Now with more Dreadnaughts, Ogryns and Cadians oh my.
(This is now a general Warhammer 40K Veeky Forums sentimental writefaggotry thread in addition to the ongoing Krieg themed works.)
Past Threads: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com
Authors please try to include your pastebin in your first post of the thread, and we can shove them in the OP of subsequent threads.
Big thank you to our OG OP BataviAnon for getting this feel train rolling weeks ago. Choo Choo.
Cog and Krieg: pastebin.com
The feedline issued a few more weak spurts into Miria's lap. Nearby, some of the bird analogues that had flown away as the wurm approached could be heard returning to the nearby trees, tittering and cawing.
From the other side of the corpse, a saw could be faintly heard, buzzing away.
"...Oh. My. God Emperor." Miria said. "You're s-serious."
Beta and Alpha looked at each other for a moment, the signature Krieg gesture of incomprehension. "Our training was focused-"
"No. Sh-shut up." Miria snapped, looking around within arm's reach. She spotted a small vascular plant, with a simple blue blossom atop a narrow stem. She yanked it from the earth and held it under Alpha's rebreather.
"What. Is. This?" She demanded.
"...A plant." He stated flatly.
"What is its n-name?" Miria shook it at him.
"Frau Enginseer, this world is uncharted. This plant has no name." Said Beta.
+Technically correct. The most frustrating kind.+
"If you s-saw this on K-Krieg what would you call it?" She asked.
"We would not."
"Not what? Name it? Are you telling me that s-since people on Krieg don't get names t-the plants don't either? Has anyone ever told you y-your people are INSANE?" Miria's eyes darted between both of them, still futily looking for some sign that maybe this was all some horrid attempt at jest. She had, after all, yet to see what passed for humor on Krieg.
"See it." Alpha clarified. "There are no plants on Krieg."
+...What? How...+
"N-none?" Her eyes widened.
"Not since-" Alpha seemed to hesitate for a moment. "-not for many generations."
Miria began to feel that sensation again. The one she had felt when they had all first met. Something dark. Deep, deep beyond her ability to see was clawing at the back of her mind. Wrong. Wrong. Everything about them was wrong. A race of people with no names, from a world with no biosphere. Why had she never seen any of the crew's faces? Why did she so badly want to forget the one face she had seen?
"...I'm s-sorry." She said, looking away from their glass eyes. "T-this is a flower. Specifically a-any plant with a fruiting body or b-bud like this on the top, nearly a-always colorful." She pinched off the petals and placed them in the commander's hand. "I n-need samples from them."
Alpha placed the petals in his breast pocket and rose from his crouch. "Understood."
After a few moments more of uncomfortable staring, and Beta turned as well, walking off to find Gamma.
Miria shivered, though the rain was not at all cold.
Sure enough, draping the camo tarp over the rib bones had created a makeshift trough beneath the guns that quickly filled with rainwater. Miria tried not to think about how much the jutting rib bones resembled tusks.
The twin Stormhammer's burned for a full three seconds, right up until the barrels began to steam as the rain vaporized on impact with their housing. Delta lowered the angle of the guns until they dipped into the makeshift pool beneath them, enveloping the turret in a cloud of haze. Mounds of flesh sloughed off the carcass, revealing massive ropey tubules that served some function Miria couldn't guess at. Fortunately, almost all organisms had only one digestive tract, multiple stomachs occasionally, but still connected to just the one long big tube.
"S-see? Just don't drive so f-fast all the water falls out."
"It is functional." Said Delta over the vox.
+Probably the highest praise I'm going to get.+
Three more shots like that and they had found it. The creature's powerful digestive acids had already gone to work, to be expected from an animal that swallowed its prey whole with little to no chewing. That pushed this organism into the category of sedentary ambush predator. Long periods of inactivity followed by a kill, then a lengthy digestion that made full use of all the materials it had consumed.
The pod's hull was tarnished from the beginnings of acidic scoring, and the hard edges and exposed rivets had already begun to smooth out. The Imperial Aquila's gold plating had eroded almost entirely, exposing its inner brass surface. Somewhat shoddy workmanship, to be expected perhaps of a civilian free trader. It was quite possible this creature might have fully digested the pod, given enough time. As it stood, Miria used her servo arm to drag the pod free of the stinking mass of flesh where it could get rained on a bit and let the acid and gore wash off.
Experimentally, Miria banged on the hull twice with her mechadendrite, and received a faint double bang in return.
"T-the occupant is alive! And conscious!"
She and Gael tried the automatic hatch release, it was disappointingly unresponsive. The pod was rated for hard vacuum and even minor explosions and micrometeoroid impact, but it was designed to be opened easily by rescue crews. The backup mechanical release involved pulling a latch that triggered a series of explosive bolts, no electronics required, to blow the door off after a short delay. Miria grabbed the lever and gave it a yank, falling over even though she had been waiting for it as the hatch flew off and slid down the creature's ruined side. Alpha and Beta had their rifles at the low ready, presumably in case the person inside tried to attack them.
+There's vigilance, there's paranoia, and then there's pointing guns at escape pods.+
"What ina' stankin' treasonous bowels o' Goge Frakkin Vandire took yun sa long? I been fixin' ta go mad in'ere with ya'll yammerin an hammerin away!"
