Mutt-Man! Posted March 3, 2009 Share Posted March 3, 2009 I can recall I was helping with re-adressing the Chaos tactics before I was so rudely torn away. (Long story, but thats not the story I will share, just drama) Oh by the way nice change to the site fellas.. It's been a while. -Rerk Avul, story absolout- Standing tall abroad the length of his grand cannon pointing his sword at his foe. His soles melt as it fires, slicking his foot underneath while his balance resolves. Deafened even with resonate dampeners shelled around his ears, the roar of each blast finding its way into his roaring lungs and passing up into his ears. He smiles as a moment passes, he witnesses the shell's blast. This was his war, his broken first battle. A battle of many to come. Seventeen shells roared, and he couldn't stand straight. So stiff from trying to keep his balance as the cannons recoil flung him up and he slid down between shots. Climbing back up lazily like it was natural, in truth he was scared out of his wits. His fire sergeant was the only one who payed attention to his face. He wasn't punished however, beause he gave the men morale. Something of a rare sight seeing a man tossed back by an ork round bouncing off his chest plate while he tried to sword fight the incoming shells in boisterous humor. His 'fearlessness' had given the men hope that day, even if he had slowed them slightly on reload and firing solotion aquires. Laughter pending between shots. Until that fare fated day that changed the course of the war. It was just a week before land-down had occured for the Ovitys first artillery company. Bellowing for weeks before arrival that Rerk was going to stand atop the cannon mast for the first and last shell fired in his first battle to testimate their home's first war beyond the stars. He had done so, and then his legend grew underneath their Commisar's gaze. His second battle he was ever so more vivid in his expressions. A fool he was, slinging a chain iron-welded onto the cannon's berrel top, riding like some sort of marauder. He painted himself red to provoke the orks! Somehow that started a fiasco, the entire artillery company repainted red shortly after scoring thirteen heavy armor marks, or kills rather. One of them scaled a gargant class, witness accounts that his 'steed' was the cannon that dealt its deathblow. Again he barked madly at his enemy. I call them his enemy because, well he held the torch of war in his hand that battle. His legs were all but torn from the previous taunts, so he hung himself on two chains linking a pair of cannons. His harness broke loose after the third round, and he broke two ribs but he stood again to defile the enemy with his vulgar express. Laughing or invigorated, he made the men heaped a faster volley one after the other in record time until the barrels glowed in the dusk. Before the seventh battle occured, an estimated 490 ork deaths and 32 armored marks were made. Only the elite of A-Companies would harvest such a feat, rather then a green ompany such as this one. It was no blame to the miscalculation of the commander of assuming them as professional when re-deploying them in a risky point strike. We lost all but one tank, and all their bodies were accounted for except one. You know who I'm talking about. A report of a rogue round penetrating the rear of an ork battlefortress that halted their advance just before dawn hardly a month after the first A-company fell. This delay was timely, for the price they payed for not making use of the night between regiment redeployment acts would have been devistating. Again a rogue round landing dangerously close to a recon scout patrol had revealed an ork tunnel pathway. That changed the course of several battles where surprize raids held beneath rendered a whole supply line that crippled an ork flank. Again reports of rogue artilery rounds that sounded like Basilisk Earthshaker rounds flooded in. Then finally after seven months and roughly 22 rounds reported, namely what the artillery company cashed remaining upon decease. The battle worn insignia wrought with foul fumes of ork fuel choking out of the exhaust of a barely functional basilisk engine. He returned to the front line. Appearances aside, he was seen clutching several wounds, and his armor was bloodies. It is unknown how one man could man one tank effectively on his own. To cap the hatch and loading requires two men alone and to fire requires a third. His legend grew like a plague, ghost stories fled into the mind of orks through captured prisoners. They would howl his name as their blades cleave their lives from them. Ever haunting the orks, they would demand that such a man didn't exist or to give him or face their threats. Leading to psychological warfare, the entire armadda painted his color of crimson. Ten thousand men bearing a dubious color compared to the dark husk browns of the surrounding terrain. Sprawled across miles, bearing no hint of hiding, the men became something of a sight of horror for the greenskins. Roaring Rerk's battlecries and his signature behaviour of taunting with a sword or knife. It was a loss of composure but the effect was more grand that they were allowed to do so. Orks paused before firing their weapons they readily emptied before, and they ran more often, and often seen bickering with their bigger bretheren and turning backs. Again and again the orks were pushed back, and with Rerk at the tip of the spear once more in his tank he demands he man alone. He pushes past the front line of Orks when they witness his oil and ork-blood soaked basilisk. Normally orks would see this as an oppertunity, if the damn thing wasn't set ablaze with rounds being dropped with timed