OH BOY

dumping the last few chapters first, then new stuff

9-022-001-M42
“They’s everywhere at once, boss!” a Nob yelled angrily, firing his shoota into the treeline. Hedbreakuh slapped him upside the head.
“I know that, ya git! Get the burnaboyz up here, we’re going ta torch ‘dis whole forest!” he hollered. The pack of boyz behind him charged up to the trees, hosing them down with napalm and promethium. One of them pitched forward, his back ablaze, a hole appearing in his tank and engulfing him in burning promethium. The others spun to face the spot in the trees where the shot had come from, blasting it with fire.
On the opposite side of the river from where the Orks were busily falling into his trap, Jaghatai Khan grinned widely. He had been wreaking havoc on the local greenskin vermin since his arrival nearly a week ago, and it was paying off. They had done more damage to themselves than he had done to them, and though their numbers were still too high to confront directly, they were on the verge of panic. They just needed one more good prod before they collapsed entirely…
Jaghatai snuck back from the trees he had been hiding in, then sprinted the ten meters to the next copse of trees. Beyond it, he could see the huge series of craters where the Warboss Hedbreakuh had made his camp, and much of it was in gratifying turmoil.

The Gargant he had damaged with his out-of-control Squiggoth was in ruins, the Warboss having blamed the Big Mek for the chaos at first. When the dust had settled, everything larger than the Squiggoth itself was wrecked, and the Orks were in a blood frenzy. Jaghatai had retreated to hunt and lay traps, and the Orks had stumbled into the traps with a regularity that was both amusing and productive.
After nearly a day of having them chase their own tails, he had snuck into the camp and butchered a Gretchin, dropping his bits into the food tanks the Orks had made. They hadn’t even noticed for several hours, but when they did, it had turned into a brawl.
More and more Orks were being drawn away from sentry duty or building things to search for him, and the smarter Gretchins were refusing to leave the camp entirely, provoking several more brawls. All the while, his actual target was sitting in the middle of the camp, awkwardly chained to a tree, its handler long since dead. Jaghatai stared at it and smirked, before redirecting his attention to the Mega Nob in the far side of the camp. It was time to sow some more anarchy…

Meanwhile, back on the Cardinal Moon of Averus Lona, a small group of Ecclesiarchs were busily whipping themselves into a frenzy. A team of white-robed servitors were clearing furniture and people from one of the meeting halls, and the sector’s Cardinal fidgeted at the front of the room. “Do you think that the God-Emperor will arrive in person, or just drop Lord Vulkan off?” he asked his aide worriedly.
“I haven’t the foggiest, your Eminence, but the Astropaths said that the message came from the Emperor Himself,” the young man replied. “We shall see…he should arrive any second now.”
“Yes…oh, goodness me, my skin is crawling. I’ve not felt this sort of nerves since I was younger than you!” the wizened old Cardinal said, rubbing his hands together. Before the subaltern could reply, a purple mist flooded into the room. The servitors shuffled the last of the other people out just before the air in the room parted with a CRACK, and the Emperor appeared. Vulkan dropped face-down on the floor. The Cardinal slowly raised his hands over his mouth, his eyes as wide as tea cups.
“FATHER, GOOD TO SEE YOU. THANKS FOR AGREEING TO TAKE MY SON IN ON SHORT NOTICE,” the Emperor nodded, hiding his distaste for all things religious behind a veneer of gratitude. The Cardinal didn’t react, he and his younger colleague both looking a bit green around the gills. A member of the Sororitas, who had fortuitously accompanied them both to the meeting, poked the Cardinal in the ribs, jolting him from his horrified stupor. He scrambled to his knees, as did his sidekick. The Sororitas reverently took a knee as well.
“Most Divine, you bless and honor us with-”
“ENOUGH,” the Emperor said with mounting irritation. “GET UP. SISTER, PLEASE SEE TO THE WELFARE OF MY SON. VULKAN HAS A VERY TRYING…MILLENNIUM OR NINE.”

“As you will, Holy One,” The Sororitas said, rising to her feet. She hurried over to the slumbering Salamander, and gingerly draped one of his arms over her shoulder. She hefted him to an upright position and effortlessly carried him to the rear entrance of the room with her power armor-enhanced muscles. She nudged the door open, and placed the comatose Primarch on a medicae cart that the Sororitas of the moon used to transport their own wounded, and started to wheel him off to the infirmary. The Emperor turned back to the two priests, who were trying very hard not to look at the bestial Emperor’s form with revulsion.
“THANKS AGAIN, SIEUR, I’LL BE BACK TO RETRIEVE HIM IN A WEEK OR SO. IF HE WANTS TO, YOU KNOW, LEAVE BEFORE THAT, JUST HAVE THE ASTROPATHICA LET ME KNOW, THEY KNOW HOW TO REACH ME,” the Emperor said casually, his demeanor all business. “I MUST ATTEND TO ANOTHER MATTER. FAREWELL.” With a CRACK of air that nearly knocked the two priests off their feet, he was gone again.
The old Cardinal turned to the subaltern, gaping. “I…oh, forgive me, Emperor, but…I hadn’t expected him to look…”
“Like something Arbitrator Foreboding would shoot?” the younger priest finished wryly. “Yes, it was quite…unnerving. Still, Lord Vulkan will be our sacred guest until he recovers…we must make a good impression.”

OK, time for the new stuff. I'll try and post every fifteen to twenty five minutes, perhaps more if I'm on a tear.

take your time chronicler of great deeds

>mfw Emperasque

The Cardinal turned to the door through which the comatose Primarch had been unceremoniously carted off, and made to follow. The younger priest held him back with a hand on his shoulder. “Your Eminence, if I may ask a question before we see to Lord Vulkan?”
“What is it, child?” the Cardinal asked, his face betraying impatience.
“Where are we even going to let him stay? If he heals quickly, he won’t want to stay in the medicae ward,” the young cleric pointed out. The Cardinal thought for a moment.
“I have many friends on Sedris’s Fortune,” he said after a moment. “I’m sure we can arrange a quiet place to rest there.”
“Surely…such a base place, though,” the priest said distastefully, walking towards the exit. The Cardinal sped up to match him, falling in at his side.
“Well, it’s the best we can do under the circumstances, until a ship can come to retrieve him, or the Emperor returns to pick him up,” he said, his tone final.

>>14962891
>Joy
I hope whatever was distracting you got worked out, SE. A man as great as you shouldn't have to deal with the inconveniences of mortal life.

>>14962945
Well, sadly, unemployment and deteriorating health don't fade that fast. I'm still broke and sick, but I'm staying at my parents' until I can get on my feet.
Thanks though.

>>14962993
How does a GOD of a man leik u have to deal with this kind of shit??!?!?! Why must all the bad things happen to good people?

depending on the awesomeness of parents. i see no issue hanging with em

>>14963026
Because good people don't always make good money.
>>14963031
My parents and I mostly get along, but I should have a job, and I don't. The edges are fraying.
Can we not talk about it? Here is a picture of Malouda kicking Ibanez in the face.

>>14963074

bumping

3-024-001-M42
For the fifth time in nine days, Castellan Creed found himself standing in front of the Emperor. This time, however, the meeting convened with the two of them standing in a Titan maintenance bay in Kasr Vortiga, the rain outside far too torrential for another outdoors meeting.
“SO, WHAT YOU’RE SAYING, CASTELLAN, IS THAT YOU HAVE NO IDEA,” the Emperor’s psychic voice said wearily. Creed nodded, a flake of tobacco drifting from his cigar.
“Correct, my Lord God,” Creed said carefully. “Fifteen of the civilians from Lord Russ’s group have died from illness or malnutrition since you brought them here, and while his Astartes are…well, they’re made of sterner stuff, and not dying, something is clearly weakening them. We have no idea what it is.”
“I CAN BLASTED WELL TELL YOU WHAT IT IS,” the Emperor snarled. “IT’S THE DAMN PLAGUE THAT MOTIVATED ME TO GET OFF OF THE THRONE AND COME HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. I THOUGHT SEPARATING ABBADON FROM HIS LIMBS WOULD FORESTALL THE PLAN. I GUESS NOT.”
Creed bowed, choosing his next words with exceptional care. “Ah…forgive me, my Lord God, but didn’t you tell the High Lords of Terra that it was some conspiracy by rogue Inquisitors and daemon-proofed psykers that motivated you? The Lord Commander Solar informed me quite privately sometime after they made their message to the Imperium.”
“YES I DID, AND YES IT DID. I COULD HAVE DEALT WITH A WARP-MADE PLAGUE FROM THE THRONE, BUT THE ILLUMINATI’S LITTLE GAMBLE WOULD HAVE MADE IT MUCH, MUCH HARDER. THEY WERE TWO HALVES OF THE DECISION. AND STOP GROVELING, LORD CREED, REALLY. IT’S EMBARRASSING.”
Creed straightened up, shifting his shoulder uncomfortably. “Yes, my Lord God.”

I don't know if my family possesses latent psyker talent or what, but they have walked into the room and picked fights with me on three of the seven nights I've decided to sit down and write, including tonight.

Normally, I would call it quits here, and rage myself to sleep.

But god FUCKING DAMMIT, I AM NOT LETTING MY SHITTY LIFE stop me from writing tonight.

My posts are going to slow a bit, but the thread is absolutely no danger of hitting the bump limit, and if people don't post *bump* posts every few minutes, it won't be for over a day.

>>14963300
I'm sorry, SE. I wish I could help.

>>14963300
Damn fine attitude OP. Wehn life gives you lemons pic related

>>14963300
It's your eagerness. They can smell it, and they despise it.

Well, I let my shitty life keep me from writing.
Sorry.
I'm back at it now.

A pair of white and red-robed Enginseers meandered into the room, arguing about something amiably. They both stopped dead upon seeing the colossal orange Emperor, and backed out of the bay, bowing and mumbling prayers. Creed let the sight distract him for a moment before returning his attention to the Emperor. “Does that mean that you will be attending to the matter personally, my Lord God?”
“I MIGHT AS WELL. EVEN I CAN’T BRING BACK THE ONES WITH THE PLAGUE, BUT I CAN STOP IT AT ITS SOURCE. THE PLACE WHERE I FOUGHT ABBADON, CAN YOU FIND ITS EXACT LOCATION ON AN ORBITAL MAP? POSITION A SHIP WITH AT LEAST GRAND CRUISER-CLASS BOMBARDMENT WEAPONS OVER IT IF SO. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK,” the Emperor roared, glancing at the open primary doors of the bay, where the torrential rain was visible.
“I certainly can, my Lord God, and Lord Admiral Clenden’s flag vessel is scheduled to pass overhead in two hours. He can divert to the battle site until needed,” Creed said.
“SWELL. I’LL FIND YOU WHEN I NEED THE BOMBARDMENT TO BEGIN.” Without another word, the huge Emperor ambled out the door, vanishing with a loud CRACK of air.

Creed spun on his heel, marching up to the Comms room. The operators stood at their station as the square-jawed Lord Castellan walked in, then sat back down as he distractedly waved.
“Get me a secure line to Lord Admiral Clenden’s flag vessel,” he said to the nearest operator. She nodded and mumbled a few lines of the Litany of Activation to her console, poking a few runes with her mechdendrite. The image of the greying Lord Admiral appeared in the middle of the room, flickering quite a bit. The techpriest grimaced and fiddled with a few more runes, and the image smoothed out.
“Creed. What can I do for you?” the Admiral asked, the confused movement behind him resolving into several ship crewers bustling around, tending to the ship’s well-being.
“Not for me, Admiral, the Emperor,” Creed said drily. Clenden cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Creed said, in no mood for games. “He has visited me personally down here, trying to get a status update on the state of readiness of the troops on the ground. I told Him about the civilians dying off, and he said he was going to deal with it. He has instructed me to tell you to position a bombardment-capable ship over the spot where He fought Abbadon.”
Clenden’s jaw dropped. “Ah…really. Well, my ship will be overhead shortly, but I can’t bombard a target with any accuracy if I don’t know the timing.”

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html
Archive's up. I'll be up a bit longer, writing some more. Not much tonight.

I wish I could write half a good as you SE.

Oh and >>14963502
I'm in space!

>>14964225
“I told Him you’d be overhead in two hours, and He said that was fine,” Creed said.
Clenden glanced at the viewscreen visible behind him, digesting its contents, then nodded and turned back. “Yes, that should work. I’ll be over the spot, weapons hot, two hours out.”
“Excellent. Thank you for your time, Admiral,” Creed said, saluting the image.
Clenden echoed the gesture. “As the Emperor wills,” he said, perhaps rather more literally then usual. He cut the transmission.
Creed slumped into a vacant chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. One of the techpriests watched him for a moment before speaking up. “Lord Castellan, may I ask a question?” she asked cautiously. Technically, she was as far outside his authority as a Sororitas or Commissar, but it never hurt to be respectful.
He glanced up, dropping his cigar butt in the trash as he did so. “Sure. What is it?”
“Well…you’ve seen the new Emperor in person, sir?” she asked. He shook his head.
“No, it’s the same Immortal God-Emperor of Mankind as He ever was, just in a new body with…new accoutrements I suppose.”

i'm sorry, after what i said before, i should keep going
but i just fucking can't
i'm demoralized and exhausted and i have another job fair tomorrow that i really should attend
keep this boat afloat until noon tomorrow and I'll write some more, but I just can't do it now

Oh hells yes

I cannot type a treble clef, Captcha. Please try again.

This thread WILL be alive tomorrow SE, dont worry about that. Also good luck at teh jawbs fair.

>>14964589
Aw, dangit. Be well, dude.

>>14964589

The sheer amount of material you've produce in the Emprahasque's name is astounding by any standards.

By all means, take a break if you need it. The archives and 1d4chan already bear witness to your tremendous contributions.

we beleive in you!

Does this have a 1d4chan page?


it needs one i think...

>>14965476
it dose, but i'm not sure if it's been updated

http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Emprahsque

araise from the grave foul beast of awesmness

i shall not let you die!

LOOK AT THIS SHIT MAN

NEVER DIE

>>14965817

It hasn't been updated, but I'm working on that right now, should be up to speed in a short while.

