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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>Be me, Guardsman James
>Serving in the 37th on a farm world, currently sitting alone in the barracks
>I'm so tired of corpse-starch, I've bought two "sweets bar" for five months of salary
>One would think a planet who only export this would sell them cheap
>Luckily for me I took most of the Thrones from some poor lads who've been sent to the hospital ward
>Before I had time to eat the Commissar enters the room with a jovial look on his face
>He reaches for something inside his coat
>He hands me a pamphlet
>He then leaves the room whistling
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>Still me, Guardsman James
>I have no idea what happened
>Decide to check what the commish just gave me
>TFW when the pamphlet looks like pic related
oh oh
huh, let's see where the story goes from here
For free? Surely the Emperor is blessing this day
>Still me, Guardsman James
>Got no clue what CHAOS is
>Is it a trick of the commish? He usually likes order and laws
>Look outside the barracks to see what the other guys think of this
>Some are reading with interest
>Others found other uses for those sheets of paper
>Decided to look at the content, if the commish gave it, it can't be that bad, right?
>Inside there is four pictures of people, nicely drawn. They look like those the Ecclesiarch carries.
>One is a chubby angel with green butterfly wings, he looks happy and caring.
>One is a regular angel with a blue book. He looks smug.
>One is a red angel with more knives than one would consider useful... they're all bloody too.
>Last one is a man... or a woman? I don't know but it looks beautiful... being carried by other people.
>There are multiple questions, asking about our preferences, what type of people we like, what colors suits us best and other stuffs.
>Reminds me of those Sororitas Monthly magazines Brian is always carrying.
i dont like where this is going
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Keep up the good work, writer
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>Be me
>Guardsman Brian
>Just got my new Sororitas poster
>Got myself my own private area in the barracks to hang it
>Commissar walk inside
>He looks like a happy fuck
>Is he gonna tear up my poster?
>I swear last time the sororitas was just showing her ankles!
>He hands me a pamphlet and then leaves
>WTF just happened?
Uh oh
Damn sometimes I wish I had one of those comically large knives this red angel uses, this fucking lasgun is always breaking on me.
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>Be me, Nice Commissar Trent
>Nicest commissar around
>Really, I am
>I don't shoot my men when they want to retreat from feral orks
>I just give them a seat on my catapult so they can go to the frontline faster
>I'm just a swell guy
>I've been having trouble sleeping lately
>Friends at the Ecclesiarch have been giving me pills for that
>I like the pills, I'm actually having fun shooting orks!
>Makes me sad when some of my men want to desert though
>Instead of executing one I decided to give him a sickass tattoo and send him back on the front!
>Now we're twinsies!
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>Chose to not to read the pamphlet
>Got better things to do
>Open my special crate containing my treasures
>Inside there's dozens of posters of Sororitas
>They're all from Sororitas Montly, my prized collection
>I'd have them all if the fucking commissar didn't tear up my last one
>My biggest treasure is the one with a kiss mark from a Cannonness
>I've heard she's from the Order of the Blue Robe
>James said it sounds made up, and the kiss mark is probably from a greasy rogue trader with lipstick
>I choose to to believe otherwise
>Fortunately the commish haven't found that one yet, but I still fear for it
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>Still me, Guardsman James
>Getting hungry now
>Decide to take a bite out of one of my two sweets bars
>If I read this pamphlet right, it's asking us who out of those four beings would we choose as protectors.
>Ain't the God-Emperor as an answer. Perhaps those are his angels? I,ve heard he has like thousands of them, with like a dozen or so bigger and stronger angels.
>If it's that it's missing a few, that's for sure. I guess it's a popularity contest Like Kayla from the other regiment.
>Let's look at the first question...
>If you were to chose one last meal, would it be A) Black Pudding B) Mushrooms C) Chicken D) Passion fruits E) All of those answers ?
>I have no idea what any of those are, I pick D) because it has fruits in it, so it can't be bad, right?
>Few minutes passed by
>I'm at question 12
>Have you ever felt excess of A) intellect B) Rage C) Kindness D) Everything E) Everything, but more ?
>Don't know what to pick
>Was about to choose at random when I hear tumult outside the barracks
>My fellow guardsmen were shouting at each other, claiming their protector was the best.
>Those who chose the red angels were already throwing hands at each other
>What am I suppose to do now?
Gardsman, run, ruuuuun
>Still me, Guardsman James
>My brothers-in-arms are getting feisty over some angels nonsense
>The red partisans have fetched their bayonnets and are yelling about blood
>Meanwhile the blue followers are heading straight for the comm tower... and the green ones to the latrines? With explosive charges?
>There's also those weirdos who just took off their clothes. Reminder that none of them has showered in weeks.
> Gettingsick.png
>Well at least I'm not alone thinking straight, some guardsmen are trying to cease the hostili-...
>One of them is gurgling blood!
>Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Where's the damn commish?
>Fuck this shit, I'm running to the nearest vehicle!
>I'm not the only one thinking that. Brian and 5 other dudes are also going for the jeep.
>We just started the car when we heard maniacal laughs behind us.
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>Be me
>Named Dave
>Was cleaning my lasgun with the boys when the happy commish came to us
>He handed us those pamphlets and said something about great rewards to the faithful
>Did the stupid thing
>Shared results my friends
>Some got the Angel of Nature, they seem happy about it. Steve got the angel of Happiness... I hate that guy, he's a weird fuck.
>Most got the Architect. When I told them I was the only one who got the Angel of Victory they just laughed at me
>Said a meathead like me was obviously going for that
>I shot them with my lasgun
>The whole camp went uproar
>Most were picking factions
>Those who were with me chase the normies
>Some of my fellow brothers seem to follow my commands
>Laugh out loud as I become the new leader
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>Be me, Dave again
>I'm taking over the camp
>Most of the Red followers decided to join my faction
>Had to break some of they firt though
>No matter, their skulls will please the Angel!
>In His glory we named ourselves after our protector, the Victorious!
>Those under the protection of the Angel of Nature just took everyone's shit (litterally) and went their own way... they also took all of the explosives.
>The blue nerds locked themselves in the comms tower. We're hearing chating in there. Ain't no great victories against pansies so we leave them alone.
>The weirdos took some trucks and went into the nearest towns and villages.
>Fuck... we got no vehicles.
>Fuck it, we got feet and we're better than the weirdos. We don,t need vehicles!
>Decided we need more firepower
>Nab a few of the servitors and duct taped some weapons unto them
>Now we just need to find a coghead so he can give them sentience and make them celebrate with us our new protector!
>Commissar Trent here
>I am in a good mood today!
>My friends at the Ecclesiarch told me to deliver those pamphlets to my troops, they said it's to make their job easier to educate the mass!
>I have to say, it's a good idea!
>They even gave me more happy pills today!
>The said I did my duty so great today, that I earned it!
>I decided to go to sleep earlier today after distributing the papers
>First time in a while I don't have nightmare
>I slept like a newborn
>When the morning came I made myself soem recaf and prepared for the busy day I had ahead
>I heard screaming in the distance
>There was also this horrible smell, as if something was burn to the 28th degree
>Without taking any chances I took a happy pill right away
>Everything felt better already
>Went outside, the sun was warm and the weater was perfect. The wind only made my hat fly 3 meters this day. I'm lucky to have been assigned to Archipelagia, planet of tropical islands and hurricanes.
>Dave and his fellow comrades were grilling shrimps and other guardsmen
>Personally it's a little too early for that, but hey, ain't anything wrong with it!
>They all froze in place when they see me
>Dave mumbles something about Angels, cowards and deserters
>This saddened me a bit, but I had a solution!
>I ordered Dave to form parties and gather their lost friends, we'll fight orks today and have a good laugh about it!
>They all seem to cheer up! One of them even hands me a skull-shaped cup with red liquid!
>Considering I haven't finished my recaf yet, I politely refused and sent the boys on their way. I hope we'll all have fun today!

I'll take a pause for now. If other people want to join in meanwhile, they're welcome! If it's okay with the board, of course!
>were grilling shrimps and other guardsmen
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>Be Guardswoman Trish
>Everyone is getting worked up about these pamphlets the Commissar was handing out
>Apparently they are from the Ecclesiarchy and they match you up with a Saint based on how you answer the questions
>Why not, it is not like I have anything better to do...
>Some of the questions are a bit weird or creepy:
>Would you rather: A) check you face in a mirror all day, B) saw off an ork’s head with your bayonet, C) be immune to pain, D) learn the secrets of the universe – A) I guess, that seems pretty harmless, and I do like mirrors
>Do you see yourself as: A) Charismatic, B) Bloodthirsty, C) Intelligent, D) Cowardly – Probably D) to be honest, but maybe this is some sort of secret officer proficiency test, so A)
>Would you rather: A) kill someone, B) read minds, C) be immortal, D) have sex – B) and C) will probably get me shot if the Commissar ever reads this, A) will probably get me signed up for another trip to the front lines, lets go with D), technically against the rules, but everyone does it, should be worth a few laughs with my squad mates when we compare answers if nothing else...
>Get Angel of Happiness
>Okay, whatever
>She looks pretty hot, you would think a Saint would wear some sort of top though, maybe it is just artist interpretation
>One of the sergeants is a bit drunk and says everyone should group together by what Saint they got
>Head over to hang out with my fellow Angels of Happiness
>Two horny incels, that fat fuck, the chronic masturbater, three peeping toms, five attention whores, the uphive bitch with fake tits, the bodybuilder, that guy who wears eyeliner and hair highlights, four sadistic edgelords, the masochist, the drug dealer, and fucking Steve, creepiest douche in the regiment....
>Could be worse though, Angels of Victory are mostly meatheads, bullies, and guys with anger management issues
>Angels of Nature got a couple of cowardly betas
>And a bunch of the cogboys, clerks, pretentious pseuds, and scholam graduates got the Architect
>Come to think of it, there isn’t really that many well adjusted people in our regiment...
>Steve jumps on a table and yells out that all the Angels of Happiness should be skyclad
>WTF does that mean?
>He starts taking of his clothes
>Not going to happen...
Steve has enough of Trish being an uptight bitch and he finally rapes her
>Be me, Brian
>Former guardsman, now still a guardsman but leader of the Victorious
>Commissar gave us a spook by showing his face while we made a barbecue
>He strangely isn't angry? He looks prety calm? I might have judged the man too harshly?
>He tasked us with finding the cowards so we could launch them with the catapults
>We're bringing >>79372370 with us. Most of the nerds are locked in the comm tower, so we could press them to fix him, but where's the fun in that? We'll find ourselves some techies on the mainland! Hopefully we'll catch the traitors at the same time

>All the weirdos and useless fucks are grouped together
>Have fun groping each other with your fat disgusting meat faggots!
>Trish is with them, poor bitch. Well, it ain't my problem.

Thanks for contributing to the thread!
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>Be me, name's Bob the guardsmen
>Been on the front line all fucking day and all fucking night geting shot at by orks.
>I've stoped counting the gretchins I've murdered today, it's like I'm rampaging in a kindergarden
>I think the orks are sparing me on purpose because they think it's funny (it is)
>Find the guy with a vox caster and ask him where the fuck is everyone and why there's more greenskins then humans in our trenches
>He just point his finger at our base where the smell of shit and burned human body seem to come from and say "I think a retard locked himself in the comm tower again, he reasured me it was his plan tho"
>Grab a bottle of amasec with a paper saying "property of commissar douchebag on it"
>Walk pass the rampaging orks back to my bunker and watch heretical Tau cartoons about heroical deserters until I pass out
>last thing I hear before passing out is an ogryn (Maybe an an ork I don't care fuck you) sitting next to me saying "dat pisode's gud" while laughing and clapping like a big ugly kid.
>Be me, nicest Commissar that ever be
>Received word that most of my men are on wild hijinks
>Also the orks have pierced through our lines
>At least it's the mainland orks, not the pirates
>Bad news keep piling on
>I'm too high to care
>Pic related
>be me
>ogryn Lunk
>Boss say fight me fight
>Ripper Gun no fire
>orks still come
>use gun as club
>forget what doing
>try to remember what comes after 2
>get shot in 'ead
It's amazing how much better Cadians look with just a few extra things like scarves, goggles, rolled up sleeves, backpacks, etc than their 20 something year old model counterparts
>Be me
>Guardsman Mark
>Taking a shit on the toilet while pissed as fuck
>No toiletpaper
>Remember I was given a fuckton of pamphlets
>Decide to use them as arsewipe
>Realise I'm left with one
>Decide to give it a shot
>Last meal: C) Chiken
>Realise the other options are retarded
>Realise the pamphlet is retarded
>Decide to make up my own answers instead
>Favourite color?: Black and White
>I wish my father was: There
>Lucky number: 11
>Have fun
>Remember wy I'm so pissed off
>Remember that steve still owes me 100 thrones
>Remember that he used them to order 6 liters of lube and some phalic object some time ago
>Remember that his time to pay it back is up
>Pull up my pants
>Go and find Steve
>Greet Trish on the way
>Procede to beat the everliving shit out of Steve
ha, homo
the arrows make this a pain to translate :(
Mark has been left with the sole untouched latrine, lucky bastard

>Be me , Guardsman James
>Fled with gellow guardsmen... namely Brian the sororitas poster collectionner, Jerry the skiiny jock, Leny the wannabe toaster banger, Emile the young twink of the camp, Colin the big stupid one with a kind heart and Charles the arrogant fuck.
>We took a car but it won't help us for long
>Best plan is to head straight for the docks and hope that we won't get bombarded on the ship
>Best plan is to hide at sea for a few weeks and eventually settle into an island
>Just hoping we don't meet ork freebootas
>I'll finish eating my first bar of chocolate, that will help calm me a bit
>I'm feeling generous too, so I'm sharing it with my comrades
>After all that I could almost take a small nap, hope Lenny don't fuck up while driving
should have caught on to that, I was wondering why the translator was bringing up gibberish
>Be Guardswoman Trish
>Steve is rambling some bullshit about the “perfection of the human form”
>Everyone else on “Team Happy Angel” is either taking off their clothes or standing around confused
>More than a few people in the group reek
>Kind of an “Eau de fermenting sweat, piss, and jizz”
>Seriously people, we do have shower blocks, use them for Emperor's sake
>Or just go stand in the fucking ocean for a bit
>Steve gets agitated about something and makes a beeline for me with his tiny erect scabrous prick flopping about
>Right this shit again, third time this month
>The trick with Steve is you have to hit him in the sack with something you don’t mind throwing in the crematorium later, the man has every genital wart and pubic hair dwelling parasite known to man
>Grab a can of corpse starch off the table next to me
>Naturally it is one of the ones that is leaking and covered in black mould
>Prepare to whip it at Steve’s little Steve, but then Mark shows up and starts beating Steve with a shoe while asking for money
>Decide to slink away before I get hit with a 55w for brawling
>Hope I don’t get a 67k for disrespecting an Imperial Saint
>Two hours later, decide to take a break from moping vomit, blood and diarrhea off the infirmary floor...
>for five months of salary
I don't think Guardsmen get paid. Everything they need is supplied by the Departmento Munitorum and the Imperium doesn't have a single unified currency.
>By this time night has fallen, and things have gotten a bit........odd......
>The camp is thoroughly divided between the followers of the four Saints, with only a few people doing normal duties
>Team Nature Angel are swimming in the latrine trench, scooping whole mouthfuls of filth into their mouths, apparently it boasts their immune system like vaccines or something – I think I will check with the Doctor first
>Team Architect Angel are all in the comm tower doing Emperor knows what
>Team Victory Angel had a big barbecue before being led to the front lines by the Commissar, looks like they were cooking some sort of long pig
>Team Happy Angel seems like the place to be though, shit is almost as crazy as one of those times the Commissar ODed on happy pills and made up a new annual holiday
>We got an orgy tent, a bong tent, an orgy tent with bongs, a rave with glowsticks, and what appears to be an amateur BDSM dungeon-tent
>Not really in the mood for any hardcore action though tonight, particularly if Steve is still around somewhere
>Hook a few glowsticks to my dog tags and belt, draw some vaguely lewd patterns on my shirt with pink lipstick, then go hang out on the edge of the rave and enjoy a few lho sticks and water-y munitorum standard issue beers someone stole from the officer’s mess
>Today has been a strange day...
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Legit question, do Guardsmen get paid?
There is mentions of black markets and gambling in the Guard Codices, Uplifting Primer, and Munitorum Manual, not to mention most novels and RPGs depicting life in the Guard.

