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[ERROR] No.20348378 [DELETED]  [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

"So den, we'z krumped 'em good!"

"Yes. I know. The esteemed Overlord Yrendrikh knows as well. I have relayed this exact statement to him in Necrontyr seven hundred and fifty times now. You do not need to repeat it."


Lord Narmoren shook his head, attempting to sigh. No sound emerged. An almost reflexive action, a memory from when he was alive, now useless and ineffective.

"While the tales of your, erm... conquests... are certainly riveting, Lord Hagdakka --"


"Yes, 'Boss' Gakhamma, His Magnificent Lordship Yrendrikh wishes to discuss more... philosophical matters."

"I'z da smartest Ork in the WAAAGH, so I'z da wun youze want!" grinned the Ork.

"That... was my understanding," lied Narmoren. "His Lordship has a question about the concept of 'dakka'."


"Yes, but he wishes to know what you do when you cannot add more dakka."


"What do you do when you cannot add more dakka?"

"...I don' get it."

>> No.20348409

"When you have added all the dakka you can, what do you do?"


"No, you have added all you can. You have no more dakka to add."

"MORE DAKKA!" bellowed the Ork, clearly excited at the prospect.

"No, you cannot add more dakka."

"...I still don' get it."

"Obviously," replied Narmoren, turning to Yrendrikh to translate the exchange. Yrendrikh was clearly not pleased, but did not press the issue. Narmeron's gratitude at this was very nearly a tangible thing.

"His Esteemed Lordship has no more questions. Report in tomorrow morning, at dawn. Try to be quiet. We do not want the eldar to know we are here."

An enormous explosion billowed up from the Ork camp in the distance, quickly putting an end to that dream. The warboss looked out at it, and began whooping and cheering at the destruction. Narmoren tried, in vain, to sigh again.

>> No.20348542

"So you see, the Emperor is no more than a corpse, worshipped by our blinded brethren. We are trying to open their eyes to this fact."

"I see," replied Lord Akhentomen.

"Your help in this battle will be greatly rewarded, I assure you. I will see to it that you get your cut of the conquered territory," said the Sorcerer Lord.

"The Nemesor will be pleased to hear that."

"Your leader, this 'Nemesor', intrigues me. Why have I yet to meet him?"

Akhentomen stopped walking for a moment, halting in the middle of the Thousand Sons encampment. Around him, he saw animated suits of armor, standing stockstill, waiting to be called into action. There were no tents. It was more like an animal pen. Or a garden full of statues.

"The exalted Nemesor Zahndrekh is...off-putting, for some. Friendly, even to ones such as yourself, but his manner tends to be confusing, even to his own servants."

>> No.20348623

"How do mean?" asked the Sorcerer.

"The Nemesor is... eccentric. A brilliant tactician, perfectly deserving of his place at the head of the glorious Gidrim Dynasty, a prized weapon in the hands of the wise and powerful Phaeron Imotekh, Stomlord of the Sautekh Dynasty (may his name and greatness endure forever), but..."


"I tell you this in the strictest confidence. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will see to it that the Gidrim Dynasty annihilates you, and everyone who looks like you, and everyone who looks like everyone who looks like you."

"The only thing Tzeentch loves more than secrets is keeping them."

"...he thinks you are Necrontyr."


"He thinks EVERYONE is Necrontyr. Even the Necrons. He is unaware of the biotransference. Or the differences between our species. To him, you are a long-lost brother from a different dynasty, allied in our struggle. To him, our enemies are rival dynasties, trying to take our territory. To him, eating and drinking are still possible."

"...you are led by a madman."

"We are led by the madman and his sane bodyguard."

"Ah, that is why he prizes his Vargard so highly."

"Indeed. Obyron amends his orders to fit reality. It is Obyron who sees to it that the needs of the Necrons are met. The Necrontyr...the Necrontyr are no more."

"Perhaps Obyron should rule."

"He does not wish to. His loyalty is too great."

"He is a fool for not seizing power when it is within his grasp."

Akhentomen looked into the Sorcerer Lord's eyes with a nearly unmatched fury.

"Your opinion is not required. Only your assistance. We strike your 'brethren' tonight. Be ready."

"Of course."

>> No.20348782

Freakin love your writes good sir.
Don't stop.

By the way, you don't mind if I try out my first attempt at writing here do you?
Rather than add another thread.
Easier as I appear to be unable to post new threads.

>> No.20348821

As Akhentomen prepared to leave, a thought struck him. He turned back to the Sorcerer Lord.

"I have heard tell of daemons and gods at your disposal. Disregarding the the foolishness of such superstitions..."

He sensed that the Sorcerer was extremely displeased at this statement, but the Sorcerer was not prepared to jeopardize an already fragile alliance when there was so much to gain. Akhentomen finished his question.

"...why have I seen no evidence of their involvement in this matter?

The Sorcerer stepped closer, with a strangely conspiratorial air to him. Akhentomen could not see the expression he wore under his helmet, but he imagined it was a nervous one.

"...they despise you."


"You are anathema."


The Sorcerer paused for a moment, clearly seeking the correct words. Akhentomen waited, patiently.

"You know of the Warp, yes?"

"Of course."

"The Dark Gods live within it."

"So you have said."

"The Warp is composed of all the emotions of every race with any psychic potential. Any at all. Every living race."

"And? What is the problem?"

"Every LIVING race," the Sorcerer replied, emphasizing the operative adjective.


>> No.20348841

"They cannot feed on your emotions. They cannot grant you their gifts. They cannot benefit from your service. You are purely material, completely detached from the Immaterium. You are blank, null, untouchable. I risk Tzeentch's displeasure by even forming this alliance with you."

"Yet you pursue it nonetheless."

The Sorcerer shifted uncomfortably, as if he was not sure if he could speak truthfully. He glanced upwards, into thin air. Akhentomen suspected he was looking to his gods.

"Tzeentch is capricious. When he sees how we have benefited from this alliance, he will be pleased."

"If he is so capricious, you cannot know that."

The Sorcerer did not respond. He seemed very disturbed by this though. He turned away. Akhentomen left, to bring his news to Obyron.



Perfectly acceptable. I see no reason not to be inclusive in a story thread.

I'll be hitting all of the Necron allies of convenience. If you want to try an alliance story like these, feel free to try one of the other alliances. Or your own take on an alliance of convenience. Or whatever you want, really, it doesn't matter.

>> No.20348971

Trazyn looked at the alien with a smirk. At least, he thought he was trying to smirk. Necrodermis made it so hard to emote.

"So, we have a deal?"

"Of course. Anyone willing to fight for the Greater Good is our friend, and crushing these invaders serves the Greater Good. Why would you question it?"

"I just want to be certain. Caution never goes astray."

"Put your mind at ease," the Ethereal said. "We fight together, for the good of the T'au Empire!"

Trazyn nodded, barely paying attention. The ancient jewels of the barial people of the planet Xenthon VI would soon be all his.

"Perhaps we can interest you in a more permanent arrangement, Trazyn of Solemnace? Your willingness to serve the Greater Good is commendable. We wish to commend it further in the future."

Trazyn snapped back to the present.

"That's PHAERON Trazyn. And no thank you. That is not in the best interests of the Solemnace Dynasty at this time."

"Fair enough. The offer will still stand, any time you wish to accept it."

>> No.20348991

Thanks man, it's just a short based on a stupid idea, sadly not directly 40k related.


It was comforting to say the least, to have the knowledge to recognise what had happened. And that was perfectly fine he decided, nobody was around to bother him. It was just him, alone, in his serene, beautiful field.

Well, it was someones field. He had no idea where, or even who he was anymore, not that it mattered, he thought, staring lazily at the lone cloud above him.

He didn't have long left anyway, because, as nature intended, all life should pass.


>> No.20348995

"Yes, yes, I know. Be ready to move on my signal. Make sure you strike the right location. I assure you, hitting this place will break the invaders and send them scurrying from the system."

It was a lie. Of course it was. The Tau would invade, give Trazyn cover to retrieve the relics, and then he would leave them to the aliens' mercy. Not that the extragalactic monsters understood the concept of mercy.

"We will be there. You can be sure of it. Fight with honor."

"I never fight any other way," Trazyn replied. He thought about how to end the conversation. Realizing he did not know the traditional Tau farewell, he settled on his favorite, a human term, pulled from archives recovered on several conquered worlds.



The viewscreen went blank.

>> No.20349036

You know you have 1500 characters to play with per post, right? That's WAY too short. Get it together.

>> No.20349075


Accidentally let my name and trip slip off here. Sorry.

For more of my work, see:



Because plugging yourself in a post in a thread you are running is the classiest way to plug yourself, amirite?

Grey Knights story incoming. Gimme a few minutes to enjoy the last few ashes in my pipe and take a few more sips of scotch, and I'll get it moving. Basic idea is in place, I just need to decide who the Necron will be.

>> No.20349187


>> No.20349215

I know, mind's acting up.
Sorry bout slowness, accidently screwed up.


No, he thought, that isn't right, after all, he isn't technically alive, is he?

It doesn't matter, as, to be fair. The fact that he can still notice that there is a difference is good enough as a significant part of his brain is not functioning, why should he care about semantics?

So he lay alone, quietly, in some serene, beautiful field probably halfway across the country, his body slowly shutting down.

He would end peacefully at least, he thought, gazing longingly at the sole white cloud above him. And everything was fine.

For it was his cloud, and he was it's zombie.


>> No.20349361


But he's the Han Solo of Necrons when I write him. I can't see the GK allying with him.

Besides, Anrakyr mainly goes from Tomb World to Tomb World, trying to get replenish his army. He is the Traveller after all.

>> No.20349415

Orikan or Szeras. All obsessed with technology and superiority. Orikan sees the future too, so that's pretty dandy. I can't see an overlord wanting to associate with that many psykers.

Also, can anyone think of a name for an Overlord who's obsessed with appearance? I figure that as my armies always look more intimidating than they actually are and everything is either weathered bronze or gold/silver mixes, it fits. I'm totally stuck for ideas.

>> No.20349469


Orikan and Szeras are Crypteks. They serve existing Overlords directly. Orikan works for Imotekh. Szeras works with Anrakyr a lot. I think he might actually work FOR Anrakyr, but it's unclear.

I'm trying to invent an OC. Give me a bit, and then I'll get started.

>> No.20349548

"We shall smite the heretics together!"

"Of course."

"For the glory of the Imperium!"

"Naturally," Phornekhan said.

The Overlord of the small, yet substantial Hanekhim Dynasty attempted to stifle a yawn that he quickly realized would never come.

It had been so easy to get the Inquisitor playing into his hands. A single word, "Chaos", and the small man's attention was his for the taking.

"You will be allowed to leave the battleground in peace when we are done."

"We will not exercise that right."


A snag. This was unforeseen.

"We will not leave."

"You must. The Emperor demands it."

"This is our conquest. This planet will be ours. We will take it. You will be allowed to leave in peace."

The Inquisitor was visibly angered by this suggestion. Phornekan noted this for future reference.

>> No.20349592

"YOU will leave. WE will take the world. DO NOT QUESTION THE WILL OF THE EMPEROR, FOUL XENOS!"

"If it is his will, he can fight for it himself."

"He will not! The Ordo Malleus will do so for him!"

"Then the Ordo Malleus will be destroyed."

"YOU will be destroyed!"

This was only getting worse. Phornekhan had hoped his threats would be sufficient. Evidently, they would not. Perhaps a gentler touch was needed here.

"One moment, please."

Phornekhan called his Lords to the bridge for advice.

"Actually, I will call you back in a moment. I must confer with my advisors."

"I pray they show you reason, heretic!"

>> No.20349661

The council convened. It discussed. And it gave its opinion.

Phornekhan re-opened the transmission.

"We will take only equipment and artefacts we find on the battlefield after looting the dead, these Chaos Space Marines. You will be allowed to take the world."

"It is good to see that you have finally bowed to the will of the Emperor! I had feared we would have to destroy you now and fight alone!"


Phornekhan considered this. It meant that this battle would not be the end of the war, though the Inquisitor would be allowed to think it had. After taking the world once, the Necrons would be forced to take it again, albeit from less substantially entrenched forces.

Of course, the artefacts they took from the fallen foe could easily make the second battle entirely one-sided. On top of that, it wasn't like Phornekhan had any interest in protecting his "allies" during the battle, and the Inquisitor had made his disdain for the Necrons perfectly clear already.

"We march for the Ecclesiarchy!"

"Yes. It is as you say."

"May the Emperor tolerate your continued existence, xenos."

The transmission cut out. Phornekhan barely noticed the Inquisitor's rudeness. He was too busy planning the Inquisitor's inevitable downfall.

>> No.20349762

As awesome as these are, I'd still prefer oldcrons. Honestly, you could write similarly amusing tales about other unlikely allies that AREN'T Necron. Pretty much as long as it doesn't involve an Imperium race it'll be a good write.

>> No.20349770

Okay, I think that's all I've got for tonight.

In fact, that's all I've really got for the foreseeable future. I really like doing this, and I'd like to do it more, but I've exhausted most of my ideas.

I do have one idea left though: accepting suggestions. Not requests. Suggestions. Suggest a 40k story you'd like to see me write in a future writefag thread!