OK I sort of exist

The techpriest gaped. “Accoutrements? Sir, what does that even mean? The High Lords’ message said he had taken over a Greater Khornate Daemon…”
“Yeah, more or less,” Creed sighed, standing again. “He’s fifty feet tall and seventy feet long with teeth the size of cattle, but, hey…”
The techpriest looked like she was going to faint. “Omnissiah’s cogs, what…how in the world…”
“Who even knows,” the Cadian Castellan said, stretching and pulling another cigar out of his pocket. “Such matters are beyond us. Anyway, I’ll be in the command office if the Admiral replies. Let me know if anyone tries to reach me; just route it through my comm-bead.” He walked off, his head hung low.

>>14969122

The master returns!

The air parted an folded with a burst of purple haze as the Emperor appeared in the same spot he had confronted the hapless Sergeant Lustig days before. The place seemed unchanged, save for the footsteps of a Titan which had clearly walked through the place recently. The trampled rubble of Abbadon’s HQ structure was still there, with Rhino tracks leading away from it. That, however, wasn’t what the Emperor was there for.
He plodded up the hill and stared at the huge, pus-covered strip of land where the Plaguemaster Glubtil had seeded his Fetid Grounds, a seething block of rotting flowers and open sores in the ground. “WELL, THIS IS PRETTY MUCH WHAT I EXPECTED. DIDN’T THINK THAT GREASY LITTLE DAEMON WOULD ACTUALLY RELEASE THE PLAGUE, THOUGH, THAT WAS MY DAMN FAULT. I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE.”
He reared up on his pillar-like hind legs, his beady eyes shining purple light. “WELP, HERE GOES NOTHING.” He opened his cavernous maw and fired off a torrent of pure energy at the Fetid Grounds.
The brilliant purple torrent slammed into the Nurglite toxins like a brick through plate glass, shredding the rotting plants and ground, turning the soil beneath into glass and dust, which vaporized just as quickly. The Emperor dropped down onto his forelegs again and nodded his huge head, pleased at his work. “YEAH, THAT SHOULD DO THE TRICK.”

The drifting, putrid smoke cleared, and the Emperor snarled in displeasure. The virus-laden soil was gone, but the reek of Chaos-taint still lingered, the area was drenched in the Warp. “THIS IS GETTING ME NOWHERE,” the Emperor said, irritated. “WHAT THE FUCK, IS THIS GOING TO HAVE TO…OH.” He thought to himself for a moment. “YEAH, THAT’LL WORK. THIS’LL BE TOUGH AS HELL, BUT…IF IT WORKS…WELL, AT LEAST ELDRAD WILL OWE ME ANOTHER FAVOR.”
A commotion behind him alerted him to the arrival of the Plaguemaster, Glubtil. The shambling mass of sores and illness jumped from his looted Rhino, gaping at the devastation. “My garden! Doggie, why did you do that?! That was mine!”
“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING ‘DOGGIE?’” the Emperor roared, amused. “MY GOODNESS, YOU’RE A DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE THING, AREN’T YOU?”
“Disrespectful? You’re the one who just destroyed my garden!” Glubtil yelled.
“A GARDEN THAT WAS KILLING PEOPLE. IT’S LESS THAN YOU DESERVE. NOW…” the Emperor snarled, planting his clawed forelegs in the grass, “GO BACK TO NURGLE.” Without another word, he fired off the same beam of ravening energy that had destroyed the Fetid Grounds, incinerating the little daemon and his vehicle with a shriek.

now i absorb nutrients, i shall return shortly

>>14969448
GODSPEED.

Back, nearly done with the next chunk.

A smoldering line drew itself across the Cadian pine barrens, the Emperor’s power unleashed. Clouds of steam boiled out of a brook the bean crossed, obscuring the devastated forest. The Emperor didn’t spare the sight a second glance, though, turning back to the simmering, tainted ground where the viral plants had bloomed. “OKAY…NOW, LET’S GO SEE WHAT CAN BE DONE ABOUT THIS.”
The Emperor took a few plodding steps forward, looking this way and that at the huge black patch of earth. After a minute, he sighed. “YEAH, NO CHOICE. I HAVE TO CUT THIS SHIT OFF AT THE SOURCE,” he muttered. “WELL, NOTHING VENTURED, NOTHING GAINED. LET ME SEE…”
A keening whistle sounded off in the air above him. The Emperor looked up. “WHOA! FUCK!” he yelped and leaped aside, a moment before a krak shell from a Chaos Predator landed where he had been standing. The Emperor skidded to a halt ten meters away, dirt and sand pattering off his body.
“WHERE THE FUCK…?” he asked aloud, before seeing the tank parked on a distant hill, its autocannon barrel aimed high. The Emperor shook his head. “REALLY? FINE. I’LL PLAY.”
He leaped forward, his divine might lending his daemonic form speed it could never have possessed naturally. The tank depressed its barrel and opened fire again, letting off ten rounds at the loping God-Emperor.

The shells seemed to twist and pass him by, skirting past him without hitting anything. The crew opened up with their sposon-mounted lascannons, but the beams simply did not hurt him, the marks they left on his armored hide fading after a few seconds. In desperation, the tank crew fired their single Havoc missile, which froze in midair before it even reached him. The crew slammed their tank into reverse, still firing their autocannon and lascannons, but to no effect. The Emperor leapt up, landing mere centimeters from the tank, and thrust his clawed legs forward, gripping the turret, and pulling it clean off. A pair of Techmarines inside looked up and screamed, pitching themselves out of the tank, desperately scrambling to clear their sidearms. The Emperor casually slammed the turret down on one, reducing him to a greasy stain on the hillside, and batted the other one into a tree with his free claw.
After the snapping noises stopped, the huge Emperor looked back at where the shimmering warp taint was still staining the distant hill, and shook his massive head. “WHERE WAS I?” He walked back to the rift, much more sedately. He stared at it, contemplatively. “YEAH…WELL, HERE WE GO…” Without hesitation, he walked on through.

>>14970464
>>14970077

This is like combat porn to me.

Sorry it took so long, I was watching Penn and Teller.

>>14970730
No problem man, you've already contributed three times more than most people do on 4chan, and you keep on going to.

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME NURGLE

Deep in the Warp, the rotlings and Nurglites lazed. The endless Virulent Gardens stretched towards the non-existent horizons, and fetid clouds of fungal spores blanket rotting plants. Here, Nurgle’s Mansion sits, rotting away and decrepit, but still intact. At its center, Nurgle toils away at the Cauldron of Pestilence, creating the most foul diseases and poxes his twisted mind can conjure.
In a locked cage in the corner, Isha sits caged. The impossibly beautiful yet matriarchal Eldar goddess of healing, she is Nurgle’s unwilling “companion,” the test bed for Nurgle’s newest horrors. She is beyond illness, as the Eldar warp-spawned entity of healing and birth, but that delights Nurgle all the more.
“C’mon, cutie, try this one out,” he chuckled, rolling a vial of something black and bubbling through the bars of her cage. Isha sat, her back almost touching one side, her knees drawn up and her head bowed, staring pointedly away from the festering God. Nurgle sighed.
“I promise you’ll love it,” he said. Isha glared at him.
“You like it. Your tastes and others’ do not run in step, Nurgle. I’ll not drink your poison. Any more than I did the last million.”
“Aww, come on…” the rotting carcass said in vague disappointment. He scrambled around for another vial, filling it up from his cauldron. He swirled it about looking at it for any sign of dilution, then unceremoniously tossed it on the Eldar goddess.
Isha whimpered in pain, the warp-tainted illness eating at her skin like acid. The scarred Lady of Fertility wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them tight, then pressed her forehead into them, trying to blot out the pain. She dipped into her reserves of strength, healing the pox even as it ate away at her, the greenish haze that suffused the room turning red and yellow and blue through the pain.

“Nuts. I was hoping it wouldn’t do that,” Nurgle sighed in disappointment. Even as Isha cured herself of the putrid ailment, her skin knitting back together and her eyes coming back into focus, Nurgle fished the first vial back from the cage and stared at it angrily, as if it would apologize for its transgression. Who knows, sometimes they did. With a final sigh of regret, he slammed the vial like a bottle of energy drink, then tossed it over his shoulder, where it bounced into the corner. “Maybe next time,” he said, already hard at work thinking of the next disease.
Isha slowly relaxed her arms, the scarring from the corrosive skin disease fading, the more stark signs of her torture at the hands of Khaine reappearing. She slumped back against the slimy wall and wept, her tears rolling down her face and vanishing. They would become Soul Stones at least, she reflected, appearing in a basin on one of the Crone Worlds…for a Comorragh raider to consume, or a daemon to weaponize, or for Craftworlders to get killed trying to retrieve, her mind went on, the black clouds of despair swarming across her mind.

yay! more stories before i slip into a coma for the night.

“Well, here we go,” Nurgle said cheerfully, dumping a warp-drenched fistful of rotting fish into the cauldron. Isha tried not to look like she was gagging. “Doo de doo…let’s see…what do those Tau call those…green things that cause blood clots…hmm…”
“KNOCK KNOCK MOTHERFUCKER WHO ORDERED A BEATING?” a psychic voice suddenly roared, shocking Nurgle from his cooking and Isha from her ennui. A huge orange Khornate daemon slammed through one crumbling wall. Before Nurgle could react, the enormous daemon slammed his forelegs into the rotting wood right in front of the Chaos God, pitching up a cluster of termites and splinters. Nurgle raised his ladle and tried to cast a curse on the animalistic monster, but it opened its mouth and fired a blistering stream of pure energy at him.
Nurgle screamed, with a sound like a sea lion in a wheat thresher, and pitched back against the cauldron, then screeched with shock as the hot metal seared his rotting sores. The beast opened its maw wide, displaying grey fangs, and arcs of purple light streamed around its horns and eyes, before pouring into a growing ball of purple light in its mouth. Nurgle spun back around, his green chest pouring brown blood, and lurched forward.
The beast fired.

A stream of bright purple death tore loose, slamming into Nurgle’s wound. Nurgle screamed in pain and panic, and toppled backward into his own bubbling cauldron, his cry muffled by the gurgling poison. The beast turned and knelt next to Isha, who scrambled back against the bars of her cage in horror.
“HEY, GET ON, QUICK, WE NEED TO LEAVE BEFORE THAT FAT FUCK GETS OUT,” it said, its tone urgent.
“I’ll never go to Khorne, beast,” Isha gasped, dizzy with fear. The monster sighed angrily.
“DAMN IT ALL, THIS BODY’S MORE TROUBLE THAN IT’S WORTH…FINE.” The being swiped one massive claw at the top of the cage, which snapped like metal twigs. It reached in and grabbed the shrieking Eldar goddess, gingerly wrapping a hand around her as if she weighed no more than a pebble. “TRUST ME, YOU’LL BE OKAY, WE JUST NEED TO GET YOU OUT OF HERE. HANG TIGHT…” with a final blast of purple light, the creature vanished.
Mere seconds later, Nurgle rose from the bubbling cauldron, his eyes steaming black. The poison sloughed sheets of skin off his body, even as he gripped the edge and tumbled out. He lifted his ladle and spun to see Isha’s empty cage, and the daemon’s absence. He tilted his head back and roared, a call of rage that echoed throughout the Eye of Terror.
After a few seconds, he slowly slumped back down, and sullenly turned to face the cauldron. He shrugged and sullenly started stirring again. “Oh well…”

So, what do people think of the new chapters? Too dumb?

>>14971654

Hell no, I like it!

>>14971654
No, I like them. I like the Emperasque going around the galaxy, getting shit done and breaking up the stalemate using pure awesome.

MOAR

>>14971654
i like it so far and i always look forward to reading new pieces.

>>14971654
No way! You are the best around!

Isha tried to struggle, desperately, pushing against the creature’s iron grip, and to her surprise, succeeded. She slipped one arm free of the daemon’s claws, and shoved against its grasp.
“WHOA, HEY, RELAX. YOU WANT TO GET SUCKED BACK INTO THE WARP?” the thing asked. Isha spun her head around, seeing at last that they were racing through the warp, projected by some sorcerous field of energy. She instinctively slung her arm back, away from the sight, and found herself caught by the daemon’s other hand, which closed around her, blocking all movement.
“Asuryan’s memory damn you, daemon, I’ll not slake your master’s lust,” she snarled at it. The thing sighed angrily.
“CALM THE FUCK DOWN, ISHA, I’M NOT A DAEMON. JUST BORROWING ONE.” The creature’s eyes flashed an unnatural purple, the same light as before, and the spinning madness of the warp faded away. They were on a green hillside, its natural beauty defaced by two massive black streaks and a crumbling building.
The huge daemon…or whatever it was…released Isha, and she tumbled out of his hands, just barely dropping to her feet before falling. She managed to avoid it, straightening up, staring at the nearly alien sight before her.
“OKAY. I’M BACK. ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? BEYOND THE OBVIOUS, I MEAN?” the creature asked, taking a step or two back. “WARP TRAVEL’S HARD ENOUGH WITHOUT A SHIP.” If Isha could hear it, she gave no sign. She slowly sank to her knees, her legs failing her completely. “ISHA?” it asked, concerned.

MORE BUMPS FOR THE BUMP GOD!

MOARS FOR THE MOAR GOD. BUMPS FOR THE BUMP THRONE.

>>stranote victory,

Isha’s bare back shook, her ragged hair falling around her. A muffled, manic giggle erupted through clenched teeth, turning into uncontrollable peals of laughter a few seconds later. She fell back on her back, her arms wrapped around her ribs. Tears of laughter fell down her face, transforming into soul stones even as they dropped off her face. She rolled onto one side, relief eliciting hysteria, as she coughed, and slowly calmed herself down. It was all she could do not to keep laughing after being imprisoned by that fat fuck Nurgle for eleven thousand years, but she still had her unexpected rescuer to consider.
She drew herself back up to kneeling, her hands on her knees, as the sunlight – the blessed sun! How long had it been? – fell down on her back, warming her up. She traced a finger through the dirt at her feet, torn up by the creature’s claw, and smiled from ear to ear as a tiny white flower rose from the dirt at her touch.
She plucked a petal from the flower, and whispered a few words of Eldar. The skin of her finger flashed for a moment, and the petal melted and shifted into a small pool of white liquid. She dragged her hands through the rich, Cadian dirt, and sprinkled the molten petal across the resultant garden. In a few seconds, they had shifted form as well, into a simple white toga-like garment, which she struggled into – her own clothes long since destroyed by Nurgle’s acids.

