++Inspirational Friday - 19/06/2015++

[Carrack]

Gallery of Unrequited Rage

 

Aspiring Champion Vinno took a knee over the body of his last victim. After the slaughter of Fewood's cultural center of Orchard's Hallow, he wished to anoint his power sword with the blood of innocents. This ritual, which he often repeated after slaughters, was designed to please his patron god, but really only gave his sword a red glow, as opposed to the blue glow of most power weapons. Vinno still would have done it anyway, even if he knew his god's indifference. In the midst of his ritual, Vinno was interrupted by Gilvira, the woman blessed with the tattooed inscription of the 616 epistle of Lorgar, the rumored paramour of Lord Carrack, and the reward the Black Maw was using to entice the Word Bearer's mercenaries into service. Smacking her gums while chewing on some sugary pink sweet, Gilvira asked, "Whatcha doing Big V?" Vinno hated it when she called him that. But this woman was favored by his lord, and he had best keep his temper in check. He began to explain the ritual when she interrupted him saying, "That's boring, I want to go check out that art gallery on the corner, escort me." What was Vinno to do? He was in no position to deny a member of his Lord's court, so the two strolled over to the gallery and made entry through a demolisher shell hole. It may have been the first time in 10 millennia that Vinno, a Black Legion warrior and devotee of Khorne had strolled anywhere.

 

Vinno's appreciation of art started and ended at what he could gain from selling art taken in plunder, and he had thralls to assess and sell that. Even so, he could tell that the vapid woman had even less of an eye for the works in the gallery. They meandered through the gallery until a fresco caught Gilvira's eye. The fresco of all things, depicted the Emperor knighting a dark and brooding Corax. The hairs on Vinno's neck rose and his teeth clenched when Gilvira asked, "Oh I like this one, what do you think Big V?" Vinno wanted to bash her skull into the fresco until neither was recognizable, but if he did his life would be forfeit at the hands of his lord. Instead he merely said, "That's not how I remember them." Gilvira was as oblivious to the implications of Vinno's statement, as she was about seemingly everything else in the Black Maw Warband. This was the most infuriating thing about her, she wasn't baiting the Chaos Champion, she really was that ditzy. "Oh well, I'm bored now, escort me back to Carrack." Gilvira said as she stuck out her arm like some dilettante. Then Vinno, a 10,000 year old veteran of the long war, a genetically engineered demigod empowered by the warp, a warrior who had sent countless skulls to the Skull Throne of Khorne, took her arm and walked her back to field command.

 

 

Comedy is a lot tougher than I thought, I hope this works.

[Tenebris]

http://shrani.si/f/1a/o3/bgHYhQ/gallery2900410383202531.png
 
Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. This week we had just two contributions and both were very good. The reward goes to Warsmith Aznable and his sidekick The Wretch. I especially liked the "transfer" of ownership part. 

 

Step forth Warsmith Aznable and claim your reward!

 

http://shrani.si/f/e/r4/KG83M5z/15/friday-award.png

 

Inspirational Friday - 19/06/2015 - Chaos Skirmish - Tactical Squads

 

I have something special this week. Unlike in the previous IF, today I will offer you simply a stage and on this stage you have to play an event. Try to convey the philosophy and physicality of your warband with their actions and show us how your Chaos Space Marines would act in such a situation. If you take the role of the Imperial Space Marines, the same applies. 

 

Locale: A farmstead on an Agri-World. The farmstead offers some defense with its high walls and big farming equipment but on itself it is not an important resource to capture. Surrounding the farmstead there is a forest on the East, West and North, while there is open farmland with blooming greenfruit in the South. The South also has the main road approaching the farmstead. 

 

Objective: Chaos and the SM defenders fight skirmishes for the control of the Green Road, the main arterial road which connects the vast farmlands in the South with Nova Serra, the capital. The control of the roads is imperative for its mechanized convey system and tracked railroads are important to deliver what is due, the tithe of men and food goods. The CSM are in dire need to resupply so the fight for the farmstead and its surrounding area is ferocious. 