1) I don't do romances. Bromances/sismances(?) yes, but true romances no. I'm terrible at writing them, I don't like shipping, any romance story ideas will be ignored.

2) Keep it 40k. While I enjoy a great many /tg/-related properties, I don't feel comfortable enough with any but 40k to writefag for them. Non-40k suggestions will be ignored. This includes 40k spinoffs like Warhammer High: I want to stick to stuff that could conceivably fit in the 40k universe proper.

3) These are suggestions, not requests. Writing is not drawing. I reserve the right to ignore any suggestion that I don't think I can write well at my discretion. It doesn't mean the suggestion is bad. It just means I don't think I can do it.

I am going to go to bed now, as I am in Germany and I have to get up in about six hours. I will check the thread again when I wake up. I'll see what suggestions grab me and start brainstorming.

What is likely to get your request accepted:

I tend to stick to short tales, with a bit of a slice-of-(un)life feel to them. Keep it down to something that can be churned out in 1-5 posts. I'll extend it if I feel like it.

My favorite factions to write are necrons and orks, though I also have a massive boner for space marine dreadnoughts, inspired by the Horus Heresy novels I've read so far. If it doesn't involve necrons at some level, I'm probably not going to touch it (I'm a necrons player, they're my favorite faction, so yeah).

My favorite Chaos god is Tzeentch, with Khorne in a close second.

>> No.20349842

You could write the one-sided bromance between the obsessive Blood Angels and the necron who reluctantly puts up with them due to their usefulness. Or maybe some kind of meetup between that Necron pirate and the Freebooterz. Not the best ideas, I know, but I just love the way you write necrons.

>> No.20349852

Especially Orks.
Gorgutz was genius.

>> No.20350799


How about some 'Cronz fighting the Eldar to a stalemate in some urban territory? Then, a separated Triarch or Lychguard tries to find his way back and finds a human child. A Howling Banshee strikes at them, but the Lychguard defends the child because... well, that's where the story revolves. Why did he do it? Or, the Howling Banshee? Maybe she could kill them both, but why was she holding back? Was she even holding back?

>> No.20351071

> Was she even holding back?
Doubtful, a lychguard is several weight classes out of her league, especially if he has a dispersion shield.

They are equally skilled in combat but the lychguard is so durable her speed doesn't count for much while he snaps her in half like a twig.

>> No.20351186

>Why did he do it?
Pariah gene. Little babby humie gonna get Borg'd.

>> No.20353877


I already wrote the Blood Angels/Necron story in a previous thread. See my little collection of short stories about Necron HQ choices. I did a story about the Silent King teaming up with the Blood Angels to fight the Tyranids. It was an alliance that lasted for exactly one battle.

In Waiting For Godot: 40k Edition, I mentioned that the commander in question was executed for not continuing to fight the necrons when the tyranids were dealt with.

I'd kind of like to keep my works compatible with one another. Akhentomen's appearance in this thread is supposed to happen before Waiting For Godot.

>> No.20354350

Well shit, now I actually do have an idea.

I'm thinking about Waiting For Godot prequels starring Akhentomen, detailing a more extensive relationship with the Thousand Sons unit mentioned here, and its Sorcerer Lord. Necrons and Chaos working together cordially, but never trusting each other.

>> No.20357167


Would this actually be received well, or is it just stupid?

>> No.20357507

Sounds great imho.

>> No.20359177


Well, given that this thread is apparently still alive, by some insane miracle, I might as well start said story here. Give me a few minutes to think of the beginning. I've already got ideas for the middle and stuff. I'm not expecting it to be as long as Waiting For Godot: 40k, but it'll have some length to it.

>> No.20359317

The battle had gone wonderfully. With the Thousand Sons at their side and Zahndrekh's brilliant leadership at their front, the Gidrim Dynasty had driven the Space Wolves from the Helridor fields of Jenthor III. A few more battles like that one, and Jenthor III would be firmly within Gidrim space.

So why did Akhentomen feel so tense?

"The human sorcerer, Malgus, was of great service to us, Akhentomen."

"Yes, Vargard. He was."

"His strange magicks can do things our Crypteks cannot replicate."

"This is true as well."

"The Nemesor wants that power on our side."

"Impossible. Necrons have no presence in the warp, no psyker potential. The sorcerer told me as much."

"You do not understand. He does not want power LIKE that. He wants THAT power."

"...wait, you mean...?"

Obyron nodded.

>> No.20359452

"If he wants it so badly, he can get it himself."

"You know perfectly well that is not an option."

"Then you can do it."

"I don't have to. I can make you do it."

"Not if I refuse."

"Am I to understand that you are disobeying a direct order from your superiors?" said Obyron, his voice becoming a soft mechanical growl more threatening than any shout. His warscythe glinted menacingly in the moonlight of the camp.


"Good. It would be unfortunate if I had to appoint a new Lord to the Royal Court and explain why his predecessor is the legless jester. See to it that these 'Thal-Zend Szunz' are on our side for the rest of the campaign."

"I will."

"Excellent. We are moving to take what the humans call Foren's Pass in two days. Relay the situation to our new 'allies'."

"Yes, sir."

"And Akhentomen?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't think you can get out of this by enraging the sorcerer into an uprising. I will know, and I will hold you responsible if this alliance falls through."

"...yes, Vargard."

>> No.20359626

I like that!

>> No.20359970



"These Luna Wolves--"

"SPACE Wolves," Malgus corrected.

"Space Wolves. You have no love for these Space Wolves, correct?"

Akhentomen was glad he could not see Malgus's face under the helmet. The sorcerer's arms trembled at his sides, and a strange sputtering noise emerged from the helmet. When the sorcerer spoke again, he was screaming, as foam and spittle flew forth from the open T-shaped visor from the helmet.


The Sorcerer cut off, cursing indistinctly. When he spoke again, his spit had taken on a reddish hue and his speech had taken on a slight lisp. Akhentomen concluded with amusement that he had bitten his tongue by accident.


"Then you would not be adverse to continuing our alliance against them, I take it?"

"The very idea that I would not ith inthulting."

"Excellent. We strike Foren's Pass in two days. Can we count on your support?"

"We will be counting the--AAARGH!"

>> No.20359983

>"His strange magicks can do things our Crypteks cannot replicate."

You know nothing of SCIENCE!!!!

>> No.20359988

Akhentomen stepped back. The sorcerer had stopped trembling with rage, but was evidently being taken with some sort of seizure. Of course, this had to happen now, right after Obyron's threat. Of course the alliance had to collapse before it had begun. Why did this always happen to him?

"Are you all right?"

The sorcerer fell to the ground, coughing and gagging, as though choking on something. After several long and awkward minutes of this, his breathing settled down, and he got to his feet again.

"The Changer of Ways has ssssssssssssseen fit to grant me a new tongue, to replacccccccccce what was damaged. Truly, Tzeentch's generossssssssity is unmatched."

A triple-forked fleshy protusion flicked in and out of the depths of the helmet as the sorcerer spoke. Akhentomen did his best to hide his revulsion.

"Do we have your aid?"

"Of coursssssssse."

"Good. The Nemesor will be most pleased by this news. I will take my leave. Ready your troops."

"Until we meet again," replied the sorcerer, his tongue sensously caressing the edges of the helmet as it explored its new home with a mind of its own.

>> No.20360036


Orikan can time travel and hulk out, but can he summon daemons and mutate a bitch? I think not.

Sorry my name and trip keep slipping. I duck out to post in other threads occasionally, and I want to keep this name/trip combo associated with my writefagging, so that any stupid shit I do on /tg/ doesn't follow me into these.

>> No.20360063

>Orikan can time travel and hulk out, but can he summon daemons and mutate a bitch? I think not.

Correction, he can time travel and turn into a mini c'tan meaning he can do whatever the hell he damn well pleases.

>> No.20360218

I'm going to let the thread idle temporarily while I brainstorm some more (read: puff my pipe, sip scotch, and wipe sweat off my face in the unreasonably warm Hamburg evening). Be back shortly.

Until then, thoughts on the Thousand Sons alliance story? Feedback is appreciated, and I welcome your comments and interjections.

>> No.20360400

Chaos Necrons

>> No.20360450

Freie Hansestadt Hamburg! Wuuu!

>> No.20360621

Character idea: Necron Lord obsessed with cooking and food, even though he cannot eat. He keeps chefs and takes captives specifically to -force- them to eat his latest creations.

Sometimes these meals are delightful evenings of fine cuisine and (forced) conversation. Sometimes his idea of cuisine is horrific to the extreme (human veal). All end with the guests eventual death. Sometimes from being forced to overeat, sometimes he kills them outright because they criticize (or don't criticize) his food. Sometimes the food itself is highly toxic and poisonous to living beings.

And sometimes, once in a blue moon, the guests survive and are dropped off on some random spot with a hell of a story.

>> No.20360637


Bonus points if based off the Chairman from Iron Chef (and his Immortals are based off the Iron Chefs themselves)

>> No.20360830


This idea pleases me. Expect it in a future thread.

>> No.20360908

I can just imagine a Necron lord, sipping broth that spills pointlessly down his ribcage and nattering away to some poor kidnapped fortune teller in a millenia old gown he set her up with, while she tries to mask her growing horror as one guest goes into apoplectic shock from the poison in his fugu and another guest struggles against his restraints as Cryptek Spyders forcefeed him until his stomach actually bursts hannibal lector style.

The Necron lord meanwhile is discussing the many ways to cook space pheasant

>> No.20360965

The battle of Foren's Pass had gone even better than the battle of Helridor Fields. Not a single Necron phased out. Not one Canoptek Wraith or Spyder fell. The Necrons had not suffered one meaningful casualty in the entire fight.

As near as Akhentomen could tell, the Thousand Sons had taken no real casualties either. He had gotten a close look at one of their fallen, and there was no body. There was only a pile of dust, and a scattered suit of armor.

When he spoke to the Sorcerer, however, the story was quite different.

"Three entire ssssssssssssquadssssssssssss of my brothers, wiped out, and you made no effort to come to our aid!" hissed Malgus, around his writhing tongue. I thought you ssssssssssaid we were in thissssssssssssssss together!"

"We are. No organic casualties were sustained. The magical adepts of both squads are standing directly behind you."

"THAT ISN'T THE POINT! I mean the marinesssssssssss that fell in that battle! The brothers that will never -- CAN never -- be replacccccccccccccced!"

"They were dust to begin with. With your powers, surely you can make more."

>> No.20360971

i very much love these stories, i am thinking of incorporating these into a black crusade game as, quite frankly, i love ulterior motives and the idea necron and chaos working together

also necrons dont need to make sanity checks when horrors from the warp are summoned

>> No.20360983

Akhentomen got up onto his knees as his jaw slid back into place with the sound of knifes sliding across each other. He had not anticipated the sorcerer's reaction to his perfectly logical suggestion.

Nor had he anticipated that the sorcerer's staff would be at his throat when he recovered.

"I should smite you with all the power at my disposal until you are a scrap heap, machine."


"For daring to ssssssssssssuggesssssssssst -- to even DREAM -- that my brothers can be replacccccccccced as easily as one of your automatons."

Akhentomen was not sure if the prospect of replacing a necron or the fact that he had called them mere automatons angered him more. He kept calm, however. Too much was riding on this to jeopardize it now.

"Clearly I do not understand the problem. Please explain."

Malgus pulled his force staff back reluctantly and struggled to regain his composure. When he spoke again, his rage was still clearly evident, but more contained.

>> No.20361134

"That 'dussssssst' is all that remains of the sssssssspaccccccce marines that were oncccccccce the Thousand Ssssssssons."

Akhentomen's blank stare was all the reply the sorcerer needed to this statement. Akhentomen did not understand, and he let it show.

"Oncccccce, we were flesh and blood, like the ssssssssssspacccccce marines we now fight at your sssssssssside. The Weaver of Fatessssssss, in his wisdom, wracked usssssssss with mutations. His gifts. His blessssssssssings. But we were not prepared. He overesssssssstimated what our frames could withsssssssssstand."

Akhentomen stared in silence, understanding, but lacking sufficient information to speak. Malgus continued.

"One of our greatesssssssst sssssssssorcccccccerers, Ahriman, went againsssssssst the will of Tzeentch. Or ssssssso he thought at the time. I have ssssssssinccccccce realized this was Tzeentch's will all along. How could it not be? He is resssssssssponsible for all things."

"Skip the superstition. Get to the point."

Clearly irritated by his interruption, but more than willing to continue expounding on his legion's history, Malgus continued.

"Ahriman ssssssstopped the mutations. By turning all but our pssssssssykers into dussssssst."

>> No.20361188

Akhentomen felt something he never thought he would feel for the sorcerer: sympathy.

The tale of the Thousand Sons reminded him of the end of the Time of Flesh. It reminded him of the pact struck with the C'tan. It reminded him of the pain and horror of his own rebirth.

And it reminded him that somewhere, out in the universe, there is always someone worse off than you.

"I see. We will be more...co-operative in the future."

Malgus staggered backwards. Akhentomen saw that he seemed astonished that it had been this easy to gain more help from this alliance.