Incidentally, Isha in this story is just the size of an average Eldar woman: only about 6' 3", not twelve-foot-and-on-fire, like Khaine and Vaul.

>>14972005
Kinda like what I always percieved Isha as.

>>14972005
>BEHOLD MY BURNING FRUITFULLNESS!
>REJOICE, MORTALS!
>LIFE IS MY NAME, PEACE IS MY MASTER!

I kinda see your point.

Dressed at last – she had honestly forgotten what clothes felt like – she turned back to the creature, which had been staring at the spectacle with a mixture of concern and amusement. “FEEL BETTER?” it asked, with what was presumably mild sarcasm.
“Infinitely,” Isha said dreamily. “Anything’s better than being used as a lab rat by Nurgle, or a toy by Slaanesh.”
“REALLY? BECAUSE YOU WERE PROTESTING PRETTY HARD WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WAS TAKING YOU TO KHORNE,” it said drily.
“Well, yes, that would have been bad too…” she asked, cocking her head at the creature as her voice trailed off. “I do know you…from when you battled the Metal Emptiness.”
“THE WHAT NOW?” the Emperor asked, baffled. It thought for a moment. “OH. THE VOID DRAGON. YEAH. I WHIPPED ITS ASS AND SEALED IN A PLANET,” he said, as if it were analogous to buying a bottle of water or crossing the street, disregarding the fact that it had been the third hardest fight of his life.
Isha shook her head, ignoring the Emperor’s sly comments. She slowly stood, reveling in the feeling of actual, living grass under her feet again. “So…what now? And…what do I call you?”
“OH HELL, I’VE HAD SO MANY NAMES THAT I DON’T EVEN CARE. CALL ME EMPEROR, IF YOU MUST, THAT’S WHAT MORE OR LESS EVERYONE ELSE DOES,” he roared. “AS FOR WHAT NOW, WELL…NOW, WE WATCH. LET’S SEE IF I WAS RIGHT.”

>>14972271
So now she is the Emperasque's guineapig.
At least she can do that while dressed.

>>14972366
Well, sort of...

god emprah of mankind helping xenos


oh well he is incharge...

>>14972555
Not just a xeno.
The devine mother of xenos.

Also he is Super Warhammer Bros. with the xeno-equivalent of CREEEEEEEEED.

Guess that's something like the New Way of his policies.

“Right about what?” Isha asked, nonplussed. The Emperor gestured to the patch of dirt from which the plague that had infected Russ’ refugees had spread, leaking their illness into the warp, where it had filtered back onto Cadia and probably hitched a ride on the Space Wolves.
Isha saw the spot and grimaced, her angelic features creasing. The patch of ground looked like a rash on the surface of Cadia, all the more disgusting for the damage it was inflicting to the beautiful clearing around it. The rifts seemed to be fading, though, their visible damage to the materium disappeared. “EXCELLENT,” the Emperor proclaimed, turning to face Isha with a smug look on his horrifying face. “I WAS HOPING THAT WOULD WORK. KILLING THE LOCAL PLAGUEMASTER AND WRECKING NURGLE HELPED. MY OWN POWER CAN SEAL THE RIFTS NOW.”
“So...then, why did you rescue me, if I wasn’t needed to heal the rifts?” Isha asked, bewildered.
“I NEED A REASON TO HELP SOMEONE BEING TRAPPED AND TORTURED BY THAT ROTTING CRETIN?” the Emperor asked evasively. Isha narrowed her eyes for a moment. “WELL, I SUPPOSE I WANT THE CHAOS GODS AT EACH OTHERS’ THROATS AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE BEFORE I FUCK THEM UP."

OK, a few more chapters of wrapping up loose ends and such, then we go see what that little emo Corax is up to, now that he's you know, not trapped in a living labyrinth.

>>14972723

>corax
>emo

...okay

>>14972723
Sounds cool.
Keep it coming, brother.
Damnit, I just can't think of any more praising words.

>>14972763
He's in charge of the
RAVEN
GUARD.
He's so emo he shits white leather and seashells.

>>14972852
Thank God-Emperor, at least his father likes him.
The possible amount of whining could drown entire planets in tears.

>>14971387
>KNOCK KNOCK MOTHERFUCKER WHO ORDERED A BEATING?

“Lord Castellan Creed, a message for you from Lord Admiral Clenden,” an engineer’s voice sounded in Creed’s comm bead. He tapped it reflexively.
“Copy that, Comms, patch him through to me directly,” he said. He leaned back in his chair, looking over the buzz of auspex operators and comm officers in the command room, glaring at onyone who was too obviously trying to listen in.
“Creed, this is Clenden. I will be in geostationary orbit above the spot for a four minute window, two minutes from…now,” the Admiral’s voice came through, buzzing faintly.
Creed nodded. “Good. We’ll have the confirmation from His Majesty any moment now, I expect. In fact,” he said casually, as a nearby Astropath doubled over in agony, “I bet that’s him.”
Sure enough, the Astropath straightened up, rubbing his ears. “Ah…Lord Creed, the Most Divine says…call it off.”
Creed sat bolt upright. “What? Call it off?”
“Yes, Lord,” the psyker said, wincing. “He says Clenden is…is not to fire on the spot…he fixed the problem with some groundside help.”
Creed’s square jaw worked for a moment, before brusquely cutting back into the channel. “Admiral, His Majesty has called off the strike. The situation has resolved itself.”

Hmm. I've sort of written myself into a corner. I shall return when I'm done eating. Perhaps I will be flush with ideas.

>>14973013
What, pray tell, are you eating?

>>14973163
Turkey and feta burger.
Anyway, back to writing.

“SO, NOW THAT THAT’S DONE, YOU SHOULD GET TO CRAFTWORLD ULTHWÉ,” the Emperor roared, returning to business. Isha seemed to consider the words, then shook her head, flipping her hair back behind her.
“I cannot do that,” she said resolutely. “Long ago, the Veil was raised between our world and the world of mortals. I can not interfere with the-”
“YEAH WHATEVER,” the Emperor roared dismissively. “IF KHAINE IS ALLOWED TO WALK AROUND ON THE CRAFTWORLDS, I DON’T CARE IF YOU DO TOO.” Isha flushed angrily.
“I don’t recall making it your call, Emperor, what the gods of Eldarin are allowed to do,” she said coldly. “My gratitude for rescue aside, the fact is that I can not simply go to a Craftworld, not now, when the balance between the active forces in the galaxy are so upset. I can feel it.”
“YEP,” the Emperor said, clearly ignoring her complaints. “YOU HAVE SO MANY OTHER PLACES TO GO RIGHT NOW. YOU SURE ARE LUCKY TO BE SO FLUSH WITH OPTIONS.”
Isha glared at him for a few more moments, before conceding his point with a forced shrug of her shoulders. She had to admit, privately, that the idea of actually visiting a Craftworld, about which she had heard so much, was tempting. “I suppose you are right.”
“SURE AM,” the Emperor said idly, a familiar purple mist appearing around the two of them, whisking them away.

>>14973703
He returns rejoice brothers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fairly close at hand, Taldeer was sitting beside her father’s bed, trying not to fall asleep. Eldrad had fitfully stirred in his sleep several times, jolting her out of her catnap, but each time he had just rolled back over and settled down. The Warlock had pried off his mask, and to Taldeer’s vast relief, the horrible grin on his face had faded into the slackness of sleep.
Her daughter, Lofn, stirred in her lap. “Mom, why is Grandpa Eldrad shaking?”
Taldeer glanced over at his body, and sure enough, his hand was in spasm, his fingers scrabbling against the cushion. She shook her head sadly and reached over, gripping his hand with her own. His movements stopped. Lofn watched sleepily. “He…he’s trying to rest. He’s so tired and so hurt that it’s hard.”
“It’s hard to rest because he’s tired?” Lofn asked. Taldeer hesitated. She didn’t want to scare the poor girl.
“Yeah…sweetie, he’s sick, too, and that makes it harder.” Lofn blinked acknowledgement, and settled her head back against her mother’s breast.
“Oof, you’ll be too old for this before long,” Taldeer said, forcing a small smile, shifting her near-numb leg under her daughter.
“No,” Lofn said, her voice trailing off. “Not for a while more…” Taldeer smiled again, this time quite naturally.
Livii appeared at her shoulder. “Is she asleep?” he asked, so faint even Taldeer’s Eldar ears could barely hear him.
“No, Dad,” Lofn said softly. “I’m not going to sleep yet. I want to be here when Grandpa wakes up.”
Livii looked over at the comatose Eldrad, and tried to imagine what would happen if he awoke with Slaanesh’s taint still in his mind. Taldeer glared at him behind Lofn’s head as she sensed the assassin’s thoughts.

>>14973935
look at yourself, now back to me. 40k is now a melodrama.

>>14974092
You say that like 40k isn't...uh...40k.
Besides, Lofn is made of pure :3

Livii put one hand up defensively, then crouched down beside his daughter. He squeezed one little hand gently, and she turned to face him blearily. “I guess you weren’t around when he got lost, huh?” he said faintly.
“No,” Lofn said tired. “I wasn’t born yet…” she said. Moments later, she lost the battle to stay awake, her eyes drifting shut and her head slumping back onto Taldeer. Livii waited a minute before gingerly lifting his slumbering daughter off of Taldeer’s lab, then effortlessly carried her over to the opposite wall, where Macha had thoughtfully placed a deeply padded seat for the occasion. Macha herself was seeing the other Farseers off to their own Craftworlds, but promised to come and relieve Taldeer soon enough.
Livii sat down in the chair, and lowered his daughter into his lap, then tilted the chair back a few degrees so she was leaning back on his chest. He found himself grateful he had swapped his usual outfit for a padded shirt. Taldeer stood and stretched, various popping noises emanating from her joints. She tried to stifle a tired squeak as she did so. “Mmm…love, I have to go see what’s taking Macha so long…be right back, ok?”
“Sure, take your time,” Livii said, crossing his arms over Lofn and grabbing the dataslate Taldeer had secured for him the previous time she had left Ulthwé. It was just some tabloid rag, but it was the closest he could ever get to actual Imperial news. Idly, he wondered how the Imperium was reacting to the Emperor’s new form.

>Wake up today
>Remember Emprasque thread
>"Damn I missed it"
>go on /tg/
>Emprasque thread

GODDAMN SE!
Good work man, damn good work!
Keep up the good work brother, but dont rush yourself, the elegan/tg/entlemen are a patient bunch and don't mind waiting for Emperasque action.
On that note, I have something you may want to keep in mind as this progresses... a single simple man with a simple goal

to hate and rage until there is nothing left to hate.

>>14974451
If I do include Fuklaw, I will have to plan it out VERY VERY carefully.
He's the most instantly recognizable /tg/ homebrew character save cultist-chan, so if I decide to include him like I did LCB, Blood Bjorn, and Lofn, I will have to plan it out waaay in advance. I would also have to include the Angry Marines and I'm not sure they have a place here.
Don't worry, though, I'm sure I'll think of something.

Certainly, the Eldar reaction was being overshadowed at the moment. The throngs of Guardians and dedicated Aspect Warriors guarding the Webway Assemblies had spun to face the Emperor’s massive form as it appeared before them; though he had simply warp-traveled there rather than utilizing the Webway. Their eyes, however, had immediately traveled to the woman standing beside him, clad in a simple white toga and barefoot. It had only taken a moment for the assembled Eldar to recognize the intricate eye-shaped scar on the backs of each of her hands, carved there in contempt by Khaine millennia before. Within seconds, the assembled Eldar had fallen to their knees, in total silence.
Isha slowly walked among them, kneeling alongside a few, whispering something to them. She stared up at the beautiful, crisscrossing lights of the Craftworld and let a smile cross her face. It wasn’t home – nothing would replace her home in the immaterium – but it was good to be among her children once more. The Emperor waited several minutes, tolerating the bowing and scraping for as long as his natural distaste for religious pageantry allowed, plus a bit of pity, before finally speaking directly into her head.
“ISHA, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW? RULE THE CRAFTWORLD?”
She turned to face him, smiling happily. “No. I thank you for convincing me to come here, Emperor of Man. I have missed this. The love of my children…the scars of Nurgle are fading from me.”
“YEAH, GOOD FOR YOU. LISTEN, I’LL JUST GO CHECK ON MY SON AND BE ON MY WAY, ALL RIGHT? HE SHOULD BE AMBULATORY BY NOW,” the huge Emperor said distractedly.
“Your son is here, on Ulthwé?” Isha asked in surprise, letting her eyes fall back to a Guardian who had knealt at her feet and was silently tearing up, in fear or joy. She reached down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and his silent tears broke loose. Joy, then.

“YEAH, I CALLED IN A MARKER WITH ELDRAD ULTRAN A WHILE BACK. WELL, HIS DAUGHTERS. I SAVE ELDRAD FROM SLAANESH, THEY SAVE MY SON ROUBUTE FROM STASIS.”
“Things have become interesting of late,” Isha thought to the Emperor as she traced her gaze over the prostrate Eldar. Aloud, she added “Rise, my children. Go about your days. I will have much to say when the time comes.”
Very nearly beside her, a Farseer wearing Biel-Tan colors rose, her face a mask of shock and delight. “Lady Isha…oh, never did we see this…”
“I gathered as much, Farseer Macha,” the beautiful warp goddess said wistfully, eliciting a gasp from the redheaded scryer, “I was rather surprised myself.”
“I wish now I had not seen off my colleagues,” Macha managed, “forgive me. Moments ago I was bidding farewell to Farseers, and Spiritseers, from eight other Craftworlds, after a conference. Had I foreseen your return, I would have not sent them away.”
“Nothing to forgive, my child, my return was as unexpected for me as it was for you,” Isha said, glancing at the enormous Emperor, who was staring around himself as if expecting to see someone.

>>14974485
awesome, canonically he's retired and hanging out with Commisar Raege and trying to escape his reputation/minor fame. although I'm sure you know this, we will have faith.
THE EMPERASQUE PROTECTS!