I figure most regiments would at minimum give out coupons for good behavior that can be used for smokes, drinks, snacks, etc.
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>Be me
>Guardsman Brian
>Whole camp went to hell
>Nearly didn't have enough time to grab my posters of Sororitas before the red idiots went berserk
>Now I'm on a jeep with a wannabe sergeant James, a nerdy sport enthusiast, techpriest reject, gaylord bottom and I can't believe it's not an orgyn. Also Charles. Why is that pompous prick here? Dude would rahter wash the latrines if it means he doesn't have to stand with any of us.
>Well things could be worse. I still have my treasure, ate some chocolate and we're going on a boat trip.
>With a little luck there won't be any storms for like 2-3 days... knowing our luck I bet it won't go this well.
>Lenny is driving, and by driving I mean he's like an old woman who intends to hit every bump on the way. If we weren't guardsmen we wouldn't be able to sleep
>I wonder if the higher ups are aware of what's happening?
Would make sense that instead of directly paying soldiers, you know what they'd spend it on and how fast, you'd pay their families.
So, having a son who is a guardsman grants your household a hefty stipend and status.
Female space marines are so fucking retarded
wrong thread

>Be me, Brian
>Leader of the Victorious
>We've been running full throttle for a few hours now
>The boys following me are beginning to get angsty
>It's been a few hours those babies haven't got their blood
>They don't have to worry, Brian always deliver!
>Talking of delivery, we found the traitors' cars!
>Looks like they all got the idea of going to the docks
>All but one ship have sailed already, there are still people preparing it.. like some of our cowardly "friends"
>They never stood a chance...
>sadly we didn't get the first runaways.
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>Be me, Guardsman Colin
>Whole platoon keeps calling me an Ogryn, but that's fine
>Just escaped our outpost
>Whole camp went crazy over some pamphlets or something,
> idk details because I was busy drawing
>Be with Brain "it's not porn it's holy relics", James "gtfo" and new maybe boss, two twig boys, a techie, and Charles
>James is nice and shares his treats with the class
>mfw Im allergic
>mfw it makes my face puff up making me look even more like an Ogryn
>mfw Charles keeps loudly commenting on it
That would potentially make sense on some Imperial worlds but not others.

Most Imperial Guard are recruited on an as needed basis.

If the nearest war zone is a sector away, they will only take the best of the best experienced fighters.

But if the important world next door to yours is going through a meat grinder campaign, anything with a pulse is now eligible for conscription.
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>Be me, still Guardsman Colin
>Be dieing from allergic reaction
>Have to strip down so I dont swell out of my armor
>Hear explosions and gunshots in distance
>Thought orks but not near fronts lines
>Not near anything besides docks really
>Jimmies are russled
>Tell group have a bad feeling about the docks
>"We should try our luck elsewhere"
>Dont want to rock the boat (lel) but dont want to die either
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>Be Gronk Bone 'Ead
>Luv me job
>Lotsa' shiny medals on me chestplate
>Filling out this weird paper thing
>Circle every answer as A, because A is first
>Gronk never settles for second place
>Go and stand with them weird nakey little 'uns
>Maybe they a little special?
>Gronk protect them doh, just in case
>Be me, Guardsman James
>Accidently gave a part of chocolate bar with almond nuts to Colin
>I went with the almond when I bough it for extra proteins, should have remembered his condition
>I pray to the God-Emperor for a way to save him
>We were the first arriving on the docks
>Colin is telling us through his inflated mouth that he got a bad feeling about the docks
>Truth be told, I agree with him, but we're on an island with murderous former guardsmen possibly on their way to kill us with extreme prejudice
>And the medical kit we have on the jeep won't be enough to treat Colin. Hopefully there's medecine on the boat
>WIth no time to loose we set sail
>Closely behind us are other deserters, and worse of all we can see on the horizon the Red Angel followers
>Let's just hope we won't sink
He ate one here
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>Be Guardsman James
>Slowing dieing
>After giving warning to buddies feel light headed
>world goes dark
>wake up in new place
>Room covered in patches of color and texture
>parts look like rotting flesh, or bone, or eyes
>Here voice calling from closed door
>listlessly walk toward it
>Open up door and see pic related
>Face melts together
>Cant breath, cant see
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>Be me, the best Commissar in Archipelegia's existence
>The soldiers are having fun!
>Some of them even invited friends over! There are those tiny green things in the... mud? Bathing with some guardsmen.
>The comm tower's roof has imploded, and there's strange lights coming out of it. Always tons of birds, like it's crazy.
>There's also a lot of tents with activities. Too much smoke for me though. I'll head to the dance floor.
>It's inside the barracks where I found James this morning. Man, I miss this guy!
>Everybody's belongings have been toss away everywhere on the flor. What a shame, they'll be sad when they'll have t ofight in dirty clothes against the orks that are coming.
>Wait... what's that on the floor?
>Is it?
>A sweet bar? With almonds?
>Heck yeah, those are my favorites!
>I silently thank the guardsman who lost this treasure and take a bite out of it..
>Crunchier than I expected
>Taste like metal too
>What's this inside the sweet bar?
>pic related
>Be me, Guardsman O'Malley.
>Klepto Drookian on loan after a Munitorum fuck-up.
>Don't even know why I knick stuff, just see a thing and grab it.
>Folks have been especially cunty lately.
>Cept Trish, James, and Colin. They've always been pretty alright.
>Klep one of Brian's laspacks while he's gone barbecuing orks.
>Considering giving it back...
>Nah, Brian's been an asshole all day.
>Brian's lackey tries to dropkick me.
>Catch his ass and atomic brainbuster him.
>"I'm gonna be chainsmoking lho to get past today, aren't I?"
im an actaul retard meant Colin
>Still me, Guardsman James
>Colin went down
>I don't know what to do
>First thing that comes to my mind
>I yell at Charles to do something
>He asks me why is he suppose to do, and why should he obey my orders
>I replied he went to a prestigious school so maybe he knows medecine. If he can't save Colin he'll have to practice it on his own broken legs.
>Seems to have him motivated
>About time to, a storm is slowly forming at the horizon and we'll need all hands on deck for that one.
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>Sit around stoopid rok waiting fer a fouit
>Get bumped intah by some weak-lookin' grot scratcher.
>WAAAAGH and get a good stompin' on the tinny git.
>Start a roight propah brawl in dis boorin' tin can.
>Whenz we'z gonna drop, boss!?
>Be me, Guardsman 1558-17
>sole survivor of my unit
>get stuck riding back with Cadians
>they keep worrying about dumb things not related to battle
>think about my unit
>get overcome with grief that I was not able to die to help cleanse the sins of my homeworld
>and around these fools I'll probably die a worthless death
>and the commissar's weapon is severely underserviced, lowering the combat effectiveness of the unit
>at least there's orkz to fight
It really helps sell the WWII-G.I.-in-space look.
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>Be me
>Gib the Snotling
>Life's pretty alright on the rok
>Grow fungus, eat fungus, drink fungus
>Thinking about finding a nice patch of shade to leave some spores in and settle down
>Get krumped because I bump into someone
>Enjoy life as a macabre wall decoration
>Spores got spread, ain't even mad
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>Guardsman O'Malley again.
>Someone from the comm tower has the good sense to warn us a Rok's coming.
>See some asshat in a tinfoil hat drag him back in.
>Go to the barracks to grab my kit.
>See myself in the mirror.
>I'm not high enough for this shit.pict
>Try to wash off weird spoke tattoo. Nope, somebody fuckin' needled that in.
>It's also on my shotgun leg.
>That leg cost me so many ration coupons, it's not even funny.
>Sigh of infinite suffering, just grab my kit and go.
>Stop by local Guard Rave to tell people.
>Why the fuck are they all naked?
>... Nevermind, don't want to know.
>Tell Trish, apparent only sane person in the disco, what's up.
>Start to head out, realize I klepped one of her glowsticks, hand it back.
>Wonder if I should klep fancy-hat's pills on purpose.
>... Should be fine. Sergeant's still lucid and alive.
>... Right?
>Be me, best and luckiest commissar!
>Just won myself a golden ticket to visit the Planetera Governor's Sweet Bar factories!
>It even says I can bring friends along!
>I walk up to the stage of the dance floor and grab a vox
>People stop dancing
>Now that I think about it, there are more girls than I remember in this regiment
>Some of the have crab claws, freaky
>Nevermind, got something to announce
>Everyone seemed happy to hear that, especially the crab ladies
>The rave becomes more intense, I even get hugged a bit
>Now we just need to use the comms and call ourselves a yatch or soemthing to get there
>It me, Gronk again
>They got out the glowy sticks the Combi-Sarge said I wasn't allowed to eat
>I ate a few, because he isn't around
>See a new friend approach
>He walks sorta funny, and his leg rattles
>I do not like the rattles, and thus, as the sensible lad I am, I consume another glowy stick to calm myself
>Casually approach the guardsman
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>Foightin, krumpin lotz ouv gitz.
>Suddenly some zoggin' blingly blarey thing rings cross da rok.
>Dem sireny things get da boyz looking at 'em, and chargin dat mech shit.
>Den da big speekaz schreech out.
>Zog it, itz da boss!
>Suddenly da 'ole mob gets 'it by some invisible gitz puttin' uz down.
>Suddenly realize we'z gonna drop.
>Be me, O'Malley again.
>Gronk shows up at the rave.
>Ogryn- not too bright. Friendly, just don't let them hug.
>Finish telling Trish shit's about to go down, before talking to Gronk.
>He's kinda loud, takes me a moment to realize he's complaining about the shotgun leg.
>First instinct is to tell him off.
>Realize even a broken chrono is right twice a day, somebody fucked with my leg to put the spoke on it.
>Tell him I'll give my leg a gander, but can't promise anything.
>Give Gronk a wave goodbye, stay firmly out of hugging distance.
>Head back to barracks to break out the maintenance kit and smoke a lho in peace.
>Emperor knows I'll need it.
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Just realise I've use the name Brian on Dave, leader of the victorious

>Be me, Guardsman Brian
>We're at sea
>Kinda beautiful really, same color as my best poster
>Some day I'll see a sister of the Blue Robe order, I just know it
>Colin's dead... or not. Hard to tell, he's so inflated. Charles working on him under James supervision
>Should we call him Sarge now?
>Naw, he's a prick
>A storm's coming though
>Might be a good news, if it's hard for us to navigate, it'll be the same for the red maniacs behind us
>Just hoping we see live another day really
>I'll try to convince James to head for the Sweet Bar Factory
>Heard the Planetary Governor got the supreme limited edition poster from Sororitas Monthly
I suppose he won't miss it

That will be all for me tonight, hope the thread is still there when I wake up
>be me, tank commander Olga
>our leman russ tank engine keeps losing power
>ask a tech priest to look at the problem
>he tells me to "give him some space"
>me and my driver are having a hot one
>rest of the crew go looking for food
>can see our gunner gave a good luck sign to the driver
>driver is trying to make small talk, badly
>he puts his hand on my hand and ask if i needs anything or someone to talk too?
>nope out of their and see if the repairs are done
>hear banging....WTF is making that-BY THE EMPEROR!!!
>see tech priest dry-humping the engine
>he turns to me and makes that machine sound but angry
>turn around back to the driver and ask for another drink
Depends on the Regiment and the society they hail from.

Some get paid normally, some even handsomely, and will retire with a pension.
Other's are born into debt that only grows, as their planet figures they owe it for being housed, fed and educated growing up, and signing up for the Guard is merely working that debt off (as well as the debt for all the equipment, space and fuel used while in the Guard).
this is such a great thread
>Be Bob The guardsman
>Wake up in my bunker with a really bad headache
>Fucking gretchin making noise outside
>Throw my empty bottle hard enough it almost rip the little shit's head off
>Orks start laughing outside and say something about a pit and squigs
>Shugg my cantin of water and go outside
>"What the fuck is the pit and where's my fucking breakfast you green piece of shit!"
>More ork laugh, the biggest one grab me by the throat and drag me to some make shift arena
>Look down in the middle of the arena
>Bunch of gretchins geting brutally gored by squigs
>Ork Throw me like an empty bottle of amasec all the way to the middle of the thing
>Knife and laspistol have sent you a friend request
>Stab'n shoot'n stab'n shoot and bite'n stab'n stab and bite and bite and bite
>Man that gretchin really hit the spot
>3 hours later There's only me left alive in the middle of the pit
>Ork are cheering "Grot killa! Grot Killa! Grot Killa!"
>Sure why not
>I'm guardsman Bob da Grot Killa now
How would a grot tastes?
like fermented meat
Dirty mushrooms
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>guard regiments just chill on worlds (the job of the PDF)
>not being raised and sent right into the shit

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>Be me, Tau commander Shas'O Myor
>Be not me, my entire troops. Most comprising of fish people we recruited months ago
>Been chilling for the Greater Good
>I've been informed that we arrived at a new corner of the galaxy, this one's owned by the Gue'vesa
>I asked what they do so we could find a way to integrate them into the Greater Good
>Second in command answer with "They are exporting chocolate!"
>Collectively the fish people go crazy, their madness spreading like wildfire
>They overtake the ship and are heading straight towards the factories
>All screaming like pic related
>inb4 this becomes Willy Wonka with Orcs finding a Golden ticket as well