"Of course, we ask that you extend us the same courtesy. There is more to our warriors than meets the eye, as well."

"Until the Ssssssspacccccce Wolves are crushed, you have our aid. Now go. We captured ssssssssssome Guardsmen in the lasssssssst action, and their sssssssssssacrificccccccce will be most pleasing to the Lord of Change."

Any pity Akhentomen felt for the sorcerer evaporated in the face of such gleeful barbarism. He turned and left, without another word.

>> No.20361233

>>just finished reading A Thousand Sons
>>just got a friend into 40k with Thousand Sons as their starter army
>>this thread

Its like /tg/ really is the only board I need!

>> No.20361241

You doubted?

>> No.20361251

Chaos Necrons and Thousands Suns

>> No.20361339

How about a fabulous astartes doing fabulous things in a fabulous way?

>> No.20361412

I thought the Necrons were supposed to be evil and cruel killing machines that pretty much hated every living thing ever. Wouldn't they be just as eager as the Chaos Marines to engage in barbarism.

>> No.20361448

Bravo. Your interpretations of the factional relationships you choose to discuss are a pleasure to read.

Hoping to see more in the future!

>> No.20361452


Strictly speaking, no. They seek to RULE everything. They also want(ed) to kill anything with a longer lifespan then them, out of sheer spite. Now, though, they're just concerned re-asserting dominance, total rule of the galaxy.

Organics are beneath them, certainly, but that does not excuse barbarous, primitive blood sacrifice.

And before this turns into an oldcrons vs. newcrons debate: part of the reason I write these stories is to show the potential that the newcron fluff brings. There's pretty much no way I could have come out with any of this in the oldcron days.

>> No.20361492

I'm tired and want to go to bed, so tonight I will.

If the thread is still alive tomorrow, I will continue the story here.

If not, this thread is archived, so I will go to the archive and copy-paste-repost the Thousand Sons/Necrons story so far, and then continue it from there.

>> No.20361493

Well, I like the stories. I'm not really familiar with 40k so I just looked up a description of them and they sounded a bit different than the ones in your stories. But even then I could see individual people being less crazy than everybody else.

>> No.20361518


Your description may have been drawn from 3rd edition Necrons, which were omnicidal killbots with no personality, slaves to the will of the C'tan, seeking to slaughter and harvest all life for the soul-hunger of their star-god masters.

The 5th edition Necrons rose up in rebellion against the C'tan, shattered their physical bodies into mere shadows of their former selves, and reasserted dominance, becoming Tomb Kings IN SPAAAAAACE.

This is widely regarded as a bad move by morons and autists, who fail to realize that Tomb Kings are fucking awesome.

>> No.20361556

I for one , welcome our Newcron overlords, and Phaeron Phausett, their righteous herald.

Also, on your Ork work, the concept of "no more dakka" is just as false as "enough dakka" Does an ork have hands? Did the Gods bless him with bitz? Does his mind not thrum with the blessings of said Gods?

Their always will be, should be, and can be, More Dakka

>> No.20361581


The newcrons LOVE them some codes of honour and all that sort of shit.

They just choose not to aplly them if they think their opponents are "beneath them"

Which happens to be the case with most opponents

>> No.20361652

>Your description may have been drawn from 3rd edition Necrons, which were omnicidal killbots with no personality, slaves to the will of the C'tan, seeking to slaughter and harvest all life for the soul-hunger of their star-god masters.

Yeah, that's the one I read. I was confused about how the "Star Gods" in your other story factored into things. Did the Necrons actually defeat them or just trick them into enslaving themselves to the Necron just like the C'Tan did earlier to them?

>> No.20361670

Defeated. Broke them up into the shards, which are basically just their bodies with some of their power and no free will.

>> No.20361720


Necrons were tricked into their metal bodies so they could kill the "old ones" when the war was nearly completed the necrons stabbed the c'tan in the backs, breaking them into thousands of bits and then hid those bits in different places, dimensions, cookie jars whatever.

That's a REALLY quick run down of post 5th edition

>> No.20361750

It reminds me of the Xel Naga and the Zerg from Starcraft. Not counting SC2 because I just ignore what it did to the story.

>> No.20361808


>Starcraft reminding someone of 40k

Hmm, I wonder how that could be?

>> No.20361814


It iz a fall... a fa... is iz not true dat da orks dun unnerstand da koncept of "enuff dakka".

More dakka iz good, we'z all agreed. More dakka den dat iz betta. But da troof iz, we'z orks an' can karry only so much dakka. Now, da mek can make us da mega-armor and den we can karry more dakka den we can alone. But dere ain't enuff meks and so's only da nobz get da mega-armor. An' troof be told, even for a big nob wit' mega-armor, dere iz only so many places to weld on more dakka. I ain't even talkin' about ammo 'ere, da runtz can karry dat, but dere iz only so much space for dakka to BE.

So'z more dakka iz an aspira... aspi... it iz a t'ing dat all orks want in feory, but can't alwayz have, jus' like 'avin' a war every day an' all da squig beer yez can drink. We'z smart, we knowz da difference!

>> No.20362070

I now want a big book on "Ork Filahsofee"...

>> No.20362574

Although to be fair, this is one of those rare instances where the Starcraft fluff has been around longer than the Warhammer fluff.

>> No.20363002

>Akhentomen looked into the Sorcerer Lord's eyes with a nearly unmatched fury

And this is when I realized one of these people has a face made of metal and the other is wearing a helmet with a breather shaped like a constant snarl.

>> No.20363073

Mate, I rekonz ya got a good point. One ork can only dakka so much. But ya see, More Dakka isnt for just one ork ya git! More Dakka is For Everyork! Every grot, every trukk, every kan. Our homes, our ships, our drops. Squigs even.

If ya limit ya self ta just yaself, ocourse ya isnt gonna get nuffing dun! But weze da Orks. And Deres Tonnes of us boyz! And weze all connected, by Da WAAAAGH! Dats why dere is alwayz the chance for more Dakka!

>> No.20363155

I place my money on the guy with scarabs... wait

The guy raised in a pyramid...wait

The guy who can teleport...wait

The guy who can come back to life...wait

The army that "just as plans" a lot...wait

The guy with mindless robot soldiers...wait

>> No.20363229

"Da Arght o' Waaargh" by 'Zunt U

>> No.20363239


>> No.20363671

No, no I just mean, for characters with a lot of ,well, character, there's no meaningful way for them to emote bodily.

>> No.20366001


Philosophy, is it?

Found this a while back.

>> No.20367779


Actually, I imagined him having the Sindri helmet.

Except a variation of it where the front sort of "nose/mouth" bit is actually open, just shrouded in shadow, so that Malgus can do the aforementioned tongue-flicks and spitting and whatever.

>> No.20367811


This helmet.

>> No.20369281

"What do you have for the Nemesor, Akhentomen?"

"Our allies request that we offer them greater protection on the battlefield, my Vargard."

"A pointless waste of our efforts. This alliance will be terminated at the end of the campaign. Every loss they suffer is one we don't have to inflict later."

"Yet a necessary waste of our efforts, if you really want this alliance to work, Vargard."

Akhentomen imagined that Obyron was at least as irritated as he was.

"Very well. He shall have our aid. The final assault on the human base of operations will occur in three days. Inform him."

"With all due respect, Vargard, must we maintain this alliance? We have routed these Wolves with few if any casualties so far. Surely we can take the rest of the planet alone."

"It is irrelevant. The Nemesor wants them, ergo we must see to it that he has them."

"But Malgus is MAD. He is a barbaric fanatic, devoted to warp-spawned horrors that mutate and twist him. He counts himself blessed to have the most disgusting tongue in existence."

Obyron looks Akhentomen in the eyes for a long minute. When he spoke, it was quiet, and his tone was deadpan, yet the words were marinated in sarcasm like a fine steak.

"I cannot for the life of me imagine what it must be like to work with a mad ruler. Truly you bear a greater burden than any of us. Lord Akhentomen is the bravest Necron of any dynasty that has ever existed. My heart bleeds for you."

>> No.20369782

...You don't have a heart, Obyron.

...Just sayin'.

>> No.20369972

It's always so fascinating to see what other courts are like! With mine, it's mostly just Drone being rude and the other constructs doing whatever.

>> No.20370011

>and the other constructs groping tau butts

>> No.20370018

>>I cannot for the life of me imagine what it must be like to work with a mad ruler. Truly you bear a greater burden than any of us. Lord Akhentomen is the bravest Necron of any dynasty that has ever existed. My heart bleeds for you.

OH SNAP! Mad burn!

>> No.20370036

That's not fair! Only Drone is that cheeky! Ms. Shadow and Mr. Legs are both very well behaved! They're just always doing stuff.

>> No.20370046


>> No.20370071

What? What's so funny?

>> No.20370134

Oh, Xeno, you're so adorably oblivious. But this is a thread about real Necrons!

>> No.20370155

>tau butts

>> No.20370188

Well, this thread is over

>> No.20370238


>> No.20370255

>Tracey Morgan

>> No.20370278

>Charlie Chaplin

>> No.20370292

>Philip J. Fry

>> No.20371025



Took a mid-afternoon nap for reasons I'm still unclear on. I'm going to get some food, get back, and pick the story right back up. If the thread is dead, I'll pick it up in a new thread.

>> No.20371420

I meant that it was over because Xeno showed up.

>> No.20371651

Akhentomen approached Malgus, to bring him Obyron's instructions. The sorcerer was turned away from him, hunched forward and...giggling?


"Ak-ak-HEN-tomen, sssssssssssso good to sssssssssssssssee you again! Before. Again. Now." The sorcerer's back was still turned. Ordinarily, Akhentomen would consider this supremely rude, but something in the back of his mind told him he didn't want to see the sorcerer from the front again. Ever.

Despite his better judgment, he had to ask it. The alliance was necessary. There was no other choice.

"Are you...are you all right?"

The sorcerer whipped around, and Akhentomen nearly bolted for the Necron base. The sorcerer now gripped his force staff in a sickening claw jutting from a feathered arm, but even as Akhentomen watched the feathers were shifting colors and texture, now becoming cilia as the hand became covered in the sticky nubs of some sea creature, now becoming fur as the hand became a beast's paw, now becoming chitinous and insectoid as the hand became the stone fist of a statue.

"There was an accccccccccccident," the sorcerer said, his tongue flicking out obscenely, now covered in scales and hairs in equal measures. "No, there wasn't. The ssssssssacrificcccccce went jusssssssssssssst as it hadn't not been planned. We told him I couldn't hold your knife steady..."

"T...told who?"

"USSSSSSS!" cried the sorcerer triumphantly. Small mouths opened up on the tongue as it slithered out, and they joined in the glorious proclamation. "No, Tzeentch! But he is IN usssssss now! His generosssssssssssssity is unparalleled! We welcome his giftsssssssss!"

>> No.20371684

Akhentomen offered no response. He could think of nothing to say. Malgus stepped towards him, with a strange, hobbling gait.

"And he wantssssssssss to grant YOU his giftssssssssss too, Necron, but you won't take them. Why won't you accccccccccept?" Malgus was very close now. His eyes, glowing beneath his helmet, had a monstrously deranged look to them.

Akhentomen took a step back, barely containing his disgust. This would be the last time he spoke to the sorcerer. EVER. He hoped.

"Three days. We attack the base in three days. Be ready."

Malgus approached even closer, his tongue flicking out to dance across Akhentomen's collarbone. Paralyzed with revulsion and fear, Akhentomen stood perfectly still.

"We will be ready...ready for you...for them...will you be ready? For usssssss? For the Wolvesssssssss? Of coursssssssse you will, it is in the plan...or maybe it isn't...one of them, cccccccccertainly..."

Akhentomen turned on his heel and left as quickly as he could without overtly running. This alliance was getting worse with each passing moment. He desperately hoped that either he or the sorcerer would be annihilated in three days' time.

>> No.20371853

I love your stories, Phaeron Phaussett!

>> No.20371885


Thank you.

This one's nearly over. I'm just trying to figure out how to start the ending. Once I've started it, it will flow.

>> No.20372079

Xeno pls go

>> No.20372218

This is hella entertaining, even more so considering I played Thousand Sons and then started Necrons, mixing and matching allies as I please.

>> No.20372242

"All right, gentlemen, I will be leading this assault from the barge personally. Fight honorably. Remember, our enemies are not evil. They are necrontyr, like you and me, and you will treat them as such!"

Akhentomen silently suffered through Zahndrekh's speech. The general's sheer genius was the only thing that allowed him to retain power.

"As per the rules of war, you are to accept any surrender offered, and capture enemy officers alive when possible. With luck, we can bring their forces into the fold, and expand our dynasty with minimal bloodshed."

Vargard Obyron shifted uncomfortably next to the Nemesor, but his eyes were on the rest of the Royal Court. Zahndrekh's public appearances always stirred resentment. It was his duty to crush any who might threaten the exalted Nemesor.

"Vargard Obyron will brief you on the plan of attack. And remember, these Thal-Zend Szunsz are our allies. Treat them as such. Protect them if they come under fire. Expect them to show you the same courtesy. Good day, and good luck."

As Zahndrekh left, Obyron moved into the place where he had stood.