A hulking bear of a man with a wild looking mane of red hair and beard heaved himself from the pod's recesses, leaping off the lip of the hatchway into the slick forest floor. And promptly fell over, cursing. He was clad in a personal void suit, sans helmet, albeit one adorned with all manner of jangling trinkets and baubles. In place of the helmet, he had an enormous wide brimmed hat, with one side of the brim vertical and affixed to the crown by what Miria belatedly recognized as a badge of office for a Chartered Merchant Captain. She had seen them once or twice before, on the breast or at the hip of men who would sometimes visit the Temple at the behest of the High Proctor or the Fabricator Locum. Pallas had few methods available to it to transport their Magi to other solar systems, and contracting free captains who plied the sector in trade had been one of their preferred methods. Despite the limited facilities and budget of the Pallasian Admech, the Fabricator Locum insisted that they carry out 'all the duties and operations of a Forgeworld in microcosm, including the dispatch of Explorator teams to further the quest for knowledge.'
From the mud, he wiped his face with his sleeve. Miria saw he was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. "Ah been blown up an ate in th' same damn day."
He looked around, finally taking in the scene before him. "Aw hell. Gasmasks. So ya'll are what Cap'n McKeon were transportin. Ah 'spect yun ain't afeared them greenskins none, so there's that." A smirk tugged at the edges of his mouth. "Ah'm a mite put off ya'll even took th' time ta fetch me."
(Waifu story)
88c walked down the barracks of the 645 second company it was interesting, 88c thought. But as a condemmed woman everything had a different light to it.
88c accepted her death, she's accepted it since the day she was spawned, all the kriegers have, but that was always a "Hopefully soon" kind of deal. It was different then actually knowing that you would never see the inside of your sleeping gear again.
She looked at the copper monolith vault overhead, the reddish sand she stepped on, it looked so peaceful... which was improper given that it was a warzone. The fact she saw less dead in the guard then off it was a odd realization. Irritating. Puzzling.
The krieger wandered the tents, looking for the Commissar's it was best to do it quickly. Unfortunately doing so involved going past the firing range.
88c watched the Catachan Sargent take his shots, Lascarbine firing into another ork corpse, the bleeding corpse's chest riddled with small holes where the las hit it enough to bore through the skin. The man grinned, slinging the rifle on his back as he noticed the diminutive depressed digger.
"Oi gassy, back to stalk me again?" The man tilted his head back. "Wait what the hecks wrong with you, I didn't even think Kriegers could slump, thought they shoved those shovels of yours up your arses so you can't bend."
Steam hisses from your mask. How rude! He isn't THAT far off but still, can't he feel sorry for her, on the last day of her life. You thought these offworld guys were supposed to be romantic and offer people freeze cream and deweaponized flora. Honestly this is why catachans are wow that guy is a lot closer then he was five seconds ago.
"Are you getting down with the sniffles or something." The Sargent says placing a hand on her mask, "You feel awfully warm and given this place used to be occupied by traitors disease outbreaks aren't impossible."
So, about the Krieger for Towergirls...
The dowries suggested last thread were one of the Proctor's fear-suppressing gas masks, and the Kriegers' own personal trench shovel.
But does anybody remember the Commissar story from the original L&K? In it, the commissar gives the Krieger his own gas-mask when she loses hers just before a gas attack. When she starts following him around like a puppy, it turns out lending someone your gasmasks is a heart-felt declaration of eternal love for a krieger. I think the Krieg-girl's own gasmask would be a far better dowry.
Also, clearly the Krieger wants a sweet, gentle introduction to love-making, not rough sex/bdsm. And bare skin is new and intriguing to her.
...
88c knocks the hand away. "Unit is functioning optimally." The krieger hissed, wait this was her last day alive and the company did not have a confessor, she should say something meaningful to him so she can confessor for him.
"Listen, unit is apologetic for unwanted surveillance." The Catachan nods but 88c continue before he can continue. "And for making disparaging comments on your effect on my olfactory senses. And for confiscating your used drying apparatus during daily sanitation rituals."
"Wait your the loon that stole my towel?" The Sargent glared. "What the Soritas's ripped for her pleasure chainblade did you do that for?"
88c waved a hand in the air. "Research purposes. It is against protocol to interrupt. Proceeding." 88c thought on the towel, she procured the raggity red item in hopes to discover how his skin always held moisture regardless of how long it's been to skin to water contact. Results were inconclusive. Puzzling, yet rewarding.
"Unit further is apologetic for borrowing your lascarbine, using the weapon in recreational activities rather then immediately returning it. And finally unit 88c is sorry for ensnaring you within her malicious web of avarice endearment and false aesthetic pinnacles." 88c bowed. "Unit is finished and will now report to the commissar.
88c scampered off, steam trailing from her mask as the sargent blinked, thumbing through the dictoral section of the Uplifting Primer.
"Let's see here, Dictatium Administratium, Kanak... here we are, how to speak Krieg... " The sargent mumbled as he attempted to decipher the weird girl's ramblings....
"Oi did this cocky cunt just admit she's going to get herself executed for being criminally cute? That cheeky bugger." The sargent ran after the girl.
"Imbeciles, children, and loons. Why can't the guard ever recruit someone as well adjusted and civilized like meself?" The man muttered.
Commissar Cicartus von Unterbrechan thumbed through the dataslate.
A giant of a man, Unterbrechan left coatarm dangled uselessly, a single brown eye trailing through the lines of the dataslate.
"The Amore et Krieg?" The commissar rasped, placing the dataslate down and reaching for a copper tin within his greatcoat, flipping the lid open to reveal a set of flower petals.
"Lovely aren't they? Consecrated with the blessed waters of Holy Terra, they are particularly fragile in the face of the witch's foulness." The man placed a petal on the slate the pink petal sitting peacefully upon the mechanical device.