Actually, how would a battle in Wonka's work?
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>we need 53102 billion people to feed the peepeepoopoo engine (only 5% success rate)
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>Be Shas'la Hai-ya.
>Life is shit. Ethereal regularly cucks me.
>Forced to smile and let him because pheromones are bullshit.
>Suddenly people start chanting 'chocolate?'
>Takes exactly 1.67 seconds for shit to go sideways in epic fashion.
>Screaming, pulse rifle shots, compelled to protect Ethereal.
>Compulsion cuts off before I can even get out of the harness.
>Fuck that. Get pissed instead. Yank someone's pulse carbine out of their hands, march over to the dead Ethereal.
>Pump his corpse full of plasma 'till I hear the gun beep empty. Start mulching the corpse with the stock.
>When I finally stop and start taking deep breaths, I notice a few Fire Warriors have stopped chanting and are just trying to get away from me.
>Grab my pulse rifle, fight my way over to my girlfriend.
>She's crying.
>Go to comfort her, ship starts rocking. Hug her for entirely different reason.
>Flyboys manage to scream over the din to warn us we took a rocket to the engine.
>Emergency landing time.
>Wake up five minutes later. Girlfriend's got a concussion. Not even a medic, but I can tell that much.
>Life's been shit, my Ethereal's dead, I can finally start trying to kick life in the dick.
>Crazies aren't much help, they're either in a coma or fleeing the ship in chocolate lust.
>Step outside, see Orks coming over to loot the ship.
>Double check my ammo.
>Shas'ui's dead, may as well take the bond knife.
>Crack my neck.
>Swear I heard somebody shout 'kill maim burn' back in the ship.
>Shrug it off.
>Dig in for Alamo 2.0: Tau Boogaloo.
>Be Trish
>Things are starting to get a bit hairy at the camp
>Up to water-y beer number eight, starting to feel a bit blurry
>Went over to the latrine trenches to take care of some business
>Forgot Team Nature Angel lives there now
>Some of them don’t look so healthy, maybe drinking copious amounts of sewage wasn’t such a good idea after all
>Also, some weird little green things are popping up in the latrine trenches where Team Nature Angel are swimming – maybe some sort of grot?
>I think I will just hold it in for now...
>Stumble through the camp for a bit, maybe I can sneak into the officer’s latrine instead, if I could only remember where it is...
>Hear some weird bird noises, look up...
>The cogboys and other Team Architect Angel types have been making some weird modifications to the comm tower, someone has added large bio-mechanical eyes, wings, and tentacles to it that twitch, flap, and flail around, but serve no obvious purpose
>Starting to get a bit freaked out by this whole “emulate the Saints” thing, how do people even know they are emulating them the right way? The pamphlets didn’t say anything, and I haven’t seen any Priests at the camp for over a month
>Head back to the rave to see if I can talk to the Captain or the Commissar, I saw them both there a while back
>The rave is even wilder than when I left
>Most people are “skyclad” and many of those that aren’t have cut up and dyed their clothes into strange outfits
>People look a bit different too, Carol’s hair has grown about a foot longer than regulations allow, and she has added a few cup sizes, Greg is now has crazy good muscle tone, but in a weirdly feminine sort of way, and there are a lot more women here than I remember, though the one with the multiple piercings looks a bit like Kyle
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>Weirdest thing though is the performers on stage have somehow put together these really elaborate costumes, with claws and horns and skin dye
>Looks kind familiar...
>Oh wait, I think I have seen a picture of this in the Primer, maybe they are some sort of Saint
>Pull out Uplifting Primer from my thigh pocket
>Flip around a bit
>Find picture
>It is in “Section 5, Of Corruption & Dark Forces”
>This is the section the Commissar said we weren’t allowed to read
>Read anyways
>Blah, blah, blah, mutations, blah, blah, blah, corruption of souls, blah, blah, blah, not all mutations manifest physically, blah, blah, blah, areas of corruption, blah, blah, strange smells, blah, blah, don’t look at weird symbols, blah, blah, report strange behaviour to your Commissar
>shitshitshitshitshitshitshit shitshitshit shitshitshit shitshitshitshitshitshit shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit shitshitshit shitshitshit shitshit shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit
>That sounds exactly like what is happening here...
>Start feeling a lot more sober...
>It says to go find the Commissar...
>Commissar is getting a hug from some chick with cup size F and weird patterns drawn on her skin with glowstick fluid
>He is either thoroughly corrupt, or just having a bad reaction to his meds again
>Maybe I should just sneak off before I also get corrupted
>The Drookian O’Malley shows up
>Did he have that symbol on his forehead earlier?
>Decide to avoid looking at his face, which makes talking to him really awkward
>Luckily he is too busy worrying about where the tattoo on his forehead came from to notice I was staring at the sky throughout our whole conversation
>Okay, that was close
>Need a plan
>The jungle is infested with orks, so can’t go running out there
>Some people are talking about hijacking a yacht and heading to a chocolate factory
>Maybe if I sneak on board, I can slip away once we reach an urban area...
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>Be Dirk
>Me Ogryn
>Fighting Orks on planet called "Arkeepelga"
>Come back from fighting Orks all day
>Supposed to go lift boxes with Gronk the Bone 'Ead
>Gronk is super smart. He can count to 10!
>Got Ork stabby stick stuck in arm, but couldn't pull it out so had to go to needle man for help
>No like needle man
>Needle man give needle and say I won't feel pain.
>Felt pain from needle, but he said that it was for stabby stick pain
>Forgot about stabby stick
>Needle man pulled out stabby stick and put some weird water and then bandage on arm
>Leave to go find Gronk
>Where Gronk.bonk
>Go ask new "Kreeg" man
>Says that Gronk and other Ogryn at place with loud noise because Ogryn loud
>Of course Ogryn loud; stop us from getting lost from group
>Thank Mr. Kreeg and go to loud place
>Get to loud place
>Many colors and lights make eyes hurt a little
>Most people here look scary and pretty, but mainly scary
>Go to lady that not so colorful or scary
>Lady kind of scared
>Maybe she see other scary people here?
>Lady say Gronk just here and talked to funny leg guy
>Go try find Gronk or funny leg guy
>Be me, Ratlin' Sniper Rumpus Groxshanks
>Wake up in me 'idey-hole in the canteen
>First fing I see is this big green bloke covered in sick makin' a mess of me stash a' sweets bars
>We'rd purple bird in kinky boots n' cotton candy 'airr gettin 'err jollies off behind em
>Don't feel like spuddlin' with this fat green fella, so I's bash 'em over the 'ead with me fryin pan.
>Eat all me sweets bars.
>Spew all 'over me self.
>Go back to sleep.
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>Be me
>Guardsman Mark
>In my infinite generocity I decided to give Steve another week to get the money
>I was so generous that I only poped both of his eyeballs and merged his nose and his mouth into one chamber
>Notice that stuff is different arround this time
>People gurgling blood are a normal sight
>The dinner lady probably added razorblades to the soup again
>Some guardsmen are creating a designated shitting trench
>This is going to help keep people away from my latrine
>Remember that I forgot to lock my latrine
>Rush back as fast as I can
>Procede to turn my latrine into a fortress
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>Be Captain Johnston of the Ernest Evans
>It's a smoky old vehicle ferry for shuttling between the islands
>Thing's so old it probably has archaeotech in it
>Come to the last stop on the route
>Some island at the end of the world
>Lonely old Guard base, can never remember its name
>Still, makes for good business bringing soldiers and cargo to and fro
>Got the storm behind us, good thing we left when we did
>Get closer to the island
>Squint through the binoculars
>There's a sailing ship being sailed by Guardsmen
>The base is in an uproar and blazing with coloured lights
>There's big green creatures and blue ones in armour on the beaches and on boats
>There's fish falling from the sky
>Trying to radio the base only gets a screech of binary
>What in the seven stormy seas is going on here?
>You know what? I don't really fancy docking to that.
>I'd take my chances with the storm over this
>Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.
>We may experience a delay in disembarkation and apologise for any inconvenience.
>Should any passengers wish to disembark anyway, please ensure you bring all your baggage and weaponry with you as you swim to shore.
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>Be O'Malley.
>Fixed my leg up. Sure enough, one of the assholes who ruined my clan tat and my leg didn't screw a bolt in proper. Not sure how I didn't have a limp.
>'Nother one of Brian's lackeys charges at me.
>This is getting ridiculous.
>Wait, shit, I recognize that line.
>It is one word off from the words that usually prompt me to ask for a persistent artillery barrage.
>That one sentence puts a whole lot of shit into context.
>Fuck, these spoke motifs gotta be heretical too.
>I ain't no Renegade.
>Put a bolt in red boy's head. End it quick n' clean.
>Trish had her head on straight, figure I should go pick her up and commandeer a Taurox.
>Check the garage real fast.
>There's one left, and it's all spoked up.
>Fuck it, nothing an acid wash later won't fix.
>Hoof it to the rave.
>Trish is still there, looking like she's trying to hide her panicking.
>Light up a lho-stick and act casual.
>Tell her the place is starting to smell like shit, literally, ask if she wants to ride out with me to somplace that smells a bit less like ripe ass.
>Hope to god-emperor she doesn't mistake my brow-signals and glancing for something it ain't.
>... Wait, fuck, I still got a spoke on my forehead.
>Switch to the standard guard hand signals for 'rapid exfil', keep my hands in front of me and out of sight.
>Take a quick look around.
>... Commissar is doing lines off a really weird-looking hooker's ass.
>Honestly have to try to look away, 'cause for some reason, that tentacle skirt got me feelin' some kinda way.
>I probably look a bit more panicked when I finally look at Trish again.
>be tau Crisis Battlesuit pilot Shas'ui leeyung
>get awoken up from my life pod
>get told some crazy fire warrior killed our Ethereal
>get told the ship crew are going crazy about Gue'vesa "chocolate"
>tell my Crisis Battlesuit squad to suit up and get ready to drop
>Air Caste lost control the ship an crash
>wake up again, see kroot eating their dead "savages"
>other tau are dead, still crazy about "chocolate" or crying about our dead Ethereal
>this "chocolate" must be some new weapon it's somehow making the Fire Caste dumber....is that even possible!?
>set up my team around the crash site
>can't find Shas'o too
>start looting from the dead ammo, food, drones.
>find some pamphlets with 4 odd looking people on them
>the Last pic is a man... or a woman...let's call it an "it"
>squad set up a SOS on tau only network
>nothing to do now but read this badly made pamphlets
>Be me, Commissar Trent
>Something's wrong
>I feel like throwing up
>I think I'm coming down from the pills
>The camp is a total shit-show
>There's daemons everywhere adn the whole troops have gone heretics
>About to BLAM some sense into this but a horrid monstruosity holds on to me with her vile crab claws and sully the inside of my mouth
>Before I had time to resist I get pushed into another one of those freaks ass cheeks and made to ingest some kind of substance...
>Some weird bird man who keeps shouting claims a boat has arrived for us
>I get drag with a mob to the boat, halfly throwing up and trying to make sense of what's happening around me
>Some of the traitors painted in red are asking me where Dave went, the fuck am I suppose to know?
>I just mumbles something about bringing the catapult, with a little luck those cretins will sit on it
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>Be Guardsman Bob Da Grot Killa
>Standing in the middle of an Arena knee deep in dead grots and squigs
>Suddenly an Ork wierdboyz materialise next to me and start screaming profanity incoherantly until his head explodes and a Golden Ticket slowly fly down into my hand
>Shit's funny and everybody laugh including me
>Ork warboss stand up and scream something about "Krumping spikey hummie gits" and "takin all da hummie kandies"
>All the orks casually start leaving while I still stand in the middle of the arena
>It become quieter and quieter as they are leaving until I'm left completely alone in the middle of the arena
>"Okay then"
>About to start to walk back to my bunker to watch more heretical Tau cartoons when an ork pop his head back out of the exit and yell
>"... Sure I'll be an ork's pet, who said I couldn't?"
>Follow my new insane xeno friends to boats that seem to float by refusing to understand basic physic principles
>Casually walk pass vox guy on my way aboard
>He's now sporting a paper plate mask vaguely cut to resemble the face of an ork
>There's an Ogryn with green paint on his face next to him repeating whatever he's saying as loudly as he can and a fiew other guys hiding in barrels and boxes behind
>Tau commander Shas'O Myor here
>Crazy fish guys crashed our ships
>They are now running in all direction, raving about this "chocolate"
>Most of my troops are either in chaos or dead
>What's worse, orks have started to surround us and loot the ruins of our ship
>Luckily my soldiers have made a secure perimeter
>Scans of the planet indicate that the major cities are built near factories, which almost exclusively produce the chocolate
>Most likely the only place we can find what we need to repair the ship... and food too
>Order my troops to prepare for an expedition to the Chocolate factories
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>Be Dirk
>Trying to find Gronk the Bone 'Ead
>Other guardsmen are being weird
>A bunch of them went in the tall house, some went to the pottyhouse, some went to find a fight, and others went to the loud place that Gronk wasn't at
>Decide to go to pottyhouse to see if Gronk had to go potty
>This place smells worse than some of the small Orks I step on sometimes
>Speaking of, I step on a few small green things when I enter
>Small Orks must have snuck in, but it looks like the guardsmen here are already wrestling some of them into submission
>Glad to see them enjoying making the Emprah proud
>One of the guardsmen comes up to me
>"Hey big guy! Want a a gift from the great father?"
>He's holding something covered in doody
>"No tank you, need find Gronk. He big, smart, and have metal on head. He Bone'Ead"
>Stink guardsman looks sad
>"Well, I haven't seen your friend, but if you find him, you should come back and celebrate with us. Friends are great!"
>I say okay and turn to leave
>My nose hurts from how stinky they were
>Not coming back there, even if they are nice
>Decide to go to tall house
>Door is blocked, so knock on it
>Hear weird bird and metal voices say to stop and leave
>Doesn't sound like Gronk, or very nice, so leave
>Maybe Gronk with the guardsmen trying to find a fight, so go to where they are
>Arrive and see a bunch of the guardsmen are red
>Also spot some fellow Ogryn, who are red, and go to see if they've seen the boss
>"Where Gronk?"
>"Dunno. Just got red."
>Curious as to why they're red and ask
>"We red for angel. Other guys say we shout 'BLOOD FOR BLOOD GUY!' when fight stuff"
>That's clearly wrong, so I correct him
>"No, dumb dumb! It 'FOR DA EMPRAH', not 'BLOODY BLOOD GUY'! I go get Gronk. Gronk know best!"
>I leave my Ogryn friends, as they scratch their heads, trying to get the line right.
>This place is getting scary. I no like it here. Maybe Gronk can fix this

