This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[Grey Hunter Ydalir]

This....

 

 

 

 

...... is wonderful! B)

 

Ace, my hat is henceforth doffed to you my friend, to which I must thank you for having such a rather large speaking part in the story. I liked that and it made me laugh, a lot. At a time when finding a hou- err, a new homeworld takes up such a lot of my time, this just helped brighten my day.

 

Well done! :P

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

I was quite amused by the 'Matt Ward Hate' bit. :cuss

 

EDIT: Actually, re-reading this, two things leap out at me.

Firstly, where's the bit mentioning the Librarium team? :blink:

 

Secondly, I can't help but notice the lack of any other Liberites in this story, even in passing.

 

Heh, it seems everyone likes my portraying of Matt Ward. I was worried that it wouldn't work that well, and yet it did.

 

I didn't mention the Librarium team. My bad. I did slightly base my persona's attitude off of the kind I received when I received the 'article denied' mesage for the Wraiths, which was generally helpful because they weren't the author (and therefore can see things the author can't). I suppose you could interchange my persona with any one of the Librarium team members.

 

 

I did mention the other Liberites, in the Liber council, and the Librarian. I just didn't specify them.

 

GhostLegion - so basicly, you are amused because it's similar to the Liber how it already is, and yet isn't? It makes sense, but when it's simplified, it doesn't. Hmmmm.

[NightrawenII]

He was in a small chamber, it seemed, on a cot. He was tended by an apothecary with blood red armour. Apothecary?

Why is the Apothecary's armour red?

 

Deric did so, the marine - the Dark Apostle, as the apothecary had said - guiding him out of the chamber, back into the hall of the Legio's Librarium. The plain door leading to the Liber Council was open, and Deric could see the Council arguing with a Librarian from some chapter. The conversation appeared similar to the one Deric had recently experienced, but the Librarian was bringing up images of gigantic space shuttles, vast fleets, and huge armies painted in the same colors that the Librarian was.

Lol, a Lost Legion I suppose.

 

1) someone comments on the color scheme...often ignoring the content of the IA. 2) Someone will invariably read it, not like it, and decide it is not worth taking time to post a comment on the article. 3) Someone will read it, like it (or not) and post just that...with not a word of commentary or thoughts (even concerns), despite the general idea being to help eachother improve what we are generating as ideas here (at least this is important in my mind...not all ideas are complete at the first go). 4) Someone will absolutely hate what is written, say so in a few words, and others will jump in on this...though they may alternatively ignore the OP as the (4) here said enough to cover their thoughts. Generally, there is also the 5) which is the person (people) who will take the time to read the post and try making suggestions for improvement...some may even take this to the point of assistance with grammar and structure.

And that's why the handsome and sophisticated NightrawenII, the Imp of Liber, jumps on newly-submitted Chapters and slaughter it to the last marine.... I mean, read carefully and then post his C&C. However, there are 3 exceptions:

#A Un-cool Name

#B There is not much written, therefore he doesn't bother to C&C.

#C The *Idea* is so terrible that if he *did* and comment, his nerdrage-filled post would tear a warp-hole in the DIYer's monitor and condemn that unfortunate guy to the Fate of Eternal Pain and Suffering.

Edited November 17, 2010 by NightrawenII

[Ferrata]

I have merged all three threads together. Please remember the primary reason Liber is here, and whilst it is fun to mock ourselves, having three threads on the front page is actually detracting from us doing our favoured work...

[Ace Debonair]

I have merged all three threads together. Please remember the primary reason Liber is here, and whilst it is fun to mock ourselves, having three threads on the front page is actually detracting from us doing our favoured work...

Cheers, Ferrata.

I'll be honest, I was worried about us derailing the entire Liber. <_<

 

 

EDIT:

 

Updated my story, back a page or two.

It's got a handful of new bits, and I fixed some of the dodgy grammar. :lol:

Edited November 17, 2010 by Ace Debonair

[Chapter Master Ignis Domus]

More and more excellence. That explains the sudden page jump.

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

He was in a small chamber, it seemed, on a cot. He was tended by an apothecary with blood red armour. Apothecary?

Why is the Apothecary's armour red?