"This is not the work of any foulness of the psyker 88c." The man said, his face a patchwork of burns and scars pursed into a single lipless line. "Therefore the rot does not lie within this, tale of fancy."
The krieger gulped doing her best to shrink under her chair, it... wasn't cursed? Then that just meant... she was naturally cute? The implications were horrifying. Then, just on her own she could make the catachan do... do those THINGS HE DOES.
A sharp cough interrupted the krieger. "Now then." The man drew out the report of treason that 88c filled out for herself, eye turned away from the woman to the paper. "You report your symptons as?"
The krieg nodded. "I believe my cuteness has robbed Sargent Tear of his reason. This was the fault of my own avarice and materialistic failings."
The commissar noted. "Ah yes, the Glamour de Bellus, a popular technique of the Lord of Excess's bloated brood of perversions. And you say you have signs of this compromise?"
The krieg paused... in hindsight this seems a awful lot like Tear was going to get shot, that was unintentional. But they are orders, she must comply. "Yes, shortly after third ration, two days prior, Sargent Tear was coerced into... applying his fingers to my helm and issuing unnecessary commendations to my person!"
The commissar crossed the sign of the Aquilla. "By the throne."
Steam hissed from the krieger's mask. "There is more." She whispered.
The commissar leaned in, face devoid of any mirth. "No."
The krieg shook her head. "That same day the Sargent misplaced his lascarbine. And when I went back the next day, he stated the previous detraction did not count because he only touched my helmet. Implying he desired... skin to skin contact."
The Commissar muttered a prayer. "Clearly the rot has sunken deeper then either of us have anticipated." The commissar rose from his seat, laspistol hanging from his waist. "Alright then, let us retrieve this Sargent of yours."
"COMMISSAR HOLD ON A BLOODY MINUTE." The catachan ran into the room, muscular chest heaving with exertion.
"NOW this bloody idiot in a gasmask is going to tell you she is possesed by some, oh look shes aint shot yet cool, anyway she think she's possesed by some mind altering cuteness or whatever but I want to point out something."
The man pointed at the krieger. "This shorty is the dumbest motherfucker I ever laid eyes on and I played cards with ogryns. You don't go shoot those big blokes just because they thought they killed you when they blinked to long right? So you ought to spare this lass even though she's clearly off her rocker, she's not off it in a heretical way or anything."
"Are you finished?" The commissar rasped as the man shook his head.
"Just getting started mate, you see not only is she stupid but this crazy lass is a crazy good shot, and of course that means nothing if she was a proper heretic but shes just not right in the head and all, its not like she don't think the Emperor is a right bloke or nothing she just thinks shes cuter then she is."
"Unit's intelligence is not lacking." 88c muttered.
"And another thing!" The Sargent yelled. "You see um... er... yeah I'm done."
The commissar nodded. "Very compelling argument but one can not be lenient in the face of treachery."
The commissar pointed a gnarled finger at the Krieg. "Infantrywoman 645-88c, for attempting to subvert the ranks of the Astra Millitarium you will be removed from your squad and integrated into Sergeant Richand Tear's, you must bolster yourself in this advesary and remain stalwart against temptation.
The main pointed at the Sergeant, "That goes for you too Sergeant, these are serious charges, and should such incidents continue you must report it to me IMMEDIATELY. As a recently absorbed regiment I understand cohesion can be difficult but failures of the self is the weapon of the heretic and the xenos. Dismissed."
The krieger scampered off as the catachan blinked. "But wait sir, that's it? You ain't gonna blow anybody's head off?"
Commissar Unterbrechan would have raised a eyebrow if he still had them. "Do you wish for me to blow your head off." As the Sergeant shook his head the commissar pointed out the door. "Then you will survive, and understand the Emperor's mercy all the more for it. Dismissed."
The sergeant trundled off, the Commissar watching them disappear from view with his single lidless eye, watching the two figures shrink among the sea of tents before collapsing to the floor.
"Oh emperor. Too cute she says." The commissar rolled on the floor laughing, dust tracking on his great coat.
"Oh it hurts, everything hurts. Her boyfriend even tries to, emperor have mercy." The man slams his hand on the dirt floor. "I can't, too cute." The man chortled, coughing as he crawled to his desk.
"I have to call Annrietta, she'll flip." The commisarr crawled his way to the desk, still giggling as he dialed his fellow commissar.
"Annrietta, are you alone, I need to divulge a confidential matter. Look your ogryn story can wait you will not believe the report this Krieger gave me."
And on that I go to bed, you guys have better liked that it took forever... relatively at least.
I fucking knew the captain would survive. I mean he still has his date to go on. Can't let down a lady, now can he?
Course he made it. We need him alive so he can educate Miria about gasmasks.
That was pretty damn fun, liked the tie-in at the end. Your characterisation is spot-on and the dialogue is superb. It could maybe be formatted a little better but that's an extremely minor quibble compared to what we got.
That seemed like a pretty natural ending but if you felt like doing more I wouldn't complain in the slightest.
Ya'll tards forgot to link the last thread, and link in the last thread, that might be a blaming.
For those confused about how the stating of the Warhammer gals goes, heres an example sheet. i'll leave it for yall to decide over until the end of the day before taking whatever suggestions you give and compiling them into her card, based on whats popular or what makes the most sense
FUCK YEAH, CAP'N STILL ALIVE UP IN HERE! And the dude has the best damn story to tell when he gets home, hopefully with a certain SOB with him, dis gon b gud.
Posting from last thread.
Death Korps of Krieg.
Krieger/grenadier chan.
Soldier of the imperium.
+Completely devoted to her commander.
+A curious girl, inquisitive about these new...feelings.
