[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Settings   Home
/tg/ - Traditional Games

>Be a guardsman deployed to some backwater planet overtaken by heretics
>first mission, want to actually survive
>valkyrie drops down just as the sky turns a dark red
>hear commissar whisper 'daemons...'
>suddenly, in the middle of camp, a massive portal opens up and monstrous creatures that look like massive hounds, as well as inhuman monsters covered in horns and spikes, wielding massive swords, step out
>be one of a handful of guardsmen to not only repel these 'daemons', but successfully wipe out the heretics on the planet
>wait dutifully for the valkyrie to arrive to bring us to our next mission or possibly a medal ceremony
>instead, an inquisitor shows up on the planet, shoots the rest of us in the head

Share your stories, fellow soldiers of the imperium
File: H1OJEu8.jpg (979 KB, 987x1149)
979 KB
979 KB JPG
>deployed to a planet infested with orks
>spend days ruthlessly holding the line, shooting anything green that moves
>start to get good at it, enjoy murdering the filthy xenos
>the more I kill, the better I feel about killing them
>hear voices in my head whispering that I should kill my idiot comrades who nearly broke the line against the last wave of greenskins
>commissar notices that my eyes are starting to glow red
>shoots me in the back of the head
>Deployed to a planet in the midst of an uprising by mutants
>campaign lasts months
>During this time, start getting better and better with my terrible gun
>enjoy my amasec, recaf, and tobacco rations
>as our troops start to dwindle, some companies fold in with each other
>notice there's quite a few attractive men in the other company, fuck all of them during rest hours
>start setting challenges for myself - get 3 headshots in a row, blast a mutant's extra arms off before killing them, etc
>go to sleep after fucking my third comrade in 3 sleep shifts
>wake up covered in his entrails, with his blood painted in beautiful designs on the wall of my tent
>Shot in the head by commissar for heresy
File: 1252206845728.jpg (861 KB, 577x900)
861 KB
861 KB JPG
>Deployed to a planet undergoing a Dark Eldar raid.
>Good luck ever hitting the bastards, and pray to the god emperor that you dont get caught.
>Get the sniffles, but push on
>Get shot with one of those fucking splinter rifles
>It's like every inch of your fucking body is covered in splinters, inside and out.
>Get put into the med tent, but sniffles turns into wracking cough
>Medicine does nothing
>However, a voice whispers in my head that it can take away the pain. I of course agree
>Next day, im totally fine. Walk out on my own two legs.
>Im a bit smelly, but who cares?
>DE weapons dont hurt anymore
>I can litterally tank a whole salvo of splinter shots now and not feel a dam thing.
>Commissar notices my rotting flesh, and lack of hygiene
>Shoots me in the back of head
>Turn around, shoot him back.
File: desert.jpg (18 KB, 250x277)
18 KB
>Be serving on barren wasteland planet, fending off the orks alongside local militia
>Running low on ammunition and explosives, but holding the line nonetheless
>Supply drop finally comes in
>We open the crates
>It's all fucking bayonets
>Every single crate, full of bayonets
>Suddenly hear word of a new ork offensive from the east
>Little ammo, no grenades, but a whole lot of bayonets
>Cobble together makeshift cannons that fire the bayonets
>We somehow manage to survive the ork onslaught using what little ammo we had left and the bayonets
>Die anyways of dehydration because the administratus couldn't get us enough water, instead sending us ingots of lead
>Such is life
> Join the guard
> On the ship to wherever we are fighting, the medicae discover that I have spikerot. something that will cause me to have a slow, painful, death in a few years.
> Talk to guardsmen from other regiment on the ship. Learn how long I'm likely to live. No longer worried about spikerot.
> Learn about our deployment. We are going to be purging some random xenos so the Imperium can settle their homeworld.
> Xenos aren't going to be much of a threat.
> Start volunteering for suicide missions so I'll die honourably before the spikerot gets me.
> Sometimes I reach the targets location to find it not there.
> Sometimes it's already blown up because the xenos pissed off the machine spirits.
> One time Space Marines showed up, blew up the target and then gave me a ride back to base.
> Never get shot at by the xenos.
> Despite my best efforts, I get the credit, and a medal, for succeeding on every suicide mission.
> Xenos are pushed back to their last fortress
> Spikerot pains starting
> Volunteer to be in the first wave assaulting the fortress.
> Command refuses because my 'successes' make me too valuable.
> Medicae can't do anything about the pain
> Commissar refuses to shoot me.
> be drafted into the Gard
> be sent off-world to reinforce a world against tau menace.
> Hit and run warefare in the jungle. Those xenos use drones and stealth tactics.
> After losing half the squad, we are paired with a regiment from Catachan
> those guys know how to make shit done. learn a few trick or two about trapmaking.
> suddenly, we lose contact with high command.
> the xenos send us a message to ally our forces against a greater menace.
> Obviously fake. Call it, I shit you not, a "tee ran'id".
> Local general thinks they want to buy time to get reinforcement. Rally the army to march on their main base snice they,re in a posision of weakness.
> We charge behind the tank
> The xenos retreat.
> In fact, they abandon the planet but not without destroying the main spaceport.
> We ended saving this planet against the xeno
>we are truly are blessed by the God-Emperor

>voluntold to join the Guard
>voluntold by my mate to try and nab the Commisar's cap
>voluntold I would be serving in a penal legion
>voluntold to board the dropship
>ship shakes so hard on entry I smack my jaw on the safety bar
>think it's broken
>crash land
>feel my spine dislocate
>voluntold to exit first
>it's hot
>it's a muggy forest
>there's bugs and shit everywhere
>it reeks
>general shape of a city in front of me
>man next to me immediately catches a round and his chest pops like a balloon
>voluntold to move forwards
>thank the emperor I'm running forwards
>keep running
>bullets, tracers, explosions on every side of me
>keep running
>reach a wall
>realize I dropped my rifle in the dirt behind me
>Commissar catches up to me
>hands me my dropped rifle
>shoots me in the head for my carelessness
>Deployed to the front of some backwater
>Tau have landed a beachhead and are pushing hard
>Draw straws for who gets the Special Weapon
>Get assigned Plasma Gun
>Last three troopers to carry it died when it malfunctioned and vented out the fuel cell
>Load up in the Chimera
>Reach Firebase
>Listen to Commissar and Platoon Commander bellow about duty and orders
>Commissar is actually a frontline veteran
>Two executions for cowardice
>One for court marshaling
>Lieutenant is reasonably competent
>Doesn't leave men behind
>Techpriests bless our lasguns
>Reaches me
>Checks Plasma Gun
>[Screams In Binary]
>Repairs faulty coils due to whoever first had it fucking up the fuel cells on a reload
>Suddenly not so unhappy about having Plasma Gun
>Rest at post in trench for few hours rest
>Roused to take watch
>Uneventful night
>Commissar walks our trench with Lieutenant
>Carefully nod in acknowledgement
>Always wary of snipers
>join the guard
>deployed in a big-ass hive
>kick down doors, toss grenades inside and shoot the shit out of renegades, mutants and other fucks, hell yeah
>this one time the door refuses to come down after a good kick
>blast it off, turns out it was covered with some super sticky reddish-green goo on the inside, like superglue on steroids
>no one inside
>proceed further, blasting off doors, slicing pies and occasionally scrubbing goo off our armor
>still no one in sight
>finally, reach a room covered in the goo floor to ceiling
>suddenly, a shriek
>fucking monsters made of teeth and claws swarm from every fucking hole, I shit you not
>behind us appears an especially large thing, with even more claws, out of fucking thin air
>drop some grenades and leg it
>scream sitrep mixed with obscenities over the vox
>grenades go off, the stream of bloody bastards behind me does not thin
>the guys back near the level entrance quickly deploy a heavy bolter and an autocannon
>they start mowing the things down, accidentally hitting one of ours but he was already swarmed beyond saving
>after like an hour of non-stop shooting the stream finally ends
>grab flamers and every explosive we can get and fucking burn the things out, room by room, level by level, all the way down to the fucking surface
>takes whole three days
>lose nearly half of our men
>get chewed, stabbed, sprayed with acid, shot with whatever green shit they spit on us
>almost lose some limbs, but the medic patches me up quickly
>finally, the last bloody piece of shit is dead
>the commander orders to seal off that part of the hive, fill it with flammable gas and ignite it
>the stuff burns for two weeks straight
>celebrate success
>get super wasted, show my fresh battle scars to chicks, get ready to get my junk dipped with two hotties
>the navy arrives and exterminates the planet
>fuck my life
>Be Gue'vesa'la (Human auxilary in the Tau Empire)
>Going to launch an attack to secure an ork stronghold.
>Gue'vesa'ui leads the squad while XV22 Battlesuits and Barracuda Strike Bombers give supporting fire.
>Take the stronghold with minimal losses
>Only one dead Gue'vesa'la in our squad
>Eventually war is over, go home to my family on the home planet
>Live a quiet, comfortable life since humans in the Tau Empire are mostly left alone on their planets and the Gue'vesa are only called on in extreme crisises.
>Laugh at the Imperial Guard dying in the millions
>Commissar is wearing a pull over fatigue coat to cover his laurels
>Common helmet
>Zone has been hot, really not taking chances with the snipers
>"Guardsman, why is your weapon not at the ready?"
"Garrett is getting his round of sleep. I've got his Lasgun sir. I didn't want the glow of the Plasma Gun to give us away."
>"Common sense. A rare trait. Carry on."
>Potentially score points with command
>Keep watch with binocs as the sun rises
>Notice weird shapes
>Wake up trenchmates
>Second looks and opinions
>Warm up coils on plasma because bad feeling
>Crunching noises
>Smell of ozone
>Bring Plasma Gun up over the edge of the trench and fire
>Splash a shimmering form
>Someone else calls out "STEALTHSUITS!"
>Fire shots into the air
>Lasguns flare off hundreds of bolts
>Catch a few lucky hits and boil the foul xenos in their armor
>Pulse munitions fly overhead
>Ground shakes as railgun ordnance hits the trenches and surrounding bunkers
>Barely hear anything over the sound of impacting artillery strikes
>See flicker
>Go to ground
>Railgun round skims the ground in front of the trench
>Smashes into the rear
>Knocked out from shockwave
>Wake up sometime later
>Nothing happening
>Blurry vision
>Feel warm and wet
>Laying in blood
>Check for wounds
>Lucky to be unscathed
>Squad not so lucky
>Crunching noises
>Thruster sounds
>Lay still
>Tau battlesuits jump over the trenches while others march forward over them
>Pray to the Emperor for salvation
>Not noticed
>Hear eloquent High Gothic, but not human voice
>Wait for clear moment to move
>Crawl to edge of trench
>Surviving Guardsmen on their knees in front of two battlesuits and one of those Ethereals
>Feel sick and full of rage as they remove their helmets
>They surrender
>Go with the Tau
>Slide back into trench
>Find Plasma Gun
>Looks intact
>Take a Laspistol and Chainsword off dead sergeant
>Scavenge some grenades and a melta bomb
>Try to sneak away
>Find a spot to hide
>Take cover among the dead and supplies
>Restless night, but stay safe
>Wake up after 2 hours of rest
>Morning patrol before crack of dawn, find units killed at night by Xenos infiltrators
>Dig trenches to further secure camp, lay razor wire and land mines
>Get told to go on suicide attack
>Excitement escalates
>Join in attack, unfortunately manage to survive, but did my duty to the Emperor
>Report back to go over how we can do it better tomorrow
>Go to sleep
>Repeat every day
>Join the guard
>Deployed fuck knows where
>A lot of eldar
>Commands starts a big offensive
>Load up in a Chimera with my mates and set out
>Get stuck in a swamp
>When we pull the bloody thing out, the rest of our forces are already way ahead
>Speed up to catch up with them
>Reach a huge battlefield
>Corpses and vehicle carcasses everywhere
>Some shots and blasts in the distance
>Looks like we're winning and pushing the knife-ears back
>Yay guard
>Notice a stray gravtank moving in our direction
>Must have made it through our lines to attack from the rear
>Not on my fucking watch
>Nick it with our Chimera's lascannon
>It crashes
>Get out to check on it
>One of them pointy eared bastards got out
>Pin the shitbag down with lasgun fire
>Squadmate shouts at the xeno to drop its weapon
>It surrenders and removes the helmet
>It's a xeno girlie

