This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[Aqui]

A little snippet to tie up a few things that I would have written about before Ace's ending. Enjoy!

Aquilanus rose unsteadily from his cot and rubbed his head. The celebrations that took place after the battle were hazy, his Space Wolf persona partaking too much Fenrisian Ale, something that the others were currently grumbling about. Shushing them into silence, he looked at the data slate left on the desk. He didn't touch the thing, knowing that whatever it contained was a clue into the origin of the trouble in the first place. The battle itself was...unsettling. Events had rewritten themselves, seemingly at random. Such events were not uncommon in the Liber, as official records of many Chapters were known and then remembered differently. As someone who was in more than one mind, it was unnerving that nearly all of his were wary of it. It was evident that it was Chaotic, and the collective tried to get the Bahltimyr Reaver to confirm it. He refused, pushing himself in the deepest corner of their mind. That made the others even more wary of it. If it spooked a psychotic, deranged individual like him, then it was bad news.

Whatever it was it needed dealing with.

Activating a suspensor field around it, he lifted the tainted thing and left his cell, determined to put it somewhere where it would never cause trouble again.

The corridors were empty, another result of Fenrisian Ale. The denizens of the Liber were not known to rise and be about their duties at the same time, but today everyone had an unspoken agreement to let each other lie in. Time and space did not matter here to some extent, something that took some...time to get used to.

Approaching a door, set in a frame of perfectly wrought metal work inlaid with the rarest woods, he saw that it was open. In the room he could see the figure of a Moderati, Olisredan. He was studying the walls intently. It was obvious which inscription he was looking at.

The Moderator realised that he was not alone.

"Moderati." Aquilanus bowed formally.

"Brother. I see you are awake at last. I did warn you not to challenge the Sons of Russ in a quaffing contest." the amusement in his voice was evident.

"Aye, it would seem that one aspect thought he could accomplish that which even Russ himself could not. He seems to think he gave a good enough account of himself. The others are currently thinking of ways to get him back. Emperor knows what that would entail."

Olisredan nodded, his amusement not wavering.

"I see that the artisans have finally finished their work."

"I was...checking the plaque for errors."

Aquilanus knew full well what the Moderati was looking at, but refrained from saying as such.

"Still, whilst we look back, we must never forget the task ahead of us."

"Indeed," Aquilanus replied. "The road is paved with many dangers. One of which I intend to see to personally."

Olisredan noticed the data slate, but said nothing. Information is power. The power in that data slate was far too dangerous.

"By your leave, Moderati," bowing Aquilanus turned, his intent on finding a suitable way of dealing with the artefact.

Are you sure about this?

No, are you?

Aquilanus isn't sure about anything, that's why we all exist, furbag.

Can we all gather enough decorum to deal with this? It's vital we end this now. One false move and we could back to square one.

The chamber was well lit, an idiosyncrasy for this area of the Liber. The chamber had no shadows, no cracks in the wall, no flaws, nothing. No sound, no echoes. In the centre was a plinth housing a forcefield of great power. The object in his hands seemed to writhe and squirm in his hands. Whatever it really was, it did not like this room one bit. Aquilanus wasn't fond of it either. The entire chamber seemed to suck the very life out of anything that it encountered. There was no joy in this room, no joie de vivre.

Nothing.

The data slate was placed carefully on the top. The object wobbled, forcing Aquilanus to duck for cover. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the remnant of a sentence.

-ules. Sixth Edition.

Tearing his eyes from the blasted thing, he regained his composure. That was close.

Too bloody close.

Pressing the rune of activation, a crackle of ozone filled the room, making his nose wrinkle. It smelt of old metal.

I'd like to see anyone be tempted to get that thing now.

Leaving the chamber, Aquilanus shut the door, ancient locks snapped and slammed shut with a thunderous bang. Turning to check the seal, he nodded with satisfaction. The accursed thing was forever out of reach. Forever away from temptation. Above the door was a legend.

Liber Expenditure and Accounting Department.

I'm surprised it's empty.

I'm not. Can you imagine if someone actually did the books in this place. The Sons of Russ would be permanently in hock, if not for running up a booze bill the length of the Emperors' Palace, it'd be for all the excessive carousing they do.