+Has thousands of clone-siblings to fight with her
+/- Has no idea of what smut is.
- Eschews wealth or glory, as that is what doomed her planet.
Love #-#-#-#
Lust #
Wealth
Power #-#-#-#
Artifacts.
Krieger mask.
Negate all morale or emotion based issues when Item is in use.
Trench shovel(does... something?)
Superheavy artillery battery.
Destroy any target object with #-#-# or lower.
Sounds legit, I want to leave my Kriger girl panting and clinging to me at the end of the night. Then snuggle up together while balls deep....damn, I made myself sad now.
>Literally needs to use a guide to translate cute Krieg girls ramblings
this is why I like the thing you write.
This commissar is taking the piss...right?
Oh god, the commissars are in on the shenanigans, this is fucking gold.
They will never know.
The commissar's are the funnest to come up with because there canon alternatives are overthetop badasses so I get to play that out here.
'Commissah' Annrietta was always around the 645, while Commissar Cicartus was absorbed alongside the catachan regiment. This gives you the kindof idea of what they have had to go through and their personalities.
One specializes in diplomacy and reads the tactics of her idols like Yarrick and Ciaphas, the other has the job of herding incredibly surly cats.
Incidentally Cicartus got his scars from shoving his left arm in a carnifex and detonating a melta grenade.
The xeno's hide was tough enough to protect him from the worst of the blast but not the alien's internal organs. He still looks like that because he refused cybernetics, referring it as a waste of funds.
This is actually really good.
What if the trench shovel can "Be used to automatically liberate one Solider from enemy lines, ignoring fortifications."
Badass and funny.
I maintain it should be her own, personal gas mask.
But user, then she wouldn't have one. Unless it's her spare mask.
Maybe shes one of those rebellious Kriegers who hang out with the other regiments and get influenced by the wrong type of crowds. Like the cadians.
As if our girl could be anything so heretical. If anyone's going to be corrupting the Krieger it's going to be us.
Anyway my pastebin was asked for here it is, ignore whatever isnt 40ky thats for a different thing.
is the non 40ky stuff good?
No, because its for a pokemon quest.
If you look at it your going to find info docs you dont really care about.
It's a romantic nod to the origina L&K. She knows it's against regulations; that's how much she loves you.
Here is a rough idea.
I want to protect her the entire time we are fighting the Emperor's enemies, get garrison duty, move in together, make pic related and have it feel like a real home for her. We can even put a little trench outside and barbed wire around the sandbags.
Id say
>4 love
>1 lust
>3 tech and 3 power
seem more of an even arrangement
Fetishes - gentle, clothed
Dislikes - deviancy
>Dislikes - Too much deviancy(knows the signs of heretical extremes, but anything before that she is as innocent as can be. Might be very willing to learn if she enjoys it.)
There we go, fixed it m8.
prolly cant fit that much into a single worded dislike mate-o
Turn offs- Everything. Herself.
Simplified it.
>Dislikes - Heresy(Knows only as much as she was told about it)
How about this.
Turn offs are a separate thing, and that would only count until she gives you her mask. Then the fun can start...well it can start and she really enjoys it then...eventually.
"But mimikyu she can't hate EVERYTHING.
Lets make her dislikes heresy!"
Pick one. If it exists its heretical, if it doesnt exist its even more heretical because imagination is the path of the witch.
They aren't that stupid, otherwise they wouldn't be able to fight with other regiments as the standard tactic to deal with something they hate/is heretical/ect, is to shoo the ever living shit out of it...or shank it with a shovel. They also need to meet the minimum requirement to function around others if they suffer the fate known as Garrison duty.
shoot it* shooing is reserved for the random ogryn that wanders into the command tent.
I thought there was a famous inquisitor quote that basically said "Everythings heretical" but what do i know I tend to miss things.
But I do recall krieg's command staff is entirely auxillary for that reason. The krieg do not have the mental flexibillity for the diplomatic waters of high command.
This is also why you do not see a krieg inquisitor, beyond such a thing being horrifying.
So many exterminatus.
Uh dude, no. You have no idea what you are talking about do you? Their Commissars are non-krieg, same as every other regiment, but the command staff are Kriegers. Now there may be no Krieg inquisitors, but there are Krieg Colonels Majors and Generals. I'm kinda getting sick of you coming in here and spewing your opinions when you clearly have no idea what you're talking about and haven't done any research beyond maybe taking a peek at a wiki.
Not only do you frequently propose things that aren't compatible with canon, in the past when anons have pointed out that the books do not support what you have to say you've essentially said "well that is stupid" and proceeded to ignore it. You aren't an authority, despite your trip, and unlike the other write fag you haven't even bothered to do your research.
Now that's fine for just having a giggle, which is all what you've written is good for, but you really need to stop trying to shove your misconceptions down other user's throats.
"Staff officers and flag officers are usually seconded from other Imperial Guard regiments or from the Imperial noble classes that provide much of the Imperial Guard's upper echelons and these positions are often retained as hereditary entitlements. Krieg officers, who are dedicated to the Death Korps' narrow doctrine of attritional warfare, are generally considered incapable of performing the political and diplomatic roles required for the staff officers or commanding officer of an Imperial Guard army command."
I'll see your wiki reference and raise you a page from the primary source book.
I just realized that sounded like I was contradicting him. Supporting evidence my bad.
The everything is heretical is a quote from a know lunatic Inquisitor(pre clean up), its a meme in their universe, or as close to a meme as they know about. Hell the guy has nothing to do with the Krieg anyways, why did you think that.
Basically this.
kek
You have no idea how much of a reply I deleted.