The rest is history.
>on a planet, fighting against some entrenched heretics
>very little food, bare minimum of laspistol rounds
>commander is an incompetent fuck
>on third week, start having thoughts about how much better I would do in charge
>fourth week, my company sergeant takes a bolter round to the head, I take his plasma gun and keep up the fight
>start getting more accolades
>realize I'm in the perfect position to take charge if only my commander was dead
>sixth week, have my plan perfectly laid out
>as a wave of heretics approaches our encampment, I suddenly shoot several of the soldiers standing in the way of the 'heretics' and the commander
>this gives the other forces a chance to easily take out the commander
>sprout a third arm as I grab the commander's carapace armor
>grin as all around me, the smarter forces pick off my former comrades one by one
>come to realize I've been given a blessing by Lord Tzeentch
>accept the markings of Chaos
>before we can successfully open a daemonic portal to bring forth some chaos space marines or daemons, a fresh wave of guardsmen arrive
>Take a shot to the sternum, only survive because lord tzeentch granted me a thickened ribcage
>fire back, blow off the commissar's head
>celebrating my victory as a portal begins to open
>before the first screamers can step out, the air shimmers with golden light
>get teleported into the warp before the exterminatus wipes out the planet
>cackle in glee that I've served lord Tzeentch well
>a bloodletter eats me
File: 1461440506670.jpg (17 KB, 349x320)
17 KB
>laspistol rounds
File: TalosPainEngine.jpg (113 KB, 371x583)
113 KB
113 KB JPG
>sent to some backwater planet to serve
>it's dull, but hey, I get to survive
>one morning, suddenly hear that we're under attack
>it's the filthy eldar in black ships
>heard tales that sometimes, the xenos are willing to parlay
>know I'm going to die anyway, surrender to them
>the eldar simply cackle, and take me prisoner
>they inject me with a drug that feels like fire through my body
>by the time they finish taking scores more of my brethren prisoner, I'm in the most intense pain I've ever felt
>the eldar torturing me begin to glow as they hear my screams
>time loses all meaning as I'm constantly introduced to new pains, either whips until my skin is flayed, slowly having each bone in my body broken one by one, rods shoved under all my fingernails, and constant new drugs
>pray to the God Emperor to save me or at least kill me
>what must be decades later
>I've long since lost hope, as each day I'm tortured anew in a world called 'commorragh'
>suddenly, the door bursts open
>a giant figure in gleaming, golden armor and a flaming sword begins effortlessly cutting through the eldar forces
>By the emperor, it's the emperor!
>renewed with hope as the eldar are cut through like butter
>the God Emperor himself had awoken and come to save me personally
>tears are running from my scarred eyes as he approaches me
>"Your cries have been heard, guardsman."
>I'm beside myself with joy
>"And they are delicious."
>He suddenly grins at me
>stabs his flaming sword through my chest
>I was hallucinating the whole thing
>the goddamn eldar were torturing my mind now
never trust a knife-ear.
>Get deployed on garrison duty to a Hive World
>Have a pretty good time, despite shitty air
>Some weird Cult of the Emperor on the planet. One of those strange sects that give him multiple body parts to represent his power or some shit
>Bunch of the guys in the Regiment start joining
>Commisar starts getting suspicious, tells us to keep an eye out
>One day, suddenly tells us everything is fine and nothing is wrong
>A few years later, our planet is cut off from the Astronomicon, and the regiment psykers start screaming about some dragon
>Almost immediately afterwards, worker riots break out all over the planet
>Get sent with the regiment to suppress them
>We get out of the Chimera, when one of my squad mates hits me over the back of my head
>I wake up in some part of the underhive. Walls are covered in weird goo, which is holding me down
>See a Xenos hunched over another person stuck to the wall, sticking its long tongue down his throat
>And I'm next
Please send help.
>Be Gue'vesa'la
>Be fighting foolish Guardsmen during Imperial offensive
>Pulse Rifle glows hot as it mows down wave after wave of imperial chaff
>Try to convince few surviving prisoners of perks of being Gue'vesa'la
>Succeed with a few
>Brief moment of worry when we get hit by imperial armored brigade
>Survive, single-handedly destroy 3 tanks and save platoon
>Credited as hero, given honor blade (unheard of for Gue'vesa'la)
>War going so bad for imperials they retreat
>So embarrassed they make up some ridiculous excuse about a fleet of insects invading
>Crawl from position at dark
>Forward base in ruins
>Tau moved on
>Scavenge for equipment
>Find a vox
>It works
>Contact anyone
>Unit has fallen back to a tertiary landing zone
>Forty klicks south east
>There's a Salamander that still runs
>Hope there's enough promethium in the tanks
>Roll out of the ruined FOB
>Cruising along
>Make good pace
>Vox occasionally flickers
>Weird crossed transmissions
>Start catching odd xenos bits here and there
>Something something gue'la
>Worthless xenos filth can't even say humans right
>Pedal to the floor
>Duty doesn't end cause someone thinks you're dead
>Two klicks shy of the LZ
>Engine sputters
>Out of fuel
>Curse the machine spirit for being a thirsty bitch
>Hear sound of battle in the distance
>Grab gear, start marching
>Come up on the rear flanks of the Tau artillery lines
>Broadsides lobbing ordnance into the landing pad
>See the whispy Ethereal talking with other Tau
>Offer one final prayer to the Emperor
>Sneak as close as possible
>Laspistol in one hand
>Frag grenade in the other
"Stop right there, xenos scum!"
>Honor Guard battlesuits spin up their Burst Cannons
>Phalanx to protect the Ethereal
>"Gue'la, put that down. There is no need for this."
>Keep aim, even though there's little point.
>"You face such poor life with your Imperium. The send you to die for your Emperor. Why not join us and live for the Greater Good?"
>Footsteps approach
>Wounded Guardsmen with Tau bandages
>Barely a day and already the Aquila had been removed from their helmet
>Crudely painted Tau symbols were on their shoulder plates
>"Your comrades have joined us already. They know what can be if we work for the Greater Good. See how readily we accept those willing to cooperate?"
>Lower the laspistol
>Burst Cannons spin down, but remain up.
>Ethereal steps from between them and approaches.
>"Good. Now drop it."
>Pistol hits the ground
>Guardsmen look relieved.
>Ethereal reaches out to touch your shoulder
>Grab Ethereal
>Choke hold with grenade in hand
>Pull pin, hold lever
>Guardsmen no longer look relieved
>Burst Cannons spin up again, but hesitate
>"You are a fool, gue'la! You could have had such a better life in service to the Greater Good!"
>Tighten grip
>Crunching sounds
>The artillery has stopped
>Broadsides are standing behind you
>Throw frag into the air
>Duck back between the battlesuits with your hostage
>Tumble down the hill
>Come to rest on top of Ethereal
>Frag explosion disoriented the battlesuits
>But they're coming
>Hope Plasma Gun still works
>facing down waves of nids
>Lasgun pack runs out of power
>have no packs on me
>run back to grab a fresh pack
>Commisar thinks I'm retreating and shoots me in the back of the head
>Get deployed to fight some nids
>Get shot by some thorn cannon thing
>While the upper half of my torso flies through the air I see my shitty comrad also getting blasted apart
>Die upon impact
Is this supposed to be funny?
Do you know what 40k is? This is considered light-hearted.
Even the imperium is better than xeno communists
>the rest is history
I hope you don't mean "the rest is heresy" brother?
>Pull trigger
>Plasma flares up and erupts out the end
>Blast off a Broadside's head
>Burst Cannons spit a rain of shots around you but not at you
>Grab your hostage
>Drag the Ethereal with you as you retreat toward the LZ
>Bombardments have slowed to a halt
>Must be telling each other what's happening
>Battlesuits fly overhead
>Getting surrounded
>Prime Meltabomb
>Hold with Ethereal
>Staring down dozens of Broadsides, Riptides, and Crisis battlesuits
>Suddenly, huge lasbolts strafe the battlesuits
>Vendetta gunships let loose shots
>Valkyries follow with a volley of missiles
>Battlesuits strain to turn and engage
>Swing Meltabomb up and magnetize it to a Riptide's hips
>Dive for cover
>Meltabomb blows the Riptide in half
>Splash plasma fire across the back of a Broadside
>Cover the Ethereal as the Tau are broken and panicked
>Miraculously unscathed
>Tau fight to the end to try and reclaim the Ethereal
>Valkyrie lands
>Lieutenant and Commissar disembark
>"Guardsman? We thought you dead in the trenches."
"The Emperor seems to have other plans for me, Sir."
>"It would seem so. I see you've not come back from the grave empty handed."
>Hoist the Ethereal up, despite its struggling.
>Stormtroopers escort the Ethereal to another Valkyrie.
"There's something else you should see, Sir."
>Gesture up the ridge.
>The Commissar and Lieutenant move up to the Tau's former emplacement.
>Some Fire Warriors had surrendered.
>The dozen some odd wounded Guardsmen stood with them, held at gunpoint.
>"More prisoners..."
>The Commissar stepped around the Fire Warriors to examine the traitors.
>"And more corpses."
>The wounded Guardsmen fell to their knees, begging for mercy.
>The Commissar raised his bolt pistol and fired with ruthless efficiency, pausing only to when his magazine ran dry.
>Three remained.
>"Yes, Commissar."
>"Let the Mechanicus have these. I'm sure they need more servitors."
Keep going anon, I'm having this auto-update cause I love this.
Great job!
>As if on queue, a Valkyrie with Mechanicus heraldry landed.
>A small squad of Skitarii with an Engineseer stepped out.
>The traitors begged for mercy, death, forgiveness.
>"Fear not, traitors. Your deaths would be wasteful. Now can you serve the Greater Good. For the Emperor, of course."
>The traitors were silenced by a number of shock mauls, then dragged away.
>You snap to attention.
>"You are to be commended for your actions. Only you and the Emperor know how you achieved such a feat, but for now, you've assisted greatly in securing this sector. The Tau will likely yield for a prisoner exchange."
"We're going to negotiate with these xenos?"
>"Are you questioning your superior?"
"Never, Sir. I misunderstood."
>"Of course you did. Get to the Medicae. You've earned a rest with your medal."
>The Lieutenant and Commissar offered you a salute, and a handshake.
>Flanked by some veterans, you were ferried to the landing pad and brought to the Medicae facility.
>You had suffered some internal bleeding and damage to your liver, no doubt from shockwave trauma.
>You get put under by a Biologis Adept for some rather invasive Medicae procedures.
Wait the direction is now scaring me.
This does not look like its about to head in a good direction.
keep Going
File: 424px-Illus4.jpg (59 KB, 424x600)
59 KB
don't stop
>You awaken some time later with some rather painful new scars and stitches.
>A Hospitalier soon comes to your bedside.
>"Don't move. You'll tear your stitches."
>Her hand reaches up to toggle the motion alarm from your monitor.
>Her skin is a soft shade of bronze.
>Her white hair sways in front of her radiant emerald eyes.
>The heraldry of the Sororitas is visible on her shoulder plates and armor, along with her richly embroidered tabard.
>Your muscles twitch reactively as she pulls off the sheet and touches your wound.
>"For such a brave Guardsman you're rather jumpy."
>Her fingers carefully peel the dressing away to examine the area.
>She comments under her breath, bringing a stool over.
>"Can you recite the Litany of Accuracy from memory?"
>You pause.
"Grant me the sight of the eagle, the calm of the bree-EEE-"
>You hiss in pain as you feel the sting and burn of the needle.
>"No stopping, hero."
"...the patience of a saint-Nnn!"
>More probing and prodding of the tender area.
>"Keep going. You're almost there."
"...and the skill to smite the foe from afar."
>By the time you're done, the area is rather numb.
>"Good boy. Now that you're numbed up, I'll see if I can't clean up what damage the Mechanicus did..."
>You can only feel mild pressure as she works, and see only some parts.
>It seems like she is restitching your wound while quietly humming hymnals.
>After she finished, she applied some balm to the area.
>"Don't go trying more heroics like that for at least a week."
>You relax in the bed, only to feel a rush of warmth enter your arm.
>She injects something into the IV line and sleep soon claims you.
>"Sweet dreams, hero."
Oh no.
Did you live?
File: Ward_Sentinel.jpg (17 KB, 250x376)
17 KB
I see right through you

