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Other Tales From the Fang


Jonny Wolf

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Dramatasis Personae

 

Wolf Guard Jonny - JonnyWolf

Wolf Guard Beef - Beef

Wolf Guard Mav - Maverick

Wolf Guard Hendrik - Hendrik

Wolf Guard Lunch - Lunch

 

"BUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP!!! Ahhhh......"

"Beef! For the love of Russ and his empty flagon!! Hold it down!!!" Whispered Jonny.

 

So far the mission to steal all the barrels of ale from Lord Ragnarok's Great Company's store rooms was not going to plan. The plan had been simple enough: Lord Ragnarok and his great company were on some Emperor foresaken planet bringing much pain and sorrow to what ever poor scum happened to be unfortunate enough to be there. Jonny along with some trusted brothers had made an enterprising bargain with his own Wolf Lord.

 

"Get me something of note, young Jonny me lad, and I'll gladly let you lead then next Drop Pod Assault" his lord had said.

 

Knowing his lord's penchant for great (and copious amounts of) ale, and knowing the bitter rivalry between his lord and Lord Ragnarok, and the knowledge that Lord Ragnarok had one of the finest Ale Masters on Fenris...

 

Scratching his beard with the tankard, with ale spilling down the front of his armor, Beef blearily looked around Jonny and the other wolf guard with a look of bewilderment, his feral grin sloppy with ale. The tapped keg ale easily held under this powerful arm and the slow rocking back and forth of Beef gave all the tell tale signs that Beef was thoroughly enjoying himself...

 

 

MORE TO FOLLOW...

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The grav-porter, although constructed to lift the bulk of a dreadnaught sarcophagus, was listing uncomfortably to the port side with casks of ale stacked so high. The servitor hard wired into the leading edge of the platform flailed his one remaing arm in an effort to keep his cargo upright.

 

"This'll never make it...and the ale master is going to be back any minute!" Hendrik cursed in hushed tones.

 

Although still human, the Ale Master, due to his incredible ability to brew a fine ale, had been given a sustained life in the fang, and well over 100 years old...but, still human, and was asleep in his chamber to the rear of the brewery. 50 barrels of Lord Ragnarok's finest ale had been loaded onto the porter (two include five barrels that were from the good lord's personal cache).

 

Lashing held them fast, but the casks were scraping the top of the corridor, adding more confusion to already over calculating servitor.

 

"Beef...Beef!....BEEF!!" Jonny called.

 

"Huh? Wassat then? Wuuz goin on?" Beef replied.

 

"Would you kindly re-join the mission and put some of that brawn of your's to good work and help Hendrik straighten this grav-porter?! By Russ' hairy bollux, I didn't bring you along for this mission for your boyish good looks!!"

 

"Burp" Beef replied, but put down his cask carefully as if it were a holy relic. Drained his tankard and holstered it with practiced ease on his belt. "Right then...lets have at you. Stand aside little pups, apparently only real wolves can handle the nectar of Russ!" Beef reached the porter and deftly and easily righted the platform with his right hand, took his measure of balance and, satisfied, drew forth his tankard and looked inquiringly at Maverick.

 

"Brother Mav...a little ale if you please...I think this may be a thirsty journey!"

 

"If Russ wants you to have some ale right now, he'll miracle you some ale! Lets go!" Maverick replied, hastily giving orders to the servitor.

 

 

MORE TO FOLLOW

"Beef, we all know you're the strongest of us...but if your brain was half as talented as your biceps you'd be a navigator..." Hendrik whispered. "Now keep this porta - and you - upright long enough for me to make the adjustments to this servitor."

 

"+RE-CALCULATING+PLEASE STABILIZE LOAD++RE-CALCULATING+PLEASE STABIL..." Crunch! Hendrik, had tired of Maverik's negotiations with the servitor had decided to resort to Beef's approach to problems - a good bash with his thunder hammer. Hendrik was wise enough to use only the slightest of touches, after all, 50 smashed barrels of precious Fenrisian Ale would not a good and loyal Space Wolf make.

 

"+LOAD STABILIZED+AWAITING COMMAND+"

 

With the serivtor righted, Maverick non-plussed, Beef wobbling - but stable, and Hendrik feeling thoroughly pleased that Beef's approach to situations sometimes works, Jonny rolled his eyes, "Wait here...I'll check the intersecting corridor."

 

"Affirmitive, brother" Maverick replied.

"Praise Russ " Hendrink intoned.

-Farrrrrrttt- Beef joined in. "What? Just a little additional propulsion to get things moving" he replied with his chest out thrust proudly.

 

"Riiiiiiiighhhhhht..." Jonny commented and stared off towards to the intersection, stopping suddenly. "Where is brother Lunch??" He was supposed to scout forward. Anyone seen him? I lost his scent twenty minutes ago."

 

"Last I heard he wandered off to the left corridor muttering something about "Bloody Blood Claws...with there incessant questions...'excuse me brother Lunch, but what if this? What if that?'...bloody whelps and their bloody questions..." and that's the last I saw of him." Maverick replied.

 

"I smell Grox." joined Hendrik

"That's just Beef." Jonny said.

"Ha! Never confuse the scent of the Mighty Beef with that of a poor female grox being chased by four male grox."

Staring stupefied at Beef, the brothers couldn't believe that: one, Beef's nose was so accute he could make out those scents and give an accurate picture and two, he was doing it all as inebriated as he was.

"Wot?" Beef said, looking round, sniffed again, "she's in season too."

 

"By Russ' heaving boot to the arse! What has Lunch done now??" Hendrik whispered.

 

MORE TO FOLLOW

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