"Akhentomen, the Thousand Sons are stable and loyal to our cause in this fight, yes?"

"In this fight, yes, Vargard. In the aftermath, I cannot say."

"Fortunately, we do not require their loyalty then. Zahndrekh wants these Space Wolves as captives. As usual, you are to report that they either fought to the end and could not be restrained, or died trying to escape. Zahndrekh can only suspect you if he sees the truth, so follow his orders to the letter in his presence, but otherwise..."

Obyron leaned forward over the table, laying his warscythe down on top of it.

"Slaughter them to a man."

>> No.20372331

Akhentomen retrieved his warscythe from his quarters. This weapon had been with him for millions of years, since the end of the Time of Flesh. It had been a gift, from a fellow lord long since dead. His tomb world had failed to come back online. When Akhentomen had last saw him, his metal body was being scrapped for the Canoptek factories.

This warscythe was all that remained of him.

And he would need it for this fight.

They were to employ a tactic the Nemesor jokingly called the "Tele-court". Everyone had laughed at the pun when it was made, but only Obyron's laughter had approached sincerity.

Obyron's Ghostwalk Mantle was a fantastic device, created by a long-since-lost Cryptek who perfected the Veil of Darkness used by Harbingers of Despair. It was a device that defied replication, one which gave the user an incredible degree of control over his jump with the proper motivation.

Obyron's will was almost too weak to use it properly, even now. Almost. But jumping to his master was the motivation he needed.

The barge would move on ahead. Zahndrekh would ride far above the battlefield, bringing death from above, until he was near his intended position.

Then, Obyron and the Royal Court would leap to him, and destroy everything in his path.

>> No.20372717

The battlefield was warm, even in the dark hours before dawn. The warm climate of this location was to blame, but the heat exuding from the Space Wolves base in the basin below didn't help. The Space Wolves seemed to be preparing for evacuation, but not actually evacuating. They were not yet sure they needed to, but believed it could happen.

That would make this all the easier.

Without a word, Nemesor Zahndrekh raised his staff of light from his barge. He held it high, waiting for some signal that no other being in the battalion could see. Then, with a sudden movement, he pointed it directly at the base, and his barge zipped forward, leaving the Court behind, their trappings and accessories swaying in the the sudden wind.

As Akhentomen watched the charge, a convoy of Ghost Arks followed the chariot, at full speed, and a swarm of scarabs and spyders parted to go around the Court like a river splits around a boulder. High overhead, Night Scythes and Doom Scythes zoomed in, preparing to strafe the human army on the surface. Beams projected from the bottom of the Night Scythes, and entire squads of Immortals materialized at the bottom, unleashing the fury of their Gauss blasters on the base's motor pool.

In the wake of the Canoptek units, a trio of Thousand Sons Rhinos roared forward on their treads, as though eating the road itself. Malgus stuck out of the top hatch of the leading one, cacklingly madly. He had no new mutations...yet. Not that he needed any more to be abhorrent to Akhentomen's sight.

>> No.20372773

The Chaos force passed by, with larger tanks following behind the Rhinos, bristling with primitive human weapons.


Akhentomen snapped back at Obyron's word. The time was nearly at hand. Zahndrekh was almost in position. Obyron stared out over the battlefield, watching the barge intently.


Obyron whipped back towards the Court, as the Lords readied their warscythes. His mantle extended out much farther than it reasonably should have been able to do, casting a black shroud over Akhentomen's vision. For the briefest of instants, he was utterly blind.

The mantle slid out of his field of vision, and he was in front of the barge, surrounded by the rest of the Court, poised to enter the main building of the Space Wolves compound. Marines poured forth from the entry, and Obyron and the other lords cut each down with dispassionate, mechanical precision. Akhentomen followed the lords in as Obyron ushered them through the doorway, casting a worried glance back to the Thousand Sons. His last sight before the door slid closed was of Malgus, seeming far too excited about the battle raging around him. Obyron was staring at the sorcerer as well, staying outside with his master, where he belonged.

Akhentomen stalked after the other lords through the dull corridors, beheading confused servitors as the squad moved towards the center of the base.

>> No.20372908

The front of the Rhino opened. Malgus and his brothers issued forth from the front, fanning out like a gout of flame. His staff belched warpfire and lightning as Space Wolves died around him, and he gave himself fully to the Warp, as he had done countless times before.

But this time was different. This time, he could feel the Warp giving itself back to him. He could feel it overtaking him, consuming him.

It was a glorious agony.


The entire Space Wolves's motor pool had been demolished, and the sun was barely up. Men fell in droves as Gauss and bolter fire rang out across the landscape, the noise drowning out even the screams of the dying. The evacuation would never come to pass. Their defensive turret grid lay in ruins, and their trenches overrun.

But desperation makes the brave foolish. An assault marine screamed up towards the barge, propelled by his jump pack, streaming blood from a nasty leg wound. He brought his chainsword down upon the Nemesor with a final, fierce howl of defiance.

Staff met chain as the two clashed. Staff gave way. With a sudden cry, Nemesor Zahndrekh clutched at his forearm, at the deep gash that had been cut into the metal.

Obyron's eyes glowed with the intensity of a nova. He swirled his mantle, and appeared on the barge, next to his master. With a single swing of his warscythe, the presumptuous enemy was bisected. His master was safe again, for now.

"Thank you, Obyron," said Zahndrekh, shrugging the wound off as if it hadn't happened. His metallic skin was closing up, as if it indeed had not.

"My life is yours," said the Vargard.

>> No.20373143

As the battle raged around them, Zahndrekh turned back to look at their comrades, this strange Thal-Zend Szunsz Dynasty. These necrontyr wore strange headdresses, but seemed to be most effective in combat, even if their vehicles all used primitive, outdated technology.

Why did it seem like the Sautekh Dynasty and its clients were the only dynasties that could build skimmers anymore?

This Mal'Gurzh seemed as primitive as his technology, at that. He rushed into battle clutching a staff. His power was impressive, certainly, but his leadership was lacking. How these Thal-Zend Szunsz had lasted so long with such ineffective leaders was beyond his ability to comprehend.

Before Zahndrekh's eyes, however, Mal'Gurzh seemed to be changing...growing...


"Obyron...is...what in the name of the Phaeron is that?"

Obyron turned at his master's call, and looked where he was pointing. Malgus was changing, growing becoming...something. Portals opened around him, and horrible pink monsters streamed out of them, butchering the Space Wolves with their many arms and throwing fire from their hands.

"I...I do not know, my Nemesor."

"Obyron! OBYRON!"

Obyron's attention snapped back to his master. "I told you, sir, I do--"

His voice caught in his vox. Zahndrekh was staring at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Zahndrekh looked from his hands to the battlefield, from the battlefield to Obyron, from Obyron to his hands, and back, with a sheer horror on his face.

>> No.20373161

"Obyron...I...you...we are METAL! What are these monsters around me? What happened to Mal'Gurzh? OBYRON, HELP ME, I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Obyron could have burst from all the emotions he felt in that moment, as time stood still. He was elated that his lord finally saw reality as it is, that the delusions were finally over. He was irritated that it had to come in the middle of a battle. He was angry that the sorcerer had suddenly become a liability and the alliance could no longer hold. He was in awe of the psychic power before him, twisting reality itself as a small girl might twist the hem of her dress. And he was frightened for his master, for his dearest friend, as he saw the sheer terror in Zahndrekh's eyes.


With a swift bash to the back of the head with the pommel of his warscythe, Obyron did exactly that. Zahndrekh slumped back, unconscious, his systems scrambling to reboot and bring him back online. He would recover soon, and hopefully remember nothing of the insubordination that had just occurred, or the horror he had witnessed that had shattered his perception of the world around him.

"All units, fire on the Space Wolves only as a retaliatory measure! Concentrate fire on the Thousand Sons! Bring that monster down!" It took Obyron a second to realize the words had been his. He was destroying the alliance he himself had created.

And yet it felt so right, to strike down the writhing, morphing giant that had been Malgus. It felt like he was doing the universe a favor. He couldn't explain why.

>> No.20373208


do a little dance
make a couple horrors
get down tonight

>> No.20373213


>the alliance he himself had created.

Please replace this with

>the alliance he himself had demanded.

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't do nearly enough (read: any) editing on these before I post them. That's probably a bad habit.

>> No.20373503

>Concentrate fire on the Thousand Sons! Bring that monster down!"

Or you could just have your spyders activate their gloom prisms and he fades into nothingness. Or just throw him in a labyrinth.

The Warp isn't new to the Necrons, neither are daemons nor warp gods. They know what they are doing we they ally with CSMs, and they can handle any threat they can throw back at them.

>> No.20373529

The collected lords fought the Space Wolves command squad with all the mercy of a hungry predator. Akhentomen beheaded the white-armored one as he injected something into one of his wounded brothers. His fellows slashed through the other marines like knifes through butter.

But the commander was a different matter.

The claws on his wrists cut through a Lord and sent him sprawling to the floor. Green energy shimmered over him as he phased out. His assistance could no longer be expected.

A second Lord rushed the commander with his warscythe extended, but froze mere inches from the human's face. The halo on the human's back hummed with a strange power, and the human effortlessly chopped him in two. The parts had phased before they hit the ground.

And there was the opening Akhentomen needed. He launched himself forward, preparing to chop his warscythe into the back of the commander...

And with a bestial snarl, the commander brought his claws through the warscythe's haft, cutting the head cleanly off. The handle sparked and died in Akhentomen's grasp.

His weapon, his dear friend's weapon, had been destroyed before his eyes.

The human would pay.

>> No.20373582


Knowledge of the gods of the warp and the daemons within was only known to the very top echelons of the Imperium before the Horus Heresy. The existence of daemons and the dark gods is still not widespread information among humanity, even though the Imperium had been using warp travel for millennia.

The eldar know of Chaos, calling it the ancient enemy, but only because of the whole mess with Slaanesh. If they had known of the gods of the warp, they wouldn't have been so stupid as to fuck Slaanesh into existence.

The warp isn't new to necrons, sure, but its gods and dangers? They didn't start emerging into the materium until the Eye of Terror was spawned, and the Necrons were asleep at the time. I'd say the Chaos gods and the daemons aren't familiar territory.

>> No.20373621

> I'd say the Chaos gods and the daemons aren't familiar territory.

Except they actually have counter measures to these things and can have experienced fighting warp entities because the Old Ones made the warp into such a shitty place by the end of the war in heaven (not the birth of the eye).

>> No.20373697

"And the enemy commander?"

"Captured. Killed trying to escape."

"How unfortunate. It's such a pity that we have so much trouble taking our foes alive," Obyron replied, insincerity dripping from every syllable. Akhentomen would have laughed, but nobody was in a laughing mood right now.

"The Nemesor?"

"I don't know. We have to wait for him to wake up."

As if on cue, Zahndrekh began to stir. Obyron was at his side in an instant, taking his master's hand in his own.

"Obyron...did we win?"

"Yes, my lord. The Spehzz-Oulf dynasty fought to the last man, and were slain to the last. Their commander died a coward's death, in an escape attempt. The Thal-Zend Szunsz turned on us during the battle. You were incapacitated when their fire hit the barge."

"Good. Very good. You know, I have the strangest memories of that battle..."

"No doubt dreams from your unconsciousness. Pay them no heed, my lord."

"No...of course not..."

Obyron looked up at the assembled Court. His stern gaze told them everything they needed to know. They filed out, back to their quarters, leaving the two alone.

Akhentomen glanced back on his way out to see the Nemesor staring at his left hand as he moved his fingers through the air, as though expecting to see something in their movement. Obyron's concern hung oppressively in the room, like a fog.


"Yes, my lord?"

"...drinks are on me tonight..."

"Of course, my lord."


>> No.20373737


The Null Field Matrices sidebar on page 16 of the codex suggests they are familiar with psykers, but not gods and daemons per se. Where do you find the part about how the Tesseract Labyrinths and Gloom Prisms were designed with daemons in mind?

>> No.20373972


Obyron felt good.

The battle was won, Zahndrekh wasn't on his case about this alliance anymore, and a new world was conquered for the Gidrim Dynasty.

He felt so good that he had informed Akhentomen of his imminent promotion, to Overlord status. In one year's time, Akhentomen would have his own client dynasty of the Gidrim to rule, and his own world. The Lord had been taken aback by this, apparently expecting to be severely punished after the collapse of the alliance.

"I thought you were going to hold me responsible if it fell apart," Akhentomen had said.

Obyron had replied, "That is precisely what I am doing."

As he returned to his quarters, he looked to the desk in the corner. There, in its usual place, sat a hologram of a freshly-crowned necrontyr overlord and his bodyguard. The Overlord had his fingers up behind the bodyguard's head, as "scarab antennae".

For the first time in a long while, Obyron had no mixed feelings. He was gladder than ever that his master still believed it was the Time of Flesh.

And for the first time in his life, Obyron didn't want those delusions to ever end.

Obyron felt good.

>> No.20373991


Also, Gloom Prisms simply nullify psykers. They aren't really an anti-daemon weapon.

Tesseract Labyrinths are anti-daemon weapon, but then they're an anti-EVERYTHING weapon.

