not asking, but already I feel like I’ve seen it all before. Nothing fazes me anymore! Tau? I’ve seen them before, lemme at them. Kroot? Keep them at a shooting distance and I can do it! Orks? I’ve seen those before, glad to keep it at that. Traitors? These idiots are just stupid, can’t even get an offensive right!
Yup, I’m the member of a veteran squad, one of these so-called Kill-teams. We get dangerous missions, the ones in which you will most certainly die. But, we get free hand in how we do it and to be honest, some of my actions are shocking in a brutal "the end justifies the means" fashion. Conclusion: I am not a nice person. Nor are the others that are in the squad. We are all bastards. Okay, and bitches.
There used to be twelve of us, we were dubbed the Ditty Dozen or something like that, but as we got down and dirty in these hellish missions, even the die-hards decided to kick the bucket. Five of us remain and we no longer have a colourful nickname. They decided to stop doing that when squad member four died. So we’re just another suicide squad.
Where am I now? A woodland. Nothing too shabby. Not that I enjoy them, tunnels and gloom were always more something for me. But this isn’t a jungle either, so no lethal insects, hostile salads and extreme heat and humidity. We move in single file, Kurt on point, then the big guy, me and closing of the file the woman. I’ll give them formal introductions when I see fit. Our objective is to destroy a hidden communications hub. Briefings have become so boring as they always involve something “hidden”. Resistance would be medium and our backup was ready for anything, even tanks.
Kurt signals a halt with a raised fist, crouching down. We slowly crouch forward, reaching a half lit clearing. Kurt signals a full halt and beckons us to listen. Foot steps, too careless as they step onto noisy crap such as twigs and dried out leafs. “Sentry.” He signals. “Alone.” The big man besides me signals a query. “Want me to kill him?” Kurt nods and the big guy pounces forward, wrapping his meaty arm around the neck while the other twists, a wet crack resounding. He lets the body hang limp and pulls it into the undergrowth, all in less then five seconds and all without as much as a sound. Okay, the snapped neck doesn’t count. I nod to the large man, he smirks at me.
A murderer at work. A shiver runs down my spine. This guy is a friggin’ bruiser, I am not kidding here. He could easily pass as a bouncer or muscle for a gang back on a civilized world, but he isn’t. He’s a big ass Catachan (144th Comp. 3rd Plt. 4th Sqd.) with more muscle then three Cadians put together. Top that off with a sick and sharp mind that calculates and anticipates, well ladies and gents, you get trooper Burt Pringle. Don’t let the name catch you off-guard, cause this is guy is far from being a foppish fairy. Next to being a cold-hearted killer, he’s a good shot with the lasgun he carries and an even better man when it comes to gutting people with his “knife”. I’m using that term loosely as that thing of his resembles a sword more then a knife.
TBC.
We cautiously advance, seeing another sentry, mindlessly wandering with his rifle on his back, a smoke in his mouth and his back towards us. I wouldn’t be too surprised if this guy has I.Q. rating lower then my age. We’re just three meters away from him, he can be dealt with, just not by me. The young woman slithers forward, so quiet, so dead sexy. And then to think I liked her. She’s standing behind the guard and pulls out her knife, then swiftly kicks back of his knee, making the sentry snap backwards. That’s when the grace is removed and the truth is shown, as she wraps her left arm around his neck and drops the knife in her right hand down. Not once, not twice, but a lot of times, making it hard for me to keep count. The blood splatters everywhere, some of it landing in my eyes. I blink furiously, seeing the slender young woman cleaning her knife on the uniform of the slain sentry. Yet she fails to notice the blood on her pretty face and uniform. Stupid bitch! I’d stab her if it wasn’t for those… Eyes. Yeah, her eyes. Ah frag, who am I kidding here! She’s shaped like a friggin’ dancer or smiley-girl, the ones that do things that your mother told you about not to do. No man would shoot at her without looking her up or down at least once, except for those chaos dopes, they are too stupid to appreciate the finer arts of the female body. Blue eyes, nicely shaped figure, medium long blond hair kept up under her beret. Damn you Jill Chambers! Damn you for being from Mortant (327th Comp. 1st Plt. 4th Sqd.) and your sassy looks and taunting behaviour! She’s another one of those murderers at work. Not a nut job, just really fond about ripping open people with her knives, splattering herself in blood. Shit, when did I get enlisted with the crazy people. Right, when I started surviving the worst that I was thrust into.