Look I get I do not have much Warhammer literature but I DO try, do you know how long it took me just to write the backstory of "What kindof drill would a ogryn have?".
I do have parts wrong, like my Medal of Sufficiency, but the stuff I say that I've been contradicted on is more on the other peoples stories not the actual canon.
Cause while my interpretation of the vitae womb is off, Krieg is mostly left to our imagination.
Do people think I don't try?
The claim wasn't "Krieger's think everything is heretical." The joke was "Everything is heresy so the two words are synonyms". It's still wrong but that's the answer to your question.
why did you think that* was relevant?
Meh, just tunnel vision and overthinking about justifying what you write, and the cursory understating of the universe being annoying as well though, past that pretty good....the double space typing being a waste of space and spreading out your text unnecessarily not withstanding.
I'm sorry. I kinda feel like shit now. I don't mean to say you don't try, and I suppose I was overly confrontational, and I apologize, it's just sometimes you are really insistent about things that are not quite right and I'm autistic. It rustles my jimmies and i let that make me into an ass, and i shouldn't have. You are of course entitled to your own interpretation, and no one is perfect, so it's understandable. I mean i make mistakes too, I made one when when I called you out. You were right, there are staff officers seconded to the Krieg from other regiments, and the practice is common. It's just in the books I had read the Generals were Kriegers, and I acted without thinking and let my temper get ahead of me. I hope you'll forgive me. I don't mean to say I think you put no effort into your work, it's quite enjoyable and I'm sure that takes some effort, I just fell into the classic blunder of Veeky Forums and started a shit show that really wasn't necessary.
Well evidently I can't fix most of that because I can't find any books besides the Horus herasy series (Which predates krieg) and one Commissar Cain book.
I can get some of that, as mentioned before I have found that my fake medal doesn't exist, and I'm sure I made more impossibilities, but I don't remember most of them.
It's difficult cause these things take hours (Well as a lump sum) and if all they are good for is being mildly amusing I can just go for one liners.
They are better for more than just a little amusement. I rather enjoy them and I look forward to seeing you update I just...look I take lore to seriously for my own good alright? I got kicked out of my LGS for arguing with a guy about tech priests like some sort of retard. I had been trying really hard to hold it in and not do anything cause I didn't want to shit up the thread or stop you writing, but I've been having a bit of a bad day and when I came in and saw that I just kinda lost it. Hurray autism.
But if you wanted to read the books you could find the pdfs in the Mega in the 40k general. Dead Men walking, Down Amongst the dead men, all the Siege of Vraks, one or two of the Cain novels, and Fall of Orpheus for latest rules. Unless the mega is down. I think it might have been, I only go in there when I need to download books and I haven't been in for a while. That place is bad for my sanity and blood pressure.
I forgot those were options, I'll give them a look. Thanks.
I'm mainly concerned because of how utterly my story is character driven.
I mean there is sort of a plot, in the same not really way a lot of comedies do. It's not like I got any action scenes or suspense, if the characters are boring or inaccurate to the setting that's really all I have. If its off then its just some weird nonsensical space ripoff. With no space.
On a serious note SHOULD I continue the waifu thread.
This isn't a "Should I pack it all in" deal, this is simply. "Is that story at a good cuttoff and should I work on the ogryn one in double shifts instead." or "Should I keep winging it?"
Cause I mean I can move forward with the story if I need to but thats not to say that I'll get a better point to end it then that. There are plenty of stories that in my mind went on too long and messed things up.
Off course 88c never got her sweet legitimate head pat.
When you say Waifu thread, what do you mean. If you mean the story then yes, if you have the time an energy we would appreciate it. We NEED to see her get legit head pats...and see the Catachan's reaction to her smile.
For some reason I call both of my stories threads so yes
I really wish I had a better name then "Waifu Krieger" but I didn't and still don't.
Though its doubtful the catachan will ever see her smile, for the simple fact that only one Krieger has a interest in not being in full uniform.
Hey can you post your story to a pastebin?
Did that.
The stories are even seperated, which should make things WAY more easier.
In another error I noticed I use the Uplifting primer as some sortof combination of the Hitchhikers guide and the Boyscout handbook, the go too book of whatever random regulations and tips you need, from how to speak Ogryn to the proper way to fix your bed.
In canon however, its just the biggest crock of shit is mainly there to attract recruits who do not know any better.
But in a actual fun fact, Thudd got his name from a gun. For some reason I named him Thump and changed it mid way because I don't think things through.
But the thudd gun is four motars strapped together commonly used by Krieg.
Make of that what you will.
In no particular order:
Things like the primer being a reference book and so on...Fuck it, it was funny. You do the comedic stuff with aplomb so don't sweat the details too much. The loremonster who was posting earlier is not really indicative of how the majority of us see your work. Go with your headcanon if it makes for better story and disregard the nitpicking. You seem to have a good handle on the important stuff anyway.
Should you continue the lovelorn Kreig-chan? Sure, if you want to. The way it was left is fine as an endpoint if you feel like doing ogryn full-time, but I'm sure we'd all like to read more if you're up for it.
Your characters are great, definitely your strong point. The ogryn is oddly sweet to read about and the kreiger girl is all kinds of cute fun.
Ultimately, do what you want to do and we'll read it happily for most of the reasons I've mentioned. All I would ask is - if you want to pack it in, let us know so we're not waiting in vain. What you've done is great and no-one who matters would begrudge you.
Do you want more feedback on each of your posts?
Sure why not. Note it may or may not be used.