also is our hero dead?
>You awaken with a groan as something cold hits your arm and travels through your body.
>"Ah, our hero returns to life once again."
>The Lieutenant and Commissar flank your bed, with the Biologis fiddling with your IV bag.
>"Your attending said you should not be disturbed but as you may know already, with the loss of most of the platoon, and then some..."
>"...You're being reassigned and promoted, Corporal."
"Thank you, Sir?"
>"How experienced are you at manning a turret?"
"I am quite capable of pointing a very large gun at something and pulling a trigger, Sir."
>"Wonderful. It won't be a glorious clandestine combat operation, but at least you'll be useful while you recover."
>You were briefed.
>Removal from the standard rank and file and placed into one of the teams of veterans who normally operate independent from a majority of the platoon.
>As a Chimera gunner.
>"Make good of these next two days of rest. We've had the Biologis spike your drip to accelerate healing a bit."
>Your superiors offer you another handshake and depart, leaving a small file folder on your side table.
>The Biologis follows soon after.
File: 1468057623797.jpg (352 KB, 1200x1440)
352 KB
352 KB JPG
Someone better be recording this. This shit's too good.
How accurate is this? I'm very new to 40k but surely if warp travel is this dangerous, nobody could really do anything like move armies around etc.
It's an exaggeration.
t. astropath
It's not true at all
Stop falling for heresy, Guardsman. His Guiding Light steers the faithful unerringly.
If every ship lost 8/10th of their crew every time they warp jumped they'd literally never be able to travel anywhere
I'll continue once I get home.

>tfw dereliction of duty
>Sitting on some backwater planet that doesn't have much going on
>Just guarding some hotshot comm station that somehow hasn't been instantly blown up
>Look up
>Huh there are apparently a lot of imperial ships in the sky, are we evacuating the planet?
>Suddenly huge searing light so bright that I don't even get time to hit the ground
>Entire planet blows up
>All because they found some heresy in one of the cities I've never even seen
>Curse the machine spirit for being a thirsty bitch

Best fucking thing I've heard all day.
File: Macrocannon.png (891 KB, 1200x927)
891 KB
891 KB PNG
I'll go over the major points:
>Inner working on particularly large, old, and poorly maintained ships can lose touch with the outside world, but its more like an insular small rural town than a complete disconnect. In some cases jobs are inherited and not understood by the ones performing them. Press ganging naval recruits is not unheard of, but most do receive a salary.

>The warp is dangerous, but also needed for fast travel and powering psychic abilities. It is full of demons and such, but interstellar travel is common enough in the imperium to be one of the few technologies that is more or less reliable. Void shields flickering isn't guaranteed to go full Event Horizon, but it might get a crewman possessed, so stay on your toes.

>Time dilation is rare and tends to be mild to moderate in severity. Mis-aimed jumps are also rare, and easily corrected when they do happen. Barring a major problem, crew mortality purely due to traveling through the warp is almost unheard of and when it does happen, consists of one or two crew members going missing inexplicably, not 8/10 of the crew dying. When problems happen, they are usually due to battle damage or poor maintenance.

TL;DR: Warp travel is less "driving through an active volcano" dangerous and more "driving through a bad neighborhood in Detroit" dangerous. It's not SAFE but so long as you don't break down or call attention you should be ok.
>Get shot in the head
>Post on tg
I'm not sure that commissar was wrong.
>Embark on Valkyrie, prepare for planetary drop.
>Macro Cannon from renegade vessel penetrates landing bay defenses
>Valkyrie explodes
>Captured by Orks
>Used by Nob as 'Lucky 'Umie'
>Escape to Imperial lines, Orks follow and massacre everyone.
>New planet, new plan of escape.
>It works. I think
>Tau on this world.
>Talk it that snake speak of theirs.
>Suddenly Orks Kommandos.
>Realize Orks deliberately let me go so I can lead them to a target
>Two days pass
>You're not sure how it passes as quickly as it does
>You're roused by another odd sensation travelling through your arm
>This time, it's the Hospitalier
>"I hope you've had a nice nap, hero."
"Why do you call me a hero, Sister?"
>"I call all Guardsmen heroes. You fight for those who can't, and you serve the Emperor dutifully."
>She helps you upright and out of bed
>Your wound doesn't hurt anymore
>In fact, it's nearly fully healed up
>"This is going to feel odd but I need to remove those stitches."
>She isn't wrong
>Snipping each little thread, tweezers then tug them clear of your flesh
>I'm not going to realistically describe how it feels to get stitches out. It's fucking weird and that's all I can say.
>She seems satisfied with your healing progress and helps you dress, moving with your body
>Some light physical therapy to get you limber after being inert for so long
>She hands you your armor
>Not only is it also relatively new, it's carapace.
>Not as striking as a Stormtrooper, but being in medium armor feels a lot more secure.
>"If you get injured, feel free to come back, hero. I'll be waiting."
>Like a dutiful soldier not interested in heretical thoughts of slamming your nurse into the gurney, you give her a proper Aquila salute.
>It's only now you realize she's as tall as you are.
>You leave the Medicae facility and report to the command bunker.
>The Commissar and Lieutenant are waiting.
>"Ah, good. Sergeant Voldune, this is your new turret gunner. Corporal, your new Sergeant."
>A stocky man with half a head on you looks at you with teal irises that seem to glow.
>Two scars on his face, with a bionic left arm.
>He reaches out with his right and gives you a firm shake.
>"I hear you're also confident with plasma. That's good. We'll have use for you on foot, too."
>You quietly make a note to try and find a Tech Priest to check whatever potential death traps they might be trying to shove into your hands.
>be guardsman on some backwater in an unimportant front of the crusade
>be trying to bring the glorious light of Him-On-Terra to these savages
>Rogue Trader that was ferrying us around fucks off
>no orbital support
>no air support
>it takes 5 Russes to take out a single enemy tank
>choke gas, whitefyre, and hallucinogens every time we make contact with the enemy
Oh well. I heard that some tank company got BTFO trying to break into a bank vault so they could use the money to hire interpreters since nobody on this damned planet speaks even low gothic.
Someone for the love of god cap this
>I call all Guardsmen heroes. You fight for those who can't, and you serve the Emperor dutifully.

>At least the Chimera turret is remote
>You tuck in the seat and familiarize yourself with the controls as an Enginseer instructs you in proper care of the turret's machine spirit
>You also drop subtle hints that the spirit of your plasma gun has been fickle, and requires soothing from a proper disciple
>Censored for tech heresy
>You're now part of an Emperor's Blade Assault Company.
>It's covering the patrol routes for the large landing zone.
>Vox chatter has been sparse and there has been talk of diplomacy.
>Lots of jokes and jeers are flying around the transport cabin as your fellow veterans take to hazing you.
>They try and pin the nickname of 'Sleepy' on you due to your several days of near-coma snoozing.
>At least your first patrol is rather uneventful.
>Auspex readings detect odd signatures here and there, but nothing when you investigate.
>The thought of stealthsuits comes to mind.
>Curiosity gets the better of you and you shift to the gunner's hatch.
>The Chimera slows to combat speed as you look around.
>Open ground.
>No shimmers.
>Eerily quiet.
>"Shut the hatch, Sleepy! You're letting the cool air out!"
>Not even a hint of a Tau trying to sneak around.
>Probably for the best.
>You slink back inside and shut the hatch.
>Back in the turret gunner's seat, you return to scanning the area with the auspex and swing the turret around.
>Patrol duty is boring, but at least you're not stressing your wound that doesn't seem to exist anymore.
>Get deployed
>15 minutes out, I get shot in the arm
>Crawl to safety
>Tear off the sleeve and tie it off to stop bleeding
>Crawl back when I hear everything go quiet
>Get picked up by fellow Guardsman
>Medic takes a look at me, says that my arm's gonna be fine, no amputation needed
>Commisar says that I was a coward for crawling away, and that I'm gonna be put in a penal battalion
>Get put in a penal battalion with a cast on my arm
File: 1454584007223.jpg (144 KB, 1280x1280)
144 KB
144 KB JPG
>grimderp guardsmen wasting resources and being executed for no reason
I'll pass thank you
I hope you're not planning on just stopping there.
That'd be some grade-A heresy.
>Pausing here for now.