>Shas'la Hai-Ya again.
>Shas'O Myor got out of the shitshow.
>Should be relieved, but no, just want to strangle something.
>Been popping Ork heads for the better part of an hour. Not satisfying. Still got a craving to wrap my hands around their neck and squeeze.
>Hear something behind me.
>Ork Kommando, looks as surprised as I am.
>Swing my pulse rifle around to point-blank him.
>He knocks it out of my hand.
>Fuck, that was my lucky rifle.
>Draw bond knife. Don't expect it to do shit.
>Ork says I'm too pansy to fight him.
>For some reason, that gets to me.
>Whole next minute is just a haze of red and pissed off.
>Snap back to reality, I'm on top of the Kommando, breath is ragged and harsh. I hear another Ork whistle. "Youz a tuff one eh? Youz like... a supa blu boy! Youz dead 'ard!"
>Lob the Kommando's satchel bomb at the Ork and blow it up.
>Whatever I did, I feel dead tired.
>Could probably keep fighting for a few more hours, but I'm just numb.
>Don't even stop to question why I'm alive and the the Ork isn't.
>Told I'm getting a field promotion to Shas'ui.
>Too tired to care.
>Shas'O tells us we're heading off to the factories.
>I run back into the ship to grab my girlfriend.
>She's alive, and technically awake, but she's slurring badly, keeps talking about "horny heads."
>Battlesuit Pilot's reading a pamphlet.
>"Blood and guts and guts and blood and blood and guts..."
>What the fuck?
>Look around.
>Ask if anyone heard someone chanting about 'blood and guts'.
>Not a soul.
>Get some worried stares...
>They aren't the only ones worried.
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>Be minself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>On my way to Terra.
>Stationned to rather small but charming agri-world.
>It's name is quite simple "Archipelago" I believe
>Tells you a lot about the average intelligence of the resident of this world
>And since dumb people attract dumber people, orks have decided to take a little Waaagh here
>But me I am here to replenish my crew and my pantry.
>And they produces quite a lot of "exotic" food by a classical imperial world definition.
>If I could find some chocolate and guardsmen that would be great.
>I would not mind a Freeboota
>Lower my spaceship from space to atmospheric above the sea
>Notice a small ship with less than ten peons on board
>They are all mostly Guardsmen
>Send an arvus lighter to greet them and propose them to join my expedition.
>This is going to be great
>Still me, Guardsman James
>Colin is in a critical state, more dead than alive but haven't biten the bullet yet
>Spaceship lands near us
>We're asked if we want to join a Rogue Trader
>Between dying in space and dying on tropical islands, it's a hard choice
>The incoming storm made the choice for us
>We don't know how to pilot our boat and Colin needs actual medical attention
>I step up and agree in the name of our group, guess I'll have to fill the role of sergeant
>Brian is bitching that those new guys might steal his posters
>Replied that he should shut up
>Not far behind us is Dave and his blood-crazed maniacs, they just sank a ship with our still loyal comrades on it
>Well, I guess there ain't much binding us here after all
>I ordered Brian, Jerry, Lenny, Emile and Charles to carry everthing that we could into the vessel (which includes Colin, despite Brian and Charles' protests)
>Now let's hope for the best
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>Be Captain Johnston
>It's getting worse on the island
>It's also getting worse out here
>The wind is getting quite strong and the waves getting higher
>Soon we won't be able to dock or sail away
>The Guardsmen on the boat are also seemingly being abducted by a spaceship, and I don't want to join them
>The lorry full of chocolate in the back is threatening to topple off the deck
>There's also several full of ingredients for the factory on the island
>Where am I supposed to put these out at sea?
>there's nobody around in the port
>Where are these goodfornothing dockies when you need them?
>Seriously, where are all these shorers
>The sound echoes off the cliffs as birds take flight
>Still nobody comes
>Put down a gangplank and get off to go look for someone
>When I find the idiot in charge of this shitshow, he's getting keelhauled
>I have to do everything myself down here
>be me
>be Tank commander Donagal of the 37th
>finish running over some pansy who called my malcador defender a glorified tractor with bolters on it
>get handed a vox report
>something about tau sighted fighting orks in a general direction south of old mcgreggor’s barn
>’ate tau
>’ate orks
>luv me corn
>luv me emperah
>luv me malcador
>unhitch the farming equipment from the rear of my ancient vehicle and head forward with a small division of leman russ tanks
>some time passes before the armor is in position to support the guard
>begin to issue orders prioritizing tau targets throwing local command into a shit-fit
>don’t care ‘ate tau
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>Be bob the guardsman
>That storm is crazy
>I basicaly just chosed to drown by accepting to follow that damned ork on his ship
>Suddenly see a small cargo geting close
>I don't even have to signal
>this gloriously insane suicidal son of a bitch is coming directly our way
>Cargo bay open and a grim looking guy dress like an officer start talking "I present myself to offer you a-"
>"Holy golden nugget under terra's thrown, we're way more cramp then I tought we would be"
>Look back at the boat while the door close
>turns out there was only the boat's captain that was actually an ork
>This cargo couldn't be more packed
>there's people squeezed on other people like sardines
>every single bit of space is occupied
>Somebody in front says "We did it lads!"
>Some voice in the upper left says: "we'll die of suffocation before we do anything else ever again"
>A dying choked up voice under the ogryn says "Are we there yet?"
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>Be minself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>The arvus came back with less than a dozen with a ogryn
>Go to the hangar to greet them and welcome them aboard the Hidden Opportunity
>They were packed like sardines in my shuttle.
>I have enough private space for all of them after a little altercation with the authorities on my previous halt.
>One of them is wounded
>Good thing that I equipped this ship with a medbay.
>Ask the man that seems to be their leader about this world and their previous assignment as I take him to the command deck.
>Tell him that he will receive better gear and quality of life if they decides to continue with me on my "pilgrimage" to Holy Terra.
>As we leave an ocean with quite a nasty storm I tell my men to redirect the ship to an island with a cove so that we can set up a small camp to prepare for business.
>In the meantime the guardsman tell me his story
>As soon as he finish his story my com-officer tells me about a Tau offensive.
>I suppose that in a minimum of a month we will have the Inquisition glassing this planet.
>We will have to accelerate business...
>Like those old friend of mine the Blood Raven we will prevent that to much mementos of this world are destroyed by taking them aboard the Hidden Opportunity.
>Mementos, that goes from books to food or "representant of the local culture"
>This planet will be great for business!
>Be Trish
>Standing around trying to be inconspicuous
>One of the ogryns shows up and asks about his bone ‘ead
>Mumble something about how I last saw him with the guy with the funny leg
>Ogryn heads off looking
>O’Malley shows up again, asks me if I want to take a drive somewhere
>Can’t tell if he is trying to hit on me, lure me somewhere to do something bad, or both
>He is making some discrete hand gestures, which are either some front line guard code, or something sexual
>But he seems pretty nervous
>Maybe he actually is just someone like me trying to blend in to save their own skin
>Wonder why more loyalists didn’t try to go down fighting
>Maybe because our regiment is shit, or maybe I missed a firefight while I was cleaning the infirmary
>Or maybe we are all already corrupt, and just don’t know it yet
>Bunch of shitty responses bubble up in my head like those damn multiple choice questions in the pamphlet:
>A) “Hello fellow worshipper of the Dark Ones, how is your life in servitude to the Dark Ones today?”
>B) Chug beers until he goes away
>C) Stare blankly into space
>D) “Okay, but no anal”
>Realize I have been standing around thinking about a response for too long
>Fuck it, pick Option E
>”I will drive”
>Grab him by the wrist and drag him to the garage
>Members of “Team Happy Demon” yell out more than a few lewd remarks as we leave the rave
>Mostly along the lines of “Go get some!”, “Can we watch?”, or “What about us?”, but thankfully no one follows us
>Grab a taurox (keys are still in the ignition) and manage to drive out of the camp while only running over two people and four tents, fucking up while changing gears twice, and ramming the side of the gate on the way out
>Scream like a maniac the entire time since have never actually driven something before, though I have ridden shotgun a couple of times
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>Drive down to the harbor, still having a hard time with the steering but luckily the taurox drives in and out of roadside ditches and through dense patches of trees no problem
>Arrive on a hill overlooking the harbor, things are almost as weird here as back at the camp
>Team Victory Demon is rampaging through small packs of loyalists and civilians in the harbor town
>A large mob of Team Happy Demon types are carrying another boat through town with the Commissar in tow
>An arvus lighter is picking up people from a small boat off the coast, or maybe two boats, it is hard to tell from this angle
>There is one boat at the docks, but the docks are strangely empty
>Fuck, what do I do now? The path to the docks is blocked by Teams Happy and Victory, and even if the one remaining ship at the docks is loyal, they may hesitate to accept me and O’Malley when we are dressed like this, particularly if they have already had a run in with the demon worshippers
>For that matter, I still have no idea whether O’Malley is corrupt or not
>Decisions, decisions, decisions
>And then motherfucking Steve shows up again
>Except now he is eight feet tall, has testicles bigger than my head, multiple tiny little pricks clustered together like barnacles, three breasts in asymmetrical locations, eight inch talons, and no face, just a fleshy gash with two prehensile foot long dick tongues sticking out
>The only way I recognized it as Steve is that stupid cat butt tattoo on his navel
>Also, if anyone was going to turn into something that foul, it clearly would be Steve
>And he has a bunch of Team Happy Demon types with him, clearly looking for some trouble
>be pilot Shas'ui leeyung again
>still reading the this badly made pamphlets
>out of nowhere my cockpit is shaky
>look to my left and see half of battlesuit with a big hole in the chest drop down next to me
>turn my head right and see tanks and 2 APC driving to our front line
>scream "incoming" as we drop the pamphlets and get to what little cover we can find
>half of the tanks are giving good covering fire to the APCs who are speeding to our frontlines
>see one of them slowing down, about to drop off some troopers
>boosting behind them, thrusting my Burst Cannon into the face of the first Guardsman exiting the APC backend
>hearing the screams of the guardsman getting cut down by the Burst Cannon i am blind sided by the Leman Russ Battle Tank
>the thing looks like moving junk, like ork shit
>but this tank commander is on another level, dodging shots like nothing
>but the Gue'La keeps popping out and looking not a me but at our Broadside suits "oh you mother fun-"
>another APC is down by a Broadside Battlesuit, this APC must have been carrying a big VIP because the tank force backs away from us
>later meet up with Shas'O Myor and Shas'ui Hai-Ya, nice promotion
>still got a bad feeling about that tank/
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>Be Dirk
>Still can't find Gronk
>Ogryn friends still saying wrong line
>Have idea
>Commissar very smart
>Smarter than Gronk
>Bigger hat, too
>Decide to go get Commissar
>Only one problem with that plan
>Don't know where Commissar is
>Walking around when I spot another one of the stinky guardsmen
>They're friendly, so he might be able to help
>"Uhhhh, where Commissar? Dirk need find him"
>Stinky guardsman points towards loud, colorful place
>Emprah help meh.vox
>Remember what Commissar Trent told me when I didn't want to stack boxes one time
>"Sometimes, Dirk, we have to do things we don't want to because the Emperor needs us to do them. And if he needs us to do them, that means we can do it"
>I can do this
>Go to the loud, colorful place
>Take a deep breath
>Air tastes funny
>Go into crowd of loud colorful people
>Some of these guardsmen are weird
>Hard, two finger hands like some of the really big Ork's power klaws, but smoother
>Some of them have extra lady parts
>Cover my eyes with one hand, reaching my other hand out to feel for the commissar
>Not supposed to look at lady parts because commissar say they don't like being seen
>Go through crowd calling commissar
>See through the cracks in my fingers a distinctive red, important hat
>It's him
>One of the weird ladies has him in her bum for some reason
>Pull the commissar out of the group of ladies and carry him under my arm while trying to explain the situation with the dumb ogryn
>Realize that I can't hear him speaking, let alone myself due to the loud, colorful noise
>Bring him outside of the area and then put him down, trying to explain the situation

Fuck, just realized I misread the end of Commissar Trent's post

>Be Dirk
>Didn't actually find Commissar at loud, colorful place
>Well, DID go there, but I think the funny air did something to me
>Everything looks funny, and now I'm somewhere else from the camp entirely
>Realize that when I found the Commissar, I actually found him when I stumbled here
>We're on a big boat on the water
>Notice that some of the Ogryns are here, too
Fuck off to qst
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>tfw this thread
>ifunny watermark
Brother you have been tainted as well.
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Bought time the fun police showed up. Thanks for bumping the thread.

>Be O'Malley
>Trish looks confused as fuck.
>Not good, not good.
>Says she'll drive.
>Oh thank the god-emperor.
>We get to the Taurox without much trouble.
>Just looking out the Taurox's windshield is giving me a headache.
>Might need to acid bath the thing sooner than I thought.
>We get to the docks, and a voice in my head is telling me to jump into the water.
>Yeah no thanks.
>Fucking Steve shows up.
>Only reason I can tell is because that testicle tattoo he showed everyone eight times is still there.
>Klep instincts tell me to check the glovebox.
>Gonna have a long chat to whoever thought putting an unsecured Whitefire Grenade in a glovebox was smart.
>Handy though.
>Tell Trish to fucking punch it.
>Tell her to drive-by Steve if she can, show her the Whitefire Grenade.
>We'll figure out another way out.
>Voice tells me to pull the pin.
>Grimace and tell her she might need to take my bolter and put me down before long.
>Already feel my teeth getting pointier. Check myself. Thankfully it's just my teeth.
>For now.
>be tank commander Donagal in a Malcador Defender
>3rd gunner is down
>instruct radio operator to take his place
>demolisher cannon is starting to protest under battle strain
>four main battle tanks in the column are less than scrap
>thankfully the aid of the 9th edition primer allowed the column to sneak up into melta range of the blue skinned pansies
>the driver is getting a promotion for avoiding the fury of xenos plasma weapons after he’s done giving the venerable tank a new paint job
>searching into the back hatch donagal pulls out his plasma pistol and opens the top hatch amid the storm of blue fire
>taking wild shots at battlesuits
>the great white xenos would be tonight’s prize
>suddenly leaflet
>join the greater good yaddah yaddah, serve the tau empire yaddah yaddah, break the yoke of the oppressors, yaddah yaddah
>it’s fortunate not many of your men can read but the pictures are really nice and colorful enough to present a desertion hazard
>throwing the pamphlet aside donagal takes aim at the great flying xenos only to be jerked around by the driver to avoid more fire
>swears are drowned out by heavy bolter fire in all directions
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>Be Shas'ui Hai-Ya.
>Ethereal-free for an hour. Already killed maybe fifty some-odd Orks and Gue'La.
>Something feels wrong... can't put my finger on it.
>Don't even know someone's speaking to me until I stumble from Leeyung's backpat. Not even that hard, just didn't see it coming.
>She's speaking, smiling at me. I'm hearing words, but they're not matching up with her lips.
>"Kill them all. Kill them before they make you a slave again. Kill them all and rule."
>Suddenly see something. Daydream, vision, something like that.
>See myself, a Shas'o, but of horribly twisted troops. Realize I'm not in a battlesuit, I'm genuinely that huge in this whatever-it-is.
>Blink a little. Leeyung's starting to look worried.
>Maybe I don't mention this particular episode.
>Hand girlfriend over to the medics.
>Can't go with her, they find out, I'm getting shackled to another Ethereal.
>200% done with getting cucked, probably going to try and elope with her to Farsight after all's said and done.
>Heard they don't care for Ethereals either.
>We managed to salvage some Earth Drones.
>Just a river between us and the factories.
>Plan's to build a bridge and march over it.
>Probably gonna scrap part of the ship to do it.
>Decide to settle in with the battlesuit pilots. Pick up one of those pamphlets and give it a read.
>Gue'La handwriting is shit, legible only in the strictest sense of the word. Have to squint to read it.
>Be me
>COMMISSAR ONLY SAID "Help... meeeeeeurgh *vomit sounds*"
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>Be Trish
>O’Malley says to fucking punch it
>Pedal to the metal
>Barrel directly at Steve but he jumps out of the way
>Come to think of it, Steve and his buddies probably had no way of knowing who was in the Taurox, it is pretty enclosed, may have been better just act normally
>On the other hand, Steve has no visible eyes, so who knows what he can and can’t sense
>Also I have no idea what insane corrupted.......things consider to be normal behaviour
>O’Malley is saying something about a grenade, but not really listening as I try to line up the Taurox so that it goes in between the first two large buildings on either side of the main road through the harbor town
>Then he says something about shooting him with a bolter if he gets too corrupted, which distracts me long enough that I end up grinding the Taurox hard against the buildings on one side of the road, and then overcompensating and grinding the Taurox hard against the buildings on the other side of the road
>Most of the corrupted guardsmen in town get out of my way, and some even cheer on my bad driving
>Still run over a few though, but no one seems to mind
>Four near collisions later, make it to the docks
>Jump out, reach back in to grab that laspistol that was sliding around on the floor the whole time, and run over to the single docked boat
>There is a guy standing on the dock near the gangplank
>He looks uncorrupted
>Wave my laspistol around and say “I am commandeering this vessel in the name of the Imperial Guard, bad shit is coming this way, so you better leave harbor unless you want to find out how many dicks fit in your mouth”
>Run up the gangplank without stopping to hear his response
>Hear O’Malley running after me
>Oh right, him
>That will be an interesting conversation