The reason for this is no offense its simply that I write so "immediatly" and without editing that even if someone tells me "Oh you used there wrong", I am inevitably going to do it again. I simply write too much with the goal of "getting it out so I dont over think it" to polish it that much.
Actual lore question: Was Greiss a commissar. The wiki says no, 1d4 says yes, I am confused.
This only matters because it affects who the Commissah reads books from.
One thing people need to work on is changing tense and point of view in the middle of the story. Sometimes it's third person in past tense, sometimes it's second person present.
I've noticed that a few times, my biggest issue is that each of the stories have different ones.
88c's is written 3rd while Thudd's is written in second because I didnt think to write it in first for some reason. If I do a third story, which i am likely to inevitably do because I have too much free time due to looking for work, I likely will have a first person narrative just for giggles.
The time tenses i am just awful at though.
Fragments: pastebin.com
“You are unbelievable...do you think I am just going to disappear?”
“Don’t let it bother you,” the commissar offered her an iho-stick, “they all do the same thing to me.”
The Witch leaned back and regarded Theta. The man across from her examined his gloves, wondering how many hands had worn them and who would get them next. The whispers made him sit up and the voice nearly made him shoot out of his chair. “You're sick,” the voice had said, “you’ve been sick for a long time.”
Theta looked at the Witch but her lips were not moving.
“You can tell me everything, unless you want me to pry. I know that sounds unpleasant but you might enjoy it.” Her smile threatened to split her face.
Before Theta could turn the room into a charnel house the colonel’s aide entered and escorted them to the command room. Colonel 76, a small man in a battered cuirass as old as the regiment, was examining a stack of picts taken from orbit. A bust of Colonel Jurten the only decoration on his desk. He waved the Captain and the commissar over. Theta and the Witch watching them from a respectful distance.
Theta did not hear the opening remarks, he was too busy staring at the colonel’s bust. “Are you hearing this?” the Witch hissed, “we are leaving!” She was right.
“The wilden mob from Catachan discovered a gap we can exploit in the eastern sector. We will join the rest of the division and attempt a breakthrough there.” The colonel sounded bored. Then: “But you have a special task Captain. If the breakthrough is going to succeed we need their reinforcements to be drawn somewhere else. Your company will launch an assault on the opposing trench line tonight. You will hold their ground and try to repel all counterattacks.” The colonel leaned back, satisfied.
“I… don’t think this is possible Colonel.” The commissar had gone pale. “They do not have the manpower to hold and without supp-”
“It is not a matter of holding land it is about drawing the enemy away from the rest of the regiment. If you have doubts about this action you can join company A on their excursion.”
“That will not be necessary.”
Theta watched impassively as his death sentence was argued over by a drunk and a fanatic. A model guardsman if there ever was one. Eventually the commissar ended his objections and resigned himself to defeat.
“Reaching the objective will be difficult in the dark but the psyker will aid in navigation.” Colonel 76 turned to the Witch, who had gone pale.
She stammered. “My br... The Lord General did not not send me here to be invol-”
“A message arrived this morning putting you under my jurisdiction. A copy of it was sent to you but it appears it never arrived. Most unfortunate. You will receive a vox bead and a uniform as soon as possible.”
“I want to…I need to have a word with everyone in company A… before they go. I would like to bring priests from the village...” The commissar seemed more weary than usual.
“Don’t delay them. The priests are unnecessary, the last sermon given to the company will not be heresy. Dismissed.”
The Witch trembled beside Theta but he did not spare her a glance. For the first time in his life Theta felt relief. The mornings, the backward villagers, the prying Witch, the drunk political officer, the all pervading guilt, all of it would be swept away in blood. The only thing the corporal hoped for was that he would reach the objective before… Now that the permanent end of his career faced him it was hard to comprehend it.
The corporal looked into the eyes of the bust. He squirmed under their gaze.
You know what i realized.
None of us kept the old LoveandKrieg's habit of the krieger's being completely mute unless explicitly ordered to speak.
Which was never canon. Kriegers can and do speak in the original source material . Someone back then just did it, and then the thread latched on to it and ran with it.
Oh I am aware of that much at least. It's just interesting because some elements HAVE been used in future works even if not necessarily canon. Like Regentrop. But no one used that one, I may use it later on, sounds like it can cause a fun bit of frustration.
"So let me get this straight." The Commissah tells you, mechanical hand holding her head as the woman sighs. "You met a man in the tunnel with a chain-pickaxe, exchanged pleasentries and then he just left."
You nodded, teeth grinning. "Dat's roight, lovely fellow."
The commissah groaned, hand in her head, rebreather unit hanging from her belt as the woman sighed. "Latrine duty, for as long as you live."
"Um boss, I already got dat." You said as the woman sighs even harder. "Then latrine duty... lets see here... Watchmaster."
Sixtysomethingelse blinked to attention. "Yes sir?"
"What is something degrading and humiliating you'd rather not do?"
Sixtysomethingelse paused, the officer pondering the question. "Unit would be resistant to unnecessary fraternization personally."
The commissar blinks. "You are trying to tell me that the best way for me to punish your men is to make them play cards with there friends?"
"What is a 'friend'? General Pipal did not requisition these assets to us." The watchmaster questioned as the woman groaned.
"I bet Yarrik never had to deal with this." The woman muttered as she came to a decision. "Right then, latrine duty... while doing math problems. You can't leave till your done."
You gulped, you no good at math... dat was the one bout the colors right?
"Commissar with respect this is a waste." Captain Thirteeun stated, sabre at his hip. "If we began pursuit immediately the xenos would be dead by now."