Just keep the thread active until morning. I'm tired and need some rest.
File: FB_IMG_1487191962994.jpg (35 KB, 552x343)
35 KB
Commisar is never wrong, heretic!
this is fucking glorious.
Ill sum up this thread, except the one cool story.

>Be Guardsman
What's this? An amazing, well-written greentext series woefully underpopulated by bees?
Such is life in glorious Imperium.
Did they die standing?
Yes, which in the end, is what matters.
>be in one of those special named guard units
>kill a dreadnaught and chaos space marine with a chain sword single handed
>die to some random ricochet like a month later

File: 400px-AGP_Rough_Art.jpg (25 KB, 400x249)
25 KB
All guardsmen thread hype?
File: ABSOLUTELY HERETICAL.jpg (40 KB, 700x847)
40 KB
>deployed on board a battleship
>have to sleep in a Chinese hotel for two years, "food" is shapeless, almost-tasteless goo
>inbred rat-like manlets steal my stuff, get jizz all over my socks
>commissar wakes us up one day, we all stand in the hangar bay
>barely enough room to breathe the recycled air, guy in front of me farts as well
>after three hours the hangar door opens and a big blocky ship lands
>everyone who hasn't fainted is loaded on board the ship, everyone who won't wake up is given to the tech-priests
>commissar gives us a speech about how we must not show fear or look anywhere but to the front of the ranks
>okay then.jpg
>ship shakes as we take off
>ship shakes for three whole minutes before there's a sudden immense jolt
>door opens inwards, huge suck of air as the pressure equalises with the air of the ship we've crashed into
>new air smells like blood, sex, every kind of filth I could think of, and things I could never begin to describe
>commissar shouts and we all charge down the narrow hallways
>it gets dark and the corners and walls of the room are squishy and filthy, glowing slightly
>suddenly an intense roar comes around a corner, followed by evil laughter
>a guy at the back whines and the commissar tells everyone to hold their ground
>guy continues whining and the commissar shoots him, everyone's glad to have his whining stopped
>suddenly a shadow appears around the corner and we see a- [REDACTED BY ORDER OF THE INQUISITION]
File: into the shig it goes.jpg (27 KB, 640x640)
27 KB
Gue'vesa=Human auxilaries
Writefag here. Continuing.
You wot mate?
File: 1486744671558.png (311 KB, 540x493)
311 KB
311 KB PNG
>Not liking AGP
>No more trench duty for you
>Promoted to a watch tower
>Spotter for a sniper
>Quiet night
>Sounds of night time operations down below
>Nothing else to report
>Eyes get heavy
>Pour out some lukewarm recaf
>Whistling sound
>Drop cup, grab binocs
>Scan area
>Hear from camp "INCOMING!"
>No explosion?
>A large kick up of dirt and some debris
>Turn to look
>Some weird teardrop thing
>Tau markings
>Techpriests approach with their Skitarii at the ready
>Thing opens
>Xenotech holo-vox of some sort
>One of those Ethereals standing and speaking High Gothic
>Commissar approaches with Lieutenant
>Can't quite make out details
>Some kind of negotiation
>Searchlights flare up
>Tau flyer overhead
>Hydras draw beads
>Vox: "Hold fire."
>Tau ship lands near the pod
>Crisis suits step out around an Ethereal
>Other Tau walker suits recover the pod
>Everyone pointing guns at everyone
>Mexicanicus standoff
>Mexicanicus standoff

My sides broke light speed and entered the warp, only to be lost forever over its vistas of insanity.
File: images.jpg (10 KB, 298x169)
10 KB
<>suddenly a shadow appears around the corner and we see a- [REDACTED BY ORDER OF
>Mexicanicus standoff

Love it
>More quiet speaking
>Eventually the captive Tau were escorted out
>The Tau were allowed to the craft to leave
>Slide down ladder
>Move toward the commanders
"Sir, may I ask what that was about?"
>"That was called securing our interests."
>"Though the foul xenos deserve no such mercy, their expansions have been strained too far."
>"A naive attempt to besiege worlds of the Imperium without expecting brutal retribution."
"But we just... Let them go?"
>"Your duty is not to think or question, Corporal. Only to act."
"Of course, Sir! Forgive me."
>"Your insubordination will be overlooked, for now. Any other questions?"
"No, Sir."
>"Carry on. At your post."
>Return to watch tower
>Night passes quietly.
>Next morning is a buzz of activity.
>Reports from vox channels about the Tau force vacating the system
>A small fleet when counts came back
>Other regiments were called down for a new garrison PDF.
>Seems to be a reshuffling.
>The regiment is returning to the fleets for another deployment.
Sorta bored talking about the Tau, sorry if it's a cop out. There's more interesting battles to fight.
>Warp travel always gets your belly roiling.
>Thankfully it passed rather quickly.
>More reshuffling of regiments and soldiers.
>Planetfall was just ahead of an oncoming WAAAGH!
>Greenskins were chewing up worlds under the leadership of not one, but two rival warbosses.
>Warboss Granddakka and Warboss Bigdakka.
>Apparently they were fighting over who could bring the most dakka.
>Two stompas had been sighted with looted vehicles smashed on at every angle.
>Baneblade roller skates
>Vindicator fists
>Basilisk pauldrons
>There were countless lighter arms all over the monstrosities.
>There was certainly a lot of dakka.
>And you were being told now about how, along side Tempestors, your assault company was going to ambush one of these hulking behemoths of war.
>There was certainly a lot of dakka.

>The plan was laid out as a means of baiting the Orks into a series of traps.
>A few sabatoged pieces of equipment laid about in paths of open terrain laid out like firebases.
>Let them capture the booby trapped guns and hopefully blow each other up a bit as artillery rains down.
>Your task was to serve as a distraction force.
>Tempestors would drop in and infiltrate the Stompa of Bigdakka and set up a beacon.
>They would plant charges to halt the walker's locomotive abilities long enough for Deathstrikes to rain down on the Orks and their Stompa.
>Chimeras were not the transport, however.
>Rather than using your Chimeras, you'd be situated in Taurox Primes to keep up with your Hellhounds while the Scions dropped from Valkyries.
>The Taurox had a reputation for being a quick, lightly armored vehicle.
>'Lightly' translating to 'a rolling Scout Sentinel'
>You felt a small pit in your stomach.
"Restraint? Why are you so concerned with saving their lives? The whole idea is to kill the bastards. At the end of the war, if there are two americans and one russian left alive, we win."
General Thomas Power, U.S. Strategic Air Command
>Grow up in the back end of nowhere
>Join Guard because women love dem uniforms
>Hear some ridiculous rumors about distant wars
>Never gets confirmed
>Spend 60 years in the planetary garrison
>Retire as a decorated captain
>Most boring thing ever
nice one comrade
Bumping for greentext anon.
I now want to make an Elites section called "Shitpunchers" that are basically marines with T8/W5 MCs with two DCCWs and heavy flamers.

They punch shit.

That's their thing.
They have those already. They're called Assault Centurions.
Love can bloom
*love can BLAM
writefriend come back
>get assigned to storm traitor fortifications
>chaos must have fucked their heads because they think trench warfare and human waves are good ideas.
>Pinpoint Manticore strikes land on the most heavily fortified positions
>Get supported by Leman Russes and carried by Chimeras into battle. Valkyrie gunship keep those traitor SoBs from keeping their heads out of their shitholes for more than a couple of seconds at most
>Air Cav cuts off the earthworks from reinforcements
>Execute the rest of the traitors at our own pace
Don't know why people don't feel like using M2 era strategy.
he must
>Be me
>Be on planet fighting chaos
>repel daemons
>do so bravely that the inquisitor is suddenly is in a good mood and we survive
>decide to write diary entry
>kriegsmen asks for critique
>It said: Today was a normal day. KG-1738 was raped by "hentai tentacles" as the guardsmen from Tokyo Prime say it. Really, it was just another day out of the ordinary
>tfw we got faced with eldritch abombinations from another abomination and artificial demigods and Gustav think's its normal!
>Be me
>Me and Squad fighting Battle Suit of about 8 lads.
>Get fucked up BAD in a skirmish with a Battle suit team. I didn't really see what happened to hem
>Get knocked out by some xeno flash grenade
>Wake up my squad is easier mostly dead or being lead away.
>Look around to find what looked to be there Sergeant standing over me.
>"So Gue'la do you want to die here or join the greater good? Personally I would recommend Greater Good. "
>I Stutter out the reply "S-Sure.. Just let me get u-p-"
>He then picks me up and activates jump pack and brings me to med bay
>Lost and arm and got it replaced with some kick ass cybernetic.
>8 years later after that war with Tau. After about 12 years after the war I am promoted to 'Vre
>I realize out of all my friends. I am the only person in my regiment who become a a 'Vre.
>Retire before the next system is traveled to.
>I have no regret's.
>Get shot during a riot because they mistook me for one of the rioters. Thanks greater good.
W-writefriend? Will you come back?
He's probably editing some stuff to make sense, or looking at lore, or pooping, or preparing to make poop.
He could, at this very moment (which ever moment you read this in), be actively preparing to post.
Bumping this one up, I still have hope.
>instead, an inquisitor shows up on the planet, shoots the rest of us in the head
I've always found this to be exceedingly stupid, edgy and wasteful just for the sake of grimdark. It's not like guardsmen haven't fought chaos without turning over so it's absolutely unnecessary.