Then why does that room exist?

Well, I suppose someone thought it was a good idea at the time. In any case, do not put any more thought to it.

Taking measured steps back to the Liber proper, Aquilanus' mind was filled with arguing again.

No, we need to go to the Fang. I owe Forte a quart of Wolf Whiz. I won't let him think I welch on a bet!

No, we need to go back to the Heresy Department. I heard that there was a party, plenty of blackmail opportunities there in the aftermath! Where's our vid pict?

Forget that! I say we nick another bike from the dress wearers and blame it on Ace again!

And so it was that the Typo war was truly ended...

Ore is et?

[fivepointedstar]

Nice addition to the ending.. And the beginning (again) to the Typo war .

*Locks his Lightning Claw in place on his gauntlet.

Checks his Spell-Checker ammo reserves. And says..

 

To which hall do I march to now?

 

 

p.s. Was it not you Aquilanus that started the Typo wars.. Seems fitting for begin them again. " To war!"

[Aqui]

Nice addition to the ending.. And the beginning (again) to the Typo war .

*Locks his Lightning Claw in place on his gauntlet.

Checks his Spell-Checker ammo reserves. And says..

 

To which hall do I march to now?

 

 

p.s. Was it not you Aquilanus that started the Typo wars.. Seems fitting for begin them again. " To war!"

 

 

*Nudges DK2K*  Shhhh! 

 

Yes, it was me.  It seemed to be a good idea at the time :lol:

 

Who knows, there may be battles of other types further down the road ;)

[Nomus Sardauk]

Hehe, I love this thread, we'd all make terrible marines in reality but we'd at least have a few laughs before our inevitable purging by the Inquisition. XD

[Ace Debonair]

Hehe, I love this thread, we'd all make terrible marines in reality but we'd at least have a few laughs before our inevitable purging by the Inquisition. XD

Speak for yourself, I'm future Chapter Master material.

My Chapter would keep changing name and colours every two campaigns or so though, so the Imperium would run up a huge paint bill.

Fine story, Aquilanus.

Just make sure Ace doesn't find out you're responsible for all the bike shenanigans or he might throw you down the stairs!

...Wait a second...

[fivepointedstar]

Back from the great battle.

 

Deathtknight strutted down the corridor heading away from the newly managed Culinarium.

DK2K turned a corner and stood confused on what hall this was in front of him. This

hall had smoothed out edgings and strange glyph-like symbols stylized in

geometric shapes. He began to place his helm on to see if the auto reader's

could identify these markings.

 

He started to remember the time that

he had that quick xenos symbol identification lab. Sorely this was the same study

he failed out off, due to consistently painting miniature models on his spare time instead of studying.

It took a short time of standing an pondering until DK2K recognize one of the

symbols of a Tau origin.

 

He continued to place his helm on,

and lock it into place. The sensory systems began to sweep the area. He looked

for a corridor number to alert the others of this possible hall breach. As

he looked for a number he noticed on the wall where the hall marker should have

been, was a placard with designation scratched off.

 

Suddenly a faint flash rolled thru the corridor and continued into the darkness pass him.

 

 

Even in his massive Power armored suit DK2K felt an intense surge of energy in the air.

 

 

Taking his Bolt Pistol from its holster he moves in for a closer inspection. He mentally triggers the mirco bead com-link in his helmet and says..

 

"This is DK2K; I'm in corridor...ah...erm. It's down the hall from the Culinarium! And we have a possible

intruder! Anyone read me?

 

"I read you DK2K, this is Ludovic, I’m busy in the Culinarium what is it you need?"

 

Brother Ludovic, we need to get the Liber’s assembled. We need to alert the Liber something just happened...

 

Was it one of the sandwich I had a servitors make for you? Cause if your going to complain about the

ingredient’s I’ll have you know…

 

No! It’s got nothing to do with that. But I've got a bad feeling about this...

 

 

=====================================================================

 

 

Somewhere near the Liber Expenditure and Accounting Department about

five standard minutes ago

 

 

“And so it was that the Typo war was truly ended...”

 

 

“Ore is et?”