>> No.20374404

So that's the Thousand Sons story done. I feel like it doesn't quite measure up to Waiting For Godot, but I was trying something more poetic and experimental with Waiting For Godot. This is kind of...well, forced, if I'm honest. A fairly typical war story.

I tried to throw in some Zahndrekh and Obyron drama to make it feel less paint-by-numbers, but I still feel like it's a step down.

>> No.20374411


Lost my name/trip.

>> No.20374557

It worked well anyway. Sometimes, things don't need to be experimental. They don't need to be fancy. They just need to work with what they are, and that's what this did.

>> No.20374681

>Also, Gloom Prisms simply nullify psykers. They aren't really an anti-daemon weapon.

Read the fluff they de-stabilize warp entities as well.

>> No.20374801

He is right that Warp-entities are not new to Necrons and their weapons can banish them/seal them.
We also know that the warp became a fucked up place to be long before they went to sleep.
The codex even states that near the end of the war in heaven the warp turned against the Old Ones and spawned creatures came to destroy them.
All this means is they know a warp entity when they see one (daemons are just a subtype)

What we don't know is if their weapons effectiveness was designed with daemons in mind or just a side effect of weakening the materiums connection with the warp.
Either way it doesn't matter because Necrons can identify warp entities and still use the same tech to end them.

>> No.20375069


I guess as long as I make fewer fluff mistakes than the Ultramarines movie, I'm basically in the clear?

>> No.20375108

I normally despise fanfics, but this was great.
Humor, drama, action, all in the 40k universe.
I liked it.

>> No.20375270



You can check out my other well-received works here:


And here:


>> No.20375291


I think one of the things that probably helps is that I don't try to write romances and I don't have a weeaboo bone in my body.

Though I do ship Obyron as having a permanently unrequited gay crush on Zahndrekh. It just makes too much sense.

>> No.20375409

Well, technically, Obyron is a lychguard not a lord so his undying loyalty for absolutely no reason is probably hard-wired into his brain.

He couldn't take advantage of Zandrekh if he wanted to.

>> No.20375462

>Obyron is a lychguard not a lord

This is also probably humiliating to Zandrekh's royal court as well because he is not actually of royal blood and is ordering nobles around.

Of course they can't call him out on it because he speaks for Zandrekh (their superior) and if they challenge him Obyron has a right to fight them to the death.
Given how much of a badass Obyron is in combat, no one will risk it.

>> No.20375514

I had a request, in case you're still taking them.

Anrakyr and Typhus fighting each other over the title of "the Traveler".

>> No.20375595

I request anything involving Xeno. Preferably her humiliation at the hands of real Necrons.

>> No.20375596


I wasn't aware Typhus styled himself as the Traveller.

I'll consider it.

>> No.20375614


I've actually been meaning to delve into Xeno stories for some time, but I know so little about here. She's not describe on 1d4chan, and the first archived quest thread I found seemed to suggest that she was already a well-established character in the /tg/ canon. Could you point me in the right direction?

>> No.20375649

Not >>20375595, but Shas, Xeno's creator, still turns up from time to time. If you want to get her to show herself, though, you've gotta do something to get her attention. New Xeno drawfaggotry is usually a good start.

>> No.20375651


Take a look at the Sautekh Dynasty org chart on page 13.

While it is true that Lychguard are below the station of Lords, Vargard is a rank that is on par with them (Imotekh has one too, for instance), and Obyron was already Zahndrekh's Vargard before the biotransference. It may be that he got the Lord treatment instead of the Lychguard treatment during the reprogramming, in which case his loyalty is a choice.

Or it may be that he got the Lychguard treatment and simply rationalizes reasons for his loyalty.

>> No.20375678

Since we don't have a proper list of the number of different variants there was for the biotransference it could also be that the vargards got their own variant.

>> No.20375694


Pic related.

>> No.20375743

What makes you think I'm not already here?

>> No.20375774

“Near?” the Herald growled. “Soon?”
Speech was also difficult. The Herald swallowed to clear its throat. Whatever had been lodged there wriggled as it went down.
“We are only hours from our destination, Herald,” the Traitor Astartes said.
“The Legion?” snarled the Herald.
“The Legion stands ready, great Traveller.”
Traveller. Another of its titles. And… tied to its name…
“My ship,” purred the Herald wetly. Its scabby gauntlets stroked the corroded throne. “My ship. Terminus Est.”
“Yes, lord.” The Traitor Astartes was used to the warp-sickness affecting the Herald. He knew it would pass soon.
In life, ten thousand years ago as the galaxy had descended into the war that would never end, he had been the First Captain of the Death Guard.
Now, the Scourge of Scarus, the Traveller, Host of the Destroyer Hive, Herald of the Grandfather of Decay, prepared to do battle once more.
>Cadian Blood, page 71

He's more famous as The Herald, but Traveller is one of his titles.

>> No.20375804


If you are actually Shas, please direct me to Xeno fluff.

>> No.20375911


First round, mostly joking, will try a real Typhus/Anrakyr story later.


The massive, bloated marine sat with his enormous scythe across his knees. On the scythe's rusted, pitted blade, Anrakyr could just barely make out the inscription "TYPHUS" as what appeared to be a name. The handle was etched with a series of epithets: herald, harbinger, host, wanderer, traveller...


Anrakyr's own warscythe lay across his own knees as he sat with his back to the opposite wall.



"The Traveller."


"You know, my people call me the Traveller too."

Typhus seemed utterly disinterested. He picked at one of his boils, and seemed satisfied to see it pop, oozing pus down his armor. A fat maggot spilled out. He pushed the edge of his helmet up to show his misshapen, contagion-encrusted mouth, and brought the maggot to it, eating it as if it were a large sausage. Anrakyr tried to hide his disgust at the crunching, squishing noise.

"...man, fuck this cave."



>> No.20375998


What I was sort of going for.

>> No.20376048

It's not really centralized anywhere, but almost every single Tau Quest thread is available on Foolz (even the ones that weren't archived on sup/tg/ because it was down). I didn't trip originally, so the first thread is hard to follow.

You can also search every post I've ever made here, if you're really interested, but a lot of it isn't really worth poring over: http://archive.foolz.us/tg/search/username/Shas%27o%20Tau%27quest/tripcode/%21%21oRzT9pO4Q3p/order/d

I've done a few QAs before, so those'll be in there, and I'd be glad to answer any questions that you have now.

There is a 1d4chan entry for Tau Quest, just not Xeno by herself, but it doesn't have much in the way of background in it.

>> No.20376099

I think it started here, but i might be horribly mistaken.


>> No.20376134

>"When you have added all the dakka you can, what do you do?"
>"No, you have added all you can. You have no more dakka to add."
>"MORE DAKKA!" bellowed the Ork, clearly excited at the prospect.
>"No, you cannot add more dakka."
>"...I still don' get it."
>"Obviously," replied Narmoren, turning to Yrendrikh to translate the exchange. Yrendrikh was clearly not pleased, but did not press the issue. Narmeron's gratitude at this was very nearly a tangible thing.

For eternal machine gods, these "Necrons" show a surprising inability to deal with simple philosophical concepts. Note it down, Adjutant.

>> No.20376269


I'm having difficulty separating whole threads. My searches are turning up mere posts.

Did the first one begin with "You awaken with a start, gripping tight to your trusty pipe spanner and listening for any sign of danger. The deck 8 security substation is silent save for the low, insistent chime of the computer terminal nearby, reminding you of the hull breach just beyond the thing windows of your shelter."?

>> No.20376279

>Eternal Machine Gods
Yeah, no. The C'tan were gods, kind of, but the Necrons aren't gods at all, and aren't really familiar with theology, I think.

>> No.20376366


Ya know what, never mind. Just give me the basic primer, the kind of thing you'd see in a one-page codex entry. I'll work from that.

I can't promise she won't get some reinterpretations and stuff along the way, and I can't promise I'll fit with the Tau Quest continuity, but I can at least write a Xeno story.

>> No.20376408

... I cannot say I have any idea how /tg/ is going to respond to this.
I'm excited.

>> No.20376438

Wow. Good luck being virgins for the rest of your lives.

>> No.20376441


It probably won't be in this thread, or tonight. It's nearly midnight where I am, and I'm trying to reconstruct a sane sleeping schedule.

>> No.20376444



The sensuous delights of the Hamburg Reeperbahn are many and affordable.

>> No.20376686

This is probably the most comprehensive dump of Tau Quest threads I've ever put together.

Tau Quest Part I - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8307146
Tau Quest Part II - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8314629
Tau Quest Part III - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8324943
Tau Quest Part IV - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8332711
Tau Quest Part V - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8336774
Tau Quest Part VI - ?????
Tau Quest Part VII - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8350516
Tau Quest Part VIII - ?????
Tau Quest Part IX - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8366648 (trip got cracked in this one)
Tau Quest Part IX-1 - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8368375
Tau Quest Part X - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8372711
Tau Quest Part XI - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8385822
Tau Quest Part XI-2 - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8387712
Tau Quest Part XI-3 - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8388281
Tau Quest Part XII - ?????
Tau Quest Part XIII - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8407630
Tau Quest Part XIV - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8426561 (no longer really keeping track of episode numbers at this point)
Tau Quest Part XV - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8434179 (Detailed recap)
Tau Quest Part XVI - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8441332
Tau Quest Part XVII - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8456231
Tau Quest Part XVIII - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/8478487
Tau Quest Part XIX - http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/8478487/
Tau Quest Part XX - http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/8498317/
Tau Quest Part XXI - http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/8533726/

>> No.20376847


Truly you are a god.

Thank you. This will keep me entertained for months to come. I hope.

>> No.20377139

Just got finished reading through your other threads. I thoroughly enjoy the story with Fokaal (I actually initially believed him to be Balor the fell handed, when you described him as having been alive for ten thousand years).

I eagerly look forward to your next story. Fork kicks, I think the Blood Ravens or the Iron Hands would make for interesting "unlikely allies". Or perhaps an encounter with Doom Rider would be in order.

>> No.20377177

Bjorn, not Balor. Silly me.

>> No.20377459


Waiting For Godot: 40k Edition will never get a sequel. I don't want to give it a canon ending, because I feel like that misses the point.

It is likely to get more prequels, though.

Also, soundtracks for the three endings:

Necron End: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uorR5Cn4a-Q Better if you imagine it in slow-mo, with Gauss shots accompanying the Reaper horns
Imperium End: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqTDh6wiTM8
Ork End: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYfDEMoeQBI

>> No.20379395

its mildly amusing to see this thread is still up, remember that other bit of write faggotry, the imperial and federation officer exchange program, where an imperial fist was put on the enterprise and riker had to train with them

>> No.20380514

I have a story idea

A thousand sun rubric marine is running amok in a burned out wreckage of an emperor battleship, it is clear, he has not had a gentle existence on the old warship is clearly being hunted. By who or what is worrying, as few creatures have the skill to hunt down the marine, let alone possess enough skill that it can land a few blows before either retreating or being destroyed
His power armor; a highly decorated yet ancient suit belonging to the Maximus family, seems to be entirely original. Despite the level of skill clearly gone into the suit, it is severely damaged indicating he has been there for what seems to be a damnable amount of time fighting grotesque horrors found in the dark, long unsealed lower decks.
The suit’s environmental seals appear to have been fused shut by an intense heat. The helmet, although still appearing just as glorious and intimidating as the day it was forged, shows signs of heavy use over a few millennia. The outer layer appears to have been peeled back forcefully and multiple subsystems are visible. The targeter works surprisingly enough; based on the skill of his aim he might never have even needed it.
The chest has multiple deep dents; no doubt from centuries of fighting on the offensive. The left pauldron, despite its age, shows that the marine used to be in a veteran squad. The right pauldron still shows some ancient heraldry despite the damage to other armor components. The left and right legs are riddled with scores of dents and abrasions while the arms are covered in some sort of organic fluid that might be blood but the color is off. The armor’s back mounted power supply seems functional even still but looks as if it was once struck by a thunder hammer.

>> No.20380544


He seems to be following something, his behavior is hinting that it may be close by and moving, as he will occasionally break from his slow, almost uncertain gait into a maddened sprint of desperation. He occasionally fires upon an unseen target off in the distance with extreme prejudice
He is armed with an old storm bolter and lightning claw indicating he was once an assault marine, but his jet pack is either stowed away or long since abandoned. He might have once been a part of a boarding party on a mission that went terribly wrong, based on the astute observation of a recently turned chaos marine, by pointing at the drop pod sitting haphazardly in the middle of a destroyed medical bay which appears to be thousand sons property.
The commander notices that it is a bit strange how he has lasted all this time yet still moves as if in a flash back of the great crusade. There is either a sorcerer hidden in the ship or something so terrible has stirred the restless marine into action. Hopefully the sojourn into the old wreckage will yield answers and possibly relics.

im a lot better DMing than i am at writing

>> No.20381590

The commander decides to follow the marine to see where he will lead them; they quickly notice that the seemingly random shots he fires are finding their mark. Instead of a loud bang and a dent to be found in a wall they find no trace of what the rounds have slammed into. This worries the commander deeply, true in only his devotion to himself he quickly hides all signs save for caution. The commander leading this small squad expected trouble but the heavy flamer he holds onto does little to stifle his fears of the growing darkness that seems to wisp around as if alive. He deeply regrets being the only marine in terminator armor for the feeling in his stomach tells him that he will soon be all alone in the dark.