>Be O'Malley
>Voices getting worse.
>Trish drives the Taurox hard.
>Yank the pin, toss grenade out the window.
>Neat thing about Whitefire, the smoke's corrosive.
>Commit what in an alternate reality would be a warcrime.
>Grin a little as I hear Steve and his groupies scream in agony as we keep driving.
>Hear a couple voices in my head, one weirdly androgynous and one really fucking loud, praising me for what I just did.
>Shit, that robbed all the joy out of torching Steve.
>Shit, probably shouldn't have told Trish I'm starting to go, her driving goes straight to hell.
>We make it to the docks. Half the Taurox is shorn off but it still drives well enough.
>Find a ship captain.
>Somehow not corrupt.
>Thank the God-Emperor.
>Find some gauze, manage to cover up the spoke on my forehead.
>Still got the spoke on my shotgun-leg, but that doesn't seem to be giving anyone headaches, so it can wait.
>Got one hand on my bolt pistol at all times.
>Covering Trish's six while she commandeers.
>My flak is so torn up I probably look like a Renegade, so I decide to leave the talking to her.
>Klep senses tingling.
>Check the dock office.
>Some scrawny guy, probably used to be a menial, is hiding away in a corner, covered in Chaos brands.
>Apply the Emperor's Mercy to the poor bastard, he was half-dead already.
>Rifle through some of the drawers and cabinets.
>Find some documents.
>They're the incriminating kind.
>Transcribed communicaes between a bunch of Ecclesiarchy dick-hats.
>Four names I don't recognize on the paper, just looking at them is making the voices redouble.
>Take some redaction tape and slap it on.
>Easier to read, still plenty heretical enough to probably buy my life from the Inquisition, if they drop by.
>Suddenly hear rave music.
>Time to get the fuck outta here.
>Sprint back to Trish, tell her the noise fetishists are getting close.
Seems legit.
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>Be Captain Johnston
>Where the blazes is this harbourmaster?
>If he doesn't show up, I'm going to blow the horn until he does
>Lazy prat
>Walk off down the quay to look around
>Still haven't seen a soul
>Suddenly, the silence is broken by the screeching of tyres and a roaring engine
>Whoever that drunkard driving is should have their licence revoked
>She jumps out, waves a pistol around and announces he is commandeering my vessel
>Is she heck!
>What does this nine-arsed nitwit think she's doing with my ship?
>She's already off up the gangplank, presumably to threaten the helmsman
>Get back here, you peremptory pestiferous she-pirate!
>Someone else runs off to break into the harbourmaster's office
>If you find him, give him a beating from me
>Comes running back with some paperwork and yelling about noisy people
>What are you on about, son?
>They the ones doing the rave?
>Probably just wants some P&Q.
>What is presumably the mob making the noise rounds the corner onto the far end of the quay
>They don't look like you typical young ravers to me
>He starts yelling some more about how we need to go
>I understand your point, but we need to cast off first
>We have a few minutes before they make it to this end of the port
>Better start untying those ropes sharpish, eh lad?
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>Be Chad
>Be follower of “Angel of Happiness” or something like that
>Don’t really care
>Been getting all sorts of strange ever since the hot chicks with the claws took over
>Lots of drugs too
>Now we are on a boat, going to go raid a chocolate factory or something
>Whatever, lots of hot chicks on the boat so doesn’t matter where we are going
>Couple of ogyns are on the boat too, but they look like they have no idea what is going on
>Sometimes you got to roll with shit and not ask questions, like the Chadster does
>Ahhh Yeaaah!!
>The Comish is also on the boat
>Someone is sitting on his face again
>Now that is what I am talking about
>Ahhh Yeeeah!!!
>Also there is this weird ass giant raven thing sitting on the edge of the boat
>Talking to itself about stuff that doesn’t make any sense
>But it least it has tits
>Ahhh Yeeaah!!
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>Be O'Malley.
>Captain's pretty pissed.
>Understandable really.
>Ignore voice in head telling me to feed him his own balls.
>Druglords and ravers gettin' real close real fast.
>Don't have time to do a decent unknotting job.
>Give a quick apology to the Captain. He probably ain't gonna like my plan.
>Snap my bolt pistol up into firing position.
>Shoot at the anchor points to sever the ropes snappy.
>Honestly, not the best shot. But with a bolt pistol, don't need to direct-impact, just need to get close.
>Had to shoot at one twice, but the ship's starting to drift.
>Run over to the gangplank, help the captain on, and start making my way on board.
>Heart's racing a mile a minute.
>Someone throws a fucking dildo at me while I'm making my way up the gangplank.
>Fire a couple potshots into the crowd before rushing onto the deck.
>Make sure gauze is still on my tat.
>Tape's starting to come loose, but hasn't fallen off.
>Introduce myself after handing the captain his chrono back.
>PFC O'Malley, Drookian Fenguard.
>Also warn him I'm a klepto. Hands can't stay in my own pockets.
>Decide not to mention my Bolt Pistol is technically registered to a Commissar.
>A dead Commissar.
>Not Trent, though. Trent's only an asshole when he's off his meds.
>Be me, former Dire Avenger Ashemela.
>Corsairing around, got exiled from my Craftworld for getting handsy with the Farseer.
>I am now known as "she who is thirsty" on Alaitoc.
>Hear about planet that has both Tau and Imperials on it right now.
>Big ol' chocolate world.
>Downside: Chaos is on the planet.
>Fuggit, I'm hungry and horny.
>Bring the ship in on stealth mode.
>Land in an alleyway in the factory district.
>Place may as well be a ghost town. Sensors don't pick up a solitary soul.
>Figure if anyone's still alive, they'll come here.
>Kick back and keep an eye on the sensors.
>Ship's still cloaked thanks to a stealth field generator I knicked off a webway gate.
>Be Trish
>Pretty sure I don’t actually have the authority to commandeer something this big
>Munitorum usually has to compensate people for stuff like this, and they value my life about as much as they value the contents of a half-full ashtray someone poured beer into
>I also don’t look very guardsman-ish since I am still wearing my short sleeve medical orderly uniform with symbols painted on it in pink lipstick and glowsticks hanging everywhere
>Start heading to the part of the ship I assume is the helm
>Hopefully waving my laspistol around will do the trick
>If not, they will probably clue in when the crazies show up that now is a good time to leave
>Speaking of which, a mob of “Team Happiness Demon” shows up at the docks
>They got a big yacht on a big flatbed truck, stereos everywhere blasting rave music
>Also some weird giant bird thing is perched on top
>The flatbed truck drives right off the dock into the deep water
>Someone on board is apparently smart enough to cut the truck loose before it dragged the yacht down with it, because now the yacht is floating fine in the water
>See O’Malley and the bearded guy run up the gangplank
>What looks suspiciously like a dildo gets thrown by a member of the mob and bounces off O’Malley’s head
>Yell at some random ship crew dude to disembark faster before continuing to head towards the bridge
>Fuck, why is this taking so long?
>This boat better be able to outrun the yacht
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>Be Blood Raven chapter
>Kitchen and Reliquary is empty of gifted chocolate
>Oh no!
>What should we do?!
>One battle brother suggests we kindly ask if a nearby planet has a surplus of the exotic nectar
>Luck would have it we are just near the planet of Archipelagia
>Prepare for deep strike!
>Be me Guardsman Colin
>Having what could loosely be called a nightmare
>Feels like I've been here forever
>Cant see, except when I want to be blind
>Cant hear except when I want to be deaf
>Suddenly feel something new
>Gentle warmth, like the planets sun before a hurricane
> Feel the heat fill my being, wilting away impurity
>Light seeps into my eyes
>mfw I see some horrible mutant standing over me
>nvm it's just Charles
>Throw him off my anyway, he was probably drawing dicks on me again
>Groggily scan my surroundings
>looks like a ship's cabin
>I'm thirsty
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>Be me.
>Shas'la Sa'rah. Driver of the fastest frakking Piranha in the cadre.
>Some dumbass managed to crash the Manta while we were on it.
>Ethereal's dead. Felt the weird hormone thingy link die.
>Good. Dude was a creep and made me do things with him. If you're gonna order a chick to frakk you, at least be good at it ya know.
>Some people start sperging out about shooting people or ku'ng fu'ing their shit in.
>Fish people are raving about some Gue'la food. I mean, they make good shit, but there's better things in life. Like going really really fast.
>Get my copilot/gunner Shas'la Be'key. She's a tau exemplar of 'problem', very weird and kind of a bitch but she's my bitch ya know.
>Least she's not that that slut battlesuit pilot Shas'ui Jes'sica. Just because you have a rack that big, and get to wear a pilot's suit and shove it in every male's face doesn't mean you get to be such a know-it-all.
>You shouldn't be allowed to pull rank for being a bitch.
>Probably slept her way into that promotion too.
>Fucking bitch.
>Channel hatred of that bitch into shooting our way out of the hull because no Ethereal to say no. Also a bunch of others are leaving, and several are raving about blood and skulls and trying to shoot us.
>Can't shoot us if we're moving faster then you can see, loosers.
>Drive for a while, finally, through the wind and air. Be'key's whining about how unfair that it was that the ship crashed like that.
>That's just Bec'key though. Bec'key always whines. Remind her that it might have killed that water caste dude from 3rd level.
>Now she's happy it happened. Typical Bec'key
>See a camp with what looks like a rave going on. Bec'key pipes up and tells me to go down so she can get high on whatever drugs they have.
"Omg for frak's sake Bec'key. No, we're not doing that!"
>Bec'key starts whining again.
>Come to think of it, they look like a military group...
>Military group means drugs are probably combat stimm's.
>Humans have THE BEST, combat stimm's.
>Combat stimm's make you go faster.
>Meaning you can drive faster.
>Make a show of being convinced.
"Like, omg, fine Bec'key. Just don't get frakked up before you get back and stay away from creeps."
"Okay MOM."
>Again, Bec'key's a bitch, but she's my bitch.
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>be me
>Peace Keeper Nicholas of the Argo Brigade
>be just chilling on base on some world between deployments
>the planet isn't Argo
>so its not loyal
>so it doesn't matter what planet it is
>though, it isn't in out right rebellion, so there's that
>pacifying sedition is monotonous work
>me and some of the guys are enjoying the down time by relaxing and playing the brick game
>last round went my way so I might just being winning some thrones
>notice members of the local P.idar D.rochit F.ignya eyeballing us
>remember what we were told about the importance of fostering camaraderie with local forces vis a vis joint operations and legitimacy
>smile and nod at them
>a sort of pudgy looking one of them with a scowl begins to saunter over
>he starts going on about not caring what we're all doing here, that we're all taking too long, that the planetary governor should start over and rethink our presence here, this is his planet, respecting the PDF, gambling our thrones, and I think something about being on a quest
>I really don't care, but I have to endure all of this noise; for the brigade
>I just want to get back to having fun with the guys
>wish he was a heretic so I could crucify him and be done with it
>suddenly get a better idea
>interrupt him and say to the guys "Looks like we got another player!"
>they grab him as I get passed the hammer
>just as I swing the pain hits me
>someone, somehow, somewhere close is engaging in heresy
>look at the guys
>we walk away from the game and a group of dismayed PDF to prepare for COIN OPS

10 minutes reading thread
10 billion years looking for an adequate picture of guys vaguely reminiscent of Argo gaurd, and then russian profanity to spell PDF
10 hours not bothering to post
10 seconds typing post
this reminds me of the cold shoulder sector. good stuff.
Depends on the regiment. Cadia is said to have bars and brothels so I assume they get cash payments. There is also a semi universal currency called thrones but those might have been made up for the fantasy flight RPGs. The planet they came from is in charge of recruiting them so its down to their native culture. A system that has mentioned a few times is one where they sign up for the guard and are constantly at war until they die or retire. "retirement" usually means they get a small plot of land on a world that the Imperium claimed or reclaimed during their career.
>Be mineself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>I have finally found objects of important value for me.
>But to get to said objects I am in a dire need of cover.
>There was this small cargo and a yacht that both are on my radar.
>My friend, Akusa Kitkepala navigator does not like the yacht.
>In a sense it will be less confortable to travel but we could loot sorry save more tokens of this small world.
>And the fact that a ship like that is bland enough is good for my réputation as I will never be involved
>Gather a small kill team made of my old and new guards all equiped with hellfire lasgun and carapace armor
>In case that profit does not show up or endangered.
>Mount my stormeagle, part of a "legacy" from an inquisitor for me.
>Mount with my twenty gards and fly to the port a few miles from here.
>Akusa was right: the yacht is full of degenarates.
>And they have demons!
>We have no time!
>I call the Hidden Business to tell him to be on guard and stand by, order them to collect fuel and prometheum for our next jump in time.
>The yacht seems to be pursuing the cargo.
>Well damn it all.
>Tell the pilot to land on the cargo, that everyone will follow on this vessel.
>I will make some proposition that the captain will not refuse.
pure insecurity
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>Be Captain Johnston
>Remind me to bill you for those ropes later
>If you want to earn your passage, you can start by tying down those lorries on deck
>Rather not lose them overboard in the storm
>Where's my damnable whisky?
>I need a drink
>Hmm, we appear to be being pursued by a yacht with the noisies aboard
>Full ahead! Don't let them catch us!
>The ship accelerates to a blistering 16 knots
>About 2kt of that is from the tailwind
>With the throttle at full, the old engine starts belching smoke and soot
>Rather a lot of smoke, in fact
>With the tailwind blowing it forward, everything slowly disappears in a thick cloud of oily black smoke
>Should any of you suffer from asthma, please die as quietly as possible
>I'll have to have the soot caking scrubbed off again later
>Navigating entirely by compass and radar in the smokescreen
>Over the roar and rattle of the engine there sounds like an approaching jetcraft
>Can't see what it is, and they probably can't see us either
>If you get clobbered by the ship, I am not responsible
more please. I hope Dirk finds Gronk
A sort of Shimeji with a touch of vinegar is what comes to mind. But it would be somewhat chewy, like game meat. Probably already comes seasoned with gunpowder.

Which version? The 1971 movie`s Wonka is a legit madman which seems to appeal to Slaanesh because of the sweets, but it is all illusions and secret plans and rainbows and games worthy of Tzeentch.

>Welcome to the Warp boat ride!
Yeah, though most of them just have the money sent to their family. If you survive 20 years you get given a farm like the romans did, which if you combine with 20 years of back pay is a pretty nice reward

I had a character recently be a former guardsmen who got all that, but he joined the arbites after getting bored shovelling grox shit and farming Brassicas. He joined up with the inquisitor after the inquisitor mentioned it'd be extremely easy to get him and his wife some Rejuvenat treatments because he's approaching 40 and starting to feel it
Agree and bump
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>be me
>seasoned PDF veteran Kevin
>doing the rounds on base keeping his holy Imperium secure
>notice a bit of a commotion in the distance
>some of the Imperial Guard waylaid here are doing... something with bricks
>they're being a little too rowdy for the decorum of a military base
>also a few of the rookie PDF are standing around watching when they should be doing their holy duty for the sake of all mankind
>on top of that they seem to be gambling with their thrones
>while gambling isn't against regs I personally find it to be skirting the spirit of conduct becoming of a stalwart defender of humanity
>consider approaching them... but they are guard... and they are huge... and by the Emperor what are they doing to each other?!
>then one of them who seemed to be wary of my presence locks eyes with me and acknowledges my authority
>well that settles it, it is my responsibility as the senior officer here to set these boys straight
>put on my tough face and begin to march over to the guard that acknowledged me
>see that my commanding presence has an immediate effect on him as his smile winces in the face of the coming storm
>begin to dress down the guardsmen
>start by establishing my authority
>the remind them of their duty and chastise them for what they are doing with his currency
>things are going well
>I can tell from the look on the guardsman's face he is squirming hoping I don't bring this incident up the chain of command
>his buddies are also speechless hanging on my every word and staying still as statues hoping I won't unleash the fury on them
>hear some of the rookies behind me sigh and walk off as they head my words and remember their duty to their Emperor and Imperium
>Just as I am waxing about the quest of every fellow defender of man the guardsman in front of me begins to smile
>He interrupts me and says "Looks like we got another player!"
>all of the guard start smiling and laughing and two of them grab me by the arms and legs
>Huh? Stop!
>They surround me and stack bricks on my chest
>why? Seriously!
>the guardsman I singled out stares down at me with a maniacal grin
>What's going on?!
>he is handed a hammer
>he swings
>close my eyes and tense up
>hear a sickening crack and feel the impact on my chest as all the air is forced out of my lungs
>then silence
>I'm dead
>panic subsides as I realize I'm hyperventilating
>I would surely be dead if I wasn't wearing my carapace plate under my uniform
>open my eyes and look up at the guardsmen
>they all have this stern expression and look away from me and to each other
>they suddenly drop me and turn and march toward the barracks
>I get sort of caught up in the crowd
>realize I just went through hazing
>realize they must respect my natural leadership skills
>realize they are taking me on a mission
>We're in the big leagues now
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>Still me Guardsman Colin
>Just woke up from my nap
>Breathing good but the cabins a bit dark
>Navigate to the deck
>Look at the sky
>Can swear I see face in the sun
>It's just out of reach, close my eyes before I can see it clearly
>Need to find somebody besides Charles to talk to
I think OP left the thread, someone should take over no?
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>Be Dirk
>Someone sat on Commissar's face
>About to tell colorful lady that Commissar isn't a chair or box, when someone grabs my shoulder and pulls me away
>It's one of the ogryns
>Look over to edge of boat and see big bird guy
>Colorful, but not loud, and the colors are confusing instead of hurty
>Turn back to ogryn, remembering his question
>The ogryn who grabbed me looks as if he's trying to do the unthinkable: think
>Look at the bird thing again
>I don't want to talk to it, but it looks like that's my only clue
>Also feel like I forgot to do something
>Go to weird bird and overhear the loud color people say something about a nice chair
>I wish I had a chair
>Bird seems to be talking to everyone, itself, or something else entirely
>Try to get his attention
>Bird says a lot of words that I don't understand, but do hear him say something about Gronk being at a "Blood Shed" or something
>I don't see a shed on this boat
>Maybe we'll find the "Blood Shed" when this boat gets to land again
>I should go find the Commissar and ask
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>Y̴̧̤̬͕͊̿̓͝ö̵̢̧̡̝͇̦͓̯̪͙̻̞̪́̔̈́͑͗̓̍͝͝u̷̻͇͕̟͙͙̬̇̓r̸̫͎͛ ̸̫̹̦͉̤̞̟̞̳̼̯̎̉͆̽̾̓͆͑͋͝f̸̧̧̯̹͎̰̤͖̈̀͒̄́͗̄́̇͝ͅr̴̠̰̒̈́̀̏͋̆̊̎į̴̙͍̤̹̦̥́̌̒̓̔́̄̔̈̈̄́̈̕̕ë̸̡̧̧͍͕͙̦̣̖͎̻́̾͂͑n̸̳̾͗̂̏̉̓̎̋̊̽͝d̴̳͕̗̺͔̹̦̆̒͋̐̓͘͝ͅ ̸̼̄̾̽̈̑̏͑͐́̓ĭ̴̟̰̼͔̮̝͔̍͋͊̉̽̀̃͑s̸̡̈́͒̋̿̾̍̃̔͒̒͗͘̕̚͜ ̸̛̛͎͍͍͚͇͚̱̹̝̹̞̟̆̓̾͛̎̾̾̃̑̽̈́͘̕͜ͅd̸̛̦̮͙̭̼̙̞͑̀͆̾͋͋̀̀̈́̓̈́͆̕͜o̸̝̣͍̭̪͔͚̤̙͊̒̊̀̉̎̇͑̃̚͜o̵̢̩̩̥̖͕̼͕͚̬̗̩͒̊̐̇̇m̴̛̜͇͈̳͉̟̦͕̾̆̓̓͛̾̄̋̓̔̀̓͠e̶̜̯͇̫̰̜̪̗̤͙̭̫͇͈̿̿̄̈͐͗͛͊̾̂̈̉d̸̨̨͖̘̖̤̤͔͋ ̷̢̣̭̤̞̗͔̠̟̰͉͇͂̓͘ć̵̨̧̨̫̦͕̜̯̬̩͍͎͉̘͌͠h̷̨̡̯͈̭̝̭̼̫̬̦̪̄̒̊̒̂ǐ̷̗̘̗̟̣̈́́͊̾ļ̴̛̛͉̼̻̭͖̜͆̋̐͊́͑̀̾͌̈́̔͛̚d̸̢̛̬̜̖̬̖̻̦͇͕̯͖̗̘͑̒̏͗͝͝
>Be Trish
>The boat is moving along at a pretty good pace
>It is producing lots of smoke though, reminds me of my old job at the corpse starch factory
>End up talking to the Captain about where we are going
>Hope he forgets the part where I said I was commandeering the boat, since I really can’t back that up
>Nearest town is a place called Wonka Land, where local ratlings are used as slave labor to make chocolate under conditions that are rumored to be inhumane even by Imperial standards
>In fact there is all sorts of rumors about that place
>But the town is big enough that we can probably lie low for a bit and assess how far the corruption has spread
>According to the documents O’Malley found, the corruption clearly isn’t limited to just the components of the regiment that were operating out of Camp Xenos Purge
>It is tempting to try to radio for help, but if the corruption has spread far enough, they can just send some PDF aircraft to sink us
>Come to think of it, fleeing on a boat was a pretty bad idea, though lying low in ork infested jungle was probably just as bad, best to get ashore as soon as possible, and Wonka Land is the closest harbor
>With all the smoke everywhere, it is hard to tell whether the “Party Yacht” is following us
>I know Commissar was talking about raiding a town with a chocolate factory, hopefully this isn’t the same one, given that literally every town on this shithole planet probably has at least one small chocolate factory
>All in all I am very proud of my strategic thinking
>Why yes, I am sometimes considered a genius, how can you tell?
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>Be Chad
>Yarr har Fiddle Dee Dee
>We are pirates now
>We are off to raid some port town for women, treasure, and chocolate
>Ahh Yeeaahh!!
>The floor of the Party Yacht is moving kind of weird
>Realize it is because we are now in water, while before we were on land somehow
>Can boats drive?
>Chilling in the one of the hot tubs on the upper deck
>Trying to remember if there is anyone on this boat I haven’t tapped at least once since this all began
>Maybe that giant bird thing with tits?
>It is currently talking to one of the ogryns, but then it suddenly transforms into some other bird thing that is less hot, causing two bystanders to get burned to death with rainbow colored fire in the process
>Maybe later...if it turns back into something hot again
>Two armored chicks with blue skin land on one of the helipads in some sort of flying vehicle, and come over and ask for drugs
>Ahh Yeeaaahhh!!!!
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>she who is thirsty
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>Be Lucius, your friendly Imperial Guard vox operator
>Actually I used to be, now I'm muscle for a rogue trader
>It's a nice and cozy move up if you ask me
>Get re-equiped with sweet first grade gears, I even heard I'll get paid
>Hear the other guys saying stuff like "Sweet a pay raise"
>Wich is implying they get money since day one
>What's up with that?
>Go to armory and start to chat a bit with other guys while changing
>I heard rumors we're remplacing a team that suffered attrition and captures to a sex crased eldar corsair
>May the emperor save them from death by intense love making and inappropriate hand holding
>I've talked with other guys that were at base too
>They said everyone were playing with literal shit, having orgies and engaging in shameless cannibalism while we where running out of ammo and geting butchered by the damned orks
>This news does not digest well in me, the more I think it over
>Get a bit annoyed
>Then a bit mad
>Then a lot mad
>Then angry
>Then very angry
>Then planet shatering exterminatus angry
>Move past anger to a state of unstopable murderous intent that sharpens the sense and reflex tenfolds
>Sweating profusely, drooling like an animal I start to breathe heavily
>New boss says it's time for business
>I load in the transport like an ammunition in the magazine of an autogun
>For the Emperor, For the Golden Thrown, For the Abandonned Guards
>It's time for business
>Be O'Malley.
>Trying to keep busy.
>Trying to pay attention to literally anything but the voices in my head.
>Yeah, I'm fucked.
>Can't die yet though, gotta make sure Trish gets a way off planet.
>Voices stop.
>I do not find this comforting.
>Suddenly get shoved on the floor.
>Scramble to try and find what did it.
>"Fuck, they stuck my ass in your head?!"
>Voice is angry, halfway demonic.
>Fuck my life.
>"Get the fuck up!"
>Suddenly see something that looks mostly human.
>Unholy glow behind its shades, skin is an angry red, and it has horns that lead up to a flaming halo.
>Am I possessed now?
>Try and scramble away. Daemon disappears, gut's telling me to watch my left.
>Get fucking haymakered anyways, Daemon pushes me up to my feet and slams me against the wall.
>"You wanna die? Do it like a man, put some iron in your mouth and pull the trigger!"
>Kick it in the stomach.
>With my shotgun leg.
>Safety's off.
>Daemon disappears, there's a shotgun hole.
>That felt way too damn real.
>My bolt pistol is on the other side of the room...
>... but I'm too scared to try and get it.