>>14974677
Yeah, that's the other thing. Colossal Faggot/Mr. Culexis/whatever he calls himself has this whole bloody continuity with Raege and Fuklaw, and I wouldn't want to get it wrong. 40canon, I'll fuck that up without giving a shit, like Draigo not being lost to the Warp, but /tg/canon is better anyway, and I wouldn't want to screw it up.

Taldeer’s gravlift pulled up short at the Gate Assembly, and she stood, turning to find her sister. Before she made it five steps, her sleep-fogged brain recognized what she was seeing: the Mother Goddess of the Eldar and the Emperor of Mankind. Her jaw dropped, and she nearly stumbled from the shock. Luckily for her, Macha spotted her before she could do anything stupid. She quietly, gestured the black-haired Taldeer to her side, an uncharacteristic look of pure glee on her face. Taldeer slipped through the gaping crowds, and reached her sister soon enough. Despite herself, she could not help but bow deep before Isha.
“Mother Isha, I am your humble servant,” she said.
“Surely, my child Taldeer, but I understand you need my service rather more,” Isha said, smiling beatifically. I understand your father is in a bad way, and desperately needs to have his mind cleansed of the taint of the Foul One, She Who Thirsts For Souls.”
“Yes, Lady,” Macha put in. “Though…” she trailed off, looking sidelong at the Emperor who was wearing a familiar smug look on his scaly face. “The Emperor of Man, here, did a fair job of cleansing Father’s soul before…well, before we got him back.”
“Then I thank you, Emperor, for your help in rescuing him,” Isha said, to the complete and total astonishment of the Eldar present. Their complete shock was compounded as Isha closed her eyes and nodded her respect to the human leader, as if they were equals!

GLEE.
Awesome awesome awesome!
Good man, SE.

And my empathy with the family problems. I've been near the same sort of boat time and time again, and it's only distance and the cost of gas that's spared my own father's life a time or two.
It'll get better, eventually.

But yay! And hit Deviant Art to find Mr. Culexus. He's probably busy as a fella gets, but would probably get a mighty LOL out of all this.
And he's pretty mellow about Kuhlteest and Dranon doin' stuff, he's mostly just honored to see them gadding about for any reason.
I also recommend Adepta Librica, Elite Pirate and Beretta249. Comments always welcome on the various works.

I don't know. Somehow I like the idea of the next issue of "Ragin' Johnny Fuklaw" depicting him riding the Emerasque into battle, swinging his chainsword at Khorne or something.

With Fuklaw having never even met the Emperor would just make that all the more pleasing.

“NO PROBLEM, THAT PRISSY SLUT SLAANESH HAD IT COMING ANYWAY,” the Emperor roared modestly. “LIKE I SAID, I NEEDED A FAVOR, AND ELDRAD OWED ME ANYWAY. SO, THAT BRINGS ME TO MY PRIOR QUESTION, WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW? YOU HEAD BACK TO THE WARP, NURGLE WILL KILL YOU. YOU FLEE TO THE WEBWAY, AND YOU’RE DEAD IF THE DARK ELDAR FIND YOU BEFORE CEGORACH DOES.”
“Yes, my darkened children have failed to learn the lesson that saw my beloved brothers and sisters slain,” Isha said, her face briefly twisting into something horrible. Macha took a full two steps back before common sense reasserted itself. Isha let her eyes drift closed, and her anger faded. “I will remain here, for a time, I think, then travel the Exodite worlds, doing what I can.”
“As you so will it, Mother Isha,” Taldeer said. “Any of the ships in the fleet of Ulthwé would ferry you to the Exodite world of your choice, I am sure.”
“As am I, Farseer Taldeer,” Isha said. “Now…where is your father?”

Lexicanum is singularly unhelpful in figuring out what the fuck the medic Craftworld Eldar unit is called, so I'm going with Warlock even if they're just an Elite choice.

Also, please do not mistake this more serious or touching turn of events in the story for a shift of tone.
Let me remind you that while all this is going on, Jaghatai is whipping the christ out of a pack of Orks by sabotaging their gargant and driving their squiggoth into a frenzy. And he is voiced by Randy Savage.

Isha stood in the room in which Eldrad slept. The attending Warlock, once she was done bowing, had allowed Isha to see the patient without a single protest, though Livii had steadfastly refused to allow himself to be ejected from the ward. The Warlock would have turned forceful, surely, had Isha, Macha, and Taldeer not all cast disgusted glares at her simultaneously. Livii sat in the same chair he had sat in before, though he had lain Lofn down on the hovering bed next to her. Isha’s hands drifted a few centimeters above Eldrad’s ragged armor, frowning at the taint she sensed the Emperor hadn’t entirely purged.
“This is…grave. If She had not kept your father intact to savor, he would be beyond my help.” She looked over at Taldeer, whose pale face turned sickly at the news. Isha smiled, and Taldeer’s complexion started to look a bit more lifelike. “Fortuitously, I am in time, and the human Emperor has started the healing already.”
As she drped her hand over Eldrad’s forehead, however, Lofn stirred. She sat up, taking in the bizarre sight with wide, sleep-clogged eyes. “Mom! What is that lady doing to Grandpa Eldrad?” she asked fearfully.
Taldeer started, her reverie broken. Before she could react, Livii was suddenly at Lofn’s side, his hand on her shoulder. “Easy, hon, it’s all right. She’s here to help.” Isha broke her trance to glance up at the girl, who was clutching Livii’s arm like a lifeline, and smiled serenely. Lofn hid her face behind her father’s arm, but didn’t make a sound. Isha cocked a blonde eyebrow at Livii, who darted his eyes from Taldeer to himself. Isha caught the meaning and allowed another half-smile, before returning her full attention to Eldrad.

Lofn slowly poked her head out from around her father’s arm, watching. Her panic faded as she watched, her own psychic abilities allowing her to see what Isha was doing. She wasn’t pure Eldar, which explained why she didn’t realize it instinctively, but now she could see it, even if she didn’t understand it.
Isha’s eyes glowed under her closed lids, the light shimmering through, red from the blood in her capillaries. For a moment, Eldrad’s lips drew back into the horrible smile he had worn when the Prince of Excess had held him at his mercy. Macha gasped inaudibly, nearly grabbing Eldrad’s hand, but reason held her back. The Lady of Fertility drew her hands back from Eldrad’s body, looking a bit tired.
“It is done,” she said. “His mind is restored.” Eldrad’s grin vanished, and he groaned softly in his sleep. Isha took a few steps back, allowing Taldeer and Macha to walk up to their father’s bedside. His eyes creaked open, at long last.
“Macha…Taldeer? What…where am I?” he croaked, his voice strained.
“Father…” Taldeer managed, the emotions she worked so hard to control in front of her colleagues and troops slipping out. She grasped his nearest hand, squeezing it tight. “I…dad…” she broke down, tears coursing down her face. For a few, terrible years, she had thought his soul consumed by Slaanesh, the worst possible fate for an Eldar, and now…here he was.

oh hai guys! Whats going on in this thread?


^jk, keep it up bro, shits legendary.

Macha managed a little more restraint, as she grabbed his shoulder and struggled to keep a grin off her face. “We thought you lost, Father…we thought you gone forever.”
“So did I,” Eldrad mumbled, bleary. He raised his head a fraction, not seeing anything beyond his daughters at first. “My…” he paused to clear his throat. “My daughters, where…is this Ulthwé? How did I get back here?”
“We had a favor given to us, Father,” Macha said, not allowing her pronounced distaste at the state of things color her voice. “The leader of the Imperium has returned, and snatched you from the jaws of She Who Thirsts.”
“Yes…I remember…oh, Lady of Mercy, I remember, the horrors…I thought my soul would feed…feed Her…” Eldrad shuddered, his hands falling limp. The memories flooded back to him, the terrible pleasures of the Pit, Slaanesh’s taunting, the poisons he had breathed, enjoying them and filled with terror at the thought…
A warmth on his other side alerted him to another person in the room. He started and looked over. A small, black-haired girl was nervously clutching his free hand. She looked odd for an Eldar, yet Eldar she was, by the feel of her in the Warp around them. He blinked at her, confusion etching itself onto his face.
“Grandpa Eldrad?” the girl asked in a small voice, hesitant. Eldrad stared at her blankly, confused. Taldeer walked around to the girl’s side of the table, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.
“Father, this is Lofn, my daughter.” Eldrad’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates at the words.
“I have a granddaughter? I have a son-in-law? What?”
“Yes, Father,” Taldeer said sheepishly. “Ah…you’ve been gone long enough for…events to occur.”

tanks a lot

WOOO!

More Emperasque!

This is the best work-just-ended period ever!

>>14975497
>Ah…you’ve been gone long enough for…events to occur
Haha! Oh, this promises to be hilarious.

>>14974889

Ride closer, Emperor! I want to hit them with my sword!

“So it would seem,” Eldrad said faintly. He reached his hand over to where the girl was, a faint smile crossing his lined features. “Hello there,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Nice to meet you, Lofn.”
“Um, nice to meet you too,” Lofn said, trying to remember which words to use. Eldrad let himself slump back into the bed, then experimentally lifted himself into a sitting position, his back to the wall. Macha hurriedly placed a pillow behind him, which he sank into gratefully. Continuing his sweep of Lofn’s side of the room, his eyes lit upon Livii, and he froze.
“What…what in the world is he doing…” he asked, aghast. Livii had to exert a great deal of self-restraint not to stare suggestively at Taldeer at that point, as he was fairly sure she would never forgive him. Taldeer hastened to explain.
“This is my partner, Father, Livii. He saved me from the Imperium, nearly getting himself killed in the process. He’s Lofn’s father.” Livii bowed respectfully, tapping his closed fist against his chest and inclining his head. Eldrad stared. He stared at one of the couple to the other, his eyes dropping occasionally to Lofn, who was still standing uncomfortably at the side of the bed.
Finally, he spoke, his voice slow and uncertain. “These are…fascinating times…it seems…”
“I quite agree,” a beautiful, melodious voice spoke from the other side of the bed. Eldrad twisted around and nearly fainted. Lady Isha, Mother of the Eldar, was standing under a meter from him, looking for all the world like she had been free of Nurgle’s captivity the last ten thousand years.
Eldrad stared at her, his jaw agape, his ten thousand years of life failing utterly to provide him with inspiration. “You get trapped in the Warp for ten short years, and the universe inverts…” he finally said.

>>14975772
OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

Several stories away from where Eldrad was having his mind blown, Rouboute Guilliman was having an equally odd day. A one hundred thirty ton daemon was sitting in the middle of a disused parking square, telling him that it was his father.
Guilliman instantly recognized his father, of course, just as he had on Macragge nine thousand years prior, but the new body had shocked him. “Father…forgive me, but I recall you telling that traitor Magnus in no uncertain terms that sorcery was expressly forbidden. Yet…here you are. A daemonhost.”
“HALF-RIGHT. THE DAEMON IS HOSTING ME,” the Emperor roared. “COME NOW, SON, YOU WERE ALWAYS THE PRAGMATIC ONE. YOU HAVE TO SEE HOW DESPERATE I WAS. NINE THOUSAND YEARS, TIED TO A CHAIR, BEING TORTURED BY A CEASELESS BOMBARDMENT OF ELDRITCH WARP ENERGIES. I COULD BARELY STAND IT AS IT WAS, AND THEN THIS SHIT WITH ABBADON AND THE ILLUMINATI HAPPENED…”
“Yeah, that’s another thing, Father,” Rouboute said, flustered. “How did you find out about that? I don’t think it was active in my time…”
“NEITHER DO I, SON, BUT I FOUND OUT ABOUT IT A FEW YEARS BACK FROM A RENEGADE INQUISITION MEMBER WHO LEARNED TOO MUCH. DRACO I THINK HIS NAME WAS. ANYWAY, WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. I’M CLEARLY STILL IN CONTROL, AFTER ALL, AND MORE POWERFUL THAN I EVER COULD HAVE BEEN OTHERWISE,” the huge Emperor said, dismissively.
“Magnus said that, right before Russ beat him half to death and Tzeentch turned him into a daemon Prince,” Rouboute said, irked. The Emperor rose to his massive feet, and the Primarch felt a drop of sweat run down his back. After a moment, the Emperor sat back down.

>>14975927

“FAIR ENOUGH, SON, BUT DO NOT MISTAKE ME FOR MAGNUS,” the Emperor said, reining in his temper. “MAGNUS SOUGHT OUT HIS POWERS THROUGH GREED AND THE TAINT OF CHAOS. I SUMMONED THE DAEMON BECAUSE HUMANITY WAS DOOMED WITHOUT IT. I WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE IT IF I HAD THE CHOICE. DO YOU RECALL HOW HARD MAGNUS CAMPAIGNED TO MAKE SORCERY LEGAL AT NICAEA?”
“Naturally, Father, and we both decided it was too risky.”
“RIGHT. IT’S LIKE I TOLD THAT MORON INQUISITOR VALENTINE. THIS IS DESPERATION, NOT DESIRE.”
Roboute stared at the Emperor, his face unreadable. After several seconds, he nodded curtly, abandoning his argument. “I understand, Father. What do we do now?”
“WELL, I NEED TO TALK TO ELDRAD AND ISHA BEFORE WE LEAVE, AND I SHOULD TALK TO THAT VINDICARE ONE MORE TIME. I THINK HE’S LYING TO ME.”
“About why he’s here, you mean, Father?” Roboute asked wryly. “Yeah. He’s obviously lying. He told me it was an ‘extended, informal loan.’”
“YEAH, HE JUST SAID IT WAS ‘PHENOMENALLY COMPLICATED’ TO ME,” the Emperor said in the same tone, presumably. “IN ALL HONESTY, I THINK HE FELL TO THE INFLUENCE OF THE XENO, TALDEER.”
“Why are we openly consorting with these Eldar, Father?” Roboute asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. “I’ve tolerated their presence and they’ve tolerated mine, but I’m clearly not welcome here.”
“BECAUSE, SON, YOUR NECK WAS BEYOND THE MEDICINES OF THE IMPERIUM,” the Emperor said. Guilliman fingered his throat, grimacing. “BESIDES, THESE ELDAR OWE ME A FEW HUGE FAVORS. I’LL CASH IN EVERY FAVOR I’M OWED WITH THEM BEFORE LONG. ALSO, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD POINT OUT, WE’RE FIGHTING BECAUSE OF FULGRIM. IS THAT A NOBLE THING TO DO?”
“Fuck that treasonous dog,” Guilliman snarled. “But is it not the way of the Imperium to never again bow to aliens? Did you yourself not cleanse Saturn and Jupiter of the taint of xenos?”