 

Actors: A Chaos Space Marines "tactical" squad and an Imperial Space Marines Tactical Squad. Chose who acts as defender and who as the attacker. They both command similar martial power and you are also allowed to field cult troops instead. Ten marines on each side plus auxiliary units (Scouts, Imperial Guard, Cultists, Daemons...). 

 

Bonus: Control the farmstead. Gather the enemy geneseed (for implantation or for observation). Contain your losses. Maintain the infrastructure. 

 

Let us be inspired!

 

Tenebris

[Kierdale]

Congratulations, Warsmith Aznable and good work Carrack too. I just couldn't get my juices flowing over a sidekick.

 

And kudos, Tenebris! This week's new topic is really a good one!

A hint of Rogue Trader's The Battle At The Farm and a chance to show how our warbands handle things.

I'm almost tempted to write it both ways, as attacker and defender.

[MaliGn]

Congratulations, Warsmith Aznable and good work Carrack too. I just couldn't get my juices flowing over a sidekick.

And kudos, Tenebris! This week's new topic is really a good one!

A hint of Rogue Trader's The Battle At The Farm and a chance to show how our warbands handle things.

I'm almost tempted to write it both ways, as attacker and defender.

Based on the brief it sounds like it might change hands a few times!

[Aspiringchaoschampion]

Ok here's my attempt at it

Bullets began flying at them from the fortress. Nemeroth sent word through the coms link on his personal land raider the Harbinger of Despair to make haste to the enemy's lines. Rows upon rows of dirty white rhinos and land raiders rolling forwards towards the enemy lines backed up by squadrons of predators and vindicators and a few rare scaring battle tanks tearing apart the Ultramarine vehicle squadrons. Weaving in between this was Lord Mordreath and his company of bikers proving hard for the enemy to stop. They needed to clear a area for the teleporting Terminators and the swift striking assault marines to hit home and really begin this siege.

 

The Ultramarines were firing at the oncoming vehicle columns with every lascannon missile launcher and demolished she'll they could manage but by some strange sorceror the vehicles kept either vanishing behind a cloud of daemonic flies or completely vanishing from sight.

 

Being almost in close range of the enemy lines Mordreath ordered his bikers to be ready for the ensuing assault. As Rhinos began to disgorge plague marines chaos space marine havocs and chosen the aerial battle above finally came to a conclusion with the chaos forces emerging victorious.

 

As the bikers reached the imperial lines they began charging their bikes at the Ultramarines firing their bolters plasma guns Melta Guns and flamers before drawing their pistols and chain swords some wielding deadly power weapons others wielding a power fist or lightening claw.

 

As the bikes began slashing and stabbing left and right while those champions who were lucky enough to be gifted with a lightening claw or power fist were killing any loyalists who came near by. As cultists emerged from the tunnels they had built and began to run at the ultramarine lines trained ranks of Ultramarines used bolters missile launchers flamers and heavy bolter fire to try and push the chaos forces back. Many Ultramarines would fall this day to the chaos assault forcing the Ultramarines to retreat until they could receive reinforcement from the imperial forces due to enter the system

[Slave to Darkness]

im in... gonna do this as a battle report. :P

[Warsmith Aznable]

Comedy is a lot tougher than I thought, I hope this works.

It definitely worked. You painted a vivid picture of the situation and the two characters inside a very tight word limit, and it was a fun read.

Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. This week we had just two contributions and both were very good. The reward goes to Warsmith Aznable and his sidekick The Wretch. I especially liked the "transfer" of ownership part.

Step forth Warsmith Aznable and claim your reward!

http://shrani.si/f/e/r4/KG83M5z/15/friday-award.png

I accept this reward and the kind words of yourself and Kierdale.

This next scenario is interesting and I look forward to taking a crack at it!

[Carrack]

Thanks for the encouragement Warsmith, and congrats on another victory well deserved.

 

I liked this week's challenge quite a bit, so I worked up this story. It may be a tad long, but I opted not to trim it down.