The small party consists of 3 Chaos marines and 1 traitor guardsmen. The commander Isiah was once a member of the iron warriors legion but has turned away in favor of a quiet life of hijacking ships, and is currently carrying a heavy flamer and a chainfist.

Astril, the second in command from the Imperial Fists and is currently carrying a heavy bolter and wearing mark 7 armor with a mark 6 “beakie” helmet.

The third and newest marine is a recently turned scout from the white scars named Jaric, he is carrying his shotgun and is wearing a pieced together mark 5 suit, and he also is carrying the supply of demo charges and is the rear guard.

The most perplexing member of the party by far is the traitor guardsman Turner, he is wearing an environmental suit with integrated carapace armor, his weapon of choice is plasma rifle which he uses in conjunction with grenades of every flavor, he is also carrying medical supplies, food, and some communications equipment so that he can stay in contact with the other marines. He is the only member of the party to have cybernetics applied so heavily. The cause of his extensive replacements was from his stint in the imperial guard.

>> No.20381855 [DELETED] 

Turner’s left arm was immediately severed from the force of the blast that caused the tank to roll over; his right arm was burned off, his lungs ruined by fire, and his heart struggling after going into shock from blood clots and lack of oxygen. A heretek browsing the battle field for toys noticed the man and decided to help. Turner lives in an old frigate with the heretek, Shima, partially out of necessity but mostly out of gratitude towards the one who saved him. He aids the heretek by getting her “groceries” which are usually salvaged, stolen, or earned by doing favors for others which has earned him a reputation of being a generally dependable guy while his cybernetics ensure he is still a dangerous man.

The frigate is currently parked outside the wrecked battle ship where Shima is franticly monitoring the situation to ensure the survival of her friend, but that doesn’t stop her from getting giddy at the idea of new toys. Even though her ship is docked with the ancient floating debris she has no problem with launching a missile strike at precise locations to blow apart the wreck if it is deemed too dangerous.

>> No.20381888

Turner was trapped under a burning chimera for 2 days; both his legs were crushed from the knees on down when the mini tank rolled over on top of him trapping him under a roiling inferno. His entire left arm, his right arm from the elbow down, both legs from knees on down, his lungs and his heart had to be replaced.

Turner’s left arm was immediately severed from the force of the blast that caused the tank to roll over; his right arm was burned off, his lungs ruined by fire, and his heart struggling after going into shock from blood clots and lack of oxygen. A heretek browsing the battle field for toys noticed the man and decided to help. Turner lives in an old frigate with the heretek, Shima, partially out of necessity but mostly out of gratitude towards the one who saved him. He aids the heretek by getting her “groceries” which are usually salvaged, stolen, or earned by doing favors for others which has earned him a reputation of being a generally dependable guy while his cybernetics ensure he is still a dangerous man.

The frigate is currently parked outside the wrecked battle ship where Shima is franticly monitoring the situation to ensure the survival of her friend, but that doesn’t stop her from getting giddy at the idea of new toys. Even though her ship is docked with the ancient floating debris she has no problem with launching a missile strike at precise locations to blow apart the wreck if it is deemed too dangerous.

i am planning on using this as a mission in black crusade

>> No.20381914

im using cowboy bebop as bit of a reference point for what two people living in a frigate doing off hand work would do, im going to post more later

>> No.20383257


Well, since you've clearly got a big, thought-out plan for this story, with already-fleshed-out characters and stuff and no necrons, I'm not going to use it for a future writefagging thread.

By all means, DM it or whatever (or expand it/pad it out into a proper story), but I think I'll leave this one in your hands.

>> No.20383428

im involving lesser used monster in the story, and when i read your stories i came up with about 3 other plots, and im slowly merging them together, and i re read your stories when i was high, still pretty good at holding my attention

>> No.20383460

As the group follows the Rubric marine they notice further and further oddities of the ship itself. Most bulk heads have been warped or torn to allow a larger object to pass through, the floors and walls are loaded with stress fractures from what must have been catastrophic engine failure, which would surely explain the situation, but if that had been the case, “Why is there still atmosphere?” the commander mused quietly.
“Anything on the auspex?” asked Jaric over the vox
The commander noticed that there still was not a single alert, the ship is long dead and cold and they are simply walking through a graveyard.
“There is nothing here, besides that damn thousand son clockwork menace” Commander Isiah beamed over the vox channel clearly irritated.
“Well, the only areas still intact are the living quarters, and engine room. The cargo bay is exposed to the vacuum and so is the bridge. The entire lower decks appear to be flooded with water and radiation. The whole ship is without power but we could try making repairs and seeing what is salvageable” Shima quickly piped in, clearly eavesdropping.
“It would be prudent to search the ship and then make repairs, we don’t want to take any chances when it comes to what might be lurking around” Turner responded gruffly

>> No.20383500


Okay, stop.

First off, pick a tense. Write in the present tense or the past tense. Stick to that tense for the entire story.

Secondly, space your paragraphs out. It's fine if you need multiple posts. Spaced paragraphs help readability.

Thirdly, you're trying to convey the idea of a long-dead ship. You're going WAY too fast. Split up thoughts into sentences whenever possible. You need to evoke the stillness of the ship in your writing.


>The commander noticed that there still was not a single alert, the ship is long dead and cold and they are simply walking through a graveyard.

"The commander noticed that there was not a single alert active. The ship was cold and dead, and had clearly been so for a very long time. They were not walking through a vessel. They were walking through a graveyard."

See the difference?

I'd recommend starting over, because what you've written so far is hard to follow. I might also recommend starting it in a new thread, so we don't overbump this one in the middle of your tale.

>> No.20383502

The commander agrees with the half metal renegade but does not feel like airing his opinion. This whole mission stinks of danger, the shadows seem to be dancing just out of the way of his search light and they are have been following that silent suit of armor for the last 5 hours. The commander knows the rubric marine is a powerful boon if they can take it, but it seems “occupied” and they have no sorcerers to try and take control... it also seems to have some sort of knowledge of this place.
The rubric marine stops walking, much to the worry of the 4 man team. The commander looks to see what is causing the hold up and he notices that there is a rather thick bulk head in the way. The entirely intact door seems completely out of place given the crushed and warped walls behind them and the commander is hesitant about using his chain fist to open it up.
Turner opens a vox link, “Any ideas on what is behind that door?” he is quickly answered back from Shima who has the scans and blue prints on multiple screens in her tech lab, “yea, its some sort of access tunnel that goes to the other side of the ship which will take you to the living quarters, be careful, I’m not picking up anything besides echoes…” her voice trails off, “What kind of echoes?” replies Astril in a worried tone, “from what I can tell, residual electromagnetic interference from the reactor, it won’t affect communications as long as you guys set up a few com buoys, I will later try to….” The commander tuned out Shima and focused his attention to the chainfist on his left arm as he starts sawing through the door unexpectedly. It will take around a minute for him to completely remove the door.

>> No.20383541


Also, you can use "said". It's only cliched and boring because it's so effective. Save your special verbs for special situations, or you risk sounding like a teenager who got a thesaurus for Christmas. I rarely use "said" in my own writing, but that's because all of my shit has been so incredibly dialogue-heavy that it's generally better to just give each line of speech its own line of text and leave it at that.

On that note, when it's contextually clear who the speaker is, no verb is required. The line can stand on its own.

>> No.20383542

i have never written anything like this before, this is literally my first attempt at writefaggotry, and this is my rough draft, the spacing problem is from me writing this down in word, and then copying it piece by piece

>> No.20383559


Then I would recommend getting the whole rough draft out in Word, revising it, and THEN posting it here.

All my work is first drafts written right here in these little submission boxes with a quick bit of proofreading before I hit submit, but I'd never recommend that style to anyone. I'd produce much better work if I laid the whole thing out in Word first, revised it, and then started a fresh thread, copy-pasting paragraph by paragraph.

>> No.20383560

im having a bit of trouble trying to nail down that fun emotion between completely alone in the dark and what four hardened guys in armor would do, also im trying to think of how make the umbra's presense known

>> No.20383571

i normally make my friends read rough drafts but its five am and i made the whole story in about 2 hours, also i guess my word choosing is being influenced by the music i am listening to now, defenders of the faith is pretty good for combat

>> No.20383573

>I'd produce much better work if I laid the whole thing out in Word first, revised it, and then started a fresh thread, copy-pasting paragraph by paragraph.
Thats what I've started doing whenever I writefag, if only because I can't count the number of times I've accidentally closed the QR box and LOST EVERYTHING! FUCK!

>> No.20383615

also i feel that taking my first stab at this requires me to be high to calm me down, as i heavily write the setting based on my own emotional patterns, as i want to make turner the main character but its a group and im trying not to make this into a 400 page novel the next idea is the party gets caught up in a slaneeshi carnival caravan which results in fun shenanigans and fighting knife throwing acrobats

>> No.20383629

>also i feel that taking my first stab at this requires me to be high to calm me down
No no no no NO. NEVER writefag high. Or at least, never post your "finished works" high. If you need a reason as to why, just copy and past your last post and read it when your sober.

>> No.20383635

i have no idea how you could type a whole story into this tiny box with out copying it over to word, as the very momment i lose it im going to fucking yell and get a cigarette or five

>> No.20383654

i did that whole story high, and im from one of those fun batch of kids that were constantly fucked up on aderall, i can handle my highs better than most people can handle their dick

>> No.20383659

>write a bunch of shit
>"shit this is getting long, better copy it to word"
>got to scroll to top of the box
>accidentally hit the X instead
>gently weep myself to sleep instead of writing anything
Now if I think I'm gonna writefag, I just type it up in word first.

>> No.20383664

>i did that whole story high
Yes, I know. It shows.

>> No.20383666


Well, what I can tell you from what I've read so far:

1) Pick a tense. This is a mechanical error, not a storytelling error, but proper storytelling should be generally free of mechanical errors. Stick to present tense or past tense. Past tense is generally much easier to do well, which is why I do it, and why I would recommend it.

2) Pacing. Pacing pacing pacing. This is what makes or breaks a good story. You can have the best plot ever with the best characters ever in the best setting ever, but if you can't pace it effectively you cannot tell that story effectively. Slow down. There's no hurry. You're going at a pace I would reserve for dream sequences and acid trips.

3) Show, not tell. This feeds back into the part above. Show (via prose) that the ship is empty and dead before your characters say it is (via dialogue). Show that a character is confused (via confused-sounding dialogue) before you say they're confused (via prose). Throw directly quoted dialogue around when it's the best way to tell the story. Use indirect quotations when they're the best way to tell the story ("Salvius launched into a very long and detailed justification as to precisely why he was on a bike, in a craftworld, fucking Quintus's wife in the sidecar. Unfortunately, this did nothing to soothe Quintus's clearly irrational anger at the situation."). Use plain old prose when it's the best way. It's all about finding the way that shows the reader the most without explicitly saying "he was angry" or "it was dark" (except when the pacing calls for a direct approach like that).

>> No.20383676

the very last part is the only part i did sober, smoking roaches will only get me so far creativly, when im sobre im usually thinking of dumb ass ideas and it worries me

>> No.20383679


Also, if I'm perfectly honest, I usually write while slightly tipsy, but I'm talking like "I have a glass of scotch here on the table that I am gradually working through over the course of an hour as I write this".

I would never attempt to writefag while high or more than buzzed/tipsy.

>> No.20383693


In addition, I only do the actual writing work while tipsy. I try to get the basic story idea solidly in my mind while sober. Being tipsy helps me loosen up and be less self-critical when I'm getting the sentences out, because otherwise I find myself in endless-self-editing paralysis trying to find precisely the right word. If I wasn't a lazy fucker, I'd go back and edit the whole work while sober, then post it here bit by bit.

But I am a lazy fucker, so I don't do that, and my writing suffers for it.

>> No.20383716

i out right know im going to be spending tomorrow re working this, i just wanted to chuck the main points out there and try to link them the best i can
you clearly have no idea
i first wanted to add genestealers but those have been overly used and are a bit rape-y, then the idea of using an umbra hit me, and i liked that way better, a golf ball that manipulates shadows i can get behind, as i can always explain that the ship belonged to the inquisition and probably is full of other shitty things designed to fuck a man over

>> No.20383750

being tipsy and buzzed i understand, i have the exact same problem, but as long as you arent getting completely shitfaced hammered then there is no harm in it

>> No.20383833

aside from my drug usage, i am pretty thankful that you offered some advice, im thinking of how i can rework the dialog, and i like synonymy, i also did not mean to derail the thread, i just wanted feed back as i was having some problems writing

>> No.20383945

Kaptin's Log - Stardate: What's da zoggin' day again?

Da boyz and I 'ave been driftin' thru space ever since dat encounter wit' da rok, some beakies, and dat weirdfaced squig.