If they're gonna retcon shit with 40k end times then I hope this is one of the things they retcon out.
>>hear commissar whisper 'daemons...'
Here's how I know you're full of shit

Also if an inquisitor shot you in the head, how are you posting this? Checkmate, heretics
From where did you get this sweet art anon?
Writefriend come back ;_;
>The Tempestors were weird
>Silent most of the time
>Like Skitarii, but human
>Kriegers gave you less of the heebie jeebies
>A quick coat of midnight blue over your armor and vehicles and you were ready for deployment
>Some of your squad mates took some dataslate pictures
>They faked being Inquisition Troopers
>Public floggings curbed this behavior
>Holding your Plasma Gun close, you settled into the METAL BAWKS transport
>Again, you offered a prayer to the Emperor
>Two other veterans carried Meltaguns
>Your sergeant and the rest had assault shotguns
>Thankfully the Taurox Prime had a reasonable amount of firepower
>Missiles and autocannons were a nice addition to your armaments
>The Valkyries would have the first volley to punch holes into the Stompa with Hellstrike Missiles
>If that wasn't enough, your team was to get up and blast an entryway for the Scions to deploy
>"Ninety seconds to engagement zone."
>The voice was cold as ice and lacked any kind of emotion
>You slowly turned up the coils of your plasma gun
>"Sixty seconds."
>The troopers fell silent
>You heard the Valkyries' engines as they came in low for their strike vector
>The Missile Launchers moved atop the transport.
>The Autocannons outside the doors clicked and whirred as they fed and loaded their chambers
>"Ten seconds."
>The Stompa was moving.
>What was-
>The Taurox Prime spun, careened, then steadied back to its heading as the driver regained control
>Missiles streaked overhead and explosions rang out
I thought Tau have hooves?
>voluntold to join the Guard
>Entire regiment gets destroyed by 'nids except for 10 of us who were already on a shuttle
>Get promoted to commanding officer by default, as I am now the highest ranking man alive
>Get brought before council
>Sentenced to execution for the failure of my regiment.
1+ FNP to avoid dying
File: maxresdefault.jpg (150 KB, 1920x1080)
150 KB
150 KB JPG
>cadia fell because the inquesition keeps executing Cadians who happen to look up in the sky
Yeah it dumb as all fuck
File: OrkCommisar.jpg (43 KB, 640x480)
43 KB
>be guardsman
>get sent into a some random planet in the way of an ork waaagh!
>the battles started out quite easily
>greenskins just charge straight into the trenches, nothing lasguns can't handle
>they started bringing up killa kans and stompas
real quick
>we don't have heavy ordnance
>line starting to break
>remaining commisar and officers got noisily shanked by Kommandos last night
>whole perimeter got overrun
>hide in the store room, some orks started shooting up the place
>get slathered in green paint
>lost it
>ran outside chainsword roaring, disemboweling any greenskin i see
>a gigantic slab of green meat and metal walks up to me
>about to shit bricks
>points its power klaw at me and says, "now dats propa orky dat is"
>get perched up in top of the Warboss Squiggoth
>they made me a mascot
>when a orks retreat, they set me lose on them
>starting to enjoy it, food and drinks are more palatable than most imperial rations
>have my own staff of servant grots
>its the orky life for me
Laspistol ROUNDS
Does thou even administratum?
>get chaosed
>still fight for Imperium
Isn't that weird?
>be guardsman
>get shot
pretty sure cadians don't get executed for knowing about daemons considering their position, but they don't want the knowledge spreading to the imperium.
Das reel good.
Writefriend is kill
But it's not a fun that shoots chainswords. Now THATS orky
Yea hold up
How would that work?
>it's a heresy being committed by not using greentext properly episode
File: Laugh.jpg (103 KB, 517x768)
103 KB
103 KB JPG
I suppose if paps nurgle personally whispered to anons head, he's gonna want anon to be alive for some purpose.. for all we know nurgle anon held the line long enough for marine reinforcements to arrive so he could explode with a disgusting infectious disease
>be me
>tfw too intelligent for endless war
>decide to make an example to the commissar
>stage an elaborate little scene where I do not leave my tent after being called for the morning headcount, rather waiting in the tent with several copies of the astartes which I mull over thoughtfully as officers enter and ask why I haven't been present
>"well you see boys... I am an atheist emporer skeptic with an IQ of 142, and the tactics you are-
>get shot
File: tyranidsvsorks.png (292 KB, 379x280)
292 KB
292 KB PNG
>Bracing for a Tyranid invasion estimated to land in a few hours
>running munitions to the outpost, being a good obedient mule
>helping civilians into escape ships
>Space Marine reinforcements arrive
>aww yis
>run to trench bunker to fetch more ammunition
>invasion begins hours ahead of estimated time
>bunker entrance collapses
>trapped in bunker for hours with the commotion lasting only a few hours. Going mentally insane
>hear slight scratching
>feel viscous liquid starting to pool around boots and leak from the walls.
what would a fedora look like in the 41st millenium?
bump for writefriend. pls come back
According to Black Library: Like the Emperor.
>Writefag here, blame 4chan locking out mobile ip

>Will write in morning.

File: cron.jpg (34 KB, 450x450)
34 KB
>Be veteran of hundreds of battles
>been in the guard long enough to reach retirement
>final campaign is to root out an ork WAAAAAAAGH! from some backwater agri world
>then retirement with money and land
>orks keeping to their routine of charging the trenches every day, get mowed down by lasfire and artillery
>beat the greenskins back to their fortress, begin artillery barrage for final charge
>suddenly ground around us erupts with weird green sparks
>squadmates left right and center getting evaporated
> lolwtf.goldenthrone
>suddenly cant move
>pass out
>wake up with metal body and cool glaive
>told secrets of the universe
>told im a 'pariah' now
>finish wiping all life from planet
>sleep for 600 years
>worst thing possible happens
>get retconned

such is life
Did someone screen it already?
no, I mean the fedora itself.
File: Muffled BLAM.jpg (31 KB, 640x480)
31 KB
that's not a fedora. That's a peaked cap.
I-it was supposed to be a joke. A bad one, but a joke.
>imagining a fedora as standard issue military wear for elites
good lord
Doing the Emperor's work, soldier. Ave Imperator.
File: Spoiler Image (1.91 MB, 3264x2448)
1.91 MB
1.91 MB JPG
Ave Imperator
>The roar of Autocannon fire thunders around you
>Explosions flank your transport
>Launchers on the back fire off volleys of Krak Missiles into the nearing Stompa
Dope hat, where is it from?
It's a shame that Imperial Guard stuff looks so Nazish

Or rather that Nazis has such good designers making their stuff (Hugo Boss, for one.)
>Finally found a mobile IP

>Your transport suddenly flips, throwing everyone inside like ragdolls with bad physics
>One of the hatches flies open and spills four veterans out as the transport bounces and rolls
>When the ordeal is over you're left with a hot plasma coil searing at your balls
>You pray you're not going to suffer any long term damage or radiation
>Everyone struggles to get out of the wrecked transport
>You're pulled free by one of the Scions who was driving
>Any thanks you offer is returned by silence
>Down to 6+2 Scions, your squad leaves the wreck and tries to make some cover
>A Melta, Plasma, and four shotguns with the two Scions carrying hot shot laspistols and Chainswords
>Totally adequate for fighting that oncoming horde if Ork Boys
>Oh fuck that's a horde of Ork Boys
File: Spoiler Image (2.17 MB, 3264x2448)
2.17 MB
2.17 MB JPG
my hands are now permanently immobile
>The squad moves to retreat, only for a Scion to lift his Chainsword and block the way
>Instesd he levels his laspistol and fires, charging headlong into the oncoming horde
>It would be pointless to try running
>You'll only die tired
>Guardsmen die standing
>You spool up the coils and fire volleys of blue bolts of death into the charging masses
>Limbs boil away as the pair of Meltaguns join in a lethal fusillade
>Shotguns and laspistols plink away, earning participation awards
>A Scion catches the downward swing of an Ork Nob with his Chainsword and deflects the blow, coming up with the blade whirring
>Driving the blade into its throat and ripping the green flesh to shreds, he fires point blank shots through the greenskin's face
>The other sweeps wide and lops off another Ork Boy's choppa arm while blasting away lasbolts
>Rockets rain down danger close as two of the Valkyries break formation to splash the area around you with a salvo of fire support
>It's enough to open a gap to charge and try to break through
File: ork.jpg (85 KB, 510x546)
85 KB
my sides
Noice bunch there.
Nurgle likes bloated and dirty things, and there's nothing in the galaxy, not even nurgle, as bloated and grimy as the imperium.
>It's a shame that Imperial Guard stuff looks so Nazish
>Or rather that Nazis has such good designers
How is it possible to have opinions this wrong and also this shit. The imperial guard rank and file are clearly soviet conscripts, and pre-cucked german fashion was the best in ze world. Trenchcoats are still used all around the world today, as civilian AND military wear, no less.
File: 1456967207594.jpg (14 KB, 250x250)
14 KB
>>Shotguns and laspistols plink away, earning participation awards
The only even REMOTELY German-like Imperial Guard units are the Death Korps of Krieg, and Fascism didn't REALLY exist during WW 1.
There's also ye olde comissar
>Your squad is barely able to keep ahead of the closing Orks
>Orks are melee army
>I3 Guardsmen beat I2 Orks
>There's holes and smoldering craters in the metal ass of the Stompa
>Orks shoot out from the holes
>Your plasma flares up and splashes across the metal, kicking up sparks and molten metal
>Melta shows the encroaching Orks about the dangers of vaping
>A hail of lasbolts blast the openings before Valkyries scream off in a jack knife banking maneuver
>Scions leap out the back with the momentum and soar
>Grav chutes slow their landing enough to storm in
>You can't see much but as you fire you hear the rush of engines again
>One of the shotgun vets blasts at an Ork as another makes contact at long last
>Shotgun tossed aside like a toy as the power klaw turned him into a bloody smear
>Another vet gets grabbed by a Nob
>Pulls a krak grenade
>Punches grenade into Ork mouth
>Ork bites his hand off before the grenade blows his head apart
>Valkyrie swoops down and launches another volley
>Drop lines hang down
>Scion drivers from your Taurox hook on
>Quickly snap lines to your squad as you continue firing
>Suddenly jerked up like a toy in a malfunctioning crane game
>Fast roped up via winch and the ship rapidly ascending
>Meltavets, one hand man, Scions and you.
>The vox flares to life
>"Beacon signal strong. Acquiring target."
>make thread for some silly grimdark, and share my own shitty attempts at it
>some anon comes in and just owns this thread with an amazingly written adventure of a lone guardsman hero

mother of god.
File: faceofmercy.png (52 KB, 171x154)
52 KB
>fight Orkz
>shoot them in the face
>win battle get promotion
>some faggot starts talking about how war is hell
>let me tell you son, I flew in a Valkyrie, rode in a Chimera, and shot 20 Orkz and it was fucking awesome
>join the guard faggot
Commissars are Russian. The only thing that makes you think that they look German is the black and skulls (Though most wear red in 40k, as far as I can tell). Russian Commissars usually wore tan or green, and most of their German counterparts (because Germany had penal battalions first) wore green, but a visibly different shade.
he's a bit redundant there isn't he? Hanging out with chaplains from three different chapters, plus the one on the jetbike. If that's not inspiring I don't know what is
>Explosions from the Stompa
>It halts all motion
>As if from instinct the Valkyrie swoops to the large adhoc entrance
>No sooner were you secure on the ship did the Scions push you and the two Meltsvets back out the hatch
>Fast rope as 5
>Hot LZ
>Covering fire as vox transmission comes through
>"Target locked. Firing."
>You glance back over your shoulder
>Three pinpricks of light in the distance
>A literal volley of Deathstrike Missiles
>Tempestus Scions pop into view
>Twenty of them dropped in
>There's seven left
>Two are limping as they retreat
>Warboss stomps into the fray
>Hail of enormous bullets strafe your position
>Cuts down three Scions and both the Meltavets
>Look up
>Basilisk cannons rigged for chest firing
>Overcharge coil
>Blast up a volley of plasma
>Warning beeps
>Chains and melta boils from the plasma
>Coil reaches critical mass
>Throw the gun
>Detonates and sizzles away a hole in the floor
>Metal whining and creaking
>Warboss stops
>Looks up
>Basilisk cannons fall
>Bounce around the walkways
>Crash in front and around him
>[Frustration in Orky]
>Evacuate to the Valkyrie
>Turbo boosting out of the hot zone
>Valkyrie makes it out of range as the Deathstrikes come down
>Blinding flash
>Deaf for life
>Crackles of lightning
>Those were Vortex Deathstrikes
>And now there's small black holes sucking up Orks into the Warp
>vortex deathstirkes
Is.. is that a thing?
I want that to be a thing

I want a recreational deathstrike launcher so when my neighbor violates the NAP I can send him and the rest of the country to the warp with 0% chance of missing
File: 1487123268.jpg (229 KB, 768x1024)
229 KB
229 KB JPG
It most certainly is a thing
>having several Manticores
>they have no AA
>no anti armor weaponry on chaos side
>no one is using the warp

Go figure.
File: Nazi Trenchcoat guy.png (369 KB, 405x799)
369 KB
369 KB PNG
Well, the image is also old as fuck. But it resembles this picture of Erwin Rommel. And I might have just spouted memery from tg.