 

Skull Road

 

 

Vinno looked up from the rhino's command console just in time to see the white contrails of a missile streaking towards his squad's rhino from the farmstead wall. The driver-thrall leaned hard into the steering bar as Vinno shouted, "Brace for impact." The missile struck the rhino in the left flank with a shaped charge that concentrated the explosion into the armor of Squad Vinno's rhino. The armor held, after a fashion, but the interior side of the struck area spalled and fragments pinged through the armored vehicle, ignored by the Black Legionaries in their ancient power armor, but tearing into the back of the driver-thrall, straight through his fiber weave seat. To his credit, he did not cry out in pain, merely acknowledged the injury, and pulled the chain that launched the smoke grenades. Vinno and his squad bailed out and took cover behind the damaged vehicle.

 

Vinno took stock of the situation. They were on the Green Road a long bolter shot south of the farmstead they were suppose to capture and use as a base of operations to raid and eventually shut down the Imperial logistical convoys that passed through this area. The farmstead had a crude wall, probably more to keep out predators than enemies, but the wall had been reinforced with tractors parked along it at regular intervals. He could spot a few red loyalist helmets popping up over the makeshift fortifications. Forest surrounded the northern, eastern, and western sides of the farmstead, but the southern approach was grain fields and the green road. Except for a thin line of trees that followed the western side of the road, no doubt feeding on the water in the drainage ditch on that side. That would have to be his approach. Legionary Copil reported that he had made vox contact with the cultist rabble following behind in their stolen 5 ton cargo hauler. They had dismounted and should arrive in 2-3 minutes. Unreliable bolter fodder.

 

After a few curt commands in Cthonian Battle Cant, squad Vinno ran though the billowing smoke and jumped the drainage ditch into the line of trees. At the same time the second part of the complex ambush revealed itself. Another contrail, this time from the line of trees that Vinno had just reached streaked into the rhino through the billowing smoke and tore apart the left track off the APC. The wounded and dazed driver-thrall remotely returned fire at the unknown assailants with the still functioning combi-bolter. He was rewarded with a scream. As Vinno's squad rushed North through the trees, the zinging of silenced rounds cut into the squad. Vinno took a round off his helm, but in his growing rage ignored it. The rest of the rounds struck trees or missed, save one, which punched through the eye lens of Avarg, causing him to sit abruptly on the ground and start babbling insults in a tongue Vinno was unfamiliar with. He was pretty sure Avarg was equally unfamiliar with the language he was using, but that they were insults was obvious. Vinno's squad advanced while clamping boltguns to backpacks and drawing chainswords and bolt pistols, save for the two flamer Legionaries who opened up their nozzles and sprayed the general area of the snipers with burning promethium. Their fires revealed 4 loyalist scouts in red and orange armor, 3 of which were burning like torches. Fitting, these were the Angels of Immolation, thinblood lackeys of the Corpse God. The remaining sniper was cut down with a barrage of bolt pistol shots that blew apart his left knee and right shoulder. Squad Vinno continued their advance.

 

The slaughter of the scout squad only wetted Vinno's appetite for blood. They were merely boys, not true warriors, and his blade had yet to taste the thinned blood of the loyalists. It was dissatisfying, and served only to increase his blood craving, much the same way a single sip of spirits only enhanced the thirst of a drunk. Vinno could hear the call of the Blood God, at present it was like a voice shouting in the distance, but he knew it would grow louder. The god demanded skulls and blood, blood and skulls. Vinno glanced over his squad and knew that they heard the call as well.

 

The Black Legionnaires advanced through the line of trees until they reached the closest point to the farmstead that the tree line extended, all the while bolt rounds were cutting through the scant cover, detonating against trees and armor alike. The Astartes power armor held against the mass reactive shells, the trees blew apart into showers of splinters. Fortune smiled on the Legionnaires of the Black Maw Warband, and the end of the tree line shaded a large water trough and some benches undoubtedly where the farmers took their rest. It would make a good point to consolidate before the mad charge at the farmstead. They hit the dirt out of sight of the defenders and reloaded their pistols. Before they were recovered they heard chanting coming from the Green Road, followed by controlled boltgun shots and the whistle of another missile. The cultist were attempting to rush the gate. With the enemy distracted, now was the time.