 

 

Just as Aquilanus under breathed his final words before he walked down the hall back to his bed quarters to nurse one

of his personalities massive hang overs.

 

 

A faint orange dim light illuminated the hall way behind Aquilanus’s field of vision. It traveled all along the

walls of the Liber racing into the darkness. A few light flickered rapidly as this energy flew past them a blink of an eye.

And down the hall pass the Culinarium did this energy fade into.

 

 

================================================================

 

That's all I've got so far, I'll add more as soon as I can.

[Nomus Sardauk]

As the various Liberites began to stir from the previous night's festivities a fiery comet punched down through the clouded skies above the Legio's base. As the furious heat of orbital re-entry died away the flames dispersed around the falling comet, revealing the smoking shape of a Stormraven Gunship clad in the red and black of the Legio. Slowly the speeding gunship pulled up from it's headlong descent and came about, bringing itself in for a landing at one of the various airpads of the Fortress-Monastery. With a flash of retrothrusters and a roar of noise the Gunship touched down, landing gear dropping down to meet the floor with a clang as a crew of weary-looking chapter serfs jogged out to meet the new arrival. With a hiss of depressurization and a clank of hidden mechanisms the assault ramp of Stormraven dropped down and a group of battle-worn Marines in the Legio's colours disembarked,  battle-brothers returning from missions and campaigns across the length and breadth of the Imperium.

 

Waking from his sleep-meditation SanguiniusReborn slowly rose from his seat and followed his fellow marines out onto the platform, the winged blood drop decorating the shoulder of his MK.IV plate shimmered in the morning sunlight as his psychic senses detecting a ripple of worry echoing from the group. Following the pointed arm of one marine he finally noticed what had his brothers so worked up, further along the Legio base a massive ruin-strewn crater occupied the space where before had stood Hall Eight, with other areas surrounding the crater bearing familiar signs of battle. Before anyone could give voice to the questions building inside them the group's attention was stolen as a nearby gateway hissed open and the familiar forms of two hooded Moderati strode forth, one carrying an ancient Volkite weapon while the other bore a familiar golden meltagun. The melta-carrying figure held up his hand in greeting before addressing the marines.

 

"Welcome home brothers, I'm afraid we will have to forgo the usual feast to celebrate your return. As you have no doubt guessed by now, you have missed a great deal in your absence."

 

The group of marines immediately burst into life, barraging the Moderati with questions. What happened?! Was the Legio attacked?! Who did it?! How bad was it?! Did they destroy the Tavern?! All the marines fell silent however as Olisredan fired off a shot from his Volkite weapon, accidentally atomizing a stray bird in the process. Taking a moment to clear his throat Messor began to speak again.

 

"Please brothers, I understand you all have questions but please be patient, everything will be explained in due-"

 

Messor paused as SR pushed to the front of the crowd and stepped forward, staring straight at him. There was a long pause before the young Librarian spoke.

 

"Moderati, forgive me but... Why do you have Brother Ferrata's weapon?"

[Ace Debonair]

Ace stared at the data-slate the serf had proffered before him.

"This is the one Cambrius gave you?"

"Y-yes, sir." The serf stammered. Ace rolled his eyes.

"This is just a pile of random, badly painted images. I mean, one of them's yellow with black polka dots."

"T-this is the slate I was given, sir." The serf repeated, nervously. Ace stared at the slate venomously, as though it had slapped him.

"Polka dots, for Emperor's sake. And look here, there's some kind of horrible beige contraption with what appears to be hot pink tiger stripes. Either someone in the Heraldry Department is taking the mick, or it's an experiment by the Heresy lads to see which colours illicit the most disgust from loyalists."

There was a distant thump, much akin to someone landing a stormraven* outside.

"That's odd, I thought everyone was already here. Unless the lurkers have surfaced again, that means there might be some news from outside." Ace levered himself off the bed, picking up a crutch to support himself and wincing as his plaster-encased foot touched the ground. "Serf, I have another task for you."

"Yes, sir?"

"Take this back to Cambrius, and tell him Ace said: 'very ing funny', and wants the actual data-slate for the Stonebound."

"Immediately, sir!" The serf scurried away, clutching the other data slate like it were a shield.