 

Deric did so, the marine - the Dark Apostle, as the apothecary had said - guiding him out of the chamber, back into the hall of the Legio's Librarium. The plain door leading to the Liber Council was open, and Deric could see the Council arguing with a Librarian from some chapter. The conversation appeared similar to the one Deric had recently experienced, but the Librarian was bringing up images of gigantic space shuttles, vast fleets, and huge armies painted in the same colors that the Librarian was.

Lol, a Lost Legion I suppose.

He was my personal Apothecary... Blast. I just realised none of you know the huge background between the Apothecary and Dark Apostle Thirst ;)

 

I was just talking about a huge chapter for the second one... 'shrugs' One thing I really don't like about many failed chapters is the need for large amounts of astartes.

[NightrawenII]

"Records aren't clear on the subje-" Deric began, but he was drowned out by the storm of cursing and gnashing of teeth from the Liber Council. The marine called Heru started swinging the skull-flail menacingly, and Thirst started toying with a knife on his belt.

 

"An unknown geneseed is the mark of Laziness, the Fifth Chaos God," Ace said, clearly quoting a line he'd heard somewhere else and liked alot.

 

" Pick a geneseed," Thirst suggested. "Any geneseed."

Noooooo, you are using my briliant line to make yourself look cool. That's wrong, wrong I'm tellin' ya.

 

"Records aren't clear on the subje-" Deric began, but he was drowned out by the storm of cursing and gnashing of teeth from the Liber Council. The marine called Heru started swinging the skull-flail menacingly, and Thirst started toying with a knife on his belt.

 

"An unknown geneseed is the mark of Laziness, the Fifth Chaos God," recited, to this moment silent, hooded marine in monotone voice.

"Indeed, brother NightrawenII," noded Ace in agreement.

 

"Pick a geneseed," Thirst suggested. "Any geneseed."

Fixed. ^_^

[Ace Debonair]

"Records aren't clear on the subje-" Deric began, but he was drowned out by the storm of cursing and gnashing of teeth from the Liber Council. The marine called Heru started swinging the skull-flail menacingly, and Thirst started toying with a knife on his belt.

 

"An unknown geneseed is the mark of Laziness, the Fifth Chaos God," Ace said, clearly quoting a line he'd heard somewhere else and liked alot.

 

" Pick a geneseed," Thirst suggested. "Any geneseed."

Noooooo, you are using my briliant line to make yourself look cool. That's wrong, wrong I'm tellin' ya.

 

I did add that it wasn't my line!

 

"Records aren't clear on the subje-" Deric began, but he was drowned out by the storm of cursing and gnashing of teeth from the Liber Council. The marine called Heru started swinging the skull-flail menacingly, and Thirst started toying with a knife on his belt.

 

"An unknown geneseed is the mark of Laziness, the Fifth Chaos God," recited, to this moment silent, hooded marine in monotone voice.

"Indeed, brother NightrawenII," noded Ace in agreement.

 

"Pick a geneseed," Thirst suggested. "Any geneseed."

Fixed. :P

I suppose I can work that in, though. Provided you don't mind only having the one line. ^_^

 

EDIT: It's in, along with a joke about how I can't do the voice right. ;)

Edited November 18, 2010 by Ace Debonair

[Apothete]

Ace...

 

Something seems to be missing. Something massive, plated, and smolderingly angry.

Edited November 23, 2010 by Apothete

[Ace Debonair]

Ace...

 

Something seems to be missing. Something massive, plated, and smolderingly angrty.

That's becasue we know better than to wake you up for a badly constructed chapter like the Claws of Hades. :blink:

I had to get get my bionic arm replaced last time I did something like that. Although, at least I got one of those new experimental ones that can play mp3s. Just a pity the wiring in the little finger isn't up to scratch. :wallbash:

 

EDIT: Not that I had a prepared answer in case you came stomping along armed with some wrath or anything, let me add. :lol:

Also, if anyone else wants to write sequels, I had to leave them someone to work with. :wallbash:

Edited November 23, 2010 by Ace Debonair

[Apothete]

EDIT: Not that I had a prepared answer in case you came stomping along armed with some wrath or anything, let me add. :lol:

Also, if anyone else wants to write sequels, I had to leave them someone to work with. :wallbash:

 

Writing sequels about myself would be so tacky, though. What would another of your horribly wronged castoffs have to say?

 

Maybe we should find Telveryon and ask him.

[NightrawenII]

Ace...

 

Something seems to be missing. Something massive, plated, and smolderingly angry.

