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Just to quickly add, I have no idea of the current location of people in relation to everything that's happened. I'm totally lost in that regard, so if there is a problem let me know and I'll edit it.

 

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Ydalir shook his head in frustration and thumped the helmet held in his free hand into the side of the terminal, deepening the well of what looked like many, similar, repeated strikes. The monitor fuzzed a moment but kept ticking away, infuriatingly. "No, no do not put me onto that infernal repeating litany of rightious -proper-file-ordering that you've had me on for the last three days while you attempted to find the bloody files." Ydalir's head slumped a moment and almost hit the desk.

 

"I know you don't think it's there but I know it is, I can see it right in front of me. Yes, that's right, the Bloodsworn. NO NO DON'T-" A wordless cry of frustration echoed in the small compartment as his helmet was flung through the monitor, finally bringing an end to it's tortured existence and putting a fresh dent in the opposite wall.

 

Retrieving his much abused headgear Ydalir pushed violently through the door into the hallway, making his way back to the main halls of the Liber. "Bloody tech adept. Didn't even sound like he was from this world, let alone the ruddy Liber."

 

Reaching the small, unremarkable door back to the Liber's main halls Ydalir paused, took a deep breath and punched the door switch, the resulting chime sounding somewhat mournful.

 

Opening his eyes Ydalir paused only briefly as the sounds ehcoing from the Liber sounded somewhat more raucous than usual, even more than that time Ace wanted to see how loud he could rev his bike before the Moderati would come looking for him, if perhaps not quite as deafening. A bunch of scribe adepts were running in fear. Well, some were running, most were doing a marathon sprint with screams of pure terror. A huge unbelievably ugly... thing was chasing them, spewing random gibberish and for some reason devouring all the data-slates and scripture it could get it's many horrific maws onto.

 

Without taking a moment more than was required to assimilate the peculiar sight, Ydalir donned his helm and grabbed his favoured Bolter. For better or worse, he'd let Ace work on it and he had yet to have it malfunction, despite the custom-made belt fed mechanism, which somehow never seemed to run out of ammunition. Yet. Though he could have sworn each bolt had "Ace" inscribed on each round.

 

The beast died in a flurry of explosive bolts, as another slid round the corner. "Oh this is going to be a long day."

 

Several minutes passed and yet more creatures died, though the flow didn't end and he was forced to retreat, step by step. Each backward motion making him angrier and angrier. His mind flashed as he remembered there were some Wolves visiting the Liber, probaby drunk by now but that wouldn't hurt. Probably.

 

“Wolves, this is Gray Hunter Ydalir, do you hear me?”

 

Another shot and the hefty clunk of a second belt being loaded into his bolter made him pause. It had better not finally run out of ammo now, of all the times, not since it was 'gaurenteed' for life, though that was from Ace.

 

“We hear you Brother.”

 

Yes! He knew they would be there, somewhere, under an ale fuelled haze. Though he'd better make it sound a little bit more desperate....

 

“We’re pinned down between two giant Typos and need ammo! Can you get to us?”

 

A pause.

 

“Give us your location, we are on our way! Hold on until we get there, Brother!”

 

As he was giving his coordinates he heard an explosion behind him and a shout of "PURIFIY! PURIFY! PURIFY!" which sounded somewhat familliar.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No, no do not put me onto that infernal repeating litany of rightious -proper-file-ordering that you've had me on for the last three days

 

Spare a round for that one, will you? ;)

 

Without taking a moment more than was required to assimilate the peculiar sight, Ydalir donned his helm and grabbed his favoured Bolter. For better or worse, he'd let Ace work on it and he had yet to have it malfunction, despite the custom-made belt fed mechanism, which somehow never seemed to run out of ammunition. Yet. Though he could have sworn each bolt had "Ace" inscribed on each round.

 

I'm not that vain! It's more likely to have 'Property of the Liber; if found please return to appropriate forum'. :P

 

Another shot and the hefty clunk of a second belt being loaded into his bolter made him pause. It had better not finally run out of ammo now, of all the times, not since it was 'gaurenteed' for life, though that was from Ace.

 

Another one got past your guard there.

 

Also my guarantees are rock-solid when it comes to the tech side of things! <_<

... And maybe a fraction less so with everything else, but that's neither here nor there. :sweat:

 

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dark Apostle Thirst prudently took a step back as Reyner pulled the trigger.