Ace stumped his way out of the apothecarion, moving as quietly as his cast would allow. It had been a long time since any news from outside had filtered through to the Liber. Maybe this was a sign things were getting back to normal, or at least back to what passed for normal for the Legio.

"I've got a good feeling about this," Ace muttered to himself as he wandered towards the hangar bay.

*Being the Liber's designated driver gets you used to the noises the vehicles make.

[Aqui]

"I've got a good feeling about this,"

 

Famous last words! :lol:

[Ace Debonair]

"I've got a good feeling about this,"

Famous last words!

I'm an unarmed, injured marine whose current top speed is closer to 'hobble' than 'sprint', going to investigate a loud noise by myself a long way off.

What could possibly go wrong?

[Aqui]

"I've got a good feeling about this,"

Famous last words!

I'm an unarmed, injured marine whose current top speed is closer to 'hobble' than 'sprint', going to investigate a loud noise by myself a long way off.

What could possibly go wrong?

You're right. Absolutely nothing :teehee:

[Olis]

"I've got a good feeling about this,"

Famous last words!

I'm an unarmed, injured marine whose current top speed is closer to 'hobble' than 'sprint', going to investigate a loud noise by myself a long way off.

What could possibly go wrong?

You could get jumped by a bunch of rogue IA's... Uh... Nothing. Absolutely nothing...

[Ace Debonair]

"I've got a good feeling about this,"

Famous last words!

I'm an unarmed, injured marine whose current top speed is closer to 'hobble' than 'sprint', going to investigate a loud noise by myself a long way off.

What could possibly go wrong?

You're right. Absolutely nothing

Why, it's as free of danger and excitement as any other typical routine patrol.

[Nomus Sardauk]

"A... Typo invasion?"

The returned marines found it difficult to process, the fact that such a large infestation of Typos had occurred within the Legio's own base was hard to believe, that the brothers on site had only just been able to hold it back in a stalemate was even worse. But that Ferrata, one of the Liber's mightiest Moderati, had disappeared while fighting a Typo beast the size of a Warhound Titan in the final moments of the fight and was believed dead was unthinkable!

The marines had left the landing platform following Messor and Olisredan's re-telling of the war, some returning to their quarters to rest, others headed to the armory to see to their wargear, more to the memorial plaque at Reyner's wall to pay their respects or survey the damage for themselves. SR had chosen the latter and was on his was to the ruins of Hall Eight when he noticed the limping form of Sgt Ace Debonair, a crutch under one arm and a foot encased in plaster.

"Hail Sergeant Debonair, do the Apothecaries know you're out of bed?"

"Yes yes, I'm fine, I just thought I'd come investigate what that noise was, did something just land outside?

"Aye, myself and a Stormraven-full of other Legio brothers returning from off-world missions. Librarian-Novitiate SanguiniusReborn at your service brother-sergeant."

"Hah! I thought so, I'd recognize the whine of a Stormraven's thrusters anywhere. So, what news? How many of you are there?"

"About twelve of us sergeant, all missions a success as far I know. Word has it there are two more Ravens inbound with our brother that should be joining us shortly."

Ace nodded, scratched his chin as he processed the information.

"Excellent, I hear the Moderati are looking for more recruits to form kill-teams to sweep the underground tunnels and passageways around the ruins of Hall Eight. Apparently they're worried about any Typos that might have escaped the Hall when it collapsed."

"Or maybe they're looking for Ferrata, I hear they can't find his body, so maybe he could still be..."

"Don't get your hopes up lad, I saw the explosion when Hall Eight blew, not even Ferrata could live through that."

"I suppose you're right, but if there are kill-teams going down into the tunnels then I'm going too, I owe those typo b ds for what they did here."

"Making up for lost time are we? Well I imagine you won't be the only one, so if you find any typos still alive down there, give'em hell."

"For Ferrata."

"Aye, for Ferrata."

[Ace Debonair]

"Hail Sergeant Debonair, do the Apothecaries know you're out of bed?"

Back up a second, I'm not a sergeant.

I'm just an injured pillock who thinks he's a techmarine and who occasionally dabbles in creating paint schemes for chapters.