Oops. I named the commander of the Cadian fleet Clenden. His name was Quarren.
Oh well. If nobody cared enough to correct me, I don't care either.

>>14976333
GO GO GO KEEP GOING FOR THE LOVE OF THE GOD TARASPEROR GO

I'm suppose to be asleep... oh well.

“I DID, SON, BUT TIMES CHANGE. THE ELDAR ARE THE ONLY RACE LEFT IN THE GALAXY OF ANY IMPORTANCE BESIDES OURSELVES THAT WILL FIGHT CHAOS BECAUSE THEY SHOULD, NOT BECAUSE OF THEIR GENES.”
“Very well. I suppose I can put up with them if they become useful,” the Ultramarines Primarch said distastefully. “I put up with ratlings, ogryns, squats, and psykers, I can tolerate Eldar as long as they’re handy.”
“I’M A PSYKER, YOU KNOW,” the Emperor said mildly. Guilliman pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“Yes, Father. I know. I apologize.”
“FORGET IT. YOU JUST HANG OUT HERE FOR A FEW MINUTES WHILE I SQUARE THINGS WITH ISHA AND ELDRAD.”
“Very well, Father,” Roboute said. “I shall wait here for your return.”
The Emperor teleported out, appearing in the same large room in which he had deposited Eldrad before. Eldrad himself was out cold in the next room, having finally slipped back into sleep after the shock of the various changes the world had experienced in the preceding few years had faded, and Macha had treated him to an unfiltered explanation of all that had happened. Isha had stood at his side, listening in silence, as she too had been out of touch. When Macha’s story had ended, and Eldred ran out of questions (‘Where did you meet the human, Taldeer?’ chief among them), Isha had bade the others leave, so that Eldrad could rest. She had laid her hand on his shoulder, and he passed instantly into a deep sleep, while the others shuffled out, going their separate ways.
Macha returned to her own guest quarters, while Taldeer went to tuck Lofn into bed. Livii, however, had made straight for the conference room, the Emperor’s private psychic summons too strong to ignore.

He walked into the room and made the sign of the aquila, then knelt at the massive Emperor’s feet. “My Lord God.”
“SO, ASSASSIN, I THINK YOU OWE ME A STORY,” the Emperor began without preamble. Livii nodded.
“Yes…my Lord God. I was dispatched to Cronus to kill off a whole array of anti-Imperial forces, from Chaos Marines to a Necron Lord and Pariah Lieutenant to an Ork Warboss. I saw Farseer Taldeer, and helped her escape a trap. We came here, and I fathered my daughter, Lofn. That is the story, my Lord God.”
“UH HUH, SURE IT IS,” the Emperor said, his psychic voice thick with sarcasm. Livii shuddered, genuine fear bubbling up in his heart.
“My Lord God, I have found the life denied me by birth here.”
“I CARE NOT, ASSASSIN, WHAT LIFE YOU FIND. I AM ON THE VERGE OF LAUNCHING A GREAT CRUSADE THAT WILL RAZE THE STATUS QUO OF THIS GALAXY TO CINDERS, AND THE LAST THING I NEED TO WORRY ABOUT IS ONE OF MY ASSASSINS GOING ROGUE. I CAN SEE YOUR HEART, VINDICARE, AND I CAN READ YOUR VERY SOUL. YOU CAN NOT HIDE THOUGHTS FROM ME. I SEE THAT THERE IS MORE THAN PURE EMOTION BINDING YOU HERE, I SEE THE IMPRINTS THAT WITCH HAS LEFT ON YOU.”
Livii found his fists clenching, and had no idea why. “And what ‘imprint’ has my wife left on me, my Lord God? I love her. She bore me a daughter. I do not care about a crusade, my Lord God, I want nothing more than to be left to the life I chose. Did you do differently when you chose to create your own sons?”
“TOO FUCKING FAR, ASSASSIN,” the Emperor said flatly, his psychic voice draining of all emotion, and Livii felt the color drain from his face. He looked up and recoiled, his eyes widening. The Emperor was baring his fangs, the claws of his hands flexing horribly.

>>14976556
oshi- he dun goof'd

After the longest six seconds in all history, the Assassin broke the mood. “My Lord God…I beg your forgiveness,” he said, his voice reverting to the emotionless monotone that had been drilled into him from childhood, his response to fear.
“I FORGIVE YOUR CONSORTING WITH XENOS, MORTAL, ON THIS ONE CONDITION: REMEMBER THIS. THE ELDAR ARE A CRUEL AND DECEITFUL RACE, WHOSE HUBRIS, GREED, AND WANTON LUST CAUSED THE DOWNFALL OF THE GALAXY AS WE KNOW IT. THE AGE OF STRIFE, THE FORCES OF CHAOS EXPANDING BY A FULL QUARTER, COUNTLESS IMPERIAL WORLDS BUTCHERED TO SAVE A FEW ELDAR SOULS. THEY ARE USEFUL, BUT CAN NEVER BE TRUSTED.”
The Emperor straightened up, putting his teeth and claws away. Livii felt his heart resume. “IF YOU’RE SO SURE THAT TRUSTING THESE XENOS IS A GOOD MISTAKE TO MAKE, FINE. I WON’T SABOTAGE WHAT LITTLE THEY FEEL – ACCURATELY – THAT THEY OWE ME BY MAKING YOU WISH YOU’D BEEN BORN A PARIAH. BUT YOU MAY NEVER MAKE THE MISTAKE OF THINKING OF THESE XENOS AS ANYTHING BUT OPPOSED TO HUMANITY IN THE LONG TERM.”
“As anything but not people, my Lord God?” Livii supplied, his courage returning.
“ESSENTIALLY,” the Emperor’s psychic voice said, all the louder for not having made a physical sound the entire argument.
“When you have witnessed an Eldar mother shrieking in horror and regret after seeing her child fall out of a car and die without wearing a soul stone, knowing with certainty that his innocent soul is feeding Slaanesh, it becomes difficult not to see them as people, my Lord God,” Livii said flatly.
The Emperor didn’t really have anything to say to that.

>>14976556
Things are heating up.

Emprahsque should have an argument with Omegon over what is best for the Imperium. And also meet up with Cegorach (From what I know he is currently possessing this Dark Eldar chick or something).

>>14976602
I have checked, and I do not have a face for this.

We going to factor in Rohnan and Taldeer's death in DoW II at all? Wouldn't be too hard to toss the soulstone to a harlequin, pop over to Commorragh and have her thrown into a body. Would take a bit of revamping dark eldar as NOT a combination of Gargamel, Cocaine, and Cobra Commander though.

A few more words of discouragement later, the Emperor dismissed Livii and – far more politely – summoned Isha to the room. Though her face betrayed her raw displeasure at being called like a common servant, she allowed him some leeway in regards to the fact that he was too big to fit into a different room.
“Well, I suppose that we must part now, Emperor of Humans,” Isha said. “I thank you once more for returning me to my children, but I must know: what role do the Eldar play in your scheme?”
“SCHEME?” the Emperor said. “NO SCHEME. I AM GOING TO RETURN HUMANITY TO ITS RIGHTFUL PLACE IN THE GALAXY. WHETHER OR NOT THE ELDAR HAVE A ROLE IN THAT FUTURE IS UP TO THEM.”
“I am not so naive as to think that your vision of humanity’s ‘role’ in your plots involves anything but dominance, Emperor,” Isha said cooly. “The Harlequins still spin tales of what happens to those who presume dominance over others.”
“YES, THEY DO, ISHA,” the Emperor said, “BUT THE TALE OF THE ELDAR IS ONE OF UNCHECKED ARROGANCE AND HUBRIS, ONE OF PRIDE BEYOND BELIEF. I HAVE COUNSELED MY FELLOW MAN ON THE TOPIC OF UNCHECKED DOGMA IN THE PAST.”
“And such good it’s done you,” Isha said, scorn coloring her features for a moment. “Within eight hundred years of your climbing your shiny chair, a book you specifically ordered banned for all time becomes the state religion. Your children are no better at avoiding their darker impulses now than my children were ten thousand years ago.”
“MILLENNIA AGO I WOULD HAVE DISMISSED THAT CLAIM, ISHA,” the Emperor said. “BUT TEN THOUSAND YEARS TRAPPED IN A GOLDEN HELL OF MY OWN CREATION THANKS TO A BETRAYAL I THRICE FAILED TO PREVENT HAVE TAUGHT ME WELL.”

>>14976700
Wow. SE, you're really good at writing arguments.

Sounds weird, but especially that last line... it just gave me the weirdest boner, you know?

>>14976694
no.

>>14976715
Alright, just checking. Hoping for more Salamander fun just the same more than messy plothole stitching anyway.

>>14976738
>more than messy plothole stitching
What? which plot holes? Mine or DoW's?

>>14976766
DoW's, always DoW's.

“Then hear me,” Isha said, her demeanor returning to normal. “The Eldar can not defeat the Necrons, Chaos, and the Tyranids alone. Neither can the Imperium. And even if we were to join our forces, we couldn’t fight off all three of those threats, AND throw back the Glasians, AND hold the Orks in check, AND prevent the return of the Harrowing, AND keep my Dark Children in Commorragh at bay. Even disregarding the Hrud and the Tau.”
“I AM BECOMING AWARE OF THAT, ISHA, THANKS,” the Emperor said, his own patience straining. “DO YOU THINK I TOOK THE MONUMENTAL RISKS OF CONFRONTING SLAANESH AND NURGLE IN THEIR OWN LAIRS, DEVOURING AND BEING DEVOURED BY A KHORNATE DAEMON, AND RESCUING MY SONS FROM THEIR PRISONS BECAUSE I THOUGHT MY IMPERIUM CAPABLE OF OVERCOMING ALL ODDS ALONE? THEY NEED ME. AND WHILE I FREED YOU FROM NURGLE BECAUSE I NEEDED YOU TO STOP THE PLAGUE THAT WAS LITERALLY DAYS FROM RAVAGING CADIA, YOUR ‘CHILDREN’ NEED YOU TOO.”
The Emperor pointed one huge claw at the floor, on the other side of which Roboute Guilliman was preparing himself for travel. “I SAVED ELDRAD TWICE FROM SLAANESH, AND HE KNOWS IT. I SAVED HIM AGAIN A FEW DAYS BACK, THEN I SAVED YOU. YOU SAVED MY SON ROBOUTE, AND RELAYED A SENSITIVE MESSAGE TO THE SALAMANDERS. YOU OWE ME TWICE OVER. I WILL CALL YOU UP ON IT. UNTIL THEN, ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM IMPERIAL WORLDS. IF I HAVE TO CLEAN UP TEN THOUSAND YEARS OF BAD LUCK AND BAD DECISIONS FROM MY OWN GOVERNMENT, THE LAST THING I NEED IS THE ELDAR BECOMING INTRUSIVE.”
“Intrusive?” Isha asked archly. “Intrusive? Really?”
“ASK ELDRAD WHAT ROLE HE PLAYED IN THE SECOND AND THIRD WARS OF ARMAGEDDON, I’M SURE IT WILL BE ILLUMINATING,” the Emperor said. Without another word between them, the air parted, a purple mist rushed into the world, and the Emperor – and Guilliman – were gone.

Several dozen buildings away, Taldeer sat next to her daughter’s bedside. Lofn was abuzz with questions. “Was that really Lady Isha?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes, hon, it was,” Taldeer said, smiling. “The mother of all Eldar. She came back from the Warp to save Grandpa Eldrad.”
“I liked her,” Lofn said decisively, apparently after a moment of intense consideration. Taldeer grinned.
“Did you?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lofn replied, sounding like there needn’t have been any further discussion on the subject. “She looked friendly inside.” Taldeer looked blank for a moment before realizing what she meant.
“Her soul? She had a kind soul?”
“Yes, it was all white, but she was sad too, red and blue in it,” Lofn said quietly. “She looked like she cried a lot.”
“I think she did too,” Taldeer said softly, trying not to let the surprisingly bright girl see too far into her own thoughts. It apparently didn’t work completely, because her daughter looked up at her with that expression that meant she was about to ask a question Taldeer wouldn’t like.
“Why did the spiky one help her? The big orange guy Daddy’s afraid of?” she asked, searching her mother’s face. Taldeer hesitated.
“I…I’m honestly not sure, Lofn. He’s a very strict man, and he doesn’t like trusting people. I guess he wants Lady Isha to owe him a favor.”
“What will he ask for?” Lofn asked reasonably. Taldeer shook her head.
“I don’t know, hon. He could ask for a lot. Lady Isha is the most important person left in the galaxy to the Eldar. And…well, we sort of owed him before, too. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure he’ll…be fair.”

Lofn kept staring at her mother for a few more seconds before apparently deciding to believe her. “Okay…will I get to see Lady Isha again?”
“Surely, you will,” Taldeer said, trying desperately to return to safer ground. “I’m sure she’ll want to stay until Grandpa Eldrad feels better.”
“All right,” Lofn said, her eyelids getting heavy again. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Dad I love him when he gets home, okay?”
Taldeer smiled. “You bet. Sleep tight.” Lofn was asleep by the time Taldeer had hit the lights.
Outside in the sitting room, Livii was sitting in a chair in the corner, cradling his head in his hands. Taldeer walked straight up to him, sliding into the chair beside him. “Your daughter says she loves you, and wants to know if she’s going to get to see Lady Isha again,” Taldeer said, kissing Livii on the cheek. He didn’t reply for a few seconds.
Finally, he turned to her with a haunted look on his face. “He was going to soul-strip me. Emperor for…I mean, I really think he was going to soul-strip me. I managed to convince him that that would poison negotiations with the Eldar in the future, but…oh FUCK…” he doubled over, holding his stomach. Taldeer wrapped an arm around his shoulders until he straightened up.
“Fuck…Taldeer, I’ve been a hairsbreadth from being eaten alive by a daemonette and I have never been more afraid.”
“I was watching,” Taldeer said drily. “I thought she was going to eat you too. Isn’t it funny how those look like good times now?”
Livii managed a curl of the lips, a sign of how far gone his humor was. “I honestly want the Imperium to return to its rightful glory,” Livii said, the smile vanishing again. “But…Taldeer…the Emperor is a daemon. How can this possibly end well?”