 

There was a noise like a distant bell ringing, and flash as bright as the heart of a sun. As the light faded, returning vision to the assorted Liberites and Wolves watching, it brought with it sound - a great symphony of roaring, scourging flame that was as much felt as heard. Vast, scything torrents of fire engulfed the corridor. The level of heat even behind the flamethrower was intense; the gun itself glowed white-hot, and Reyner dropped it with a yelp before it fused to his gauntlets. The corridor-which-should-have-been-a-cupboard seemed almost to fold up on itself, the normal dimensions of the room reasserting themselves with a serious of booming noises. The fires within burst out of the room, licking about the walls of the corridor and heating the air to unbearable levels. As quickly as it had happened, the Space Wolves had the presence of mind to dive out of the way, dragging Thirst, Cambrius and Reyner with them, and they were largely unaffected by the flames, if somewhat knocked about by the blast.

 

When the noise faded, and the smoke cleared, all that remained was a badly scorched cupboard, it's contents reduced to ash, and a rapidly-cooling flamer lying on the flagstones.

 

"Well," said Lord Ragnarok, after a moment of silence. "It's not what I would have done, but that seemed to work."

 

"Reyner." Thirst said, blinking in the aftermath of the blinding glare. "Remind me to remind you to never use that setting again." He got to his feet and examined the ruins of the cupboard with care.

 

"By the beard of Russ, that had some kick." Jonas added, pushing himself upright. The other wolves mumbled agreement and crowded around, clapping Reyner on the back in recognition of an enemy vanquished.

 

Reyner himself was still a little shaken, so Cambrius scanned the devastated cupboard with his Auspex.

"It's all clear, Moderati. No hellish typo dimensions or anything of that nature here."

 

"Excellent," Thirst said, faintly. Ragnarok shrugged.

 

"I'd offer you Liberites a drink, but that thing killed the last of our ale. Well, I say the last. There's probably a fresh shipment due from Fenris any day now."

 

"I think we can wait a few days before celebrating our victory." Thirst said, indifferently. Ragnarok hesitated for a moment before continuing.

 

"Since you're here, I do have a question for you, Apostle."

 

"Hmm?" Thirst raised his eyebrows in surprise.

 

"What's the ale like, in the warp? Any good?"

 

"Good vintage, for the most part, but a little bitter." Thirst chuckled.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

 

Ace stopped at the bottom of the stairway.

 

There was a crushed and tangled pile of metal, carapace and ichor. Ace knew instinctively it was what remained of his bike. There wasn't even anything left to salvage - the collision with the tank had flattened the bike so comprehensively it would need to be scraped up.

 

Ace sighed glumly. First his chainaxe goes faulty during an honour duel with Ludovic, now this. At least the chainaxe wasn't beyond repair - the codex-approved models had a tendency for their topmost bearings to wear down quickly when used defensively, and what with one thing and another he simply hadn't got around to replacing them.

 

In fact, Ace had already had an idea for building a new bike - a little project he'd wanted to put into motion for some time, but hadn't really had the motivation. Now seemed like a good time.

 

But that would have to come later. There were still typos prowling about, and Ace was very much in the mood to hit something. An injured typo suddenly burst through the double doors at the far end of the hall, running towards him at top speed. Ace grinned and tensed himself for combat, but there was a familiar rumbling noise in the distance, drawing closer. It sounded like a Leman Russ tank. Ace looked at the typo again. It's not charging, he realised. It's running away, but from what?

 

Ace's question was answered as a Leman Russ battletank burst through the far doors, accelerating straight at him. Ace could already hear the bickering Wolves as they argued over who got first shot at the typo. There was no hope of getting out of the way of the tank, which barely fitted into the corridor - this one had no secret passages, side entrances or even hidey-holes. It was going to splat Ace flatter than his own bike. The tank zoomed forwards, and all Ace could do was hope like hell the driver'd spot him before they had to scrape him off the tracks.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Incineratus! :D

 

Also, I'm doomed. :blink:

 

EDIT:

If anyone wants to write me a way out of this mess, feel free. :P

Edited by Ace Debonair

Ace waited for something, anything in the few seconds he had left. In a moment, the Leman Russ was upon him, and he closed his eyes.

 

Which is why he couldn't see the blinding light of a teleportation in front of him. The screeching of tortured metal, however, was harder to miss.

 

Opening his eyes with some trepidation, the shocked Liberite saw a suit of black terminator armor standing directly before a now crumpled Leman Russ. The Space Wolves inside were swearing and howling at this new development. Casually, the terminator turned, brought his meltagun level with the confused typo, and incinerated it with a single well-placed blast.