We'z got gud luk, tho' - turns out dere's more of dem weirdfaced squigs den boyz no matter how many we eat, so we'z had plenty of food. Dat's gud, 'cause dat mek's nearly lost some teef three days runnin', wif all his 'I'm a mek, Kaptin, not a weirdboy' nonsense. We'z hittin' kritikal levels of mukkin' about wif all this wibbly-wobbly mekspeak he keeps usin', stuff about kwantum fluc... fluc... vari... ah, zog it. He sez we teknically don't exist, but I told 'im dat's stupid, cuz if we don't exist, how is it dat his 'ead made dat dent in the wall? And anyway, teknicals is what we has Meks for in da first zogging place.

We'z been in the warp for a while now, which is a right laff - when we DID have a weirdboy, and not dis crazy mek who doesn't even know what kinda boy he iz ha'f da time, he started speakin' crazy-like and his 'ead popped. Da mek blamed it on some 'telepaf' crud, but I think he just doesn't know how weirdboyz work - you'd think 'e'd never seen a weirdboy lose his 'ead before.

Boyz are gettin' restless - we'z invaded about once every week, which gets some pretty good scraps, but it'z nothin' like a proper WAAAGH. We'z gotta get outta dis... abdom... abominable... dis weird space hole and find us a planet to loot, or da boyz'll start grumblin' about not gettin' enuff fightin'.

Enuff mukkin' about, I'z got a krew to boss.

Kaptin's WAAAAGH - er, Log, signin' off

>> No.20383977

that made me lol,
if we dont exist then how did your head make that dent in the wall?

>> No.20384049


Goddamn, Orks are so fun to read/write. Wish I'd thought of this, that was brilliant.

>> No.20384051

i have a post mission story idea,

....after the mission turner and shima are "relaxing" and forgot to close the door, Jaric is sitting in the small kitchen near by, his helmet is off and he is clearly wearing a look of horror on his face due to being within ear shot of the heretek Shima"coupling" with Turner. Jaric occasionally looks down at his meal but is simply unable to eat out of disgust, every time he opens his mouth to try and put a fork full of food in he hears what sounds like power tools kicking in to over drive followed by moans and screams. For the first time in Jaric's life as a space marine, he can't stop vomiting

>> No.20384090


>> No.20384091


You got high again, didn't you?

I hope you aren't one of those guys who DMs while high and argues that it helps your creativity.

>> No.20384104

im going to write a story about Jaric and his horrible miss adventures with Turner and Shima, i think of writing jarics character as nearly inexperienced as he was a scout when he left and is kind of neutral on the whole chaos thing

>> No.20384106

See, logically, I knew this had to already exist.

But I couldn't find any existence of a similar thing. So I wrote it anyway.

>> No.20384117

im not high, i just dont go in to detail when it comes to things like sex, well i like details just not about sex or drugs, as half my players never done any drugs so id be wasting my time, and one of my players is a virgin and i think he would pop a boner

>> No.20384138

why would you think im high again?
also this thread has been up a long long time, i love it

>> No.20384143


You apparently misunderstand my objection.

I wasn't saying the sex scene needed more detail. I was questioning its appearance at all.

>> No.20384162

well, after a very long and dangerous mission, some times, you just have to hit all the walls, also why wouldn't it show up? it wraps up the story nicely and makes the newbie marine vomit

>> No.20384176

and youve been drinking again havent you?

>> No.20384193


But it adds nothing to the story, smacks of blatant wish fulfillment fantasy, treats the matter in a coarse and tacky manner, and isn't funny.

>> No.20384201


It's not 1 PM yet where I am, so no, not yet.

Well, one beer, but when you drink absinthe as often as I do, beer hits you as hard as water.

>> No.20384240

i put it there as a way to show more of those characters personalities, i based turner partly off solid snake, the heretek is based off something, and the marine is kind of their room mate and friend

>> No.20384249

i dont judge, you have your liquors and i have my weed

>> No.20384260


Quick question: are any of these three characters deliberately based, in whole or in part, on you and/or your friends in real life?

If so, start over.

>> No.20384286

not in the least, every character i make is usually based off no real person

if i based a character off one of my friends you either get funny stoner, quiet nerd, or metal head nerd all of which are bad character concepts

>> No.20384309

also i try putting as much humanity into characters as i can, things like, how they think, how would they react, and what their own goals are

>> No.20384334


For servants of the Chaos gods they seem...um...surprisingly nice to each other.

>> No.20384351

the main character is only around 35 years of age, as well, a brief stint in the imperial guard is all it takes to get totally ruined, and he lives/works with the heretek who saved him as a mutual what not, she saved his life, he keeps her alive, the marine is there as one botched mission can really make you dispassionate about something, ill probably make another story about her fixing up his bionics

>> No.20384374

when it comes down to it, no matter what colors a persons psyche they are still a person with needs and desires, they dont have to be saturday morning cartoon villains, hell, they dont even have to be evil, a slaneesh worshiper could be a very kind hearted school teacher and a tzeentch worshiper could be a man with one too many promotions

>> No.20384392


Yes, but where's the CHAOS?

These people have traded one intense religious dogma for another, not abandoned it entirely. Where is the Khornate bloodlust? The Tzeentchian treachery? The Slaaneshi impulsivity? The Nurglite...something?

For followers of the dark gods, they seem like they would bore said gods to tears.

>> No.20384419

there is extremes on every spectrum, a khorne berserker could be an honorable man but he still kills, by using too much grim dark in the imperium they made chaos a surprisingly appealing prospect, what if you didnt even join chaos and just acted as a rogue trader or even mercenary, chaos is just a banner used to draw more and more outcast or awakened individuals to a cause

>> No.20384420

Nurglites are actually very nice people.

...Still bathouse, bugfuck crazy though.

>> No.20384448

you can worship all, one, or none, the night lords out right ignore chaos, it does not matter what you do as long as you work toward something, a god honestly wouldn't care if you spend a day eating spray cheese as long as you are powerful, well slaneesh might care if you eat a lot of cheese, the emotion behind each god is what fuels them, a normal person would at some point feel anger at his boss, or plotting to propose to his wife, nurgle is prayers and pleas for safety, and slaneesh is that passion behind art and indulgence

>> No.20384451


Okay, this right here

This idea that Chaos is the faction of the enlightened, disenfranchised, antiestablishment outcast whatever

This needs to stop. Right now.

Sure, you might get a "reasonable" worshiper of a Chaos god now and then, but the Chaos gods don't like their reasonable worshipers. They like the fanatics. They go out of their way to turn their worshipers fanatical whenever possible. Take a look at the Chaos Daemons codex -- or the WHFB Chaos Daemons army book -- and see just which worshipers gain actual power from their membership in the Chaos cults.

Khorne doesn't give a fuck about honor. His concern is blood. The more blood is spilt, the happier he is. A worshiper of Khorne might start out honorable -- hell, Kharn the Betrayer did exactly that -- but it never lasts for any meaningful length of time.

The Chaos Space Marines are just as blind and dogmatic as the Imperium. Accept it.

>> No.20384471

It utterly depends on the inspiration.

But mostly in 40k at the least yes Chaos is very black, cookie cutter evil.

If we took the Fantasy spinnings of the chaos gods, it could be seen with a little more positive light because, well, Norse in fantasy are not all bad people.

>> No.20384506


The WHFB Warriors of Chaos are a bit nicer. This is true.

That doesn't make them actually nice. It just means they're nicer than the CSM, which is an extremely low bar.

>> No.20384507

do you honestly think that some one able to be thrown onto a front line of that kind of fighting would be sane? think of it like this, do you think the average citizen of the tau empire is a guy in a broad side suit? no, the average chaos worshiper is essentially the same as the average human in the imperium, they both pray to their gods, the difference is what they are willing to do, chaos armies are constantly growing as so many people are willing to fight for a cause they believe in, the normal humans form traitor guardsmen, they have cities to protect, entire forge worlds and hive worlds exist within the eye of terror, its like asking why a planet isnt entirely populated with marines

>> No.20384508


God, this, and I'm even a Chaos player.

People try to make them sound "misunderstood" when they're not.

Chaos is the most malevolent force in the universe. It has no time for honour or anything like that.

I play Word Bearers. They're not converting people from the Imperial Creed because the Imperial Creed is dogmatic and oppressive. They're converting people from it because they just HATE the Imperium. They don't give a fuck about the cultists. A cultist to them, is just one more person NOT following the Imperium.

Chaos is, in absolutely no way, good. There is no good in Chaos. It's driven ENTIRELY throug malevolence.

>> No.20384526

the table top games only show the most extreme and powerful each race can field, they never show what a hive city full of simple gangers can do because games workshop never delved into what the average guy does, some places people just work for factories and fuck the person next to them out of convience

also they never really made that middle ground a faction, people who dont worship chaos and simply want to be left the fuck alone

>> No.20384539


Your Tau analogy doesn't hold up. Tau are bred into a five-caste system. ALL Tau are bred into this five-caste system. All Tau of a given caste do the job they were born for. For the greater good. That's how castes work.

The average Fire-caste Tau IS a guy in a broadside suit.

And the cause of Chaos is "rip the eye of terror all the way open and unleash the Warp upon reality," so they kind of have to drive you mad to get you to believe in and fight for said cause.

>> No.20384541

or the value of human life is simply so low that a hulking murder machine is instantly deemed Mayor of Murder Town

>> No.20384553


It's because in 40k, that faction gets KILLED by one of the other ones. That faction exists, and it's called "dead".

The only exceptions to this are Exodite eldar, and they still get their shit fucked up pretty often.

The 40k universe is not a nice place to live.

>> No.20384560

thats not the cause, thats the goal, it is their goal to bring down the imperium, but their cause is fucking, killing, thinking, or spreading disease, they just fuel a flame by living their lives the way they want to

and keep in mind that the primarchs were generally fair and just rulers, except for curze

>> No.20384599

there is a lot of war, and the war has colored each faction, but to suggest that they still lack humanity and the ability to reason is insane, why do you think sorcerers are able to go so far with their life times? also cults exist with in the populations to summon them from the warp

>> No.20384614

>they kind of have to drive you mad to get you to believe in and fight for said cause
I doubt an average Chaos guy would really have as coherent an idea of his faction's goals as you say. This is more "goals of the chaos gods" territory, and I doubt the gods really care about their puppets' motivations as long as they pull the strings. Thus, I find it entirely plausible that there are servants of chaos who think of themselves as misunderstood freedom fighters or someshit like that.

>> No.20384621


But they weren't. The Primarchs were assholes. They were a great improvement over the 41st millennium, but seriously, read the Horus Heresy novels. The Primarchs were assholes. Rogal Dorn was ready to fucking kill Garro's ass when he brought word of Horus's fall. Before Horus fell, back when he was a shining exemplar of what a Primarch should be, he led a bloodthirsty pride-driven assault on Davin that led to his wounding. Magnus the Red was addicted to sorcery. Mortarion deliberately poisoned his best officers as a test to see if they could withstand it. And Angron was practically Khorne incarnate even before he fell under Khorne's sway at all.

In the grim darkness of the 31st millennium, EVEN YOUR HEROES ARE BASTARDS.

>> No.20384631

the armies of khorne are full of bat shit crazies but they can plan, the slaneesh armies probably fuck each other daily but also can still think, tzeentch only thinks, and nurgle laughs at the inevitable, those armies are just the crazies concentrated, chaos undivided has aspects of all but can also opt to just ignore it, they dont have to choose to become a demon prince, which is probably why kharn still is made of meat given how he has yet to be killed in the fluff

>> No.20384650

EVERYONE IS A BASTARD, but your blending military and the general public, if it worked like that we would have permanent nation service

>> No.20384651


The other note is that these Black Crusade characters are pulled FROM said batshit crazy armies. These are not average joes. These are not civilians. These ARE the brainwashed fanatics.

Write them accordingly. You wouldn't write an Imperium soldier without faith in the Emperor. Don't write a Chaos soldier without madness.

>> No.20384682

you are type casting, hell read the black crusade rule book, it out right says that they all behave differently, the only thing that matters is you get to have fun, other wise every one in the party would face fuck each other and steal their shit

>> No.20384691


This. The decline into darkness can be really interesting for someone falling, in the right context, but by the time they're a declared worshiper they're frothing at the mouth crazy. Ironically because that's the only way to stay sane when confronted with the realities of the galaxy and consorting with other chaos worshipers.

>> No.20384719

allow me to write about a berserker
and then hundreds died
the end
not that interesting

>> No.20384726


What I mean is that they trust each other far too much.

They each know what they're capable of. They each know what gods they serve. They each know what they could stand to gain from said gods if they betrayed their comrades. They may not be willing to do so themselves right now.

But that doesn't mean they don't think their "comrades" are as inhibited.

At the very least, these people should be paranoid and mistrustful of one another. And to a certain extent, that paranoia should probably be justified. It doesn't matter THAT you saved my life, what matters is WHY.

>> No.20384739

also anyone NOT worshipping the emperor is a heretic, neutral planets are bombarded with priest and hell fire until good old space hitler wins the day

>> No.20384757

Way to shit up a good thread, Mr Sprinkles. Judging from your writing style and personal anecdotes, you're clearly an immature child masquerading as an adult. Even reading your posts is giving me an aneurysm. Ever heard of a full stop? You might wat to throw a few between a few of your words. I hear they help with reading comprehension.