[joke]Lads, who had awoken venerable-brother Apothete? *sigh* Now, he is going to bother us with his tiresome tales from his youth and endless complaining about these pansie-orks of today. I warned you, don't came to me crying.[/joke]

 

Hey, Apothete, nice to see you. :)

[Captain Juan Juarez]

The title gave me a really bad 300 flashback...

[Ace Debonair]

EDIT: Not that I had a prepared answer in case you came stomping along armed with some wrath or anything, let me add. :lol:

Also, if anyone else wants to write sequels, I had to leave them someone to work with. :D

 

Writing sequels about myself would be so tacky, though. What would another of your horribly wronged castoffs have to say?

 

Maybe we should find Telveryon and ask him.

Like I said, I had to stick to the people I know well enough to write about.

Mostly because I'm mortally terrified of offending or misrepresenting the other honoured veterans on this forum. ;)

 

Also, DAT did a sequel about himself, so there's precedent for such things. ;)

It's less parodical-self-deprication and more of a what-we-really-like-to-think-happens-here tale, but it's not without comedy moments. :D

 

Lads, who had awoken venerable-brother Apothete? *sigh* Now, he is going to bother us with his tiresome tales from his youth and endless complaining about these pansie-orks of today. I warned you, don't came to me crying.

It's not his fault the Orks of today are pansies, though.

Also, it's not important who accidentally happened to lean on the console that activates the Liber Dreadnoughts and just happened to wake them all up several months ahead of schedule. Just so long as we're all certain it wasn't me. :P

 

The title gave me a really bad 300 flashback...

Ah, you can't blame me for that. :D

Unless you meant the title for my story, in which case you can. :P

[Shinzaren]

Deric Mausland, Imperial Scholar, was getting old. He had come to the Legio halls as a relatively young man of the Imperium, fresh faced and full of hope for the future recordings of his uncountable greatness. Sadly however, fate had seen fit to throw a wrench in his plans, several of them actually, all wearing the trademark armor of the Adeptus Astartes. Deric came bearing a dataslate that he had filled with the history and deeds of a mighty chapter of these peerless warriors, and set about getting it recognized by the Legio. His initial presentation had gone...poorly, to say the least. Many of his once infallible ideas had been proven false, and to top it all off, he had taken a very large impact to his cranium, laying him up in the infirmary for several weeks. After these unfortunate, traumatic events, Deric recommitted himself to his goal, intent on detailing the history of the Chapter he had discovered, though this time doing so in a manner so as not to arouse the wrath of the Liber's guardians. That was nearly eighty years ago, and now Deric was well known member of the Liber, one of many serfs and scribes who had come to appreciate this hallowed place of knowledge and decided to stay. His chapter, the Claws of Vengeance had been refined and worked on over many years until at last the Librarium staff had seen to fit to declare it worthy of the Liber Astartes records. His joy was palpable, and his marine comrades, all of whom had aided him greatly over the years threw a massive feast in his honor, detailing the works and deeds of a normal man, Deric Mausland. He would never forget that day, even now, decades later.

 

It was a day long feast in the Liber's Hall of Honor. Copies of the history of the Claws of Vengeance were passed around, and several times Deric found himself being hauled to the top of the large table to make a speech or answer questions about the newest addition to the Legio records. He was invited to compete in bouts of drinking and strength, both of which nearly killed him. Still, the months in the infirmary were good ones, with his new brethren visiting him when they could. Each was an Astartes, and so combat and other duties kept them away for long periods of time, but each eventually returned to the Liber. Following his release, Deric decided to stay, choosing to help new arrivals deal with the pressure and standards of the Liber's halls. As one of the few non-Astartes, he had a singularly human viewpoint and was often called upon to give orientation to new scribes and scholars. It was a job he took to with great pride, and the decades had been the best he had ever had. Now, nearing a century old, Deric was no longer the spry lad he was. A century living among Astartes had toughened him mightily, and he was a formidable man, even for his age; but he was still old. Everyday was a struggle to rise, and he found himself depending more and more on servitors and bionics. As he rose to greet this new day, he drug himself out of bed and knelt down in his chamber, reciting his first prayers and meditations for the day. A habit he picked up from the more devout members of the Liber, Deric found that it helped center him for his day ahead. When he was finished, he rose with a series of cracks and pops and trundled down to the bathing quarters.