>Be Shas'ui Hai-Ya.
>Halfway across the freshly constructed bridge.
>Bec'key and Sa'rah went flying off in the opposite direction.
>Good, average intelligence quotient of the unit just skyrocketed.
>Do a double take.
>By the Tau'va that was a dickish thought.
>... Not wrong, though.
>Is there something wrong with me?
>I should see a doctor... but at the same time, don't want to end up mindslaved again.
>I'm confused, and worried, and angry.
>Fuck it, just focus on marching for now.
>Don't notice the paint on my shoulderpad is starting to crack and peel off...
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>Be Ashemela again.
>My favorite harem member in my lap.
>She's an absolute cinnamon roll.
>Poor girl got it hard in Commoragh before I bought her.
>So damaged she thinks she's Repentias.
>Reading her an old Aeldari lullaby.
>Spot a blip on my radar.
>This better be a hot chick, or I'm gonna be very cross.
>Fuck, it's a "party boat" with Chaos on it.
>Bundle up my favorite not-Repentias.
>She stammers out "I-I hope you have a wonderful day."
>Wipe my nose, go grab my gear.
>Shuriken Catapults: Solving 800 to 900 problems a minute.
>Step out of my voidship with a pair of magnoculars.
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>Be me
>Be Willy Wonka the 316th
>My family can trace its roots back to old Terra
>Now insanely rich
>Secretly own large chunks of the sector through a series of intermediaries
>But prefer to focus on the family business of making candy and luring people into dying painfully in ways that vaguely resemble poetic justice
>Sent out a new batch of golden tickets two days ago, offering free tours and a life supply of chocolate (and also a million bills of high denomination local currency)
>Now the first contestants are already arriving at my private island Wonka Land, which serves as a factory, giant slave plantation, and also massive deathtrap
>Everyone is staying at my hotel/casino Wonka Tower while we wait for the rest of the contestants to arrive
>Already killed off one contestant with the malfunctioning fellatio machine, another who went skinny dipping in what turned out to be a pool full of piranhas, and a third tried to sell me his daughter to cover the gambling debts he was wracking up at the casino, but actually signed forms giving me the rights to all his vital organs (and also his daughter)
>The Heads of the Operations, Militia, Private security, and Aerial monitoring (OMPA) and Lyric development, slave Oversight, Murder coverup, Predatory recruitment, and Arson (LOMPA) Divisions show up
>Like most OMPA LOMPAs, their height has been stunted by surgery and hormones, yet they are morbidly obese and have the distinct orange skin of someone who has gotten diabetes from eating excessive amounts of cocaine laced chocolate
>They tell me some smoke covered ship is arriving in the harbor
>Hmmm, the next passenger ferry and cargo ship isn’t expected for a few days
>Could be a wealthy contestant arriving on their own ship
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>be me, jokaero aboard the Hidden Opportunity
>was convinced to make digital weapons for the rogue trader of this ship
>i will make something better, something greater
>i will make something grander
>i get to work
>i made a device that takes the user's mature ovaries of a flowering plant that is edible
>when the user wishes it, the device will remove the mature ovaries' outer casing as well as the contents that will grow into another botanical entity until only the sweet fleshy substance is left
>the device will then mix, crush, purée or emulsify the remaining fleshy insides creating a concoction that will satisfy the user's craving for refreshment
>go to sleep for my work is done
>i made pic related
>Or could be ork freebootaz, those drug lords I ripped off, that Chaos cult I have been bankrolling, one of my clone brothers fighting over the family fortune, any number of Imperial authorities, or anyone else seeking revenge, justice, or just trying to steal my wealth
>Order the OMPA LOMPAs to code yellow
>All combat worthy personnel will be armed but put on standby, same with the murder servitors, anti-air defences, automated limpet mines, large scale deathtraps, and assorted heretical gismos
>We will see what these newcomers want, but will be prepared...
On a scale of fine to FUCK OFF FAGGOT, how okay are you with a massive Rok crashing straight down on your factory anon?
Rest in peace Ogryn buddy
This thread is fucking great. Why aren't there more of these on /tg/?
/qst/ exists and neckberdia would likely ruin the fun.
The last great one was two years ago: the battle for Damnatum Lutum. It was so long that neckbeardia could not cover it all that and the fact that he is a krieg faggot.
Don't know who neckbeardia is, but he sounds like a supreme faggot.
He's a guy that copies threads and puts me on YouTube. Dudes still a faggot for not linking the threads

his minis are ugly and kinda overpriced for their quality.
>be me, genestealer on a rogue trader's ship
>recently had an obsession with pants
>look weird so i cannot interact with the other workers
>resorts to stealing pants
>am now jeanstealer
Hahahahah amazing OP please keep going
bump for this emperor-forsaken planet
It is fine assuming a large chunk of the factory is still standing

I will write more tonight, but other people should feel free to come up with whatever Willy Wonka related interactions they can think of
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>Be me again. Shas'la Sa'rah.
>Currently high off my tits on what's maybe slightly possibly an potential overndose of gue'la cnombat stimms.
>Everything's really bright and somehow everything's faster and slower at the same time.
>Can't tell if I'm flying through a massive storm of bullets and blaster fire, or if it's just wind and I'm on too much stuff.
>Shit's colourful as frakk. Pretty sure I can smell sound and hear voices or some shit.
>Right, probably just Bec'key again.
>Bec'key's in the back, cradling an ammo box containing a hunter cadre's worth of drugs in it, and giggling to herself, mumbling something more slurred then gue'la legal ethics, every so often.
>Nah it's fine though. Because every time Bec'key moves herself around, fidgety bitch she is, she inevitably wipes her helmet over her console, letting off four pulse carbines and a burst cannon, entirely in random directions in entirely inpredictable moments.
>No idea if the targeting software's picked up on anyone, or if anyone's around to get hit by several bolts of plasma.
>Don't really care. I'm in a piranha, stimm'd off my tits, zooming around at the speed of sound.
>Kinda wanna shoot something anyway.
>Just for the love of T'au could Bec'key stop her giggling for five minutes.
>be Peace Keeper Nicholas
>just put the game on hold and suited up
>then sure enough me and the guys are told we have an assignment
>being sent on LRRP to gauge the local loyalty level and report enemy movement if encountered
>planet has an Ork problem
>not our problem
>plan to air drop into mostly secure territory followed by mechanized recon
>standard load-out with special weapons including chem-throwers and Anti armour capability
>also bringing up-armoured Ogryn with flechette ammunition
>Seems like the whole point is to take the Ogryn on a walk to get them some field experience
>not keen on this since they are essentially stupid Imperator Jugend, just bigger with higher capability for destruction
>wish they were at least veterans so it would feel less like herding cats
>that is to say giant dim witted cats with the incessant questions
>advised they could be afraid in flight so they will be loaded into APCs for the duration of the flight
>advised they could be afraid of the dark so the APCs must have the lights on or at least have active glow sticks
>advised they could be claustrophobic and could eat the glow sticks, so some personnel are required to be in the APCs with them
>find out we are using PDF APCs so the Brigade can be ready to go off world even if some are lost
>find out said APCs are yellow
>it all makes sense now
>notice pudgy figure filing in to embark
>its the PDF from before
>wish I was a heretic so I could crucify me and be done with it
>be me, Nebemes
>Cryptek of the Kayra Dynasty
>slumbering in my tomb on a paradise world
>my personal chambers are near the top of our tomb, as a sign of my status
>awaken to the sound of our upstairs neighbors throwing a party
>Grab my Staff of Light
>Smack the cieling with the butt of it a few times
>"Turn it down or I'll come up there and kick your ass!"
>A few minutes later the rave dies down a bit
>grumble for a bit about how "War in Heaven vets don't get no respect from damn mortals anymore"
>go back to sleep
>Be mineself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>There is suddenly a great black cloud.
>If you tell me that it emanes from the cargo I would believe it.
>Anyway the pilot cant see more than five feet.
>I began to fear that we are going to
>Great we hit the command Deck of the cargo.
>Tell the pilot to press the horn and insult the cargo driver, for the traditions.
>It's important traditions.
>Like promising a captain of a ship repairs if he takes us to the Wonka's Headquarters.
>Willy is a very old acquaintance.
>Might not recognize me.
>But still could help "save" "culture" of this world.
>A radio message from the Hidden Opportunity tells me that the jokaero went on making tech again
>What bothers me is the yacht. And that big noise from a few seconds ago.
>Sounded otherwordly.
>Pretty sure that it's nothing to be worried of.
Just get creative and write a jab into post necessary to the story.
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>Be Captain Johnston
>Right, here's where we're headed
>We'll put into port here on Wonka Island until the storm's passed
>After all, I believe it is the destination on the manifest for the shipments of sugar and cocoa downstairs
>We'll head back to the mainland tomorrow when it's calm
>The noise of jet engines appears to be getting louder
>Still can't see the damned craft making it
>At least, until it looms out of the smoke right in front
>That is, until the thing connects with the bridge
>There is now a shuttlecraft embedded in the side of my bridge
>Well, at least the whisky bottle is still intact next to the helm
>Then the shuttle honks its horn at us
>I didn't even know they had horns
>What I presume is the owner jumps out, real fancy guy with a long nose
>I know that nose anywhere - didn't you used to make films?
>Says he knows Wonka and can get my ship repaired at the Island
>Good, because I was about to order you thrown overboard
>We were going there anyway
>Behave yourself in the meantime, else I'll put my very worst Castafiore opera CD on the tannoy.
>Oh, and the hole you just made is letting in all the smoke
This is fucking gold, got my ribs hurting
>Be Trish
>Getting real bad vibes about this whole situation
>A few hours ago, some crackpot claiming on being a rogue trader crashed onto the ship, and now he has the captain caught up in some plan to visit this Willy Wonka fella, but I get the sense they don’t get along
>Or maybe even worse, they do get along, everything I have ever heard about Wonka screams “dark forces” and “corruption”
>Go to the lavatory to ditch my glowsticks and smear some of the lipstick symbols on my shirt so they don’t look like anything
>Now look slightly less like a crack whore
>Ship is just about to arrive in port
>Go check up on O’Malley
>He is clearly corrupt, but also seems strangely loyal to me for some reason
>Knock on the door of his cabin
>Hear something along the lines of “Get out of my head”
>Step back from the door and a little to the side
>Spray of shotgun pellets punches through the door at groin level
>Well that could have hurt
>Maybe O’Malley isn’t so useful
>Slip off the boat while the crew are trying to find their spare anchor ropes after O’Malley ruined their best set during the escape
>Manage to sneak behind some warehouses without anyone noticing, or so I thought
>Bunch of orange skinned stunted fat men surround me
>Stare at me with dead eyes
>Then start singing...
“Oompa lompa, dippity do”
“We got a riddle just for you”
“What can’t be seen, but turns everything obscene”
“What gives you busts, and fills you with lust”
“What makes you hurt, and is still on your shirt”
“You won’t be droll, when she is eating your soul”
“Do what we do, and pay him her dues”
“Or he won’t rest ‘til she cuts up your chest”
“Oompa lompa”
>Still standing with a confused as fuck expression face when some creepy fuck in a purple suit shows up and introduces himself as Willy Wonka the 316th
>Getting real strong “Steve” vibes off this guy
>He flamboyantly welcomes me to his humble abode
>He then asks me if I found a golden ticket
>Then he says if I haven’t won a golden ticket, I am trespassing on his island, and need to pay a $1,000 fine or do 10 years of indentured labor at the casino
>Notice the Oompa Lompa guys are now grinning evilly
>Also now notice they are carrying a cattle prod, noose-on-a-stick, manacles, ball gag, an explosive collar, medical shears, and a large red hot brand with a W shaped tip respectively
“Actually, I won a golden ticket, but uh, accidentally dropped it off the boat”
>Then Wonka gives me a creepy as fuck smile, and hands me a golden ticket
“Don’t lose this one eh? Now these fine gentlemen will lead you down to the casino where the other contestants are waiting, sorry for the misunderstanding”
>Find myself highly doubting he bought my story
>Wonder what could possibly be worse than working for free at his no doubt sleazy as fuck casino
>Look down at my shirt, the lipstick I was smearing around earlier seems to form one of the symbols that the Happiness Demons are fond of
>The song...
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>Be Eleni Tywick
>Formerly of the Damnatum Lutum PDF, formerly a soldier of Karasseus of the Iron Warriors, formerly a captain in the 37th
>Servant of the Alpha Legion, Servant of NIERRRFLKUCH'SAKLM, Servant of Thypptyklpt, Servant of mighty Slaanesh and Tzeentch
>Arrive on Willy Wonka’s private island via the aptly named “Party Yacht”
>Direct the yacht to dock at the hidden docks Wonka uses for his most discrete transactions
>That idiot Commissar is still passed out on the bridge
>Pluck the golden ticket from his clenched fist
>Gather some of the more powerful of the creatures onboard the “Party Yacht” to accompany me to the meeting
>Chad, Steve, Kayla, Lahey, Clyde, Hiroka, three daemonettes, and a couple of ogryns
> NIERRRFLKUCH'SAKLM turns into an owl-like creature, and perches on my shoulder
>Willy meets me at the docks with some of his diabetic blob men
>Jokingly ask for my free tour before stuffing the ticket in his breast pocket
>Tell him that the experiments at Camp Xenos Purge, Camp Righteous Fury, and the Midway Airbase were resounding successes
>The pamphlets corrupt an estimated 96% of individuals that read them
>Tell him to step up production for distribution to the general public
>In return, Thypptyklpt will grant him demi-prince status
>Also inform him that some people who have arrived on the island may have uncovered parts of the paper trail
>They must be isolated and interrogated to see what they know and who they told
>Willy gleefully tells me he already captured one person off the boat
>Order Steve, Kayla, Lahey, and one of the daemonettes to go with some of the OMPA LOMPAs and see what she knows
>Order most of the rest of the boat’s occupants to come with me to deal with the intruders, though leave a few to guard the yacht and the Commissar
>Although seemingly a rabble, these followers of Slaanesh (and a few of Tzeentch) have grown increasingly strong and pliant to my will even over the last few hours at sea
>The followers of Nurgle and Khorne are also still in play, but for now have their own missions to fulfill
>Everything is going...just as planned...
>Wonka and his creatures depart, but one OMPA LOMPA stays, twitching uncontrollably, seemingly unable to resist breaking out into song
“Oompa lompa, dippity do”
“We got a riddle just for you”
“Who has a soul as black as coal"
"Who has a....."
>Make a gesture that causes his head to explode
>I hate rhymes....
God damn Triss, rooting for you
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I'm not
>Eager anticipation while eating chocolate.
OP here, haven't posted in a while because my PC died and I'm too busy to write it all on phone. I want to say you are all doing great on your own. If you want you can rp James, Brian, Dave, Tau commander and Tzeentch daemon until I repair my computer or when I stop being lazy.
Godspeed lad. I have an idea...