>> No.20384764

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.
The metallic sound of feet stepping and dragging across metal echoed through the hallway. The high ceiling was eager to repeat every clang it heard, but remained covered by smoke and darkness.

The whole hallway was dark, in fact. The ornaments on the walls barely visible to the human eye, the walls cracked and ruined by something that went on here long ago. A human would get lost here. Confused, by a sense of fear, his throat aching from the smoke and his organic eyes blinded by the darkness that wrapped the halls.

Daikh-Fer was no human. Yet he still sensed a feel of dread around this place.
"Silent. It's so silent. The outside is silent, the inside is silent. What did they do to this place?" A metallic voice rang throghout the corridor to their right. It turned the corner to the left and repeated "Place place place...place...".

Daikh-Fer turned his head right to see a huge, green eye stare at him. Venchain, a necron deathmark was looking at him.
"Something." He replied. "I'm not sure what they did. They did something, that's for sure. No organic life. None. The whole planet's a wasteland. One, huge wasteland."

It wasn't Tyranids, Daikh-Fer knew. It was the work of Eldar. What did they do to this planet, though? Why would they just leave after purging it of organic life? Were they afraid to leave trace what they did in this planet? Were they afraid of something?

It didn't matter now. The whole planet was silent when they landed. The only sounds, were the metallic cling clangs and voices of the necrons. Then came the firing. They heard it on their fifth day. Bolter fire, Daikh-Fer knew. There were humans on the planet. What were they firing at, though? The entire necron force was under the command of Lord Khairyk, and they stayed together. There was some other force on the planet. Or some other thing.

>> No.20384776

well the marine could at any point take the ship from them, but he simply has no reason to do so as he would probably realize he just chucked out the captain and the only person who can fix the fucking thing, also two people who have sex with each other often enough tend to think with their reproductive organs instead, the 3 of them in that ship is the most beneficial arrangement and the easiest

>> No.20384805

i hardly doubt you even read the thread you are posting in, i out right admit that was the very first time i ever wrote a fucking story, and who gives a fuck what you want, my opinion could be the same as yours, you are a man child crying for moms tit

and here is a fun reminder of what website you are on

>> No.20384849


The hallway opened up to a room with a ceiling even higher. The metallic clangs stopped for a second, and Daikh-Fer lowered his gauss flayer to look around. The room was littered with debris from the broken and burned metallic ceiling. Daikh-Fer looked up. There was a huge hole in the ceiling, revealing a purple sky. Daikh-Fer heard bolter fire once again. Further, down the corridors. There was nowhere to go from here but through the large entrance ahead of them, leading into another corridor of metal.

"It's unnerving" said Venchain, his voice so loud in the silence that it almost made Daikh-Fer jump.

"Yes...you didn't happen to hear anything else, did you? Besides the gunfire." Replied Daikh-Fer.

"No. I'm sure they'll come look for us." if Venchain could smile, he would have put a supporting smile on his face.

A fake smile, Daikh-Fer knew. Noone will come look for them. They're trapped inside a metal tomb. Just like it began. But there were humans in this dungeon. They must've entered through another entrance that the necrons didn't see from their side. That would've meant salvation for the three necrons, if they would only get past whoever is opening fire.

"Let's move on. There is nothing here." Another green eye emerged from the darkness behind Daikh-Fer and Venchain. A necron cryptek shambled towards them.

"Very well." Nodded Daikh-Fer. The necrons moved out again, the sound of their metal feet filling the hallways.

>> No.20385012


Silence, though Daikh-Fer. It's all there is to this planet. What did we come here for? All we found here was dead sile-

"Fight with blood! Fight with steel! Die with honor, nev-" Suddenly rang through the hallway, a slightly melodic sound of metal churning and words coming out, but not pleasant to Daikh-Fer at all. He turned his head to Venchain.

"What are you doing?" He interrupted.

"Singing" Replied Venchain, resting his disintegrator on his shoulder.

"Singing. Tell me, Venchain, where did you learn to sing?"

"The humans. The red ones, Daikh. Remember that one with the sword that cut up half of your guard before I shot him in the head?"

"Yes...I do recall that." Daikh-Fer answered slowly. He was not sure wether Venchain saw that death as a favor. In war, there are no favors. You phase out while saving your fellow necrons and nobody's ever going to thank you for it or give you a shining medal. It's war, that's what you're supposed to do.

"He was singing that. I heard him and I repeated his words as I lined up the shot." Venchain told him.

"That's...nice. Just...however much I despise this silence, keep it down. We want to hear them" Daikh-Fer pointed towards the end of the corridor, where gunfire was still ringing now and then. "Not for them to hear us."

They went for another minute or two in complete silence. Every now and then a shot of bolter fire echoed around them. It made Daikh-Fer nervous. He would like to see the purple sky again before he phases out.

>> No.20385037


"You know, the humans eat their own kind." A metal growl emerged from Venchain, said in disgust.

"They do not. That is false." Spoke the cryptek. Daikh-Fer didn't know his name. He had never met the cryptek untill they got split off the army and got trapped inside here.

"You're false. I saw it. Just today." Venchain replied.

"What? What did you see? Why didn't you tell me!" Daikh-Fer lashed out at Venchain. His shout echoed and rang throghout the halls "Me...me....me". Venchain is supposed to report to him. Everything he sees, every little sign of any activity. And he's mentioning it now.

"I wanted to, Daikh. But you told me to go with you and say not a word, when you lead us out here. You said Khairyk himself comm-"

"Khairyk is a fool. I told him not to go here, but he..." Daikh-Fer couldn't hold the rage he had for both Venchain and Khairyk at the moment. Fools, both of them.

"You'd be wise not to speak against our lord and leader, false lord." Spoke the cryptek. The last words were said with such spite that Daikh-Fer wanted to punch him right and there. Instead, he turned his head to face the green eye of Venchain.

"Tell me. Now. Quick. What did you see."

"A human. He was hunched over a corpse of a red one, munching on him. Two of his buddies stood besides him, laughing and pointing. I would've shot them all, but you told me only to scout."

"A human...human's aren't cannibals, Venchain...they're...Wait, were both of them red?" Daikh-Fer knew something very wrong was going on.

"Kind of. One was kind of pink? Maybe?" Venchain said unsurely.

>> No.20385122


"Pink. One of them was pink. And munching on a red one. Venchain, you're an idiot." Daikh-Fer growled in contempt.

"Chaos" thougt Daikh-Fer. That's what the humans were fighting. Unless Venchain's eye is busted badly, the humans he saw were something else. Daikh-Fer didn't know all of the colors of the human armor, let alone the chaos-worshiping humans. He had heard about the pink ones, though. Servants to their god of pleasure. Does pleasure include eating their enemies? That Daikh-Fer didn't know. It was a long time ago he felt pleasure.

"Nevermind. We'll tell Khairyk once we're out. We WILL get out, Venchain,...Cryptek. Follow me. The gunfire is close now." said Daikh-Fer and turned his back to the two necrons behind him. The two just looked at eachother and followed him without question.

"False lord...I'm more of a lord than that idiot Khairyk that bosses me around." thought Daikh-Fer. "No you're a lord, Daikh-Fer! Just...one with less privileges and with a single scout and a guard force at your command instead of a bloody army! It's not your fault what happened with those Lychguards..."

Daikh-Fer saw it clear as today. His flayer hitting a lychguard straight in his head as he was turned around. Again. And again. His friend reacting, shouting something...A hyperphase sword coming to Daikh-Fer's throat before he parried with his flayer. The sword cutting the flayer in half, Daikh-Fer wrestling the Lychguard to the ground.

Khairyk let Daikh-Fer keep the title of lord. Then Khairyk himself got demoted to lord. However, his word as overlord stayed and Daikh-Fer was not served any further justice. That did not stop people calling him false-lord, though. That's what he found most infuriating. If only they knew that what Khairyk was doing would rip the whole planet apart and sentence thousands upon thousands of necrons to...inexistance.

>> No.20385298

(Are you shitting me. I accidentally a shitload of writing. Oh well)

It didn't matter now. Daikh-Fer now only wanted to see the purple sky again, to hear the scolding of Khairyk, to see his guard again and to punch Venchain in the face.

And then he came at him. Daikh-Fer didn't even expect it. Even Venchain didn't see the human, hiding in the darkness.

"Haargh!" Roared the human, lifting his chainsword up in the air and sliced it downwards with fury. It would've sliced Daikh-Fer's shoulder right off, but he jumped backwards and landed on his feet, activating his flayer.

He aimed the flayer at the human's face."They all die when you shoot them enough." he thougt. The human stopped in confusion, as Venchain and the cryptek emerged from behind Daikh-Fer. The human then dropped his chainsword as he felt his helmet shaking and coming apart. Little by little, his helmet was being ripped apart, pieces of it melting and flying away. The paint, wether red of pink, was gone completely.

The human felt his face in agony and covered it with his hand. In anger, he raised his other hand and aimed his bolter pistol at Daikh-Fer. The shot, even under these circumstances, was quite accurate as it hit Daikh-Fer in the chest. Daikh-Fer had worse. He had way worse before. This little tick was nothing.

Daikh-Fer aimed for the human's face again, but stopped as he heard a loud "Whoosh" to his right and saw the human's face explode in blood and flesh. Half of the human's face wa gone, his blood running down the blood red armor. Daikh-Fer could see clearly now. This human was one of the red ones.

>> No.20385525

Alright, that's it for me today.
I have no idea why I even wrote all of this shit.
Any criticism? Besides "You suck ass, stop writing."

>> No.20385547

Reading this reminded me of a kid narrating a play fight.

>> No.20385632


The fight has its weaknesses, but that's mainly because narrating a fight never works particularly well if you go blow-by-blow. Be vague. Give just enough detail to give the reader a rough idea of how the fight is progressing. The only part that needs detail is the beginning and the end, or any particularly crucial turning points.

Other than that, I liked it.

>> No.20387191

>games workshop never delved into what the average guy does
Isn't there a pnp game called Necromunda that is all about life in a Hive World?

>> No.20387218

Holy fuck was that ass.

>> No.20387251

While the actual content of his books is up for debate, I remember RA Salvatore being a able to write a pretty damn good fight scene, so it might be a good idea to read up on some of his books.

>> No.20387302

He grumbled to himself as the rain finally let up. The Corporal didn't know why the Emperor needed this mudhole, but then again, his was not to question why, his- ah, fug it, everyone knew the rest.

Pulling back the hood of his poncho, he fiddled at a belt pouch for several moments before fishing out a pack of lho sticks and his standard-issue lighter. As he slid the paper tube between his lips, he watched the mist slide in. Well, at least he could set his chrono by the weather on this hellhole. 0400, sun comes up. 0430, rain starts. 0900, rain stops. 0902, mist rolls in. 0940, rain kicks in again. 1150, rain stops. 1200, sun sets. Rinse and repeat. Like fugging clockwork.

He grumbled again, flicking the lighter in the moist air. He always had this problem, unlike his fugging trenchmates. After the sergeant caught a lasbolt in the eye and the commissar experienced the joys of fyceline firsthand thanks to a cultist, Jekk and Sal had taken to shacking up in the officers' dugout. He knew they had started growing something in there, he just had no idea what. The smell of the smoke that drifted out of the chimney gave it away, though. That and the rather animalistic grunting. At this point, the Corporal didn't care. If the heretics didn't get them, the Brass would probably put them down for some dereliction of duty anyway, so they may as well have their fugging fun. And speaking of fun...

Setting aside his lho stick for a moment, he checked his chrono. Ah, right on time.

>> No.20387380

Brushing off some of the muck he had been sitting in, the Corporal pulled the laud hailer out of its case and checked the power. Nodding, he stepped up onto the trench's firing step and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

"Corpse worshiping fools!" He grinned as he heard the call from the opposite trench.

"Heretic scum!" Now, he only had to wait a few-

"...Is it bigger than an ammunition crate?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Made out of metal?"


"Right. I'll get back to you tomorrow."

"Sure thing, but that's two for today, making your total thirteen. Think you can get it in seven, heretic?"

"You bet your ass, fugging loyalist."

Chuckling, the Corporal shut down the laud hailer and settled back into his seat- little more than a glorified hole in the mud. Life in the Guard on this Emperor-forsaken planet might not be the best, but it had its moments. Seizing up his lighter and lho sticks again, he contemplated the strange relationship he had fostered with the cultist in the other trench. Neither of their commanders seemed to be paying any attention to this front, so they had taken to shouting daily insults at one another. The game had simply evolved from that.

The screaming of turbofans overhead brought his attention. The dark shapes of aircraft shot through the mist.

"Great. Going to kick over the anthill, I'm sure."

Shrugging, he set back to trying to light the tube, giving a small shout of triumph as a spark finally caught.

(Damn. Almost finished.)

>> No.20387408

Taking a relaxing drag on the burning plant matter, he sighed. Sometimes, things were okay on thi-

With a disheartening plop, followed by a reluctant sizzle, a fat drop of rain landed on the tip of his lho stick. Grumbling, the Corporal pulled his poncho's hood over his head once more and spit the ruined stick out onto the mud. Retrieving another, he sighed again, resigning himself to yet another wet day.

"Yep. Just another day in the Imperial Guard. Hi-ho-diddley-fug."

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