Can't be inspired enough to defeat the enemies of mankind.
>Commissars are Russian

Russians copied the Prussian styled uniform.

In other news - Armageddon Steel Legion helmet - German WW2 paratrooper helmet.

tl;dr Hugo Boss didn't push the gas button, his cool uniform designs are kosher.
Where is this from?
>Be me
>8th Cadian, serving with the Lord Castellan
>Shooting heretics, situation is bleak but the Emperor is with us
>Their push meets our guns, their foul forms annihilated by heavy weaponry
>start seeing marines in their ranks
>after a few minutes, there's a marine for every fifteen traitors
>a few daemons start appearing
>I think I can see a bloodthirster in there
>still shooting, still swearing like a voidsman
>Suddenly a pylon starts looking strange
>glows green and emits a loud hum
>other pylons start "activating"
>the daemons screech, then disappear
>The traitors start hitting even harder
>Realise left flank is not responding
>Some sort of meteors start falling, can feel an actual earthquake before passing out for some reason
>Wake up in absolute nothingness
I'm alive, I think, but there's absolutely nothing around me. Other than the cogitator I'm using.
What happened?
>go home
>can't get hard with wife
>Navy comes and bombs homeworld back to the Age of Strife
File: Cadia Just as planned.png (1013 KB, 929x527)
1013 KB
1013 KB PNG
The Imperium of Man managed to make this battle even more than just a simple win! Turned out the planet of Cadia was tainted by traitors, and the Emperor never wanted it anyway*! Now that it is destroyed, and the enemies of mankind with it**, the Imperium of Man can dedicate its might to other warzones in the galaxy***, to spread the Light of the Emperor****!

As you can see, all is well, brave soldier!*****

*So the Adeptus Munitorum assured us
**We assume the meek survivors of the Imperial Crusade can't survive the explosion of a planet
***Which may or may not include traitors too
****As a figure of speech, do not actually use your trusted lasgun as a flashlight. If you see one of your fellow soldiers use his lasgun as a flashlight, report him to the next commissar for punishment.
*****Note for generals across the Imperium: Nothing is well. At all******
******If you are not at least of the rank of a general, please report to your local commissar for summarily punishment.
It confuses astropaths with navigators
Well, that sort of shit could happen if one put an astropath instead of a proper navigator.
>be me
>Drafted to serve the Emperor
>Assigned to out of the way comm station
>Perform my duties but board
>Pass the time reading reports from the front
>Be inspired by tales of courage in His name
>Reports abruptly stop
>Fear the worst
>Bump in hope reports may resume Throne willing
>Praise the emperor
>Bring forth the bump
>Wait for updated reports of the unlikely fellow guardsman
>Such an amount of sheer luck smells like heresy
>Contact inquisition through back channel
>Pray it's only the emperor's protecting hand
>be peasant on agriworld
>life's good, spend days tilling the fields and fucking qt farm girls in haystacks
>one day you get a message from the capital on the other side of the planet
>fucking xenos are invading
>half the village gets drafted to aid the defence while you wait for reinforcements
>chicks dig the uniform, notevenmad.dataslate
>thankfully the Guard arrives before your militia gets into any big battles
>you do fight some weird insect xenos
>fast motherfuckers, but there's nowhere to dodge when there's fifty guys shooting at you
>fighting ends before you get a real taste of combat
>apparently some offworld guardsman took a xeno leader hostage and they retreated in exchange for his life
>you almost praise him harder than the Emperor, you're not cut out for soldiering.
>although you return to your peaceful life of farming and fertilizing, you often spare a thought for this unnamed hero who gave you this life instead of bleeding out in a foxhole
>you wonder where he is now
>ip ranges
>fuck 4chan
>What the fuck
>Vortexes moving around
>Why is it chasing you
>Pilot boosts speed
>Still chasing
>Panicked Guardsmen shoot sponson guns at it
>Rape train has no brakes
>Pilot banks
>Vortex keeps crusing on
>Rampaging localized Warp rifts eat up Orks and planetary substances alike
>Eventually wink out of existence
>Sighs of relief
>Right wing hit by rokkits
>Flipping through the air again
>Tail hatch opens
>Scions Grav Chute and jump
>Take a chute off the rack
>Hope for the best
>Can't pilot worth shit, drift into what was once no man's land and now Ork territory
>Land in jungle
>Can't pickup vox
>tfw you scatter 12"
>Commencing virtuous mission
Guardsman, try to remember some of the basics of cqc.
File: this pleases me.png (1.3 MB, 1141x720)
1.3 MB
1.3 MB PNG
File: IMG_4394.jpg (137 KB, 760x701)
137 KB
137 KB JPG
File: IMG_4395.jpg (121 KB, 760x638)
121 KB
121 KB JPG
File: IMG_4396.jpg (155 KB, 760x758)
155 KB
155 KB JPG
> Deployed to agri-world that's developed a Slaaneshi cult
> They're freakishly good shots, their melee troops just dance through us, and we can't use artillery because the soil is too precious to risk
> Sarge has a brainwave, quits attacking and orders us to dig in and make ourselves comfortable.
> 2 days later
> Cultists could fight like bastards but they couldn't handle boredom. 2 days without a battle and they lost patience and started squicking each other
> We wander over at leisure and plant the flag. Casualties: 0.0
> Sarge is tried and executed for delaying an attack
>You can't even imagine how far you might be
>You rely on your instincts and favor heading east
>You stick to cover as best as you can
>You're no Catachan but it's not a tall order to keep yourself in a bush or something
>Something manages to startle you
>A tight snag on your leg
>You've seen enough holovids to drop prone
>A log swings down
>Orks set traps
>The fuck kind of Ork sets a trap
>Rustling noises
>Shapes moving
>"I fink one a them 'umies landed o'er 'ere."
>Can't see the Orks
>What the fuck kind of Ork is stealthy
>This shit isn't real
>You roll to the side and under cover
>A huge foot crunches a branch not far from you
>An Ork with goggles and purple face paint
>Ropes and stikkbombs
>Some barbaric hodge podge of flak or carapace armor
>Holy Terra, THAT is a knoif
>The Ork snarls and sniffs the air
>"'umies been though 'ere."
>"Course 'e wuz. Traps off ya grot."
>"Quiet ya gitz! Find 'im n kill 'im!"
>You recall hearing about Ork Kommandos at one point
>But that was grox shit wasn't it?
>They're real
>And now they're hunting you
It is possible for ships to be lost in the warp for hundreds of years though
>Sarge is executed for tactical genius
Please. They didn't even kill off Creed.
Ha haa, dumb 'umie dun kno. The purple makez ya stelfy.
>You wait for the footsteps to pass
>You make your move and keep low
>Crawling on your belly you carefully avoid more tripwires thanks to seeing them before you reach them
>You grab a rock
>Throw it at a nearby tree
>Ork Kommando is near
>Hear him approach
>See him
>Take a pot shot at him and dive
>"Youz a dead 'un, 'umie!"
>Trudges toward you with his shoota
>Big ass shells tear up the foliage
>Ork stops
>Wooshing noise
>"...Cleva git."
>Ork tripped the wire
>Log smashes into his chest and sends him flying into a tree
>Approach slowly
>Still alive
>Spits a mouf fulla teef out
>Reaches up with his big hand
>"Got sumfink for ya... Cleva 'umie..."
>Reach out
>Hand opens
>Bunch of odd rings of metal
>Ork laughs as a bunch of stikkbombs blow up the tree and leave a small crater where he was
>What's today's forecast, Ollie?
>A falling limb from the tree lands on you and pins you down
>You hear the footsteps of the other Kommandos nearing the blast site
>Panic finally sets in and you struggle that much harder to free yourself
>You hear the footsteps stop right behind you
>"Oi, 'umie. Iz gotta joke for ya."
"...What is it."
>The Ork bashes you in the face with the back of his shoota
>Fade to black
>"Dat ain' how one-a dem 'umie jokes go."
>"Wot, now yer an expert on 'umie kulture?"
>The Kommandos carry the unconscious guardsman through the jungle
>"I 'eard one say it diffrint s'all. Said 'Knock Knock'. Den ya s'pose ta make em say 'Who dere?"
>"Gork an' Mork, ye talk a lot... Shut up."
>"Jus warren' dat funny."
>"Well 'e killed Scalpkutta so dat makes me da NEW Boss Nob Kommando. And I say dat was funny!"
>"Yer about as funny as one a dem poncy Eldar wot wear dem paint and dresses."
>[Ork Kommando Snarling Noises]
>The figurative dickwaving continued for a while until they reached the odd encampment
>These Orks weren't part of Granddakka or Bigdakka's warband
>The flag was flying high of Gork and Mork
>And a black flag with an Orky Jolly Roger
>This was a kind of smuggling camp for a bunch of Freebootas
>With a new prisoner to toss into the mines
>Or Squig pens
>Or any other unsavory jobs
>These Kommandos dragged the guardsman to what looked like a bigger shanty structure
>"Wot da zog ya bringin' me a 'umie fer?"
>This Ork was nearly 8 feet tall
>He was clad in a tattered black coat with a commandeered Commissar hat
>There was a number of shiny officer sabers fastened together on his wrist with a big bundle of wires running to a backpack
>Trophy lightning claw
>A giant blunderbuss was laid across the table
>It was more like a shotgun made of shootas
>"Dis one's smarter den most them uva 'umies. Got Scalpkutta out in the jungle."
>"So why ya bring 'im 'ere? Toss 'im wit the others ya grots. Gork an' Mork, ya both a couple a snotbrains you is."
>"'e might be one-a dem ones wot blew up Granddakka's Stompa."
>The Boss paused
>"Oh. You sure? Looks small ta me."
>"S'wot we thought but he showed up afta the 'ole thing went kaboom."
>"Maybe 'es useful then. Wake 'im up."
>The Boss covered his face with his palm
File: Ork Mug 2.png (172 KB, 509x435)
172 KB
172 KB PNG
>>There was a number of shiny officer sabers fastened together on his wrist with a big bundle of wires running to a backpack
>>Trophy lightning claw
Don't quit now, this is getting to the good part!
it's late anon, he probs went to bed.