 

Before Vinno could give the order to charge, "Saint" Tiam hoisted up the icon of the Blood God and charged out into no man's land. The squad, unwilling to let their symbol of faith fall alone, followed. Grenades flew from the Chaos Marines, and bolts shot wildly from the defenders. One bolt winged Paimun in the arm beneath his great pauldron and sent him spinning into the dirt. But the Angels of Immolation were prepared defenders, and they knew the likely avenue of approach for the heretics, and had stationed their own flamer to cover the approach. As squad Vinno neared the wall, a loyalist leaned out over it with his flamer and played it out across the charging Legionnaires. Tiam took the brunt of the flames, but they did not find a way into the vulnerable creases in his armor. Madras however, caught fire in his neck and armpit joints, as he screamed the fire changed from red to a hellish green, as his soul was sent back to the warp. They reached the wall with leaps that would be the envy of mortal athletes. Vinno shouted, "We are returned!", and the slaughter commenced. Vinno quickly sought out the loyalist sergeant, a white helmed Astartes bearing a chainsword and bolt pistol, and pressed the attack. The sergeant managed to land a downward cut with his chainsword that shaved a chunk off of Vinno's left horn, but could not find purchase on his pauldron. Vinno let his pistol fall to the end of its chain and caught the sergeant's wrist with his free hand. He then pulled the sergeant off balance while cross cutting out with his power sword. The sergeants head, still in its white helm sailed a dozen feet off the wall. Vinno's backswing amputated both legs of another loyalist who was engaged with Obbo. The rest of the loyalist fell to a man, overwhelmed by the onslaught of attacks from the Legionnaires. The day belonged to the Black Maw Warband.

 

Vinno counted two of his squad dead, and three more wounded, along with his rhino destroyed. Of the cultist rabble, three came filtering in over the last hour, the rest dead or deserted. But he had taken the objective, and with reinforcements could shut down the Imperial supply route. 15 loyalist skulls were piled on the Green Road, their owners being further desecrated by the members of Vinno's Squad. Tiam in particular, was crudely harvesting their geneseed, stealing their legacy so it could be perverted into bolstering the Black Maw's ranks.

 

The actions that day at the farmstead on Green Road, along with further raids launched from the same farmstead, caused the locals to stop referring to the road as the Green Road. Instead it's new name is whispered as the Skull Road.

 

[Kierdale]

Battle at the farm

Hidden Content

“Hey, sarge, how do I get out of this grox-spit outfit?”

Before sergeant Slater could reprimand the private, the whiner was nailed with a fearsome stare by commissar Flint.

The torrential downpour and occasional lightning drowned out almost all sound -and indeed it hid the squad’s advance and likely had swallowed up the private’s moaning- but Slater was sure he could hear the tapping of the commissar’s fingers on the patent leather holster of his bolt pistol. The stern officer popped the catch and drew the oversized pistol, his eyes still on the private, who hefted his lasrifle, adjusted his helmet and turned to look up the road toward the farm, squinting in the last hours of light.

The commissar gave a nod and the sergeant noticed the sides of the older man’s mouth rise in the slightest hint of a grim smile. The smile he always had before combat. A smile Slater had seen lead countless men to their deaths in the name of the Emperor.

Third squad had been tasked with taking and holding the Baker farmstead, overlooking the Green Road: the main north-south route in this region. The owners had apparently -quite pragmatically- evacuated the area some weeks ago when the renegade forces had arrived. `Arrived` wasn’t entirely correct though, as pockets of heretics had wormed their way into the various sects of the Imperial Cult here on Phioria 7 and all strata of society. When they had revealed themselves infrastructure had ground to a halt within days. And they possessed -having both squirrelled away over countless years and in the uprising seized- considerable military hardware. Thankfully not all were particularly skilled in its use. The 98^th Cadian Alpine Rangers had been the nearest regiment capable of sending aid and word was that Astartes were also inbound. The 98^th had been able to hold up the insane masses but it was going to take post-humans to prevent it becoming a long war of attrition.