 

Though he could only see the back of the warrior's armor, Ace had no doubt who it was.

 

"I saw someone was tearing up the Tabula. Lucky for you I came." The voice of Brother Tyler was casual, relaxed, though a tint of anger that the Liberite had heard many times before had entered it.

 

"Lucky indeed, Admin. Thanks for the save - I owe you one." The frater replied as he began to settle his nerves from the near death experience. Looking around, he realized that he was indeed in the Tabula Astartes, it's narrow state being due to it's lack of literary expansion.

 

"I'll consider it paid in full if you can help me clean up the Tabula. Don't worry about the tank though, some unlucky Space Wolves are going to take care of that." Tyler tilted his head towards the sounds of groaning coming from the wrecked Leman Russ.

 

"Of course, Admin. Organising things is a great pastime of mine." Ace smiled as he said this, considering himself blessed to get off lightly. Challenges to save an Admin's life were much more difficult than cleaning up a narrow hallway.

 

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

Edited by Dark Apostle Thirst
With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

Busted! Now your truely in the Dog house. :lol:

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

Busted! Now your truely in the Dog house. :lol:

 

How does Doghouse feel about that? ;)

 

it's weird, I was going to write about what I'd been up to in this story, but seeing as DAT is elsewhere as well as with me, I wasn't sure how to do it. To be fair, I can't even remember who else was with me anyway (it's been a while ;) )

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

Busted! Now your truely in the Dog house. :lol:

 

How does Doghouse feel about that? ;)

 

it's weird, I was going to write about what I'd been up to in this story, but seeing as DAT is elsewhere as well as with me, I wasn't sure how to do it. To be fair, I can't even remember who else was with me anyway (it's been a while ;) )

I'll join up with you, so your not alone...

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

 

I'm not exactly blessed with stunning good looks, I know, but there's no need to spell it out like that. ;)

 

Considering this is a story on the war against typos, the above might also be the worst pun made in twenty-plus pages. :lol:

 

Reyner:

That flamer is epic. Good stuff!

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

Busted! Now your truely in the Dog house. ;)

 

How does Doghouse feel about that? ;)

 

it's weird, I was going to write about what I'd been up to in this story, but seeing as DAT is elsewhere as well as with me, I wasn't sure how to do it. To be fair, I can't even remember who else was with me anyway (it's been a while :lol: )

I'll join up with you, so your not alone...

 

Ta :lol:

 

I was going to have the group rejoin everyone else as it's getting a little confusing to be honest :lol:

 

Now that I have gotten through the worst work week of Hell™ I'll have a go at coming up with something. I'll have to re-read a few pages first though :lol:

With a last swear, a Space Wolf finally managed to barge out one of the hatches, tumbling onto the ground as his momentum carried him forward. When he finally looked up, it was not a pleasant sight.

 

I'm not exactly blessed with stunning good looks, I know, but there's no need to spell it out like that. ;)

 

Considering this is a story on the war against typos, the above might also be the worst pun made in twenty-plus pages. ^_^

I was refering to the sight of an angry admin. Not something you really want to find, especially if you just lost your ride out of there :lol:

 

Oh and the worse the puns, the funnier they are in my book :P

I disappear from the halls for a short while and the anarchy of the Typo war re-emerges once more! ;) Absolutely superb writings from people! And now the controlled fury of an Admin has been unleashed...Emperor have mercy on us all! :)

 

Cambrius

Why, why, why...

 

Did I leave it so long to update myself with this typo hunting madness!

 

It's always with a smile that I return here. That and an urge for ale and brawling. Not always in that order.

 

Now...where's Greenhorn? I've a five knuckled present with his name on it.

  • 3 weeks later...

As the Admin teleported back out, the Wolves yelled for Ace to climb on the battered tank. As he and 'Horse climbed back on, the tank spun around and started backwards. "Hendrick, what are you doing?" "Forwards out, so we have to go in reverse!" Ace suddenly noticed some familiar looking scraps on the tank, "You killed my bike!" Warhorse and Jester both pointed to Wreck who had the "grot in the headlights" look on his face. "Ace, we will ste...I mean replace it for you."

 

Suddenly coming upon a gaping hole in the wall they took a short cut even though it was still smouldering and small flames were still guttering as they went past. "What kind of weapon does this?" "I'm pretty sure that is the Incineratus Maximus setting from one of the other Liberites." Now, they readied their weapons as they closed on the location of Ydalir and the pinned warriors. However, the other Wolves and Leman Russ had arrived first....