Taldeer was silent for a long moment. “I think if we’re very careful about how this gets played out, we can keep Ulthwé safe. But…the galaxy has gone utterly mad. I don’t see how the two of us can change that.”
“We can’t,” Livii said, standing and walking towards their bedroom, shucking his shirt and belt. “If I can keep one pocket of this psycho galaxy stable enough to have what I want, that’s enough.”
Taldeer followed, shedding her own clothes as Livii dropped face-first into the bed, then rolled over. She lay down beside him, letting him wrap his arm across her stomach, his hand instinctively covering the scar where a very lucky Ork had nearly broken her in half. She placed her hand over his, and for a moment the two simply lay there, as she reached out with her own mind to brush against his, seeking the comfort his infinite stability lent her. His lingering fear from his brush with the Emperor faded as her vast, alien mind wrapped around his own, and they found the love they shared.
“If we can keep a place safe, that will have to be enough,” she whispered. He nodded and favored her with the faint smile he saved for her.
“It always has been.”

>>14977140
Twas awesome, as usual. I look forward to the next installment.

>>14977140
sleep well beautiful soul. i am anticipating more of the manifest glory that is this story.

you dun good kid, real good.

awesomejawsome

The second morningof this thread is dawning.
My happinesss knows no boundaries.

Happy Happy
Joy Joy
Happy Happy
Joy-Joy-Joy

>>“Fuck that treasonous dog,” Guilliman snarled.
Hell. Yes.

>>14976714
I heartily concur! One of the best things about 40K is that, specific faction bias and propaganda aside, few things are truly simple.
What the Eldar created in Slaanesh Humanity equals in the constant empowering of Khorne -assuming his creation isn't Man's fault as well.
Agents and actors will certainly take sides, but it's good to see them able comparing notes a little.

Excellent LCB d'awww as well.
Plays at this blackhearted bastards withered heartstrings, it does.

you know what would be funny, if when the emprasque goes to wrek tzeench's shit, tzeench has the emperors old body there. possesed by a khornate daemon and chained to a post like a dogie.

Wow. Fucking wow.
This story went from Emperasque - Fuck Yeah! to Romeo and Juliet gone with the Emperasque.
I love it.

god tier levels of awesome

Is it ok if I imagine Roboute as sounding like Colonel Quaritch? Because I'm already kind of doing that.

>>14979585
You can imagine him talking like John Cleese for all I care.

His voice was never specified anywhere and he had his throat severely messed with.
Also it is your fucking imagination! Everything is fine.
So yes, Girlyman talking like Quadrich is a-okay.

back kind of
let's go see what Corax is doing
Fuck me, do you know how hard it is to write Corax? There's NO literature about him.
I'm just making shit up at this point.
...
In stark contrast to what I've been doing so far...

Wow. Just found this today... now my life is complete. When will Tzeentch come in? Has he already been featured? Oh, and where are all the archives?

>>14979760

There's a bit in Raven's Flight, and the First Heretic. It's not very revealing, though. He's pretty much pissed off at Lorgar.

>>14979093
What would make it even funnier is if the Tarrasque actually wasn't a Khornate daemon at all, it's just what everybody assumes it was (for logical reasons).

It's actually, well, a Tarrasque. That got Wished out of existence in somebody's D&D campaign, said Wish being fulfilled by dumping it on Holy Terra.

Tzeentch is having a grand old time investigating the first thing he can honestly say he never expected coming. The fact that it's in the Emprah's old body is just the icing on the cake.

>>14979841
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14745454/ thread one
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14758537/ thread two
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14800794/ thread three
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/14859523/ thread four

Wheeeeeeeeeeee-

CLEAR!

KHUNK-KUNK.

There, he's back. He won't 404 on us.

Bamp for great Emperasque.

Sorry, got distracted. I'm back at it.

You know I've written 42,425 words, on 97 pages?

>>14980531
That's almost a nanowrimo. This is all up on 1d4chan right?

>>14980643
Well, yeah, it is.
Search for Emperasque.

5-027-001-M42
On the Ravenspire, the diminished Raven Guard awaited their lord anxiously. He had been sealed in the Apothecary’s wing, after the Emperor had unceremoniously dumped him there. The Master of Apothecaries himself had fussed over the comatose Primarch as best he could, but only time could have told whether or not he had lost his mind in Fulgrim’s trap.
Now, however, the Master of Apothecaries had come forth, and announced that Corax had awakened. Several squads of the First and Eighth companies – the only ones present at the time – gathered, awaiting the verdict. Several of the vehicle crews of the Techmarines also lingered nearby. Finally, supported on one arm by the Chapter Master, Poedra, the Raven himself emerged.
“Brothers,” he said weakly, “I live again.”
As one, the assembled marines snapped to parade ground attention. The Chapter Master and Master of Apothecaries guided the Primarch to a chair, into which he dropped, grateful. He was unconscious of the eerie parallel that could have been drawn between his own return and that of his brother, Lion, whose demeanor and behavior could have mirrored his.
“Lord Corax, I was overjoyed to hear of your survival,” Captain Revus of the Eighth Company said, looking for all the world like it was the first pleasant emotion he had ever felt. “Please, tell us, how did you survive in the Eye?”
“I didn’t,” Corax said, his voice returning. “I lost my way in there, and I went completely insane.”
Revus and Poedra glanced at each other beneath their intricate helmets, wary. “Yet…” Poedra said carefully.
“Yet I am sane now? I sure hope so,” Corax said, with absolutely no trace of humor. “The Emperor saved me from the endless monotony of the Living Labyrinth, but I have no idea what it did to me.”
“Lord Corax, I can not know what you have been through, but surely you will return to lead us now?” Poedra asked.

>>14980702
>“Lord Corax, I can not know what you have been through, but surely you will return to lead us now?” Poedra asked.
Spoke the Primarch: "NEVERMORE!"

Hey, how do you pronounce Emperasque?

>>14980838
ehm-Per-Asskh

>>14980838
I've thought of a few ways.

Emper-ask
Emper-as-k-you
Emper-ask-we

I prefer the first.

I really like how you write Isha. She's got this exhausted working mom feel that is really approprate, I feel; I like that she and the Emperor talk to each other like peers, too.

Maybe I'm projecting, but this has a very "The return of the not batshit insane Warhammer pantheon" feel to it. I hope we see Isha again after she catches up with the Eldar.

>>14980970
Honestly, I don't know. I've spent a disproportionate amount of time with the Eldar.

After we're done with Corax, we're going to go check back in on Russ and Lion, who have a score to settle.

>>14980970
I'm looking forward to her reactionface when she finds out the shit her people have done.

I imagine it'll be something like this.

>>14980970
It's not like would recognize you as a fellow god or anything, Mon-keigh.

Corax shook his head, his ragged black hair flying around him. “No, brother, now I rest. Honestly, I could stand for a few years vacation, as unlikely as I am to receive it. Somewhere very, very sunny.”
A few of the younger Eighth Company members smiled hesitantly, unsure if he was joking. Poedra tried to suppress a grimace, then remembered he was wearing a helmet. “My Lord, I’m sure that under the circumstances, a recuperative period would not go awry. The High Lords sent us a command to dispatch fifty Marines to Centrion, and their order stands with the return of the God-Emperor. The transit will take over two months. Will that be enough, my Lord?”
“I imagine it would be, but the Emperor has other ideas, I imagine,” Corax said wearily. “He risked a great deal to get me out. Fulgrim will not let this go uncontested. I have no doubt that the legions of Slaanesh are heading here, as we speak.”
The assembled Raven Guard were too disciplined to do anything as maudlin as gasp in unison, which is the only reason they didn’t. Poedra took an authoritative step forward, facing the First Company Veterans as he did so. “Then we will meet them, Lord Corax, as we must. We will stand by you in battle!”
“I’m sure you will, brother, but if Fulgrim attacks soon, I’ll be in no shape to do much of anything,” Corax said tiredly. “If he gives me the time I need to heal up, I will lead you once more. Until then…I can but wait.”

more

Bump for the Bump God!

Sorry, life keeps happening.
I'm working on it.

>>14982177
The Emperasque giveth and he taketh away. Fret not, faithful one, we shall be faithful still.

3-027-001-M42
Leman Russ was never a light sleeper, and something about being trapped in a two-weeklong artillery bombardment can take it out of a man. After sleeping, dead to the world, for nearly two full days, he found himself restless, however, and went to find Grimnir.
On the way, he found himself rapidly losing his patience with the bowing, obsequious Imperial citizens and soldiers. He had always had more tolerance for ceremony and faith than most of his brothers, child of Fenris that he was, but the pomp and pageantry was beginning to fray his temper.
Grimnir and Russ had taken to conversing in the Titan Bay of Kasr Vortiga, as it was large enough to always be full of people who were always busy enough not to listen in. Grimnir was trying to explain the Imperial Cult phenomenon to Russ, with little success. “Lord Russ, I don’t want you to come away from this with the impression that the Ecclesiarchy is faultless. We, the Space Wolves, have come into open conflict with them in the past, and never of our own provocation. That doesn’t mean it’s unnecessary.”
“No, you’re right,” Russ said angrily. “What it does mean is that it’s too powerful. No Church should be able to start wars against its own adherents, regardless of cause.
“More to the point,” Russ added, gesturing angrily at the collection of Omnissiah portraits, cogwheels, and devotional necklaces the various techpriests and enginseers were wearing, “the Cult wasn’t supposed to even exist in the first place, Sir Logan. I’ve read the book of Lorgar, and I’ve heard more than enough prayers and such drivel being thrown at me and others since I returned. They sound far too similar.”
“I have no knowledge of the book of Lorgar, Lord Russ,” Grimnir said truthfully. “But it must not have been very damaging if it is the basis of the Ecclesiarchy.”
“It was writing that book that drove Lorgar to Chaos, Grimnir,” Russ snarled.

>>14982470
And now we reach the messiest bit of the past 10k years

Grimnir struggled to find words. “Lord Russ…sire, the Imperium was lost and adrift when the Emperor ascended the Throne. You, Lord Khan, Lord Corax, Lord Dorn, Lord Manus, Lord Sanguinius, Lord Vulkan…in fact, all the Primarchs except Lord Guilliman were dead, missing, or traitors, within two centuries of the Betrayal. The people were terrified. People kept deifying the Emperor, as a true, immortal God, and finally the aristocracy realized that the best way to keep the peons in line would be to give in and let them believe in something. Ten thousand years later, here we are.”
Russ glared at Grimnir, before speaking low and angry. “I. Do. Not. Care. The Emperor told us from day one that we were the products of his genes and the force of Chaos to which we were exposed when we were stolen from him. Two of our brothers were sucked into the raw stuff of the warp, and became little more than monsters. They were put down, their Legions dissolved into the Ultramarines, and their very names erased from history. If the Emperor were an omniscient God, how could that have been allowed to happen?”
Grimnir was looking VERY uncomfortable now. Russ had just flat-out told him what no other person in the Imperium was even willing to admit was possible: that two Primarchs had turned into daemons even BEFORE the Horus Heresy. “Lord Russ, why are you telling me this? I am a very rational man, sire, and feel no need to perpetuate a lie. You and the Emperor himself both say that he is a man, and I will accept it.”
Russ’s grimace faded. “That, brother, is the wisest thing you could have possibly said.”

Grimnir rolled his shoulders, cricking his neck. “Lord Russ…I want you to know that for all the things I have seen in the campaigns against the Emperor’s foes, it is the acts of the heretic that unnerve me the most. I am a Space Marine, and I know no fear. I do, howe-”
“Bah!” Russ interrupted disdainfully. “That sounds like something that asshole Roboute would say. He was always keen to force his own ideals onto other people.”
“Yes, Lord Russ, it’s from the Codex Astartes,” Grimnir said awkwardly. “Lord Russ…you have read it, right, you were its most strident opponent, if I recall correctly.”
“I read enough to know that he wanted to divide our numbers into nice, easy-to count increments of five and ten, presumably so the bean-counters wouldn’t strain their abacuses,” Russ said in pronounced irritation. “Ten squads of ten men, in ten companies, from our ten thousand man Legions, counting five-man Terminator squads. Foolishness. And even the Army, which we had no business structuring: A thousand men in five companies, with five platoons to each, with fifty men a piece, with ten men in each of five squads, which divide into five-man fireteams. The book was a living stereotype,” Russ said, his irritation in full swing now. He caught sight of Grimnir’s pronounced discomfort, and pulled himself back to topic. “But what were you saying about heretics?”
“That they are harder to fight than even daemons, and the foulest xenos, Lord Russ. They fight with ideas, not with weapons, half the time. All their leaders need to do is promise them higher standards of living, vengeance against some wrong, perceived or valid, and that’s it. An army that fears failure more than death. And yet, heretics usually turn to Chaos or xenos-sympathy not because they are insane, but because they are spiteful, outcast, or degraded.”

“And how does the Imperial Cult avoid that?” Russ said, trying not to roll his eyes.
“It doesn’t, Lord Russ, but it does have a positive effect on morale of those opposing heretics. Guardsmen fight harder, longer, thinking that the Emperor is taking a personal interest in their protection. ‘The Emperor Protects’ is something we’re expected to sat to those under our command, regardless of who they are.”
Before Russ could reply, the air around him started to shimmer with a familiar purple light. Russ turned and backed a few steps up, to avoid being stepped on by the huge Emperor, as he teleported into the room. “RUSS. GOOD TO FIND YOU SO FAST,” he said, as soon as his beady eyes found the red-dreadlocked Primarch.
“Father. Good to see you as well,” Russ said, inclining his head respectfully and trying very hard not to let his discomforture at the appearance of his father show.
“Hello, Leman,” a familiar voice said. Russ’s eyes tracked down the source, and his jaw dropped. Roboute Guilliman himself was standing beside the Emperor, looking a bit windswept, but alive and well.
“Roboute? Is that you?” Russ asked, shocked beyond eloquence.
Guilliman smiled. “It is. It is good to see you unharmed after all this time.”
“You as well, brother,” Russ said, clasping Guilliman’s proffered hand, neatly ignoring his own ‘asshole’ comment a moment before.