 

Emerging an hour later, fully dressed and groomed, Deric made his way out of the serfs quarters and down the long hallway to the Liber, pausing every now and then to cough and catch his breath. He passed the doors as he did everyday, earning nods of respect from the Astartes guardians at each portal. This never failed to amaze and humble Deric; that Astartes would offer him their respect. Such was the power of companionship in the Liber and the Legio that even a normal old man like him was afforded such courtesy. As he parted the great doors of the Liber and passed under the Aquilla clutching the book, he muttered a quick prayer of thanks to the Emperor and strode in, taking in the sights and smells of his home for the last century. All was right in Deric Mausland's world, until the chainaxe came flying through the air past his face, missing him by inches. He took a quick step back, just in time, as a Legio marine, armor painted black and red, came sailing past, following the axe. As he flew by, Deric noted the Fist-And-Lightning symbol on the white of his shoulder pad, humorously recognizing Veteran Sergeant Shinzaren as the unfortunate projectile. As the marine landed with a deafening thud, Deric calmly strode over to him and looked down at the prone giant with a quizzical grin.

 

"Are the combative action boards today?" Deric said aloud, "My memory must be going in my old age." As he finished, Shinzaren bolted to his feet, grabbing his axe as he he did. Noticing Deric for the first time, he turned and bowed to the old sage.

 

"Scribe Mausland, good to see you again." He paused as if remembering something before comprehension and worry set in. He turned towards the direction he flew from and held up his empty hand as he tried to shout. "Wait Ace! Its Deric, he's right here, stop for a mome--"

 

Shinzaren's warning was cut off as another chainaxe came flying through the air and impacted solidly with his breast plate, crumpling it as it tossed him backwards again. From the direction of the throw hearty laughter came forth. As the laughter got closer, Deric noticed another marine walking up, his long hair cascading down from under his ridiculous feathered hat. His hands were on his stomach as he tried to contain his bouts of laughter.

 

"You should have seen your face Shin! Right in the chest!" Deric recognized the new arrival as Veteran Sergeant Ace Debonair, of the Liber Heraldry Department. Deric bowed before looking into Ace's face, noticing he was starting to have trouble breathing from laughing too hard.

 

"Lord Ace, you're looking well. The boards are going in your favor then?" Ace finally controlled himself enough to address the tiny old man next to him as Shinzaren lay there, fumbling with the dent in his breastplate.

 

"You could say that Scribe Mausland, you could indeed say that." Shinzaren finally gave up trying to press the dent out and joined the conversation from the floor.

 

"You clearly saw me say stop! There was no call for that." Shinzaren himself was trying not to laugh as he dressed down his comrade. "Only a Son of Gulliman would be so inconsiderate."

 

"And only a Son of Dorn would be too foolhardy to duck." Ace shot back. "Besides, I was always going to win - I practically wrote the codex entry on chainaxe throwing." Ace pulled Shinzaren upright with a grin and began to walk deeper into the hall, exchanging further irreverant banter as they went.

 

"I thought that particular codex entry looked poorly written and barely bigger than an outline," Shinzaren chortled. Ace pulled a face of mock severity, which Shinzaren promptly ignored, turning to the scribe.

 

"So Deric, what tales are you spinning for us today? More of the Hades's Claws? Or was it the Claws of Hades?" Deric chuckled to himself, as Shinzaren's joke referenced events nearly eighty years ago. Only Astartes could remain for in control of themselves after so long. The trio paused momentarily as a bout of coughing seized the old scribe.

 

"Please Emperor, not that trainwreck again." Ace chuckled. "Thinking about that too hard causes geneseed defects, I'd swear it."

 

Eventually recovering from his coughing fit, Deric responded mildly to the jibe...

 

"Not today my lord, but there is always tomorrow, I hear the Ultratemplars are applying for admission again." That earned a chuckle as Ace joined in on the friendly needling with his own references of long lost events.

 

"Well, at least that unknown geneseed problem got cleared up, you know how those Heresy Department boys get when you bring up Laziness. 'Only four Chaos gods! Pick a geneseed so Laziness remains without power'" Ace mimicked with a laugh. As the three companions walked down past the towering data stacks and glowing plinths, Deric cast his eyes around, noting the members of the Liber as he did.