The commissar sighed. "I am not going to send perfectly good men down to try to chase a ORK tunnel, knowing the greenskins the thing's already collapsed and the bastard simply hasn't noticed. Mission rejected." The commissah sighed as the Captain.
Sixsomethingelse thought. "Permission to speak sir?"
"Granted" Thirteeun and Commissah said together.
"If the ork didnt recognize Thudd, as testimony indicates its likely to return equally bewildered. Chances are that pursuit is simply unnecessary for staging ambush.
Thirteeun was silent, weighing the pros and cons. "We can stage a ambush and kill him there."
You blinked, the tatikul information hurting your head. "Can I go to latrine duty now?" You ask as the commissah waved a hand.
"Oh, of course, both of you dismissed Sixfiveseven retrieve Engiseer Aregos for us." You got up as da wotch masta nodded. It took a bit but you got it all figured out.
Wotchmasta meant little boss, so dey tell you whats what, but they get told whats what by Thirteeun who gets told what what by dis nice lady who gave you a cake one time, and she gets told whats what by um... you guess the emeperor.
And he gets told whats waht by your mum, cause she knows best but she gets told by the emepror again because he's extra smart so he gets to tell people whats what twice.
Dis of course not including buddies like the Commissah and Thirteeun are, or you an Fifteehate.
Speaking of buddies you amble up to her, the woman armed with dose water shooters as she hosed down the latrine with the practiced aim of someone used to those hot things you can't touch no more.
"Greetings Ogryn." The woman tilted her head to the towel. "Dry."
You nod as you get to work.
A few minutes later you admire your first day on the job.
"Dat looks like some good job." You said admiring the water soaked latrine. It's smell went from da latrine smell to the smell you get from da rest of the tunnel where it is rainy. You've been told dat is what done smells like.
Fifteehate nodded. "Conclusion is acceptable..." Fifteehate paused. "Inquiry."
You stop walkin and wait. "Woit?"
"Unit... I have a question." Fifteehate stated, doing her best to learn how to speak da words right like you do.
You smile as you nod. "Dat sounds like a boss's job, I'll go get Thirteeun." You start to amble off but your finger is grabbed by the Krieg, the officer's head tilting away.
"Actually, this is a question for you."
You blink. No one ever asked you what's what, you usually just made sure dey didnt do nuffin dumby like dieing cause dey got shot a little. You blinked. "Go ahead."
"When your unit, the Catachans, got absorbed by the sixfortyfives... what was it like. Having to work with," The woman thumbed her hand over the underground trench behind her, the vast small that's been the subject of your not good dreams. "This. Us, me. Was it difficult?"
You shrugged. "Whats a diff-u-cult? Dat sound's heretical... I ain't heretical, i finish the green stuff on my plate all proper like."
Fifteehate thought, trying to rephrase the purpose. "Was it hard? Losing your friends and being stuck in this? Having to go into tunnels every day and digging when your job's to fight. We've had other regiments serve with us, they are always cleaner. Even the penals. More pure or something, normal I guess. Forgivable." Fifteehate paused, steam lingering from her mask. "Interregiiment moral is always... suboptimal."
"Oh... I don't know." You shrugged. "I mean I did it, so dat's dat right?"
Fifteehate slumped, you can tell because her head tilted a bit lower to her torso. "Inquiry withdrawn."
You shrugged. "Da smalls not fun but I don't know whats the fuss about, yous just as normal as all da other littleun's i got to fight with."
There is a pause, the two of you playing the quiet game in front of the urinal.
You win. "Thudd you are a idiot." Your buddy muttered as she walked away.
Well dat wasn't very nice... You shrug, ambling back to the mess tent, if your fast enough maybe you can borrow da spare rations.
Thats all for now, I found out that juggling so many things makes it harder to slip into thudds voice so I tried to put that a bit harder, beyond the simple semi mangled grammar of course.
Thud sounds like Banjo from Discworld, raised right and proper-Like by Ma Lilywhite.
Tactical bump.
Adorable. Yey
Alpha slung his rifle and motioned Beta and Gael to get back to the tank. "We were ordered to do so. You are injured, Adept Rorken will assess you. We are leaving in five minutes."
"W-what? When I told the quartermaster I h-had medical knowledge, I meant in terms of anatomy and biology and s-stuff." Miria blurted as Alpha ascended the hull.
Alpha stared at her for a moment. "Improvise. You do not lack imagination." Then he disappeared within.
+You, you...Oh!+ Well at least the Krieg had mastered snark, if that could be considered an emotion.
+Right, well I'm not checking a head wound wearing this.+
Miria pulled her helmet and mask off, ruffling her errant locks. Her hair was getting pretty unruly between the sweat and humidity.
From the ground, the man seemed to rifle through his pockets, looking for something. "Ah dun suppose yun got any...any...oh."
"Is-is there something on my face?" Miria asked.
The man belatedly closed his mouth, then his eyes drifted slightly lower. "...Iffn that's what ya'll lookit under them gasmasks and cloaks, making ya wear 'em is wunna th' saddest things in this here blighted galaxy Ah ever seen."
Miria felt her cheeks flushing. "Uhm. I'm not Krieg s-sir, just liaised to them. I am a-an Adept of the Cult Mechanicus."
"Them Cogheads?! So yer'n gon cut all them bits off 'stead? An' fill yerself up wit tubes and wires? Ah take it back, thas even sadder." He dragged his eyes back up to her face.
"Pard' mah manners, Ah'm a mite...shook up bein' shoved down th' gullet a that thing." He jabbed a thumb at the carcass behind them.