fuzes detonating the ground behind it. He roared into the ork lines like a scene from hell itself. Firing his very first round at the biggest ork he could see, and hit. This demoralizing effect upon the horde was so effective that the entire vocal orchestra of screaming ork bellowing was driven silent. After his round fired, he stood out of the canopy and climed the chain welded on his cannon and stood on top swinging his sword like mad. Taunting the orks to climb up the burning basilisk of hell and face him in mortal combat for their very soul itself. Its unheard of for an ork to turn down such a challenge, and even rarer to see no ork fire at an easy target. The persuing battle that rounded Rerk in a cloud of debree and shrapnel. The men fighting hard to protect their legend, he had birthed a fervor unseen in any tame regiment. Fire bloomed his rose tank, and finally orks came to meet his threat. Knowing his tank was near doom, he threw one last moltov into the ammo derrick and using the cannon's density to stay the blast his tank blew with a hundred orks taken with him. It is said that his cannon is a holy relic, and the limbs of the orks that blew from around his last stand praised the emperor, but we know now it praised something unholy. That battle strewn across where men should favor ranged combat, driven mad charging forward shoving their guns into green skin before pulling the trigger. They howled and yelled in joy as the organs of their enemies boiled and burst from the abdomens of green flesh. The red adorning their uniforms no longer just a false crimson. They showed a new hidden allegience born. As the roars of death hallowed the ground, two fiery wings blew its rage underneath the engine of the legend's basilisk. Hints of the name basilisk is that of a fire breathing dragon of sorts. Well, that is exactly what arose from the melted husk torn asunder. Its first roar tore the voies of the orks, even as they would perish. Its second roar echoed the valley and swayed the untouchable clouds. Its third roar took their souls, in a cry of agony made as one voice, each man living or dead burst into flame. Their bodies scorching flesh until the charbone remains stood in their place. Literally, standing! Blazing their rifles of hot laser death and fiery blades their everlasting grinning skulls terrorizing the last of the green in the distance between the smoke and fire. Avul, Rerk the Charbringer of the Hate Flame... Known Status: Unknown Location: Unknown, last seen near the eye of terror - unidentifiable recording Accord: Tratoris Demon Evictus, currently saught by the Inquisition He still stalks the stars, his firetongue licks the souls of men burning their tame hearts into incinerating their very humanity, leaving only the bones of war. (Prelude to a skeleton Imperial Guard Army, lead by a greater daemon with Bolt of Tzeentch) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eyescrossed Posted March 3, 2009 Share Posted March 3, 2009 Does this have ANY PA in it? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mutt-Man! Posted March 3, 2009 Author Share Posted March 3, 2009 Ah not even 10 minutes and its been spotted, no sir that part has not been covered yet. However, this falls under the "Demon Codex" style, even if they are guardsmen (lost and the damned/Eye of terror codex list). - I've been out of the game for a while. Last I checked, the lost were a viable topic for the chaos bords on B&C. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eyescrossed Posted March 3, 2009 Share Posted March 3, 2009 Well, I don't know if they are, but you cannot have Guard and Daemons together any more - hell, even CSM only have generic Daemons. Oh, and I don't think the Lost and the Damned list is legal any more. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mutt-Man! Posted March 3, 2009 Author Share Posted March 3, 2009 It was made a viable fluff army and is still a possible army to field in apocalypse. It is indeed illegal in standard games. Unfortunately, most people felt it was the more "fair" of chaos armies out there. Cant win for losing codexes in the warp from where they spawned. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eyescrossed Posted March 3, 2009 Share Posted March 3, 2009 Well, wouldn't it be more suited to the Daemon section? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mutt-Man! Posted March 3, 2009 Author Share Posted March 3, 2009 Thought the chaos general section held all demon/lost/PA general interest? -It is a bit mixed and not pure daemon or lost. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eyescrossed Posted March 3, 2009 Share Posted March 3, 2009 It's mainly or all Daemon and LatD, so it'd be much better in Liber Malificorum. Just politely ask a mod to move it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mutt-Man! Posted March 3, 2009 Author Share Posted March 3, 2009 I learned a while back bugging mods (required to take action when asked) is a little off my rocking chair then letting them do it on their own time. We'll just let this thread die, its just for reading material anyway. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eyescrossed Posted March 4, 2009 Share Posted March 4, 2009 Well, you could copy/paste the story and post it in Liber Malificorum. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mutt-Man! Posted March 4, 2009 Author Share Posted March 4, 2009 It all shows up on the searchy, I make tons of stories like that without needing material and never suffer writers block for short stories. Really this thing isnt important to me, thanks though. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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