 

He saw a pair of marines with the signature eight-pointed star pendents arguing with what appeared to be a Inquisitorial representative, a guess Deric hazarded after noting an abundance of I's on the human's garments and weapons. He could catch snippets, but he definitely heard the words 'unknown parent chapter' and 'marauding warband.' This led him to conclude that a new band of vile renegades had sprung up and the Inquisition wanted to know where they came from. Clearly the Inquisitor had his own ideas, which Ecritter and Thirst didn't share. Poor Inquisitor, Deric thought, those two could be pretty stubborn when they needed to be. Still, few could match their traitorous knowledge, though Deric often wondered if that was an insult or a compliment. Further down he noticed a marine with a menacing flail that appeared to be made of single human spine threatening another marine. He was waving the flail about and making gestures that even a blind man could see implied where the flail was going to end next. His victim was a Legio marine with a bronze chapter pad, bearing a golden skull and two scythes. That would be Cambrius, which meant the argument was no doubt about the colors of a chapter up for review. Heru, the flail wielding marine, often made attempts to reign in the Liber Heraldry Departments more... radical schemes, but even his legendary flail seemed hardly up to the task. The marines of the LHD were gifted with hard heads, even for Astartes.

 

As the trio passed a data slate, Deric heard shouting and a rather fierce argument going on to his side, and he paused, stopping the group as he went to investigate. Rounding a corner, he saw one of the review chambers was open, and a scribe was furiously shouting at a group of Astartes, whose faces showed that they were rapidly losing patience. He signaled Ace and Shinzaren to continue without him as he strode towards the chambers. As he walked away, he heard Shinzaren compliment Ace on the force of the throw, and Ace's response about how it was all in the wrist. Smiling to himself, he entered the argument. As he passed through the doorway, he received several nods from the assembled Astartes and he returned them with his. The leader of the review board gestured for silence and when the room quieted, he spoke to Deric.

 

"Welcome Scribe Mausland. Your arrival here is quite fortuitous. One of your brethren is apparently in need of your aid." The speaker was a grim faced marine with a black chapter pad bearing a flaming hand.

 

"I'll see what I can do Lord Ignis." Deric said with a smile, turning to face a younger version of himself. The lad was barely out of his twenties, and rounded on Deric with an angry look.

 

"What do you want old man," a greeting that elicited several grumbles and the clanking of hands reaching for weapons. Deric was humbled to be afforded such high regard by his Astartes companions, but focused instead on the scholar in front of him, which was hard as another bout of coughing seized him. He hacked for awhile before slowly catching his breath and addressing the boy.

 

"You seem to be having issues child, issues I myself once faced. As one of the few non-Astartes here, perhaps I could assist you?" Deric nodded at Ignis, who turned and gestured at his brethren, leading them to file out of the room, giving the scribes some privacy. As he did, Deric noticed him strike up a happy conversation with another marine that Deric recognized as Ghost, so named for his home chapter, the Shadow Lords. Deric caught snippets of the conversation, then the shouted word Purifiers as Ignis became more animated. Suppressing a smile so as not to upset his guest, Deric resumed his conversation.

 

"These Astartes are so bloody arrogant and superior! Who are they to tell me what this Chapter I discovered is? I researched it, I chronicled it, and it was I, Jetin Fethror, who brought them to the attention of this so-called Legio!" As the scribes voice became louder and angrier, Deric thought he heard a low growl. Looking past the scribe, he noticed a pair of glowing red eyes and polished ball glinting from the shadows. Fearful of upsetting the dark knight of the Liber, he ushered his new charge out of the review hall as he tried to reason with him. If he let the lad run his mouth off to long in the Liber's halls, dark and dangerous entities would make their wrath known. The legend of the Batman began here with good reason.

 

As they walked and talked, Deric began to flash back to his introduction to Liber and his naive ideas. He continued to question the youth as they walked, until they made their way to great meeting hall of the Liber. Though packed with marines, they were able to find a seat, and continued to discuss the chapter. They went back and forth about the pros and cons of Jetin's ideas, slowly helping the younger scribe see his error. As they talked many marines entered and exited the hall, and many stopped to have a word or hello with Deric. Trying to impress upon his youthful charge the marines weren't godlike arrogant jerks, he introduced each to his young friend. As the lad's anger subsided and his wonder at interacting with Astartes began to lessen, Deric saw him appraise his work with new eyes. He began to make changes, small at first, but all important. It filled him with pride to know that he helped another of the Emperor's scholars towards the completion of their great work. As a giant marine with an iron colored chapter pad sat and began to chat with Deric, he felt himself getting very tired. He tried to keep up with Lysimachus and Jetin's conversation, but he began to drift off, a contented smile on his face as he did. His was a blessed life, to have been lived among Astartes as he did, to be treated with such kindness as he was. As Jetin began to discuss better ideas with Lysimachus and Aquilanus, who had joined the conversation, Deric Mausland, Imperial Scholar, closed his eyes and breathed his last breath.