Who have I forgotten? Oh right, Kurt. Sarge here is an old son of a bitch, he’s really seen it all and laughs at crap that would make others piss their fatigues and cry for the harlot that spawned them. Sergeant Elias Kurt, a Cadian (8753rd Comp. 8th Plt. 1st Sqd.) what you would call, “Tough as nails” NCO. He’s a beacon of sanity in this small team of veterans, the only one (Besides me of course!) who has the brains to do things a hundred percent right. Letting idiots such as Pringle or Chambers run the show and you are in deep shit. He’s always calm, always taking the situation to himself before even thinking about taking action. I like him, he’s my kind of man to lead me into death, destruction and all that dangerous posh. We advance slowly and see a concrete bunker with a single door. The back entrance.
We break cover and run like mad for the bunker. Ragged fire erupts from all around us, throwing up earth close to us. The other sentries decide to open fire and keep the thought of where their slain comrades are for later. As always too close for comfort! I shoulder my shotgun and bang of three shots at a rebel with a flamer, then turn to two others, rattling the other five rounds into them. I slam into the bunker wall and crouch down, instinctively ejecting the top clip from my shotgun and slapping a new one in place. ‘Open this door!’ Kurt barks, firing his shotgun one-handed, banging of a shot, then dropping the gun to grab the grip and pumping a new round, much like the pict screens I’ve seen when I was a kid. In his other hand he holds a laspistol, snapping of shots with practised ease. Flanking me are Pringle and Chambers, having traded in her knives for a more effective laspistol. ‘Open this door already!’ Pringle shouts, feeling really uneasy at being in the open.
I smile and feel a whole lot better. I look at the door, a five centimetre thick steel door with a keypad for entering codes. Unbreakable for the common man! That’s where I come in. I used to serve with the combat engineers of the Mortant, same place as miss knife bitch. I saw combat sure, engineer does not mean that I dig trenches, place guns and issue basic repairs. No, I was, actually still am, a combat engineer. Just one with extra tricks up my sleeve. I pry the keypad away and clamp a device onto the exposed wires, waiting for the machine spirit to open the door. The door hisses open and I can’t help but smiling like a fool. Once again, my gear prevails. We pile in and the door closes, prompting Chambers to shoot the keypad, practically locking us in. No matter, our exit is on the other side, or so I was told by the JO in charge of intelligence.
TBC.
‘Good going there LeCroix.’ Kurt says, reloading his shotgun. I nod and stuff the clamp back into the pack on my belt. John LeCroix, that’s my name. My mother told me I was named after my departed father, but then I’d be called bastard amongst other things, as she never called him John. I activate the lamp pack on my shoulder and take point, flipping a targeter over my left eye with a jerking motion of my head. It blinks into life, showing a nice floor plan of the bunker we are in. If intelligence was correct, and for once it is, then no active sentries would be patrolling these tight halls and we will have a clear route to the comm hub, our objective. After several trailing corridors I see an opening, a doorway without a door, from it emanates the murmur and hubbub of people working. I signal a halt and twist a small fibre optic cable from my pack, connecting it to the targeter. Whatever the end of the cable sees, so do I. I’ve tried it a few times and it’s quite a joy, especially around private areas. I bend it around into the door opening and see comm devices, a bumbling cogboy and quick headcount reveals that there are at least two dozen guards standing watch in that small room. Add to that half a dozen techs that operate the machines. I motion along with my solution to the problem to Kurt who nods in agreement and backs away. We could take them all out in a straight fight, but that would take forever, especially with them being in good cover. And I hate honest fights when we are outnumbered. I unsling my backpack and rip a cord with an orange tag off. ‘Demo is armed, fire in the hole.’ I say calmly, flinging the backpack into the comms room. Were I younger and greener, I’d never carry a demolition charge on my back like a juve would do with a scholam bag, the ones powerful enough to rip a hole in a tank, but now? I must’ve lost my common sense long ago when I started surviving these battles. ‘Hey, what the-’ Is all I hear as I open my mouth and cover my ears, the loud explosion on the enclosed space making my lungs bang and my ears ring. That was easy.