 

"Skadi, punch right through that typo. We can't shoot blind, we might hit our own people!" Gunning the engine on the Leman Russ Exterminator she floored the accelerator and drove straight into the giant typo. Exiting the other side with a sickening slurping sound however was a Lemon Ross tankette driven by a giggling blonde. Slewing wildly around, it nearly ran down the warriors they were there to rescue! "Use the Laser!" "We can't its a lizard now!" Thankfully, at that point, "help" arrived in the form of the other tank. Seeing that running it over did no good they just opened fire. Auto cannon, flamers and heavy bolter fire quickly ripped the giant typo apart as everyone else dove for cover. Suddenly finding herself a brunette again, Skadi let out a terrifying scream of fury and opened up with her hull mounted laser on the other typo. The last giant creature now continued on it's misbegotten journey as it tried to out run the Wolves, whose Ale it had ruined. "Give me that missile launcher." growled Warhorse and he calmly put a krak missile dead center of the retreating beast, ending it's vile existence.

 

Two days later, the Wolves were loading to return to Fenris and had a going away present for Ace. "I'm really sorry about the bike Ace, I hope this will make up for it." The attack bike sitting there gleamed silvery white under the sun. "It's gorgeous, I have some mods to make and a custom paint job in mind. Be careful and Russ go with you!" was his cheerful reply. As the Wolves lifted off planet, the air around him suddenly shimmered and five Terminators in bone white armor stood surrounding him. "You must have forgotten we have teleport homers on all our bikes. Thought a simple paint job would hide the one you stole from us, eh?"

Edited by Warhorse47
Two days later, the Wolves were loading to return to Fenris and had a going away present for Ace. "I'm really sorry about the bike Ace, I hope this will make up for it." The attack bike sitting there gleamed silvery white under the sun. "It's gorgeous, I have some mods to make and a custom paint job in mind. Be careful and Russ go with you!" was his cheerful reply. As the Wolves lifted off planet, the air around him suddenly shimmered and five Terminators in bone white armor stood surrounding him. "You must have forgotten we have teleport homers on all our bikes. Thought a simple paint job would hide the one you stole from us, eh?"

 

"Wait what? I didn't take the bike, it was the Space Wolves!" Ace protested. A white-gauntleted hand clamped heavily onto the Liberite's shoulder It's owner, resplendent in his decorated terminator armour, shook his head sadly.

 

"You must think we were born yesterday. Where are the Wolves who took the bike, then?" The terminator looked around expansively. "Oh look, no Wolves in these parts, Liberite."

 

Ace's jaw fell slack.

"You have got to be kidding me. Look, there!" Ace pointed up behind the terminators, at the ascending thunderhawk. There were more chuckles from the Deathwing veterans.

 

"Huh, just how dumb do you think we are?"

 

"Well, I'm beginning to revise my estimate," Ace said acidly, clapping a hand to his forehead in accordance with the ancient Liber art of Facepalming. "I've seen servitors with more common sense. Look at the perishing thunderhawk, will you?"

 

"Sorry, friend, but you're coming with us." The terminators closed in around Ace as they spoke. "The Chaplains want to know how you managed to steal that bike from us..."

 

 

EDIT:

All that typo-war stuff and I didn't even get in a chainaxe-throwing contest with Warhorse, which was pretty much what I started writing the story for. :lol:

 

Oh well, next time our paths cross, I'll work it in. I have comedy-related plans for it, anyhow...

Edited by Ace Debonair
That gives me time to work out how I'm going to get out of this mess anyhow. :lol:

Fine... If I really must I'll save your ass from the dress wearing pansies (seeing as I have not featured of late), but you'll still have to write it. :D

Edited by Heru Talon
That gives me time to work out how I'm going to get out of this mess anyhow. :P

Fine... If I really must I'll save your ass from the dress wearing pansies (seeing as I have not featured of late), but you'll still have to write it. ;)

 

Give me a while, and I'll work on this. :rolleyes:

 

EDIT:

Measure that while in Liber time, though, ok? :P

Edited by Ace Debonair
  • 4 weeks later...
Heru did you write the epic arse save for Brother Ace yet?

Er, I'm meant to be writing it, actually.

But since I lost a close family member this year and we've just gone past their birthday I'm not exactly flush with enthusiasm right now.

 

'Course if anyone else is up to the task, then I certainly don't mind letting them writing it out instead. :)

 

EDIT:

Missed a word out. That's actually kind of a new one.

Edited by Ace Debonair
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