Bump anyway just to keep it here for now, but best leave the thread be
Bum bum buuuuuuuuump
>be administration
>supply billions of planets and thousands of campaigns
>failed to supply three thousand planets in a day
>seven thousand battles won in a day and two thousand lost

Praise the God Emperor!
File: ogryn.png (332 KB, 475x289)
332 KB
332 KB PNG

>Herman Q. Luss
Kek. Got a Ratling one?
Don't die on me thread, we need to see the end of this legend
Bump for glory!
>You wake up dripping with some foul grog
>Some big ass Ork lifting you by your flak armor
>Doesn't look happy
>Probably cause he splashed you with his drink to wake you
>"You wuz one-a dem wot blew up Granddakka's Stompa?"
>He gives you a shake
"Maybe I was the only one. Just me."
>The Warboss laughs
>"Thas'a good one but you ain't lookin' like much, mefinks. But ye did get Scalpkutta. Not easy gettin' that slippery one that 'e wuz."
>He drops you to the ground
>"'eres wot yer gonna do."
>He takes a sword in his huge hand like a dagger and drives it into the table
>"We jus some 'umble Freebootaz n' we ain' want nuffink wit yer Guard comin' roun and muckin' up our loot. But ye blew up dat Stompa. And we's gonna loot it."
"Loot what?"
"It's not there."
>"Wot ya mean it's 'not there'? 'ow in Gork can it not 'ave any loot!"
"They launched Vortex Missiles. Whatever didn't get blown up got sucked into the Warp."
>"U WOT M8"
>The Warboss smashed his hand into the table
>He whips the empty mug at a wall, shattering it into fragments
>The Kommandos have vanished, seemingly anticipating some outburst from the Warboss
"...Some tanks and stuff we abandoned when it got too cumbersome
>He calms down for a moment
>"Keep goin' 'umie."
"They're miles away from any other conflict."
>"Uh huh."
"And they're all intact artillery batteries."
>You neglect to mention the whole sabotaged artillery thing.
>"BAH. We don' need to arty bombs. We want good loot! Stuff wot we can get teef an flashy bits fer."
"...You're telling me you can't trade tanks to other Orks?"
>"You gits don' build tanks big enuf fer Orks. Too 'eavy to get 'em to tha ship."
"You have a ship?"
>The Cap'n points at a crudely drawn picture of a giant pirate ship on antiquity
>Only Orky
>And in space
>"Now yer a Prisoner of WAAAGH!"
>"S'wot I said. WAAAGH!"
"Prisoner of War."
>The two of you shout like idiots.
>Outside, some boys overhear the Kommandos talking about the guardsman they captured
>"Wot's 'e good fer?"
>"Absolutely nuffink."
>"So if ya don't wanna die, ye gonna pull yer weight. Else we krump ya or toss ya in the mines."
>For now you're tossed to the loading crews
>Something called a Tellyporta and you're beaming supplies up to the Orky Pirate Ship™
>Lots of captured munitions
>Lots of foodstuffs
>Mostly grog
>Okay, is ALL grog
>You quietly wonder if the Guard is trying to find you
>;_;7 Those brave souls are with the Emprah now

In an odd twist of fate I do have my PC to write but with no food in the house I gotta walk to get something to eat. god fucking damn retarded stepdad took my car keys for no fucking reason so im stranded. two mile walk into town.
godspeed on your quest, anon
Rolled 1 (1d6)

Bumping for our hero
Has any guardsman ever canonically managed to do this?
You jinxed it you fool!
It's the uplifting primer.
It's canonically bunk.
Isn't this kind of advice just going to DIRECTLY get a guardsman killed though?
Is the primer written by a traitor or something?
>that moment when you realize Guardsmen are I3 and Orks are I2
>Guardsmen will shit on Orks on a charge
Such Glory!
This thread can not due!
The Emperor commands us!

I bet he's jacking off
I hope someone is saving all of this
That's why Orks(and ork hunters) had the Waaagh rule in the good old times. Gave them a very decent chance of doubling ther ini on charge.
Neger bitte.
If anything:
>Sarge is now captain.
I love that song write anon.
Don't die on me thread!
Thread theme.
wrong thread
Here's one from my time back on Armageddon defending infernus, my home hive.
>Be me
>Just promoted to sergeant (last one got his lungs ripped out by a pissed of nob)
>Resting in our part of the trench
>'Bout to have some rations
>Suddenly out of throne-damn nowhere an ork falls through the celling
>Grab nearest object
>Its my spork
>Jam it into the fuckers eye
>5 minutes of the most autistic fight my squad has ever seen
>Finally kill the Thing
>mfw I go back to eating, spork still covered in ork blood.
>Loading shit on a warp pad is boring and backbreaking
>Orks know nothing about proper inventory management
>Everything gets loaded in big crates or barrels without any rhyme or reason
>Get beamed up to the Orky Pirate Ship™
>Oh for fucks sake
>It's like one of those Hoarders holovids
>Only /k/ flavored
>Shout at Big Mek
"Ever try organizing?"
>"Organ-wot? Do I look like a Dok?"
"Organizing. Getting in order."
>"Das a waste o' my time. Wot ya need order fer when yer got dakka to haul?"
"What if you could... Haul your dakka... Twice as fast?"
>"Twice as fast? Wot, like, paint me tellyporta red?"
>You rub your brow in frustration
"You organize. Get all the same guns and bullets in the same boxes."
>"How'zat s'posed ta help?"
"You get everything in order so you can give your... Boys... What they need all at once and don't waste time."
>"Da Boys nevah waste time! They know the Cap'n 'll krump em if they do!"
"Look. See this crate?"
>You point to a fresh box you just hauled up."
"There's a meltagun and a plasma gun in there. How fast can you find it?"
>The Mek scoffs at you and flexes his power klaw
>He peels the box open like a sardine can
>Pokes around as more and more guns and ammo spill out
>Finds the two weapons eventually
>"Ha! Quick as nuffink."
>You point over at another box
>Using your well trained skills as a Guardsmen and having the drilled techniques of keeping your kit in order, you pull the box apart
>You organize in record time three shotguns, a number of shootas, some burnas, and various other Ork and looted weapons
"Order me to get a gun. I'll beat you."
>"Ain' no way you can beat an Ork at being quick to 'is dakka! Get a big shoota!"
>You grab one of the hefty rifles out of the box with no effort and a few odd box magazines
>They're not really magazines, just more like paintball hoppers or something
>And some of the bullets are backwards
>Must be something from H&K
>"Wot. How'd you-"
"Pick another."
File: brontian long knife.jpg (23 KB, 250x564)
23 KB
>deployed on some savana-ish planet to defend a small outpost against tau until reinforcements arrived
>get overwhelmed, only a few of us remaining
>can't hear commissar yelling "not one step back"
>become suspicious of that
>look back to see what's happening
>commissar gets killed
>probably by a sniper
>"ahh screw it, i'll just keep on shooting"
>then, realized that i'm the ONLY one shooting
>i'm the only one alive
>tau soldiers end up mocking me
>fix bayonet
>this is it, time to this "warrior's death" thing
>before i begin to charge, one tau got skewered by a bigass knife out of nowhere
>suddenly, a large group of err, guardsmen i guess since they have the symbol of the Imperial Aquila charged at them in close combat with a shitload of swords and knives
>tau army dead during that surprise ambush
>after that, they say that they ARE the reinforcements
>The Mek scratches his head and stares
>"Das roit quick dat is."
"And if you load them properly, you can carry them better and load them quicker."
>"Yous a smart 'umie. But we gonna paint dem boxes and me tellyporta red, too."
"Cause red ones go faster?"
>"Now ya learnin' ta think like an Ork!"
>The Mek calls out some orders to grots and boys
>Questioning looks as he points to you and says you're in charge of inventory
>Start organizing loading bay
>Grots start painting everything red
>Get warped back to the base with the Mek
>Mek talks to the Cap'n about your exceptional skills at inventory management puzzles and stock taking skills
>You are now organizing logistics for an Orky Pirate Ship™
>You hope this doesn't count as heresy or treason
>Your efforts increase efficiency tenfold as the Orky Pirate Ship™ loads up for it's first run since planetfall
>You're taken to the bridge to watch along side the Cap'n as you drop into the Warp for a jump
>Being on an Ork vessel in the Warp is ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING
>Mostly because shit is breaking off
>And there's not really a gellar field
>Daemons pop up EVERYWHERE
>The Orks like a good scrap, though, and in between your own close scrapes with Bloodlettters and Daemonettes you make it through
>Orks are impressed at your ability to hit fight Daemons in close combat
>You're even given a big ol' Orky knoif (read: Claymore)
>The drop out of the Warp puts you on an intercept course with-
>Hey wait are those the same Tau ships you saw-
File: what penguin.jpg (31 KB, 356x346)
31 KB
File: Scared Joltik.png (509 KB, 800x689)
509 KB
509 KB PNG
>Guardsman turns freebooterz into pseudo blood axes (sort of)
Lots of freebootas actually are bloodaxes, or axey.
File: my mugshot.jpg (5 KB, 127x127)
5 KB

Harsh. Let me tell you, one time on this Grava-something planet, I had a tau chick creepy-into me. Delicate balance, one wrong move could spark a full-on war over a shithole nobody cares about. Stalked me whenever I was on duty. Naturally I post here, asking for advice. Had this one 'navigator' suggesting I rape and murder her... Of course.
>listening to filthy mutants in the first place
Like so many things the primer was either written by committee without thought for how it should work in practice, or by an inbred "tactical genius" born to military prestige without so much as a drop of intelligence. Typical grimdark stuff
Never said I actually did it. Was eloquent as frak though...
Only if the Navigator massively fails his Navigate (Warp) checks, and I think even then time dilation is a randomly rolled result, not guaranteed.
The fluff mentions that many traitors and rebels don't realize that they are fighting for Chaos, they think they're just fighting for the imperium as usual. In this case the dude is isolated and doesn't even understand what happened to him.
That's not even mentioning the "gotcha! we switched to chaos months ago!" shenanigans since it's clearly not a subterfuge here.
Actually its different.