>>14983039

Now this is a good example of brothers.

Even if you hate the others guts, you will always be relieved that the other is OK.

“I WONDER IF EITHER OF YOU EVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN,” the Emperor said, a note of wry humor slipping into his psychic voice. Unseen behind them, the huge ceramite gates of the titan bay slowly swung open, and a Warhound and five Chimeras in Mechanicum colors rolled in, one leaking smoke.
“Not in all honesty, Father,” Guilliman said ruefully. He turned to Logan Grimnir, smiling lopsidedly. “And you must be Chapter Master Grimnir.”
“I am, Lord Guilliman,” Grimnir said. He inclined his head, then snapped back up to a salute. “You honor me.”
“As I understand it, you’ve been rather busy of late, defending Armageddon and Cadia alike from daemonic incursion,” Guilliman said, demonstrating the same attention to detail that had catapulted him to third-in-command of Man.
“I was, Lord Guilliman, though recent events have been a stark change of pace,” Grimnir said politely. The behavior of the Ultramarines in both campaigns had been a point of considerable contention between his chapter and Calgar’s. While the Ultramarines hadn’t refused his instructions, in either the demand to blow up the Ork power supplies in the Armageddon campaign, or destroy the relatively few Chaos Dreadnoughts in Abbadon’s army in the Cadian campaign; their apparently complete willingness to subject themselves (and whatever troops had accompanied them) to mindwipes upon seeing Grey Knights in battle had rankled a bit.

>>14983039
>Russ & Guilliman's faces when

A few red-armored Blood Ravens unfolded from the comparatively cramped troop compartments of the Chimeras, joking amongst themselves that the Rhinos would have been more comfortable. Angelos was leading them, and he froze solid at the sight of the Emperor, speaking to the two Primarchs and the Space Wolves Chapter Master. “Uh…”
The Librarian with him followed his gaze and started. “Oh, my…is that the Emperor himself, Master Angelos?”
“It is, brother,” Angelos said, trying to keep his demeanor placid. After all, it wasn’t like they hadn’t met before. A dreadnought rumbled through the bay door behind the Chimeras, spinning its optics to face the Ravens.
“What’s the hold-up…oh fuck,” Bjorn rumbled, quickly reversing his steps, trying to quietly back out of the bay. No such luck held, though, Leman Russ spotted him out of the corner of his eye. He looked to be concentrating for a moment, then grinned as recognition hit him.
“Bjorn the Fell-handed! Old friend. Come over here, brother!” he said, waving joyously.
“Damn it,” Bjorn muttered. Angelos winced in sympathy. The Ancient Venerable Tactical Dreadnought wearily plodded over to where his former Chapter Master and Primarch waited, while his new Chapter Master walked behind, carefully avoiding Russ’s gaze.
“Bjorn, my oldest friend, I never thought I’d see you again!” Russ said, spreading his hands wide. “It does my heart good to witness you here, still leading our brothers into battle…why are you painted red?”
“Ah…change of plans, Lord Russ,” Bjorn said, awkwardly waving his lightning claw in vague circles.
“Plans? What plans?” Russ asked, still smiling. Grimnir was busy shifting his rapidly growing grin between Angelos and the Emperor, who were both trying not to notice.

>>14983554

Ooooooh crap. This is going to be good.

“Well…ah…I got…well, I got tired of endlessly retelling the same stories over and over again, once every five hundred to a thousand years, you know, to the Wolf Brothers on Fenris…and I kind of wanted to get back into action. So, when the Blood Ravens came knocking, preparing to assault a force of Black Legionnaires here on Cadia, I hefted the old bolter and tagged along,” Bjorn improvised. Guilliman was watching the scene with a bewildered look on his lined face.
“Oh, I understand,” Russ said. “But…why are you in their livery?”
“Well, my joining their battleforce was not initially…ah…voluntary?” Bjorn’s voice trailed off. Russ shook his head, uncomprehending.
“What, the other Space Wolves sent you to the Ravens’ ship while you were still in cryo-sleep?” he asked, trying to make sense of the situation. Grimnir had a cruel smirk on his face now, staring at the squirming Angelos vindictively.
“…No…” Bjorn said, as evasive as a Harlequin. Russ stared at the awkwardly shifting Dreadnought, the Emperor, who was seemingly very absorbed in the minute movements of the Warhound as its moderati powered it down, and Angelos, who was flushing red as a tomato at this point, before turning his gaze to Grimnir.
Finally, he turned back to the entombed Bjorn, who would have been fidgeting too if he still had hands. “Are you saying…I can’t even believe I’m asking this, but are you saying they STOLE you?” he asked incredulously. Grimnir crossed his arms and bared his fangs in a feral grin, looking very satisfied. Guilliman’s face was a mask of professional horror.

>>14983667

iwishetherewasanimagemacrotodisplaymyfeelings.jpg

>>14983667

thereisnomacroforwhatifeel.jpg

>>14983667

Why do I get the feeling Russ is about to explain the REAL meaning of the name "Fell Handed", i.e. it's a title for the best thief on Fenris; and Russ is going to piss himself laughing that Bjorn himself got stolen?

>>14983667
If the freakin' Blood Ravens could steal him, the Space Wolves didn't deserve to have him in the first place.

>>14983759
The Blood Ravens steal everything. Everything. If there was a Chaos God of looting, they would be his Avatars.

>>14983759

The chapter that has sto.. recieved gifts from pretty much every chapter in existance as well as the inquisition? They deserve a bit more credit than that.

>>14983772

Fuck ravens.

Blood Magpies, more like.

“…Maybe,” Bjorn said, his optics finally meeting Ross’s astounded glare. Russ turned to face Angelos, who was fidgeting with the collar of the helmet in his hands like a penitent schoolboy.
“Master Angelos? Is this true?” Russ asked, too dumbfounded to be angry.
“Well, sort of,” Angelos said. He hastened to explain, before Grimnir could say something petty. “We were passing the world of Fenris in our ship, the Litany of Fury, and our artificers wanted to show our respect to the chapter. So, they created a magnificent, and very expensive, power axe, for Lord Ragnar. When we presented it to him, though, he laughed at us and told us to, and I quote, ‘keep your pathetic trinkets.’ Well, we were quite understandably insulted, so we decided-”
“To commit larceny and abduction?” Guilliman broke in, his professional horror turning to rage. “Is that conduct for an Astartes to perform? What in the name of all that is untainted compelled you to do that?”
“You can’t kidnap the willing, Lord Guilliman,” Bjorn said, surprising the two Primarchs and Grimnir. “I was sick of the Space Wolves. I was happy to leave once I realized what was going on.”
“WHAT?!” Russ roared, while Grimnir looked like he had been hit by an airbus. The Emperor’s head pivoted back and forth between the two as if watching a tennis match. “You…you wanted to leave the Legion…Chapter you once lead?! WHY?!”
“Well, not forever!” Bjorn said defensively. “I just got sick of it. The brothers used me like a soundboard. All they ever did was wake me up, have them tell them the same damn stories over and over again, then put me back to sleep. For over EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS!” he exclaimed, his voice rising, surprising even himself. Angleos looked like he was trying to hide behind his own armor.

>>14983787

This is getting better by the minute..

>>14983787

I fukken LOLed!

>>14983787

I really need to go to bed, damn you.

>>14983787
>I came.

>>14983876
This.

“I mean, FUCK!” Bjorn said, waving his lightning claw angrily. “I walked under blood-drenched skies with the Emperor at my side!”
“DON’T DRAG ME INTO THIS PISSING MATCH, BJORN,” the Emperor put in, taking a step back, shaking the floor.
“No, no, I mean I have been a part of the Space Wolves since…well, boss, I seem to recall being one of the ORIGINAL volunteers from Terra that was used to test the geneseed project when you were creating the Legions, before the Great Crusade began. I was born on Terra when it was still called Earth! Being used as a living alarm clock to announce the passing of millennia by the Wolf Brothers was nothing more or less than an insult! I wanted to FIGHT! They wanted me to lead their little campfire songs!”
Russ’s voice dropped several octaves, and a few decibels. He leaned forward, his eyes ablaze. Grimnir’s smile vanished. “The history of the Space Wolves…as entrusted to the one man who was there for the whole thing…is not a camp…fire…song,” he said, his voice shaking with rage.
“Then clearly you haven’t asked Grimnir how much our traditions have changed for the worse lately,” Bjorn said, though he clearly didn’t want to provoke the Primarch further.
Russ snarled. “What the hell do you mean?”

>>14983787


i love this story.

>>14983929
This, if not a thumbnail, would express my feelings perfectly.

>>14983921

yes... Yes... YES!

>>14983929
>>14983956

reactionmind

“I mean we used to use wolves as mounts maybe, symbols,” Bjorn started, uncomfortably aware of the same conversation he had had with the Emperor, who was starting to look a bit guilty himself. “We were literal wolves when overcome by the rage, and so on. But…lately, it’s gotten to be so bad that it’s actually a little embarrassing. The tales they have me tell are exactly two in number: the one where I fought alongside you, and the one about how Granad Wolfblood threw Doombreed off a cliff. That’s boring enough as it is, when I fucking lead the chapter for centuries, and I’d rather talk about that. But every time they wake me up now, I see more and more wolf.
“I mean, our ranking system is bad enough as it is, with three out of four ranks having the word wolf in the title,” he said, his anger fading, replaced by resentment. “Then, a few millennia back, they change the ritual for waking me up to replace every instance of the words Astartes and warrior with the word wolf. And then, more recently, every time I go out into the Great Hall to retell the same damn stories over and over again, I see some of the brothers actually wearing wolf pelts…not as ornamentation, but as actual articles of clothing. I mean, what the fuck? And THEN,” he said, overriding Grimnir’s angry objection, “last time, I see people RIDING wolves. Not as pets, or as part of the ceremony. No, I mean, they’re fucking riding Fenrisian wolves around like it’s a means of getting around! Like as transportation! What the FUCK? I had to get out of there.”

“Can you even START to imagine what it was like, knowing for a fact that for the rest of TIME, I was going to be subjected to greater and greater desecrations of the Chapter, turning more and more into the furries the whole rest of the Adeptus Astartes have been calling us from the beginning; and all I can do about it is stress the parts of the legends that don’t have wolves in them?” he asked, words tumbling out of his speaker over each other, millennia of stress released.
“All I can do is pray and pray in the few free minutes I get before they put me back to sleep that MAYBE, just MAYBE, they’ll remember I have a lightning claw and a rocket launcher for arms, and put me back to GOOD use, instead of just using me like a ‘Baby’s First History Holovid,’ and I’ll get to go rip some Thousand Sons in half or something, rather than THIS!” he roared, nearby Techmarines and Enginseers staring at the display in shock. “Fuck me raw and call me a Salamander, If the Blood Ravens want to use me for what I was BUILT for rather than that, they can paint me hot pink and call me a Pretty Marine!”

>they can paint me hot pink and call me a Pretty Marine!


.....Does this mean the /tg/ chapters will be showing up soon?

>>14984040

Emprasque meeting the Angry Marines would be... interesting. How many times could they swear before the Emprasque gets pissed off? Would they dare call him a faggot, or some variation of? More importantly, what would Guilliman think of their more... esoteric additions to their armoury?

>>14984013
Right now I'm so fucking proud to bear this name.

>>14984077
Which name?

>>14984088
Björn.

>>14984060
If any loyalist would dare call the emperor a faggot, it would be an angry marine.

But just to see if hes angry enough of course, after the emperor obliterated the offending marine, the rest of them would probably cheer.

>>Guilliman’s face was a mask of professional horror.

THIS is an exceptional turn of phrase.
*tosses in an Internet*

Feedback; Primarch phrasing: Corax and Curze make for two interesting reflections on a very similar concept.
Outstanding in their brief appearances in The First Heretic are how Corax was, before his fight with Lorgar, as seen as being aloof, distant, and probably a small amount of scathing and sarcastic.
During the fight he's _fierce_, aggressive, dramatic.
A being of emotional extremes and a taste for the dramatic.
I find it hard not to use words like "Gothic" and "Emo," incidentally.

Contrast that to Curze. Curze is cold. Bitter. Sneering. A man tormented by foreknowledge of his own acts of betrayal and death.
Putting aside any division between Konrad Curze and the Night Haunter (and compared to Corax), Curze is cold, cruel, and poisonous.
Even to the Emperor. Even to the Emperor's *Face* on the eve of his recovery.

I suspect Dorn and Perturabo have a similar dichotomy. Dorn being the Perfect Soldier (whatever that means) and Perturabo being the Man Who Can Destroy/Kill Anything.

dinnertime

>>14984112
NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Have a nice meal hope to see you back later.

>>14984112
For me as well my friend. May the Emperasque fill both your stomach and soul.

Bjorn stood there angrily, his resentment and anger draining away, leaving Russ and Guilliman stunned by the outburst, Angelos looking like he was seriously contemplating shooting himself, and the Emperor wondering if anyone would have noticed if he had teleported out.
“I wonder what a Pretty Marine Chaplain would look like,” Grimnir mused, his hand over his mouth, looking contemplative.
Russ turned to look at him, astonished, his face pale. “Is…is that what you got from all that? You…you got the Pretty Marines?”
“Well, it’s a valid question,” Grimnir asked, keeping his face straight.
“You…I can’t even believe…you seriously,” Russ said, struggling to even speak. “You got, for all that…oh…you…damn it,” he said, trying to keep his anger intact under a rising tide of mirth, “you heard nothing but…but the damned…the…oh fuck you…” he managed before cracking up. The visible smirk on Guilliman’s face didn’t help. Russ stood there, doubled over, his arms wrapped around his heaving chest, gasping for air between peals of laughter. Tears poured down his face, and he nearly toppled over. Angelos managed a smile, while Grimnir let loose the chuckle he had been holding. Russ leaned against Grimnir for support, who rolled his eyes and grinned.
“All right, feel better, Lord Russ?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah…*snort* yeah, yeah, I…fuck,” he managed before being overcome with the giggles.