 

Before any of the companions of his table even noticed his passing, a pair of giant marines, large even for an Astartes, approached the table. At the side of the first was a gold plated Melta, stamped with the aquilla of the Emperor while second bore the blue trim and psychic hood of a Lexicanum. Ignoring the conversation, the Librarian, whose hands were of gleaming metal, gently lifted Deric from his bench. Conversation throughout the hall stopped at the appearance of one of the great moderati, and then in reverence as they realized a brother had passed on. As the second giant, known as Ferrata, cleared the way, his silver handed companion followed. As the pair began to walk outwards, the marines of the Liber formed two columns, making a great hallway of bodies for the silver handed warrior to pass through. Fists were clutched to breastplates as the honor guard of the Liber saluted their fallen companion. If Deric would have been alive, he would have seen the sorrowful faces of the Liber, legends all, paying their respects to him, a normal man. From Grey Hunter Ydalir, who first welcomed him to this hall, to cold Nightrawen, who spent many a night arguing with the scholar for the betterment of the Liber, each was present. Silver Phoenix, Hrvat, Reyner, Erasmus of Baal, Trub, Ludovic, The Dark Master of the 11th Co, The 22nd Luy, and Hubernator all stood for him; it was these greats and many more beside who stood in attendance. As Deric was carried past into the Liber's main presentation chamber, Ace and Shinzaren stood silent vigil outside, bowing slightly as he passed. Even Librarian Sigismund roused himself from his nap to stand peacefully for him, and throughout the Liber, a moment of silence was observed. As he was gently lain on the stone pedestal of the great hall, a shout went up, breaking the serenity.

 

"Deric Mausland, Scribe of the Emperor! Deric Mausland, Brother of the Liber!" The cry was echoed by all in attendance, and cheers went up for him. As the Liber is apt to do, the celebration of Deric Mausland got out of hand, and only the gold melta of the mighty moderati brought it back in line. After firing a warning blast, the giant spoke.

 

"Honor him as he lived. Continue his work. Carry on." With that, the Liber members slowly returned to their tasks, but each made time throughout the day to pass by Deric's serene body and make a prayer to the Emperor. Eventually the Liber returned to normal and Deric was laid to rest in the crypts of the Legio, buried with honor. It said to this day, that when the Board of Combative Actions is in full swing, and the echo of arguments and chainswords reaches a fevered pitch; when the Liber is filled with seekers of knowledge and those who honor the Emperor; when Shinzaren and Ace do battle across the Liber's halls; then it is said that Deric Mausland's laugh can be heard, and if one listens carefully, one might hear the tiniest bit of advice, or receive the elusive inspiration they were needing. Deric Mausland, Imperial Scholar, would help the Liber, even in death...

 

Apologies if your name wasn't mentioned. The story is first and foremost about Deric Mausland, but I tried to fit as many members as I could remember in. Don't be insulted if you are not in there, just realize that did the best I could! I am sorry if I missed you!

Edited December 5, 2011 by Shinzaren

[Chapter Master Ignis Domus]

Ooh, I'm now chief honcho of the review board. Now, with the corrup tuse of this non-existent power, I can spread the name Purifiers throughout the galaxy. Mwa ha ha ha ha! :) :)

 

That might have been a bit too obvious...

[Shinzaren]

Leader of THAT review board haha. Not all. :angry:

 

EDIT: Huge apologies to anyone I may have missed or that didn't get a mention. The story is mainly about Deric, but I tried to get as many people as I could in there in some form or another. If I have forgotten you, or glossed you over accidently, I apologize!

Edited December 1, 2011 by Shinzaren

[Ace Debonair]

The fact you killed off a character I invented without asking is, I suppose, mitigated by me pulling out a curbstomp in the fight. :angry:

 

And, I suppose, it's proabably the way he'd want to go.