>be tau drone "granite A"
>attendant warrior uniform status: dirty
>reporting to ethereal...
>ERROR: deceased
>confirmation from warrior...
>response from warrior: denied
>reporting to local air support...
>response: do nothing.
>new protocols available for download from contact: "bird fren"
>new protocols available for download from contact: "horny single ladies in your area - free porno pictfeeds"
>new protocols available for download from contact: "papa's bootleg pictfeeds"
>new protocols available for download from contact: "DO YOU LIKE TO MURDER?!"

>Be Dirk
>Big boat stopped at big building
>Building smells like icky smoke, but also tasty treats
>Some guys and ogryns have followed this weird guy, saying he's "Alpha"
>Heard word before
>Gronk say he "Alpha" because he Bone'ead
>Dumb ogryns, that's not Gronk!
>Some people stay on the boat and don't follow him
>Obviously, these guys know that weird guy isn't Gronk
>About to ask them about weird guy, when I remember Commissar
>Go to color lady sitting on Commissar
>"Ecks-coose, uh, Excuse me miss color lady. Commissar not chair."
>Color lady giggles, bringing weird not-powerclaw up to her mouth
>"Oh? Is the big strong man getting jealous? Perhaps you could be my footstool if you feel that way~"
>"Dirk not jelly. Dirk ogryn. Dirk also need Commissar"
>"Well, then, perhaps-WHHOOOOAH"
>Grab color lady by not-powerclaw and throw her off of Commissar
>Help Commissar up as he coughs, and I hear a splash shortly after getting color lady off of him

Plz come back, Commissar Trent-anon ;(
>Be me, Bob the spy.
>Not a distinctive name, but that's good.
>Doing a little freelance work, on an open bounty that's been extant at least as long as the Imperium: infiltrate the the Wonka company's main compound and bring out secrets.
>Everyone and their governor will pay through the nose for this, apparently the guy is the latest in a long line of clones stretching back to the DAoT, all genius confectioneers. His secrets are hot like his chocolate, and the money I'll get for them is even more sweet.
>Now, they've been standing off spies since forever, to the point where I'm not even going to try to lie my way in. That seems to have been the favored tactic, but nobody ever comes out. There's even a whole "golden ticket" tour thing, but I think that's bait.
>There's no reports of someone sneaking in, and that's a good sign; means they're not expecting it, or even that it works.
>Attach my stealth ship to the hull of an intersystem trader to get in orbit
>Dress in my best camosynth
>Orbitally insert with a stealth-baffled shield
>Grav-chute myself straight into an open but empty transport shaft
>Promptly discover that the craft is *transparent*, not absent, by splattering myself across its surface.
>Be ded.
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>Be Lucius, your friendly Imperial Guard vox operator/Rogue Trader's Goon
>Me and all the other guard survivors accompany our new boss
>Hear some really spooky noise coming from down on the planet, feel like it's trying to say "WOULD YOU KIDS SHUT THE FUCK UP, I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"
>I still want to kill my traitorous brothers in arms
>Look around me
>Yeah, we ALL still want to kill our traitorous brothers in arms
>We crash into something
>"pls emperor, let it be your enemies"
>Exit the transport and secure the bridge like nobody's business
>Boss exit the transport with his more loyal goons
>hear them exchange greetings while the smoke around the boat start to creep inside
>That shit looks poisonous, it's rebreather time
>See a boat trailing pretty far beind us
>Check with my binocular
>I shoulder my lasgun
>"No way I can hit these vermins hard enough at that distance or hit them at all with the toxic fumes around me and the waves rocking this dying ship"
>Lower my weapon
>"No, not yet, but soon my precious, soon we're gona have this party and the divine wrath of the emperor is going to be making the music through this hellfire lasgun"
>Look up front, we're going toward some island with fancy looking buildings on it
>"The battle field draws near"
>"From the blasphemy of the fallens, our Emperor deliver us"
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Forgot as OP I was also Trent. Well I can't help but reward your effort with a post!

>Be me, Commissar Trent
>I think I'm the sickest commissar that ever be
>I've been ingesting so many drugs and remedies during the boat trip
>No joke I think I spent the entire boat trip vomiting in an effort to survive, my throat is so sore my voice fell a few octaves
>Not helping that the drugs made me unnaturally highly aware of what was happening to me
>Not gonna talk about my time with the daemonettes, anyone with a brain bigger than a pea can guess what happened
>Speaking of pea-brained Dirk's back again. He doesn't seem to understand the simple words "Help me"
>Well can't speak now, I've got my mouth... stuffed
>He then threw the daemonette overboard!
>I answer "Load the catapult!"
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>>Now that I think about it, there are more girls than I remember in this regiment
>Willy Wonka
>Be me, benevolent Daemonette of my most Merciful Mother, Slaanesh
>Slightly appalled a mass corruption was done so easily just with the thinnest coat of ecclesiastical paint
>Commissar is apparently Doomrider-level high
>Still, been having a fine time turning everyone into sexy ladies
>Even turned a serial micro-phallus and their flaming entourage into a Chaos Spawn
>They're much happier as Pleasure Flesh now
>Apparently this world is home to the mythical Wonkas, confectioners of fetishy legend
>And some T'au C'aus have landed, meaning things could get VEEERRY Blueberry
>In any event, chocolate!
'e's alive. I mena he wrote that didn't he, didnt say he died.
>be pilot Shas'ui leeyung again
>having sleeping problems
>found out that crash landing did more damage to me head then i believed
>"me head" wow it did a lot of damage!
>that fucking Piranha keeps diving over us
>my squad mates keeps asking me if he can give them a warning shot
>"don't, you will gave our position alway"
>Shas'ui oorege, a squad mate stops and turns to me "don't you mean "give not gave"
>i facepalm "just, move into the town"
>were now in control of this fishing town
>found a ship full of chocolate
>oh no!, order my men to send a drone out to commander Shas'O Myor, his eyes only, on what we found
>set my team around the ship and order and shoot to kill
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>Be Lucius your friendly imperial guard vox operator
>now on Rogue Trader protection duty
>We are docking at the island and are greeted by orange little mutants
"Oompa lompa, dippi-"
>Bob shot one of the little shit straight in the throat sending it's head flying up in the air
“W-We ... huh ... We got a riddle for you?”
>Says another one, nervously.
>The other little mutants receive the emperor's mercy just the same
>Call my new boss, while the rest of the team throw the little mutant corpses off the docks
>"Entrance Secured, VIP may enter safely, awaiting further instructions"
>6 guys take ground parrade salute at the exit of the boat waiting for Populus to come out
>the rest is overwatching for suspect or hostile targets
> blueberries mentioned
> that pic
now we're getting somewhere
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>be me, just spawned from the Norn Queen
>no idea where I am, looks like there are little men walking around my incubation tube though
>they're singing in unison
>I can see mommy across the room cavern (I guess I'm underground?) She's spewing out more of my siblings. The little men are taking them and putting them into other tubes like mine. They're labelled A-Nid, B-Nid, etc.
>See my name through the paper stuck to my glass
>Notice the little men exiting the cavern through a great glass elevator across from mommy...
>bez me
>da greenest nob around
>Da namez Rust-E
>da boiz callz me Bukkit
>be krumpin sum ummies
>diz is fun
>keep gittin krumped but mah mad dok is a good un e is
>be goin around on dis weird wata werld
>be angin with some bootaz for the time bein
>wez get on some small land
>seez a weird ummie buildin
>sneakin time
>oddboy puts sum goo on my armor
>ummies cant seez me now
>look thro some ummie window
>deres weird people inside
>tell da boyz dey got grub in dere
>time ta nab some gubbins
>ders a weird ummie makin
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>Be mineself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>Some of my men are getting angry at their old "collegues"
>I want to know first if they can sink this ship or damage the Hidden Opportunity.
>I would recommend caution as they seem to have demons on their yacht.
>Maybe we have a mortar or a heavy stubber in the back of the storm eagle if some "dissedents" appeared.
>Order a team of 3 men to protect the ship with the mortar and the stubber.
>The others will protect me.
>I see that the guy holding the vox already shot several...
>What are those things ? Mutants ? Xenos?
>Catch one, put my neo volkite pistol under his nose and tell him to take us to the Master of the island.
>He tells me that he is not there but that we can we wait at the manor on the hill.
>As we get to the manor we see the position of the yacht.
>It's could be sink easily with a few mortar shots.
>Tsut, Alain get back to the ship and bring the mortar here.
>No chaos here ! If the navy is here we will be bombarded !
>MFW They come back with the mortar, and ogryn holding a wasted commissar.
i knew neckbeardia would make a video on this thread
is it true that he's fucking his sister/lover?
Like the shitty audiobook of a discount novel.
Nothing wrong with that.
I swear to god if this thread gets ruined because of him.
it likely will enjoy while you can

Heard that fag's name mentioned before, but never looked at his shit until you posted it. Now I understand the hate for him.
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>Be Dirk
>Commissar finally able to speak smart again
>Commissar tells me to load the catpult
>I LOVE the catpult!
>Me and other lucky ogryns get to ride on it sometimes and get fighting for da Emprah faster
>Sometimes even the small guardsmen join us, too!
>Commissar tells me not to get on, and that this is a special mission that only they can do
>Fortunately, the catpult is here on the boat, so I turn it like he says and start rounding up people on the boat with us
>Some of them are mean and try to stab or shoot me, but I guess that's because they're grumpy about being left behind by the others
>As soon as I loud the first batch of folks on the catpult, commissar immediately launches them into the water
>Of course!
>They look weird because they can breathe underwater!
>Commissar is so smart to think of that
>Continue to try to load more soldiers onto the catpult
>Commissar looks like he has to push some others away because they don't want to wait for me to pick them up
>Wasn't many of them in the first place; only have enough soldiers for a few launches
>After launching the last one, go up to Commissar
>Commissar says some big words, but it sounded like he was thanking da Emprah for some "Sim-pul-tunz", whatever those are
>Must be tasty commissar treats
>Remember Gronk
>be me, Betty Noire, daughter of an idiot
>also a soulless wretch according to everyone I ever met
>seems Father finally got the guts to be rid of me, but not enough to kill me
>brought me to this stupid casino and must have planned to lose, to sign me over to cover his debt
>fuck him, I hope he rots
>must have told someone about my "creepy aura" because the little orange freak that came to get me mentioned something about the room not letting me bother other guests
>well fuck him too, and this room, and everything else
>I'm getting out of here, not like my new owner is going to want me around anyway once he meets me
>and these idiots actually ran fuseboxes down here
>let's see how many breakers I need to trip before someone comes to fix it and opens the door
>would you look at that, this one is even marked North Dock, sounds like a big deal...
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>I am, by the Emperor's Grace, Sister Superior Kathrien Sylune of the Adeptus Sororitas, in command of the Celestian Squad 'Burning Mercy'.
>Without bragging, I have been featured on the cover of two Sororitas Monthly pict-mags, and once posed demurely for the centerfold of a third.
>I still think they should have left the flamer in the shot.
>I carry a secret shame; once, while on joint maneuvers with the Imperial Guard I got the ... *ahem* posterior region of my power armor wedged in the gunnery hatch of a Baneblade.
>It certainly was not the result of improper control of the jetpack; I simply mis-timed the jump that would have planted me firmly on the Baneblade's roof.
>It took half the crew (giggling for some reason the *entire* time) to dislodge me from the hatch.
>Under threat of plasma pistol, we all agreed never to speak of it again.
>I have been asked by my Mother Superior to investigate and inspect the 37th Imperial Guard Regiment.
>I am to liaison with Commissar Trent, inspect the troops, and investigate rumors of orks.
>A fairly standard mission in a fairly standard sector of space.
>I expect no trouble.
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Oddly enough, the video inspired me to write more even if it's a chore to do it on the phone, heck it even gives me the impression my writing is good and I'm grateful for that. Also thanks to everyone for contributing, you're making it great!

>Be me, Dave
>Leader of the Victorious
>Or rather, what once was the Victorious
>We sank a ship and had fun
>But it also turns out nobody knows how to pilot a ship
>Neither swimming apparently
>Well some of us did, but it's useless during a storm
>So we did the only logical thing
>Yeah, we killed each other
>The Angel does not care from where the blood comes, only that it flows
>Still won though, I ain't bitch-made
>Got more skulls for the collection
>I'm missing a few chunks of flesh... I hope those useless fucks haven't ended my fighting days
>Out of boredom I opened crates inside the ship
>It's all chocolate
>I hate chocolate
>Wait... what is that sound?

>I laugh out loud
>If my followers were a little more patient, they could have been getting some
>I stand up, bleeding like a gutted fish, smiling like a madman
Buncha fags bitching about Nerds on youtube

Fucking gay

Bitch harder
>Shuriken Catapults: Solving 800 to 900 problems a minute.

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>Be Captain Johnston
>Ah, that slimeball is finally off my ship
>The crew are looking for the spare set of mooring ropes
>Idle the engine and sit down
>As the cloud of smoke slowly clears, the damage to the ship emerges
>The deck light poles are completely smashed
>The communications antenna is snapped at the base
>The vehicle lifting crane has a big dent and is bent to aft
>The navigation and weather radars are nowhere to be found
>The deck and superstructure is covered by large pieces of debris
>And then there's the literal shuttlecraft in the room
>What did that horrible, half-witted hooligan do to you, my old lady?
>Good thing he's paying for repairs
>For him, that is
>Hmm, that yacht is still following us
>It ducked out to somewhere nearby
>Eh, if it causes trouble we can just run it over
>The shuttle still wedged in the bridge probably has a weapon on it too
>In any case, now I can put up my feet, have some whisky and a cigar and relax
>Head off the ship to find somewhere to stay during the storm
>Trust me, harbours are deathtraps during a powerful storm
>Grateful they have big arc lights everywhere, the sky is very much darkening now
>The first fat splots of rain start to fall as the wind picks up
>Then, suddenly all the lights go out like someone pulled the plug
>Why do bad things happen whenever I leave my ship?
>Be me, Larry
>Chovo-slave to Mr. Wonka
>Been having nightmares for weeks, same as most on the island.
>Apparently I'm the only one to start getting migraines too.
>Went to my hiding spot today for a quick nap.
>Very vivid nightmares of things I'd rather not remember.
>Something about boats.
>Wake up with a brainsplitting migraine.
>Overseer catches me slacking on the job and starts berating me.
>Migraine gets worse.
>Overseer thinks I'm trying to ignore him by covering my ears and starts beating me with his Wonka-issued "fun stik".
>I scream. The pain stops.
>OH fuck.
>Overseer's everything is splattered everywhere.