Roboute sighed. “Sir Bjorn, with that load of steam released, are you quite ready to speak about this civilly?”
“Fine. Ugh. Look, Grimnir, no offense, but I can’t take it anymore,” he started.
“So I gathered, Elder Bjorn,” Grimnir said, gingerly removing Russ from his shoulder. Russ finally got himself back under control, wiping tears of hysteria from his eyes. “I think that your complaints, though inappropriately delivered, hold merit. The Blood Ravens’ conduct, however,” he said, turning a glare loose on Angleos, whose faint smile vanished as if it had been dropped down a well, “is completely unacceptable.”
“I AGREE,” the Emperor said, apparently choosing to forget that he had already known of the dreadnought’s defection. “CHAPTER MASTER ANGELOS, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”
“Nothing, my Lord God,” Angelos said glumly. “It is true. Nothing else to say.”
“VERY WELL,” the Emperor roared, “THEN IN LIGHT OF BJORN’S…TESTIMONY, I THINK IT WOULD BE APPROPRIATE FOR YOUR CHAPTER TO BEAR PENANCE FOR THIS LARCENOUS BEHAVIOR. I WILL PASS ALONG MY JUDGMENT WHEN I HAVE HAD TIME TO CONSIDER THE REPERCUSSIONS OF THE ACT. BJORN, AS THE AGGRIEVED PARTY, WHAT HAVE YOU TO ASK?”
“Nothing to ask, sire, I’ve been having the time of my life since I got out of that bloody tomb,” the dreadnaught said, drawing an exasperated stare from Grimnir.
“ALL RIGHT THEN. ANGLEOS, STAY WHERE I CAN FIND YOU. BJORN, GRIMNIR, DISMISSED. ROBOUTE, LEMAN, GO GET SOME REST. I’LL HAVE A JOB FOR YOU BOTH TOMORROW.”

All right, I'm going to take a creative break to go play Borderlands. I'll be back in a few hours.

>>14984596
We shall endeavor to prevent this from404ing in your absence, my lord

rolled 15 = 15

bump

how about if he has the blood ravens fork over EVERYTHING they have ever stolen, looted, or pillaged, as punishment.

it occurs to me that's a lot of fucking "stuff" so where would he have them send the bulk of it? to the orphans? and what would they be left with other than the litany of fury and some scout armor? and would the emperor take some of the choicest bits for himselfI I'm sure the ravens have some quite peculiar things in their hoard.

If we're putting angry marines in, are we going to put in the Battle-Brother Marcius Flavius stuff?

Relevant threads.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/11509495/
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/11769524/
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/13343822/

Bumpin'

What about the Rising suns?

fear me, but BUMP!

"One bump is all we need."

"Bump of the righteous"

Bump with pic

All right, back, now for resolution of a dangling plot thread from...about 20,000 words ago.

>>14986405
Rejocie brothers he has retunred

>>14986475
REJOICING OCCURS

Bjorn's complaint nearly killed me. My roommate's been staring at me like I'm insanse.

>>14986527

>>14986548
wich episode is that from?

>>14986661
who even knows, I got the pic off of 4chan months ago.

At that very moment, Blackrippah the Gretchin-handler was running for his life. A tumbling ball of fire the size of a wartrack was falling down the hill behind him, crushing the hunter gretchins he had had been shepherding in the forest. He risked a glance over his shoulder and shrieked, redoubling his effort…but it was too late. The blazing orb of pine sap, promethium stolen from his own trukk, and gretchin bits rolled straight over him, killing him instantly.
Fifty yards away, Jaghatai Khan laughed, rubbing pine sap off on his armor. The white, red, and grey armor he had worn when he had chased that damnable Dark Eldar hadn’t aged any more than he had, but he knew better than to use up what tiny, precious ammunition supply he had on these foolish Orks. This was almost too easy, anyway! Orks were fearsome warriors, but dumber than a bag of hammers, and he had thrown them into total and complete anarchy.
For a fleeting instant, the sky blackened, as an Ork fightabomba screamed overhead, leaving a thick trail of promethium smoke. The pilot flew low and fast over the trees, looking for whatever had been tearing their forces to ribbons, but to no avail.
An angry shout became audible as the aircraft swooped off, coming from the direction of the ravaged main camp. Jaghatai looked out over the camp, grinning, as the fireball he had made rolled straight over the Warboss’s parked tank, setting its fuel merrily ablaze. The Warboss screamed and threw his underlings at the tank, trying to order someone to put it out, but it was too late. The tank exploded, casting white-hot shrapnel, pools of burning fuel, and rapidly-bursting ammo all over the area, and making a fine mess of the pine-sap drenched ball of kindling, too, spreading the fire even further.
Jaghatai smiled contentedly. Only one more step, he thought to himself, and then…freedom.

>>14986757
Gold I gold

>>14986661

Fry decides to go see if his old bank account is still open, his 49 cents turned into 4 billion dollars over the last thousand years. He uses said money to be rich and fancy, then to rent a retro apartment and live like he did in his time, then he buys the last tin of anchovies, then Mom steals all his money to convince him to sell the anchovies, then he makes an anchovy pizza and nothing changed.

>>14986795
>Gold I Gold
???

>>14986837
need sleep nite op

after dark bump

pis is how i feel about this thread

3-028-001-M42
Gabriel Angelos, Master of the Blood Ravens, sat on a sandbag just outside the outermost walls of Kasr Vortiga, stewing in his own misery. His stomach felt like it was curling in on itself, and he honestly couldn’t keep his hands from shaking even ben gripping them on one another. He tried wondering what would happen, but quickly abandoned the process, finding speculation useless. He tried praying, but immediately recognized it: his God-Emperor was judging him directly, what good was prayer?
After nearly three hours, the Emperor appeared out of midair before him, the shockwave nearly knocking him backward, though his augmented inner ear allowed him to keep his balance. He immediately cast his gaze to the ground, apprehensive in the extreme.
“CHAPTER MASTER ANGELOS. THE STORY BJORN TOLD ME IS SOMEWHAT DISTURBING,” the Emperor said. Angelos waited long enough to know that he was finished speaking before levering himself up off the sandbag, then kneeling before the gigantic Emperor.
“I know. They are factual,” he said, his voice dulled by resignation and nerves.
“YES. HE’S TOLD ME A LOT. SPECIFICALLY, HE’S TOLD ME THAT YOUR CHAPTER HELPS ITSELF TO ALL MANNER OF INTERESTING WARGEAR, LEFT BEHIND AFTER BATTLES. DO YOU REALLY HAVE A SUIT OF CUSTODES ARMOR SALVAGED FROM THE HORUS HERESY-ERA WARSHIP YOU CAPTURED FROM THE WORD BEARERS?”
“Well…yes, my Lord God. The Traitors hadn’t found it, somehow, it was jammed into the bulkhead in the abandoned core of the ship,” Angelos said, his stomach knotting even more.
“FASCINATING, REALLY, NOW LISTEN UP.” The Emperor’s tone grew dark, and Angelos felt the hair on his neck stand on end. He couldn’t resist tilting his head back and looking at the Emperor’s face.

Waiting for the next post so I can go to bed.

He needn’t have bothered; its utterly alien features were impossible to read. “CHAPTER MASTER ANGELOS, I HAVE ALLOWED THE BLOOD RAVENS A GREAT DEAL OF LATITUDE. YOU HAVE ALL MANNER OF ORGANIZATIONS THAT DEVIATE FROM THE CODEX ASTARTES, THOUGH CERTAINLY THAT IN AND OF ITSELF ISN’T A PROBLEM. WHAT I DO FIND PROBLEMATIC IS THE CREATION OF ROLES LIKE THE SECRET MASTERS AND THE PSYKANA, WHICH GO AGAINST THE RULES I ESTABLISHED AT NICAEA. YOUR LIBRARIANS HAVE DONE QUITE WELL OVER THE YEARS, PREVENTING FULL-SCALE DAEMONIC INCURSIONS, HERESIES, AND XENOS INVASIONS. HOWEVER, FOR EVERY TRIUMPH, YOU BRING RUIN ELSEWHERE.
“YOUR THIRD COMPANY CHIEF LIBRARIAN TURNS TO CHAOS, YOU KILL GUARDSMEN FOR DOING THEIR JOBS, YOUR CHAPTER MASTER HIMSELF MERGED WITH A GREATER DAEMON. ALL ARE THINGS WHICH YOU, PERSONALLY, GABRIEL ANGELOS, ARE NOT TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE, BUT THE PRACTICE OF STEALING FROM OTHER CHAPTERS LIKE A FLOCK OF MAGPIES IS THE LAST STRAW.”
Angelos squeezed his eyes shut and let his head hang in shame. “I understand, my Lord God. By what means shall I atone?”
“FOR NOW, I AM BINDING YOU TO THE DEATHWATCH,” the Emperor said, shocking Angelos into raising his head again. “THERE YOU WILL SERVE, ANONYMOUSLY, PROTECTING THE GALAXY FROM THE THREAT OF THE GLASIANS UNTIL THE BLUE DAGGERS FIND YOUR USE HAS EXPIRED. I WILL DECIDE WHAT TO DO WITH YOU AFTER THAT.”
Angelos recovered quickly. “Blessed Emperor, I thank you truly. I will never falter in the defense of the Eastern Fringe from the foul xenos menace!” he declared, elated. He was to be forgiven!
“NOT SO FAST, ANGELOS. YOUR OWN RECORD OF SERVICE, THE STRENGTH OF YOUR OWN ACCOMPLISHMENTS, AND BJORN’S TRUST MEAN A LOT, FOR YOU, BUT YOUR ENTIRE CHAPTER IS SKIRTING DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO HERESY WITH THEIR COLLECTION OF SORCEROUS KNOWLEDGE AND RELICS.”

>>14987281

BUMPS FOR THE BUMP GOD! MOAR FOR THE MOAR THRONE!

Also all of my love. All of it.

Angelos found his elation dying right back down. “My Emperor, only ever have we served the Imperium, loyally and capably.”
“WHEN YOU’RE NOT TURNING TO CHAOS, STEALING FROM YOUR BROTHERS, KILLING IMPERIAL GUARD, AND USING SORCEROUS WEAPONS. DON’T PATRONIZE ME, SPACE MARINE,” the Emperor roared dismissively.
Angelos felt his temper flare at the blanket condemnation, but wisely held it in check. “My Emperor, I-”
“MY MIND’S MADE UP, ANGELOS,” the Emperor roared. “YOUR OWN PERSONAL CONDUCT IS BOTH EXEMPLARY AND UNPARDONABLE, AND THAT OF YOUR CHAPTER IS BOTH HEROIC AND APPALLING. I AM NOT GOING TO HAVE YOUR CHAPTER DISSOLVED, BUT KNOW THIS: EVEN ONE MORE INFRACTION FROM THEM – ONE MORE MEANINGLESS KILLING OF GUARDSMEN OR SORORITAS, ONE THEFT FROM OTHER CHAPTERS, ONE MORE LIBRARIAN FALLING TO CHAOS; AND YOUR CHAPTER WILL BE GENE-HARVESTED AND DECLARED DEAD. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”
“Completely,” the Chapter Master said, bowing his head once more. “I shall inform my battle brothers, before I depart. To where shall I go?”
“VOID PLATFORM SIMGA OCTAN, CHAPTER MASTER,” the Emperor said, somewhat surprised by Angelos’ lack of protest. “THEY WILL EXPECT YOUR ARRIVAL. DISMISSED.” The Emperor vanished without another word.

All right, friendly people, the little dude is trippin', and I'm off to bed. We have ~70 posts before the limit, so one or two more per hour should more than keep the thread going until tomorrow.
As always, feedback/art is appreciated.

Where did all the drawfags go, incidentally? There were two or three per thread before.

>>14987757
they are to busy looking for their jaws to draw.

>>14987828
Thanks, fumbles. see you all tomor...uh, later today

sleeeeeep
here is gargantua

can someone tel me what GLASIANS are?

someone upload this to the wiki

bump

Stay alive, thread.

Clear!

bump for the bump god

Also, this is the best OC on /tg/ in ages. Congratulations, OP.

one last bump before work!

>>14988334
Glasians are a homebrew race, that one of the /tg/ homebrew chapters were created to fight. Basically, they're xenos whose homeworlds are JUST slightly beyond the astronomican's light, else they would have been exterminated millennia ago.
The long and the short of it is that they have a natural affinity for spaceflight, but beyond that, they aren't much smarter than orks. They have been corrupted at a very low level by the warp, as a species, so it's easy for psykers to detect them, but it has the drawback of forcing their biology into an unnatural century-long pattern of expand, hibernate, colonize, reproduce, expand. Their territory is pushing up against the Imperium's territory at the eastern fringe. Each colonization cycle brings them into conflict with the Imperium, and since they take a few non-Imperial worlds in each cycle, they can mine and harvest those worlds' resources again and again, so every attack wave that hits the Imperium, one century after the next like clockwork, is a bit bigger, a bit tougher, a bit more advanced, a bit harder to kill.

Just keeping the thread afloat until I find time to write more.

LIVE IN HIS NAME!

Ayup.

BAMPZ.

Oh cleric of the great Emperasque, someone else, hear us! Bring us more tales of Him!

Well, I think I'm worn out on the story for now, folks, I've written 15,000 words in the past two days. I'll write some more at a later date.

>>14992827
Once again, we thank you for your glorious contributions to /tg/. Rest well, tripfriend.

>>14992827
Cheers, dude. It's always good times when you have the time to write.

put this on the wiki before it is too late! please, the emperasque's work must be chronicled!

>>14993734
It is chronicled, it's all up on sup/tg/.


I'll do a bit of writing now, but I may not post it here, I may just post it in the next thread, in the future.

same anon that wanted this on the wiki here. a possible idea, you could directly type your stuff into the wiki and then post it onto /tg/ after writing that out it sounds like a horrible idea. never mind.

Thanks for writing all this, SE. It's people like you who keep /tg/ fun.

We're all very grateful.

>>14997026
Hey. Hey. Hey. Shut the fuck up.

I'm happy to report some meaningless statistics!
7 fanarts
108 pages in Word, single-spaced, over 3,540 lines of 12-point calibri
47,423 words
276,075 characters
1,208 paragraphs
5 archived threads
1 1d4chan page
2 DoW II:Chaos Rising emblems in Alpha Legionnaire colors


I'd prefer if we just let this thread die, and I'll make a new one next week some time.