‘Okay, let’s get out of here.’ Kurt grunts, pointing at a steel door barring us from the outside world. I unsling a compact plasma torch and dart towards the door on the other side. With the comm hub taken out, it will be pretty hard to get a machine spirit to open it. I close my right eye and start torching the edges of the door, the plasma beam having no problem with five centimetre thick steel. ‘Pringle, if you would be so kind as to open this door.’ I’ve tried kicking one myself once, let’s just say that my foot sometimes still acts up from that crap. Pringle pushes me aside with a snarl and rams his shoulder into the door, banging it out. We are welcomed as always. As usual, the enemy opens fire at the open door, having not a virtue such as patience. We pile out, guns blazing and dive behind ample cover in form of defensive sandbag walls. The door opening behind us is pulped by heavy calibre fire as several heavy weapons boom over the pathetic cracks and snaps of the rebel weapons.
I take a quick glance to spot the source of the massive fire power. Tank. Big one. Leman Russ. Exterminator variant. Lucius pattern. Two autocannons, three heavy bolters, a cupola-mounted stubber and a grinning commander. Always a tanker with the grinning! And it’s front that’s facing our way. Screw it, we’re pinned down and our only way is past that thing. I drop down and eject my spent clip, reaching for a new one. ‘Sure is big.’ Pringle comments, his mind most likely already thinking of a way into that thing. Well, all we can do is wait. What? Do you expect me to fire my shotgun at it! Then the tank exploded. It exploded and I didn’t do it. I peer over the edge of my cover and look, dropping down with relief. ‘Sarge, our support has arrived!’ I call out, slapping a new clip on top of my shotgun. All we need to do now is clear an LZ and wait. I look up and see a black shape hovering. I chuckle as I see the familiar shape of our retrieval Valkyrie close in.
If there’s one thing you learn that is the key to surviving this long, it’s not to take on impossible odds unless there is not other way. I’m not one to charge a tank, even if I still had my demo charge, I’d have to get past three heavy bolters, climb onto the flank and somehow pry that hatch open. Oh, never mind the fact that tanks have supporting infantry. Kurt rises from cover and thunders forward, his shotgun booming with each step. He wants a safe LZ ready for our retrieval. He’s followed by Pringle and Chambers, also firing their weapons. I’m not one for the classic ‘no-guts, no-glory’ charges, I’ve seen plenty and barely survived those. So I shoulder my shotgun and provide covering fire, snapping of semi-auto shots as the others cross the distance. Once those three hit the line, hell’s breaking loose. As I said before, murderers at work, scary shit.
And hit hard they did, the remaining rebels didn’t stand a chance against a beefy Catachan with a big-ass knife, a foxy bitch with two knives and a pumped sergeant with an attitude that makes senior officers cry. The rebels, more then two dozen, were cut down and to pieces as they tried to hold their ground. I decided not to watch, I don’t like to see people being either bashed to death or being cut in places where it takes minutes before you are drained. As the last rebel was cut up with an agonizing scream of pain, I decided to call in our retrieval. I pull micro bead from my collar and adjust it, setting it to ‘send’ as a beacon for the bird to lock in to.
TBC.