Command had been relieved at the arrival of a space marine battle barge in orbit and had rushed to hail the Harbinger of Hades to apprise them of the situation. The Astartes had responded with an orbital bombardment centered on regimental command’s coordinates. Since then command had been at company level. He had heard rumours, unbelievable rumours easily dismissed, of renegade Astartes existing but had never believed it. It shook Slater to the core that the Emperor’s Angels of Death could turn from His light and only the preaching of the regimental ministers - and to a lesser extent Flint’s bolt pistol - kept the aged sergeant in the fight.

Squint and Cueball, the squad’s sharpshooter and his void-born spotter, found that the farmstead was already occupied by the enemy: ten cultists. One on lookout on each side of the farmhouse, autoguns held casually, the rest making themselves at home in the living room and making sport of the Bakers. Apparently the family hadn’t made it out in time after all.

Once the squad was in position Squint took out the lookout on their side, synchronizing his shot with the boom of a lightning bolt. A brace of frags went through the living room as the rest of the squad advanced, taking out the majority of the tattooed, pierced freaks and no doubt putting the Bakers out of their misery.

Commissar Flint then took his position to the side of the front door as guardsmen stacked up behind him and on the other side of the doorway. He booted in the door and vanished within only to be thrown back out less than a second later, his broken body riding a deafening shockwave which smashed every remaining window in the building and splintered the doorframe.

Jameson swept the doorway with the flamer to cover his squadmate’s retreat, Slater grabbing his vox-op’s webbing and hauling him away from the house, back toward the perimeter wall as the harsh bang of bolt guns opened up from within the farm house. Jameson fell first and the man next to him was engulfed in the fireball as a shot penetrated the flamer’s tank.

Slater threw himself and the younger guardsman over the wall. Good, hard Phioria granite. They landed elbow deep in the mud on the other side and kissed it.

“Get on the blower,” he called to the vox-op, “Get backup. Now!”

Squint’s rifle kept up a slow but steady tempo, covering another guardsman as he vaulted the wall only to be hit midair, sheet lightning ripping across the heavens and illuminating the ruin a bolt shell made of the human form for all to see.

“How many?” Slater called to Cueball.

The spotter did not look up from his binocs nor did he cease his commentary to Squint, but raised a couple of fingers toward the sergeant, who hoped the gesture was a kill count.

There was a sound like the scream of a banshee, first rising in volume then suddenly cut, as if the sound had been sucked inward...then a boom as the sharpshooter team were torn apart by another sonic blast.

“You made the call? Help’s on the way?”

The vox-op looked up long enough to nod at his squad leader before burying his head once more.

Slater patted him on the back and hefted his lasrifle. He’d do his best to keep the enemy - traitor Astartes, it had to be - busy until backup arrived.

 

He had no idea how much time had passed. The torrential downpour had not ceased and smoke rose from his rifle’s barrel, water hissing upon the metal. He had no idea if he had managed any kills, but he had kept the enemy from venturing out of the building. Or were they just toying with him? Either way, he was sure there were five traitor Astartes within.

He had moved around to the far side, his night vision slowly returning after being robbed of it by the blast of Jameson’s flamer, when a sound made him look up.

A meteor? That would surely be a bad end to a bad battle in a bad war on a worthless little mudball of a planet, he thought to himself as the fireball streaked toward him from the heavens. It flared brighter as retro engines engaged and Slater swore -as much in relief as surprise- as the drop pod slammed down inside the farm house.

Bolts exploded and the petal-like doors blew open, gusting fire and clouds of dirt through the remains of the house, bringing down most of the internal walls and floors.

The ten Astartes within, clad in the dark green and brilliant white of the Mentor Legion, debarked swiftly, firing on the move. From his vantage point at the perimeter wall Slater saw more gouts of flame scour in the side of the building and bulky silhouettes moved through the smoke, which was lit from within by the muzzle flare of bolters on both sides. There were no cries of pain nor orders shouted out, just a rapid rally of gunfire. To unleash such destructive firepower at such short range! The smoke and debris was cleared briefly by another sonic blast and Slater saw one of the pastel-armoured marines - the colours of his armour more akin to rotten flesh in the dying light - ram the long, low barrel of his curious weapon into the gut of one Mentor. The traitor pulled some trigger deep within his weapon, blowing the Mentor apart and smearing the remains of him and the marine behind him over what little of the walls still stood.