 

 

Might I make a suggestion for the dialogue, though*;

 

"You clearly saw me say stop! There was no call for that." Shinzaren himself was trying not to laugh as he dressed down his comrade. "Only a Son of Gulliman would be so inconsiderate."

 

"And only a Son of Dorn would be too foolhardy to duck." Ace shot back. "Besides, I was always going to win - I practically wrote the codex entry on chainaxe throwing." Ace pulled Shinzaren upright with a grin and began to walk deeper into the hall, exchanging further irreverant banter as they went.

 

"I thought that particular codex entry looked poorly written and barely bigger than an outline," Shinzaren chortled. Ace pulled a face of mock severity, which Shinzaren promptly ignored, turning to the scribe.

 

"So Deric, what tales are you spinning for us today? More of the Hades's Claws? Or was it the Claws of Hades?" Deric chuckled to himself, as Shinzaren's joke referenced events nearly eighty years ago. Only Astartes could remain for in control of themselves after so long. The trio paused momentarily as a bout of coughing seized the old scribe.

 

"Please Emperor, not that trainwreck again." Ace chuckled. "Thinking about that too hard causes geneseed defects, I'd swear it."

 

Eventually recovering from his coughing fit, Deric responded mildly to the jibe...

 

 

*It's the Liber, after all. C&C happens. :blink:

 

...The next story is going to have to be about the Purinator Crusade, isn't it?

[Chapter Master Ignis Domus]

Of course. Don't be silly. There is no other option.

[Ace Debonair]

Of course. Don't be silly. There is no other option.

You know, I'd write a Purifiers IA if it wouldn't basically be the Red Lords, but in white armour.

 

For much that same reason, I'm totally not covering the Purinator crusade should I pen any future instalments of this. I'll get it wrong, and need Purinating. :angry:

 

EDIT:

Also, where is Cambrius' story?

 

I really want to know who the heck else is in the Liber Heraldry Dept. Fighting Shin for the honour of the faction is one thing, but not knowing whose honour I am defending with Courage, Honour and Awesome Chainaxe-Throwing-Skills is beginning to get to me.

Edited December 1, 2011 by Ace Debonair

[Chapter Master Ignis Domus]

Come now. There's such a huge amount of background by now that the IA is practically written. It's so well-known that Mr. Ward even put them in the Grey Knights codex. :angry:

[Shinzaren]

The fact you killed off a character I invented without asking is, I suppose, mitigated by me pulling out a curbstomp in the fight. :angry:

 

And, I suppose, it's proabably the way he'd want to go.

I do apologize for that. I just sat down to write the whole thing just spun out. If you would like me change who it was or anything, I will gladly accommodate you. He is your character after all, though I gave you 80 odd years for his adventures to be told in :) And I incorporated your hat... :blink:

 

 

Might I make a suggestion for the dialogue, though*;

You may. I have incorporated it word for word :)

 

...The next story is going to have to be about the Purinator Crusade, isn't it?

Well, that would be someone else's to write. I've done my part haha.

[Ace Debonair]

The fact you killed off a character I invented without asking is, I suppose, mitigated by me pulling out a curbstomp in the fight. :blink:

 

And, I suppose, it's proabably the way he'd want to go.

I do apologize for that. I just sat down to write the whole thing just spun out. If you would like me change who it was or anything, I will gladly accommodate you. He is your character after all, though I gave you 80 odd years for his adventures to be told in :) And I incorporated your hat... :)

 

Good point. The Hat is the real star of the show, after all. :angry:

 

Our next fight should totally be a jousting competition on bikes. I might not have wrote the codex on bike jousting, but I did pen an addendum once at 2 AM in the morning. I woke up at 7 AM with an inexplicable bowling-ball shaped bruise on my face, but I still did it!

 

EDIT:

Also a broken arm that might have been caused by spine-flail-based injury, but could just as easily have been caused by Venerable Apothete since somebody woke him up a year ago.

Crazy days. Crazy days...

Edited December 2, 2011 by Ace Debonair

[Brother Cambrius]

A fine piece of writing Shinz, made me smile and chuckle in the dark depths of Western Wales...I really need to get a form of shielding against that skull flail though at some point...

 

EDIT:

Also, where is Cambrius' story?

 

My story is slowly being worked on Ace, however at this moment, my University Dissertation has taken over all priorities in its completion. I must do well in it so I can earn enough moneys to continue to sate my plastic and resin addiction. -_-

 

Cambrius