EDIT:

Further edit, never mind, just had a great idea.

....I know it's just a story, but this is still the Liber.

C&C is still inevitable.

[Dosjetka]

I emerge from the depths of the Culinarium and I come across what seems to be the beginning of another Typo War. I'm loving it :lol:

 

Oh and thanks for the comical inclusion into your bit of the story, DK2K :D

 

Ludovic

[fivepointedstar]

======================================================================================================================

As DK2K walked with his pistol ready , he was scanning every corner of this weird, and strange corridor with no number. He was still unsure how, or where he ended up here. All he knew was that down the hall about 5 miles and to the left was the Culinarium. He only knew this cause he could smell the random traces of burnt foods, and lingering smell of blood of the slaughtered meat beasts. The enticing smell of the irony blood tinged his nostrils making his eyes dilate momentarily creating a mild blur of images ahead of him. DK2K hushed the thought of triggering his thirst, and began to mentally reciting the Code of the Dragon centering his mild debilitation. He shook his head a little hoping to clear his urge to go get a roast for food. Still looking ahead the images that blurred before him did not clear up. His helm's sensors alerted him to trace movements ahead. The blurred image began to emerge from the shadow. With his pistol still trained on the unseen foe. The transgressor de-cloaked,and there stood all twisted and contorted typo, but wearing Tau styled stealth armor. DK2K's pressure in his finger increased as his training kicked in, instructing him to give these new typos a kicking of a life time!

Bolt shots screamed out from his weapon and pierced the Xenos square in the shoulder as it attempted to dodge his righteous fury of spell-checker rounds expelling in it's direction. The Xenos-like typo crawled to the wall with one of its shoulder blown off and dragging it's mutilated halve along the ground. Its cloaking devise was badly damaged as it phased in-and-out of vision rapidly until a spark signaled its energy was spent. Eager to end this intruder DK2K stood over the Typo with his bolt pistol's sights drawn on the contorted face of the typo.

" Any last words foul thing, before I white you out?"

" Ur jezts , ga ga goin 2 halve 2 C. W-w-w, wait an sea four yoursellf spess mareene"

" What are you doing here!? What madness would bring you to assault a keep of the Imperium!? ANSWER ME!

The Typo shifted, spitting moldy-like ichor onto the floor beside him. " Joane us in the grater goode, spess mareene en I wil sho u."

" I think not vermin". DK2K squeezed the trigger sending the point seven five caliber round spiraling into the forehead of the typo, and seconds later the reactive core exploded sending viscera all over.

" Attention Liber we have a breach in security!"

[Ace Debonair]

Ace was thoroughly confused.

Whatever had happened to SanguiniusReborn outside of the Liber, it had certainly taken it's toll on him - he seemed to be imagining that Ace was a sergeant. Moreover, the Librarian was apparently holding a completely different conversation inside his head.

"So, what brings you this way, anyway?"

"Or maybe they're looking for Ferrata, I hear they can't find his body, so maybe he could still be..." SanguiniusReborn looked wistful for a moment.

"Er... could be." Ace shrugged. "I still haven't seen what happened down there. Well, obviously. I've been locked in the apothecarion since about two dozen years ago. Or maybe about a month. Time passes differently in there, you know." Ace chuckled.

"I suppose you're right, but if there are kill-teams going down into the tunnels then I'm going too, I owe those typo b ds for what they did here." SanguiniusReborn clenched his fists, his eyes alight with rage.

"...See, this is why nobody talks to you Librarians much."

"For Ferrata."

"Are you related to Aquilanus, by any chance? Oh, never mind. Just don't rush off and attack anyone, alright?" Ace sighed.

There was a strange noise from underfoot. As best Ace could guess, down near the culinarium.

"Of course, Sergeant! To battle!" SanguiniusReborn yelled, sprinting away with his weapons drawn.

"That's exactly what I didn't want you to do!" Ace shouted after the charging Librarian, but his words went unheeded. "...Nuts," Ace concluded, hobbling his way towards the stairwell.

Despite the horrible tendency for horrible things to happen in the Liber, Ace was still optimistic, and felt fairly certain that the odd noise on the lower levels was just Ludovic finally getting the oven doors to open again.