But the traitors were outnumbered. The one with the sonic weapon was cut down by coordinated fire by two of the other Mentors while the rest of the squad forced the turncoats back.

The house was now ablaze and Slater watched as horned and hunched silhouettes, not those smooth, heroic forms of loyalist Astartes, ran from the rear of the building toward the nearest cover: the farm’s large barn. Eager to deny them cover and concealment, one of the Mentor Legion took a knee and raised a tubular weapon to his shoulder. A comrade knelt by him and tapped him on the shoulder before raising a bolt gun to cover them both. A missile shot forth and the barn went up in a cloud of splinters...

From within which there was a roar of engines and headlights of several vivid hues sprung to life. The traitors’ Rhino charged forth and Slater saw another five traitors run out from behind its cover before a grill-mouthed demonic-faced device atop the APC let out a scream which shook his very soul and voided his bowels.

He did not see the final clash between the Mentor Legion and the Psychopomps but when the rain finally ceased and the sky began to lighten once more with His light, Slater raised his head to see ten post-human corpses, atop crimson-slicked stakes, five either side of the roadway. All had been stripped of their armour and equipment, and many of them their very faces.

He turned and fled.

[Carrack]

@ Kierdale. "Hey sarge, how do I get out of this grox-spit outfit?" Sounds familiar :) I may have heard something similar at least a hundred times.

[Kierdale]

@ Kierdale. "Hey sarge, how do I get out of this grox-spit outfit?" Sounds familiar :) I may have heard something similar at least a hundred times.

I make no claims to originality there :D

[Excessus]

@ Kierdale. "Hey sarge, how do I get out of this grox-spit outfit?" Sounds familiar I may have heard something similar at least a hundred times.

I make no claims to originality there

We all know the 40k universe is full of pop-cultire references anyway. You're just keeping up with tradition, hehe :)

[Warsmith Aznable]

Oh man, I really wanted to do this one. I've got the story written in my head, but writing time got away from me this week.

[Excessus]

http://shrani.si/f/1a/o3/bgHYhQ/gallery2900410383202531.png

Greetings, brothers!

So the latest Inspirational Friday topic has been Chaos Skirmish - Tactical Squads. It was inspiring to read through the writing and imagine the various battles. That poor farmstead... Well, it's a very tough pick as usual even with only three participants(I had to sleep on it)...but Kierdale, "A winner is you" as the old NES-game said.

Here is another badge for your collection, congratulations!

http://shrani.si/f/e/r4/KG83M5z/15/friday-award.png




It's been a long journey and it has been a great journey. There has been a ton of fun for us all and what great things this topic has produced. (I still remember having an actual nightmare from one of the stories in here!) Tenebris will always be remembered for the hard work he put into this thread, a fine job. But as things have changed, this thread has to change as well.

Now, this is not the end, far from it! We will take a break while restructuring things a bit and then the "Inspirational Friday" will rise again!

So, thanks to all participants, and don't let your writing skills get rusty...they will surely be needed again soon!

[Excessus]

Hi again :)

 

Forgot to say that the "Challenge the Traitors" poem competition will end as schedueled on the 30th of June.

 

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/309189-inspirational-friday-challenge-the-traitors-ii/

[Lucernius]

Cant PM you tenebris, but wanted to let you know that i finished your two last ships! Took a while for me, alot of RL stuff, work, family and other commitments!

All three are below here enjoy!

http://orig10.deviantart.net/c343/f/2015/262/7/8/warband_of_the_broken_seal_idolator_class_raider_by_m00nprophet-d9a3zlt.png

http://orig09.deviantart.net/a4cf/f/2015/262/7/d/warband_of_the_broken_seal__repulsive_class_grand__by_m00nprophet-d9a3zlq.png

And the ship you already seen!

http://orig01.deviantart.net/33a8/f/2015/096/d/f/chaos_warband_of_the_broken_seal_desolator_class_by_m00nprophet-d8omx7u.png

[MaliGn]

Hate to break it to you but Tenebris got banned a couple of months back...