The Valkyrie circles around before landing, slowly, clearly a sitting duck in these open skies. I stopped worrying about that bucket being shot down long ago. Twice more did the heavy gun fire, followed by two explosions, most likely some bunker or tank that’s far off. Then it touched down, it’s massive gun cranked back inside again and we embarked, greeted by our fifth member. William ‘Bill’ Manning, wearing a black body glove with padded and flak armour from Armageddon, Elysian or something, I never really could remember. He’s our sniper and operates the rifle (Technically speaking, it’s more like a stripped down battle cannon with smaller munitions, but it’s still classified as a sniper rifle.) that’s installed in the hull of this Valkyrie. I sit down heavily, dropping my shotgun with a clank onto the deck and accept a cigarette from Manning, allowing him to light it. I slowly exhale, feeling empty. I feel like shit, feeling old for some stupid reason. I look down the ramp and see a wounded trooper clawing himself a way towards us. ‘A survivor, sloppy guys.’ I reply as I get up and pull a heavy auto pistol from my belt, pulling the receiver backwards in a fluid motion. ‘P-p-p-p-please…’ He stammered, reaching out with a blooded hand. ‘A-a-a medic.’ I spit the smoke away and kick him hard, turning him over onto his back. ‘Very funny.’ I reply, seeing him cry. ‘No! I beg of you!’ I aim and shoot him, a nice vent hole in his forehead and his brains out through the exit wound onto the concrete slab. I spin the gun in my hand around for a bit before dropping it back into the holster, stepping back into the Valkyrie. Not even looking back. I drop back into my seat and the Valkyrie takes off, flying us back to base.
Yup, real friggin’ bastards, each and every one of us.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Also, for the people who don't bother to read a large amount of text because they either lack the cognitive power or the will to read (ignorant little blighters that you are!), I ahve some entertaining images for you. Because even the stupid need to laugh sometimes.
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/40crap01.gif
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/40kpage2.gif
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/40kpage03.gif
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/slutpatrol4.gif
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/slutpatrol05.gif
http://pump.poorlydone.com/albums/crappy40kcomic/slutpatrol6.gif
As for a disclaimer: IT'S A BLOODY PARODY SO THE FIRST WANKER THAT COMPLAINS ABOUT THE HUMOUR CAN GET CANCER AND ROT IN AGONY! Sorry for the terse reply, but a headache and other events are making me snappish at times.
Enjoy.
At 6/2/05 09:58 AM, Lieutenant_Brookman wrote: Multipost story followed by links to a comic...
Pretty good story there man.Also what site did those comics come from?
i was shocled when i saw this topic! i am a huuuge warhammer40k fan!! i have about 3 armies, my bigest one is chaos space marines>chaos undivided>the black legion>all under the comand of the great abadon the despoiler! i would love to be in this club, although i have no flash skills, i am very very knowledgeable about warhammer, have an enourmous ammoun of information for any questions ppl might have, because i have been in the game for years and years, i am also a great painter and call take pictures of my work for you to work with possibly, please consider me
also, i have many codexes and two of the warhammer 40k rule books, and i forgot to say in the last post, yes, i do know how to play, very well
and my newest army is a darkangel deathwong army, "repent! for tommorrow you die!"- battle cry of the dark angels
lmao....deathwong
haha picture that
ahh yes, the deathwong army, all the deathwong minions have a characteristics of the following:
ws:5 bs:5 s:10 t: 10 w:1,000,000 i:10 a:10 ld:0 sv:0+
special rules: all deathwongs have deepstrike, infiltration,and are fearless.
the wongs of death pwn! ha!
YES! You are in, now calm the smeg down, please.
First off, anybody is free to join and just because this thread is on a flash site does not mean that we know next to nothing about 40k.
Second, do not post any rules here, which is a breach of GW copyright laws.
Now, calm down and enjoy your stay.
Lt. Brookman, do you have any more space marine sprites? ive started project rhino and i think i could make some blood angels(ill also need some BA Symbols 'cos im pathetic at drawing stuff). Itll be good once a 40k sprite movie comes out.