[Aqui]

"Are you related to Aquilanus, by any chance?

 

:lol:

[Nomus Sardauk]

Ace was thoroughly confused.

Whatever had happened to SanguiniusReborn outside of the Liber, it had certainly taken it's toll on him - he seemed to be imagining that Ace was a sergeant. Moreover, the Librarian was apparently holding a completely different conversation inside his head.

"So, what brings you this way, anyway?"

"Or maybe they're looking for Ferrata, I hear they can't find his body, so maybe he could still be..." SanguiniusReborn looked wistful for a moment.

"Er... could be." Ace shrugged. "I still haven't seen what happened down there. Well, obviously. I've been locked in the apothecarion since about two dozen years ago. Or maybe about a month. Time passes differently in there, you know." Ace chuckled.

"I suppose you're right, but if there are kill-teams going down into the tunnels then I'm going too, I owe those typo b ds for what they did here." SanguiniusReborn clenched his fists, his eyes alight with rage.

"...See, this is why nobody talks to you Librarians much."

"For Ferrata."

"Are you related to Aquilanus, by any chance? Oh, never mind. Just don't rush off and attack anyone, alright?" Ace sighed.

There was a strange noise from underfoot. As best Ace could guess, down near the culinarium.

"Of course, Sergeant! To battle!" SanguiniusReborn yelled, sprinting away with his weapons drawn.

"That's exactly what I didn't want you to do!" Ace shouted after the charging Librarian, but his words went unheeded. "...Nuts," Ace concluded, hobbling his way towards the stairwell.

Despite the horrible tendency for horrible things to happen in the Liber, Ace was still optimistic, and felt fairly certain that the odd noise on the lower levels was just Ludovic finally getting the oven doors to open again.

Oops, so much for me thinking I had everything sorted out in my head. I must have gotten Ace mixed up with one of the other marines from the teams that planted the bombs. As for the whole Sergeant thing I could have sworn I read in one post somewhere Ace was that rank.

Oh well, if anyone asks I'll just say I was so incoherent with rage at the typos' desecration of the Legio's base I was hallucinating. ^_^

[Olis]

Oh well, if anyone asks I'll just say I was so incoherent with rage at the typos' desecration of the Legio's base I was hallucinating.

Or we could just assume you're a nutter. That said, the Liber thrives on colourful characters. :lol:

[Dosjetka]

Yeah, that flippin oven door was a pain to yank open after a Typo vomited over it, sealing it shut...

[Brother Argent]

Hmmm, remind me to never get anything cooked in the Cullinarium, at least not oven cooked... Suppose I should get the IG challenges laid down soon, now that the B&C is back consistently   That and I should maybe bring my Chaos and Loyalist incarnations out of the DDDoL.  Seems there might be another Typo war a'brewing, and I don't intend on missing out on this one.

[Ace Debonair]

Hmmm, remind me to never get anything cooked in the Cullinarium, at least not oven cooked... Suppose I should get the IG challenges laid down soon, now that the B&C is back consistently That and I should maybe bring my Chaos and Loyalist incarnations out of the DDDoL. Seems there might be another Typo war a'brewing, and I don't intend on missing out on this one.

I'm actually hoping not, narratively speaking.

It'd basically be the same stories again but with the names changed round.

Also, it's not even that long since it ended. Surely there's more to the Liber than checking spelling?

EDIT:

Also, Ludo, good on you for volunteering to be a cook. That Culinarium is one messed-up place. Emperor alone knows what treasures or horrors you might yet find.

Oh, and SanguiniusReborn - don't worry, that's basically normal Liberite behaviour. Nobody will even notice you're having visions or whatever because everybody's pretty much that crazy!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

The problem is we can't do an invasion or really anything without the rest of the BnC being affected, and the only problem with that is the rest of the BnC hasn't been given much recognition or effort beyond what Shinzaren laid down in the very first post that started this. If we're going to do a different story, we're going to need some kind of conflict, but as to what, that's for all of us to decide. I say we start writing up some bits about the various forums here, in this thread. Does this sound like a good idea to everyone?