"Happen jus as soon as Ah landed, right askance that grey dungheap lookin tower off yonder. Plum thankful yun swung by ta grab me. Name's Barls, Barl Graves, leastwise till Ah get me a new ship, then back ta Cap'n Graves." He stuck out a hand, which Miria took after a moment.
"Y-you were the c-captain of the other transport? You rammed an o-ork ship? Are you mad?!" Miria gawked as he doffed his hat.
"Mad lustin' after a ladyfair's favor belike." He frowned as he found what he was looking for, a pack of lho sticks, totally squashed. "S'truth, Ah dun ken what came over me. Summat had ta be done, elsewise a lot ah good men, iffn ya could call them gasmasks and 'clessiarch eunuchs men, were gon end up twistin in the void." He shrugged and tossed the pack in the mud. "Jus in th' wrong place at the right time Ah reckon."
He waved off Miria's uncertain ministrations. "None a that, Ah'm fit ta go, and eager ta find th' rest a mah crew." He started off toward 301.
"We h-have vehicles recovering the other pods a-as we speak."
Some of the tension left his shoulders. "...Ah reckon thas th' best I can ask fer."
Miria nodded. "E-every effort is being made. Captain McKeon w-was quite insistent we find them a-all."
A small smile creaked across his face. "...Really. That's mighty fine a her. Looks like Ah got summat ta look forward to after all."
By the time they had linked up to the convoy again, it was nearly noon the following day. The regiment had carved a path in the jungle undergrowth easy enough to follow, and much easier to traverse than cutting through the trackless wilderness, but even so, the sun was high in the sky before Gamma was able to raise any allied elements on the vox. From there, they advanced together unmolested to the Imperial base, nestled in the valley mouth of a cave riddled mountain range.
As they rolled up, Miria saw that the staging area they were in was merely one of several, with Hydra batteries and emplaced guns dotting the cliffsides around them, and several makeshift bunkers carved out here and there. The section they were going to was especially dug in, apparently demarcated for forces from Krieg. It was crisscrossed with massive earthen and wood breastworks, gun pits, pillboxes and trenches winding up and down the section of cleared forest and only terminating at the actual mountainside itself.
Silent men in greatcoats of some variation of grey to black manned the weapon systems, tracking the approach of 300 company's armor column with their guns. Miria wondered just how willing they would be to open fire on a seemingly allied formation.
+Probably the instant they were ordered to.+
She shuddered.
The Russ ended its long, strange journey from Pallas in a dirt tarmac motor pool, surrounded by other vehicles in various states of repair.
Former captain Graves bid the crew of 301 goodbye, and went off to locate what remained of his men.
As Miria watched him walk off, as she watched Delta, Gamma and Beta begin removing their entrenching tools from the equipment racks and head off in the direction of the nearest gunpit, as Alpha pressed into her hands another perfectly filled out Munitorum requisition form (this time in a plastic waterproof sleeve) for the parts and materials they would need to repair 301, Miria was struck.
+I...I think I need to understand these people better. Alpha may have been being an ass, in his weirdly Krieg way, but he was right.+
Her servitor had come up alongside her again, his remaining eye flitting from her face to the surrounding environment. The rain was dripping from his oversized augmetics.
"I d-don't want you to get soaked again Gael, c-can you take a rest inside the tank f-for a bit?"
"This rain warm." He said.
"S-so, you like this rain?" Miria asked.
Gael brought his three sided claw out, and let the droplets patter against the limb. Rain pooled in the broad, flat fingers, and fell off the sides. He watched it for a moment, then brought his hand down again.
"Gael is helping." He intoned, clomping back to 301 and taking up a defensive stance, scanning the area for threats.
Miria felt something tighten in her chest as she watched the cyborg walk off. +He saved all our lives...and because of what he has been reduced to, I am utterly powerless to thank him in any way that would mean anything to him. What did he fail in, that was so monumental he deserved...this?+
She had several things she needed to discuss with Alpha. Badly. He had left to attend the all companies briefing being held in the command tent for the regiment, as soon as Colonel 209 and 111 had received their own briefings with the General. Miria imagined that would be happening soon, so she had a window right now where Alpha had no pressing duties, and she had an excuse in her hands in the form of her Munitorum requisition form to head to the command area as well. She started off, with one backward glance to where Gael was still slowly patrolling through the motor pool.
Gael is best Gael, great stuff as always.
Awww, Thud needs to give her a hug.
Gael is helping
Thudd's oddly suited to work among the kriegers, since he's scruinty is actually rather high. I figure I'd give him a Forrest Gumpian skill at one thing and for him he can actually tell all the Krieger rather easily apart simply by there very minute body language.
This is separate from Richand who simply assumes he's never met a krieger until they start to annoy the snot out of him, in which case he assumes they are 88c. So far he's never been proven wrong.
Uh...okay? That makes absolutely no sense as a response, but cool I guess. Thudd being the company Forrest Gump sounds legit.
I couldnt think of anything else to say honestly besides "Thudd can see that shes sad." I've been sick for awhile so I am not thinking very coherently right now.
I couldn't tell, you usually make nonsensical comments to small things...its hard to tell if you aren't thinking at all sometimes or if you are overthinking. Sometimes you do both, so I doubt being sick is doing as much as you think. Get well soon though.
I've been sick for the whole week so there is that.
Ah...well I cant wait till you are healthy and coherent, get well soon then chum.
hey where's batavi user? He's the one that started these threads and I'm looking forward to reading more of his stuff the most
If i recall he was rather busy since his last post so I assume he continues to be busy.
I can be wrong but I assume whatever was keeping him up before is still doing so. Not everyones as free as me.