The Primer ISN'T unintentionally written, its primary goal is to be propaganda to get recruits into the guard with the assurance its a rewarding and easy job.

Its expected that recruits will be quickly corrected by the senior guardsmen they join and the ones who scatter or panic... wheat from the chaff.

The administratum works really hard to make day to day life bearable for most of the imperium and that requires people think they arent on the brink of oblivion each day.
Also chaos is gradual, for most of it the guy just descind to nurgle and is gifted, only to fully dedicate himself when he shoots the commissar.
Nigger, it's been over 24 hours without an update. I hope you're satisfied with leaving us hanging.
>Wed 10:24pm
>Thurs 2:43am
Nigger he's probably asleep

And learn to tell time
>finds xeno, what do?
>needs filthy mutant for advise
I blame alcohol.

This is why you shouldn't post while drunk kids.
I-i am confused about our recent actions, brother. I know the purging of those who left our most holy God-Emperors light has the utmost priority, but I do not trust these pointy-eared abominations. Their betrayal is inevitable, we should destroy them now, while they are unprepared! The Emperors finest don't need the help of xenos!
What you do is report to the comissar for being such a pussy you couldnt do it yourself.
Wait the necrons used to be able to turn humans into them?
When did they retcon this?
Yes, not sure when.
I love Ogryn. On the tabletop I frequently bring Bullgryn, but I really wish they had some access to AP2 or 3. AP4 S7 power weapons are nice and all, but it doesn't pierce the armor of anything worthwhile and anything that has a 4+ save will already get smashed by S5 AP-
File: 1441898580373.png (32 KB, 1162x850)
32 KB
Dude I gave it some thought then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The primer wasn't made from someone tactically inept, or for propaganda purposes. It was originally made with a straight face face by one of the Imperiums most decorated Hero, Sly Marbo. Now it makes perfect sense, who better to write a guide to the Infantry than the Imperiums best Infantrymen. So when the Primer says that Genestealers are slow with dull claws, or that a raging orkboy can be disarmed with a simple wrist grab, its because to Marbo genestealers are slow, and he can disarm a ork boy with a simple wrist grab.
If it was written by Marbo it would have said thet all you need to defeat an ork is look them in the eye and they'll run away
How good are Ratlings? They useless?
One day a Commisar discovers that honey is better than vinegar to incentivize his troops and shares this astounding knowledge to other fellow commisars
What would happen? He gets blammed?
>>been in the guard long enough to reach retirement
do you think guardsmen get to retire?
Yeah, though retirement is usually getting assigned to a PDF in a backwater location that will be annihilated by Dark Eldar ten years later.
Yeah, once the regiment serves long enough they'll be sent to cleanse some agriworld. Anybody left at the end will be given a plot of land and first pick of a wife among the colonists.
File: 1485411795998.jpg (31 KB, 630x420)
31 KB
One o' you gitz better be screencapping this
I'm on it once he says he's done/we go two days without an update
You don't seem to understand the role of a commissar on the battlefield, recruit.
We do not randomly shoot our own men, nor do we do it for petty reasons. We also don't do it to instill fear into the hearts of young guardsmen. His holy Bolter rounds are reserved for traitors, the worst of the worst scum you will ever see.
A commissars duty is to lead by example, to fill the hearts of the men under his command with loyalty and bravery and to punish those who seek to betray the Imperium of Man. Wasting the lives of loyal servants of the Emperor would be at least a grave offense to Him, and at worst outright hertical.
Any commissar guilty of such offenses and crimes against His will would be executed by his commanding superior, if found guilty.

In short, a loyal servant needs not to fear his commissar. But xeno, mutant and heretic beware!
What's with faggots thinking I took his advice?
But I'm scared, sir!
I've been trying to bump the thread from my phone for a few days, Maybe PC works? If so, Why are phoneposters blocked?
Fear is a good thing, recruit. It keeps you on your toes, keeps your senses and instincts sharp. Embrace the fear, but don't let it rule you. You are out there in the front with your men. You are supposed to command the respect of your men. Feel afraid,but do not let the men know you are afraid. Once they see your fear they wont follow you. They will flee like the gutless cowards we all are. Do you understand, recruit? You must make the fear a part of what makes you a leader. A fearless leader will run into the fray, and die. When you die, the guard snaps. So you need to live and lead.
The Truly Immovable Rod strikes again!
I actually think they are pretty underrated. Snipers aren't considered that good right now, but I think they are pretty nice at scoring wounds on MCs which are super common. Ratlings also have their own rule where they can shoot and then run. That's also an order commanders can give, but this way you don't have to waste an order. Also they have +1 to their cover and the model is small so they are hard to hit and see.

A little squad of 5-6 are a great harassment unit and will be easily forgotten.
pretty sure that's torture device, on deviantart

The guy used to be a full blown nazi, but apparently grew up and took down all his nazi art. Pretty interesting type
Bumping for writefag
>Like a dutiful soldier not interested in heretical thoughts of slamming your nurse into the gurney, you give her a proper Aquila salute.

I kekked
File: Sketch 5 (2).png (587 KB, 744x875)
587 KB
587 KB PNG
>fresh from the cloning cuves on Krieg
>eager to finally prove my worth as a servant of the Imperium
>step on a mine
>my body joins my other fallen brothers in a giant pile serving to climb up the wall of the ennemy fortress
>still lose the battle and get eaten by mutated rats
>be in 40k

>As the Orks try to locate whatever it was they struck so they can loot it
>You look at the Tau ships on the screen
>Though, it's not really a screen, more like a fuzzy blur with pictures
>Back in 987M02 they were called 'CRT" units
>It hurts your eyes looking at it
>But you can recognize blurry colors of the Tau ships that you had engaged previously
>Suddenly, and idea
"Captain, I know those Tau."
>"Wot, you got all kissy face wot with them fish face blue gits?"
"Not exactly. But I did meet them. And fight them."
>"Wot yer wantin' then? Make it snappy, we gonna launch da missile pods n' board the ship ta loot it!"
"Do you have a... Do your Kommandos have 'sneaky' ships?"
>"Dem purple wunz in da hanga is roit sneaky."
"How is purple sneaky?"
>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke.
"What if you could get even more loot from the Tau?"
>"I'm lis'nin."
"Try and pretend to be friendly."
"...While some Kommandos sneak on and take over the ship?"
>"And wot about me Boys? Dey needs dem a good scrap."
"You can scrap with the Tau after you steal all their junk. Then you can make em fight like... Orks."
>"But theyz ain't Orky. Dey just gonna get krumped!"
"They're gonna get krumped anyway, aren't they? You gonna get a lot more loot if you use some strategy."
>You quietly muse on why you're offering tactical advice to your captors
>Maybe theres some appeal to being a space pirate
>Or maybe you're just secretly plotting a grand betrayal and escape
>Maybe theres some appeal to being a space pirate
>Or maybe you're just secretly plotting a grand betrayal and escape

Seems like falling to Tzeentch is inevitable
>Implying this doesnt end with Ork Caesar.
File: 1473026583601.jpg (67 KB, 540x509)
67 KB

>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke
Gotta be 18 to post here, kiddo.
I love you.
>ya even seen a purple ork?
>der ya go.
>"Dem purple wunz in da hanga is roit sneaky."
"How is purple sneaky?"
>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke.

holy fuck anon, you're a goddamn treasure.
Careful there. You're getting close to Tzeentch levels of planning.
File: HcT37.png (84 KB, 1920x1080)
84 KB
Jesus. Was 4E really that long ago?

Uhh...what edition is 40k in now?
File: 1486056596937m.jpg (56 KB, 476x1024)
56 KB
>"Dem purple wunz in da hanga is roit sneaky."
"How is purple sneaky?"
>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke.
7th edition currently, with 8th edition looming on the horizon.
Jesus. I've been gone a while but didn't know I've been gone that long. Looks like I'll be busy going through the lexicanum and the pdfs for a while
File: lol_idi_amin.gif (3.51 MB, 298x224)
3.51 MB
3.51 MB GIF
>Must be something from H&K
Kek <----
File: QcdL0j6.png (851 KB, 1024x1339)
851 KB
851 KB PNG
>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke

Is it not the Emperor's will that Mankind's dominance be spread across the stars? What better way to show dominance over the foul Xenos than force them to submit to Mankind in the deepest possible way? It is Emperor's will, His will be done.
A better way is to KILL THEM ALL.
man can't spread everywhere if they take up space too.
File: 1487899113055.jpg (61 KB, 1000x800)
61 KB
Somebody please right an ogryn story thanks
>be Uk
>Uk is ogryn
>Uk serves the Empror
>Uk smart
>Uk knows which can is food and which is ammo
>Komsar said Uk that if Uk holds the line alone today he will get a medal (not food?) and more rations (food!)
>Uk can't wait for bugs to come
File: Checking.jpg (137 KB, 500x661)
137 KB
137 KB JPG
Orky pokemon when?
Methinks a second thread will be needed soon.
"How is purple sneaky?"
>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>"Der ya go."
>You suffer a minor stroke.
are you insinuating that ammo is not food?
File: black table.jpg (118 KB, 800x600)
118 KB
118 KB JPG
I don't seez nuffin but stands, bozz.
File: 1457510729119.jpg (658 KB, 1560x1059)
658 KB
658 KB JPG
>"How is purple sneaky?"
>>"Ya even seen a purple Ork?"
>>"Der ya go."
>>You suffer a minor stroke.
Bump for the emperor
Why are dere gubbinz layin' 'round ya git?
damn, would have loved to see that art. it probably looked kool as fuck
Oh. You again. You sure can make heresy seem appealing.
I have arrived, and it is now that I perform my charge. In fealty to the God-Emperor (our undying lord) and by the grace of the Golden Throne, I declare Exterminatus upon this Imperial thread. I hereby sign the death warrant of an entire thread, and consign 173 posters to oblivion. May Imperial Justice account in all balance.

The Emperor Protects.
Leave us alone Gue'la I wish to hear the story's of potential Gue'Vesa.
Doesnt it still have like, ten posts?
not anymore..., should we start a new thread so writefriend has a place to come back to?
Only do it if you have other content to back it up. Otherwise you'll get the same shit the Love and krieg thread gets.
Panzer mich auf, schätzchen!
>as you know, 4chan is shit for blocking most phone IPs

>Your advice has lead the Captain to launch some small vessels with Kommandos loaded up
>Another shuttle, big and Orky, launches alone toward the Tau ship
>Something about transmissions
>Tau are actually accepting this ploy
>You question how advanced they really are
>"Da boyz is landin' on the blueie's ship, boss."
>This is actually fucking working
New thread
This thread is everything I want and more.

Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.