I dunno. Feel free to adopt this guy.
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>>Chovo-slave to Mr. Wonka
Is he a lompa?
>serving on a farm world
>eating corpse starch
>on a world dedicated to food
>a farm world deemed important enough to have an actual contingent of guardsmen and not just pdf

This is absolutely the dumbest thing I’ve ever read
anon the planet makes chocolate bars. the same kind of shit planetary governors buy in bulk. it will be expensive as shit. five months of pay can only buy two bars.
Up to you to decide.
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>Be me, Guardsman James
>Kept you waiting, huh?
>Here comes the first good news
>I took a shower
>I know, impressive, right?
>For real though, we've spent so many months fighting orks on land and sea and we barely had any time for rest or basic hygiene
>Well some tried their luck with the ocean, but the heavy currents, stormy weather (dry storms we call them) and underwater predators made short work of them
>You know, now that we're cleaned, it's the first time I take a good look at my comrades
>Brian has the appearance of a classy old man... except he's in his thirties. Pretty sure he was homeless before joining the ranks and gaining enough money for his "hobby"
>Lenny is exactly what I imagined he would be like. Built like a coghoy (pre-upgraded phase), but being a soldier gave him some muscles. Like a skeleton in shape
>Without the clothes I can see that Charles is balding and a little overweight. He talks shit but he's far from better than any of us
>Emile still looks like a twink... well I guess even more after a shower. He could use more muscles. If Lenny was able to get some, than nobody has an excuse if they don't get as fit. He also got blonde hair like the commish, which is pretty unusual since almost everyone on the planet has really dark hair. Well at least his skin is tanned like ours, unlike the previously mentioned commissar (really pale compared to us)
>As for I have some scars (like a big one across the nose) and a silly haircut. Half spiky towards the front, half bald. All because Steve shot his lasgun next to my face during an ork raid... it still hurts
>Some of the other runaways already went back on the planet with a new mission
>We're about to go too, we're just waiting on Colin
>I'm pretty confident in our task
>With our new carapace armors and hellguns, we're actually better equipped than most military units in the entire Imperium... I think?
>Be me, Guardsman Matt
>Always get the defective gear in the regiment
>One day Commissar gives out pamphlets to everyone
>Everyone else's has questions about which guardian angle best suits them
>Mine has questions asking if blue is the best color for astartes and if its OK to wear the skins of sororitas as holy objects
>Everyone seems to be acting strange but for me only my neck kinda itches and I can hear some faint chanting no one seems to here.
>eating corpse starch
They are probably on the Munitorum's shit list, they didn't seem particularly competent even before the corruption occurred

>a farm world deemed important enough to have an actual contingent of guardsmen and not just pdf
We don't really know much about the wider picture on the planet, could be there to clean up some remaining orks after a major military operation, and/or could be there because the planet is near T'au Space, and the local PDF aren't fully trusted

Also, I think you are vastly overestimating how valuable Guard are to the wider Imperium. For every elite regiment like Cadians or Catachan, there are dozens of B-list regiments only moderately more competent than the typical PDF formation. You can easily fit a regiment or two on a ship heading to the agri-world for another load of produce
>be me, Smasha da Basha
>jus got me new trukk
>avvin a roight gud toim krumpin umies
>cood use sum mor dakka tho
>mah ol pal, Goppa da Proppa Choppa, taps me on da shoulda
>oi, where’d all dem umies go???
>ah stop da trukk an hav a lil looksie
>dere’z lotsa noise, but wherz it comin frum???
>it’s comin frum da umie camp?
>ang on a sec
>get back in da trukk and smash da gas
>issa bit’v a slog, oi yell up ta Big Bazza an ask what ee can see
>pparently, da umies r busy killin each uvva
>da greedy gitz! Wot, iz we not gud nuff for ya now? Oi oughta giv em a piece a moy mind afta oi rip dere eadz off
>itz gotten kinda quiet... if dey fell asleep, I swear ta Mork
>da umie camp is... empty? Afta sum lootin, we run into one datz chained up an cuvered in blud
>sayz dey read sum leafy thing, an went all weird loik.
>begs uz ta let ‘im down, dey left him behind, so ee wants to go afta an rip em apart
>tell da umie we’ll cut ‘im lose if ee tells uz where all iz boyz went
>Explainz how dey all left in a big boat a while ago...
>all dat gas, and oi didn’t even get a foight
>worst zoggin day uv me life
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>Be Trish
>Hanging around the casino with the other contestants
>Definitely a mistake to come to Wonka Land to hide, as I was marched from the warehouse to the casino, it became abundantly clear that almost everyone on the island aside from a few guests is either a slave, or one of those Oompa Lompa things
>Here in the casino, oompa lompas deal the cards, mind the bar, and provide security, while “Wonka Girls”, young women wearing nothing but purple top hats, high heels, and forced smiles, wait the tables and deliver drinks
>Willy Wonka’s face is everywhere; slot machines, posters, tables, plates, paintings, carpeting, and always with a different, but usually rather insane facial expression
>Apparently this is the “less exclusive” of the hotel’s two casinos, but still out of the price range of anyone who isn’t a senior official, successful businessman, or minor nobility
>Also present are forty or so “contestants”, finders of a golden ticket
>Aside from the free tour, and lifetime supply of free chocolate, the winner of some sort of contest will win $100,000,000
>Naturally, no one knows anything about the nature of this contest, or if they are, they are being very tight lipped about it
>Paranoia levels are pretty high, five contestants have gone missing so far, rumor has it someone is eliminating the competition
>Some executive assistant type woman comes and finds me, apparently there are still outstanding questions about whether I actually found a ticket, or just bluffed my way onto the island
>Not good, I have a feeling I know what will happen if they decide I am trespassing, and I don’t think a purple top hat will go well with my hair color...
>Get led to a large room by the executive assistant woman and some oompa lompas
>Everyone stands around while I take the only seat and fidget nervously
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>Then four figures file into the room, each unique, yet nightmarish to look at in their own way
>The giant in blue armor, with a poster of a guardsman attached to his face identifies himself as “ALPHARIU-cough-I mean Trooper Lahey, a perfectly normal trooper with a hormone imbalance which caused me to become very, very big” – does he really think anyone can mistake him for a common trooper?
>I recognize the woman as Lt. Kayla Ryerson, senior aide to the Colonel of our sister regiment the 38th, champion brown-noser, queen bee, and attention whore. She looks more or less the same, except her eyes are glowing pink, and she is acting like she has never worn clothes before, and perhaps never intends to again. She identifies herself as “Kayla the Lustful” – if the corruption has spread to other regiments we are more screwed than I thought
>The other “woman” is a purple skinned, red haired, horned figure, though each time I look at her, she looks a bit different. She identifies herself as “Sensualla” – looking at Sensualla makes me feel very, VERY, warm
>And then of course, there is Steve. Steve has added a few more limbs, a lot more tentacles, and many, many more malformed sexual organs. There are several faces on various parts of his body, suggesting perhaps that he has been absorbing people somehow. Steve’s various mouths can’t seem to make noises other than pathetic mewling sounds, but I recognize him thanks to his remaining visible tattoos, and the fact he introduces himself as <Steve> directly into my brain – looking at Steve makes my insides squirm, in a bad way
>Steve touches my forehead with the heel of one of the shapely feminine legs growing out of his forehead
>I scream as I feel him violently ripping through my memories
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>I think he is supposed to be looking for memories related to the paperwork O’Malley showed me, but he also lingers on any “private” memories, and fills my head with all sorts of vile images and suggestions
>Black out at some point, and wake up in a puddle of my own vomit
>Sensualla is telling “Lahey” that I know nothing of value, but that she is curious as to why the corruption didn’t fully take hold
>Sensualla and “Lahey” leave to rejoin someone called “Elena”, while Kayla and Steve say behind to continue the interrogation, along with three oompa loompas and the executive assistant woman who is now looking a bit queasy
>Kayla drags me off the floor and back to Steve, where he is waiting with his “brain leg” posed for round 2
>The heel touches my forehead again
>And now I am standing alone, in a realm of perverse beauty, pain, and pleasure...
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>Best I make my introductions then before one of the more interesting mortals is rendered a gibbering mess
>The fact that the Spawn formally known as "Steve and Friends" still has any sapience left after being turned into a jiggling pile of orgasm meat is a concern that can wait
"Are you ok dear?"
>With her mind in the Warp like this, it will hopefully be easier to calm the poor guardswoman
>Conjure a comfy loveseat to sit in and beckon her to join me
"Looks like you've been through a hell of a day, why don't you come here and tell an old secret keeper all about it?"
>Be me.
>Shas la Sa'rah. Joined by the perpetually vocalizing Shas'la Bec'key.
>Holy frakk my eyes hurt. Must be coming off the stimms, or on the stimms I don't know at this stage.
>Honestly amazed I haven't blacked out. Could also be the G-forces at work.
>See a bunch of our battlesuit brethren after an indeterminate amount of time.
>Never quite sure what to think of them. Parts of my brain are shouting back and forth at each other that they're flyboys, no they're nerds, no they're badass', no they're all gay, no they're just normie's.
>Eh whatever. Do a bunch of 'fly over, strafe the enemy, fly off' maneuvers.
>Unfortunately, no enemies, and after a couple swoops I remember fucking Bec'key's too out of it to fire anything we have. And I can't remember if I can take fire control from my seat.
>Do a couple more swoops to show off how fucking fast we are, and to try and ask if one of them wants to fuck sometime, but admittedly, they probably didn't get it over the wind.
>Fly off, and I feel Bec'key start trying at the clasps on my armour.
>Turn around, she's got her own chestplate off, and's in her bodysuit. Again.
>Eventually have to land the piranha, MY piranha, because even I couldn't concentrate on driving enough for me, while also fending her off.
>Possibly because while I was shoving at her helmeted face, I took us through several vertical twists, managed to somehow stall the thing, nearly fell out, and had to grab Bec'key by the hand to stop her falling out at all.
>By the time I get down, Bec'key's already out cold.
>Put her armour back on her, and sit her in her seat, strapped down. Again, she's a weird bitch, but she's my bitch, and bitches take care of bitches or what holy shit my skull.
>Drugs must be wearing off now.
>Go for a more stately drive at about 130kph.
>See what looks like an Orca.
>Follow the Orca.
>Don't crash into the Orca.
>Orca looks weird. Got fancy white and gold bits.
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>Orca sets down in large open area with some shit in it.
>The entire front opens. Don't remember Orca having front hatches.
>Am also coming down from a lot of drugs, so that's also a thing.
>Finally manage to catch up though. Did I come this way before?
>A bunch of people in weird compact battlesuits get out.
>Don't recognize the make or variant, but holy frakk I recognize the lead one.
>They might all be wearing battlesuits and look a little more bulky, but I'll recognize that posture, that unfairly good body shape, especially those fucking tits, anywhere.

>Be me, Slaaneshi Daemon, true name is physically unpronouncable by mortal tongues, so I answer to Unelmoida, which roughly means "daydream".
>Honestly one of the more benign and moderate Daemons.
>Mostly only dangerous in the way that gateway drugs are: I encourage people to explore.
>That's not what I'm here for though.
>There's a Malice Daemon on the island, for one.
>Also, this Trish seems to have one foot in Slaanesh's realm without falling completely, which is curious.
>I can practically smell her, and I follow that scent.
>I smile, conjuring a velvet lounge chair as I approach the pair in the warp, wearing one of my more common guises.
"I hope you don't mind a passing fancy joining you."
>A greeting suiting both my relative power (or rather, lack thereof), and my nature.

did the chaos gods just accidentally create 4 brandnew emperor-connected angels?

Not entirely sure. Might have.
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>be me, K-Nid
>notice mommy's trying to catch my attention
>all of a sudden alarms go off
>little orange men running around in a panic
>"oompa loompa doopity daw"
>"someone has gone and broken the door"
>most of them hop into the great glass elevator and head up to what I presume is the surface
>after they're gone suddenly hear screaming from mommy's direction
>little orange man disappears into mommy's mouth
>she swings around and smashes D-Nid's tank
>my brother is now free, and goes around smashing open every other Nid tank, including mine
>feel a strong compulsion to join my brothers, as if we are all of one mind...
>remaining orange men shriek in terror as my brothers and I prepare to harvest them for mommy
>pic related
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>be me
>Guardsman Marvus
>sitting at base camp
>nothing interesting ever happens round here but at least its quiet
>see Steve walk by
>fuck that guy
>something falls out of his pocket
>looks like some kind of rainbow candy
>might as well have it. not like that cunt deserves whatever it is
>wake up unknown amount of time later
>location: unknown
>definitely underground but warp if i know where
>feel around my pocket and find a pamphlet
>cant read the fucking thing cause high me in his infinite wisdom decided to doodle all over it
>looks like i drew a black and white skull surrounded by the number 11 repeated a bunch
>turn the pamphlet and see its got the word "chaos" printed on with an eight pointed something under it
>high me had some fun with this side as well
>the words "DEATH TO" got written ontop of the chaos bit
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>be me
>still Marvus i think
>exploring surroundings
>looks like im in a cave
>its strangely eerie
>like every single thing in the universe wants to get as far away from this place as possible
>good, less people to piss me off
>see a light at the end of the tunnel
>am i dead? i hope im dead?
>nope, not dead
>reach the end of the tunnel
>come to a massive clearing
>pic related
>i am WTFing hard
>boots frozen to the ground, i cant move from this spot
>whatever it is begins reaching out to me with a closed hand
>hand reaches me
>hand opens and reveals a bottle of amasec
>confused i take it, grateful that my soul didnt get ripped apart and turned into a slushie
>chill here with whatever this thing is whilst drinking
>dudes pretty chill and pretty quite
>needs a name
>i think i'll call him mally
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>after dealing with what we believe to be all of the orange people one more steps out from the shadows
>he's orange, but he has three arms and a ridged brow
>feel a connection to him, as if he's a long lost brother
>tells us that he's been waiting to meet us properly, but that it shouldn't have taken this long
>says that long ago he was able to bring mommy here to harvest the world, but that she was somehow captured by the cunning Chocolate Master
>he has had to stay hidden ever since while they kept her imprisoned and farmed her offspring as guinea pigs for chocolate testing
>now apparently there is something going on at the surface which is providing an opportunity for mommy's vengeance
>take this all onboard and start preparing for what's to come

gonna need some new material to work with before I can move this one along lol
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>Be me, Commissar Trent
>I think I'm feeling the Comedown, Rebound and Crash all at once
>Ain't no medical expert, but I can guess I won't survive the day without medical attention
>Dirk wants me to help him find Gronk
>By the time we'll find him I'll surely be dead
>"I got an idea, Dirk!"
>"I am very sick, so I'll need to find an infirmary, or an hospital, and get treatment... and for that I need you to carry me to one."
>"I'll tell you the rest of the plan when we get there! If you manage to succeed and we survive this mess Gronk, I'll request more Ogryn buddies for you to have!"
>"Now get to it, good boy! I have a shiny pin... I mean medal, that just awaits for you to deserve it!"
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>did the chaos gods just accidentally create 4 brandnew emperor-connected angels?
Are you so arrogant to think the Gods of Chaos, whose domains permeate throughout time and space, would not have benevolent Daemons formed from more wholesome emotions, rare though they might be?
Such hubris!
Who else would have such interest in the Chocolate-producing tropical island world?
I shall turn you into a slightly less sexy lady for such foolishness.

I would certainly back an uprising of the oppressed workers and beasts of the Factory...
...For a price.
>Gods of Chaos
>benevolent Daemons
that's funni
>Be me, Choco-slave Larry
>Been running for some time.
>Schizoid conspiracy brain starts putting two and two together.
>I'm a psyker.
>The nightmares are from demons.
>The nightmare feeling hasn't gone away since I woke up.
>I can feel them all around me. Distant, but there.
>They keep telling me to draw wagon wheels for some reason.
>Nope. Not gonna listen to demons.
>I pick up a few other thoughts.
>> Psychic screams from the casino, along with strong feelings of... everything.
>> Unholy mental static from the basement.
>Fuck no.
>> Distant "-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-!"
>No idea what that is, but I'm guessing that the planet's fucked.
>By the Empreror, is there nobody sane left on this planet?
>> A small group of people near the docks. Nothing major coming off them.
>Sure, why not?
>Worst-case scenario, I die, and at this point it'd probably be a blessing.
>Alarms haven't been sounded yet. Weird.
>Reach the docks.
>Almost shit myself when I see a hulking demon strolling along with a miserable-looking commissar in hand.
>Oh, never mind. That must be an Ogryn.
>Overhear commissar ordering the ogryn to take him to a hospital or infirmary.
>Imperial training vids kick in.
>> "Remember kids, if you meet a commissar in need, be sure to aid them in any way you can!"
>I approach them.
>"Hey! You're looking for a-uhh... somewhere to heal up? I know a few places."
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>Still me, Commissar Trent
>I was having doubts if an Ogrym could find an hospital, even with me on his side, but I was desperate
>Lucky for me a menial just appeared
>"Then think of the best place right now serf, because I'll be needed on the battlefield real soon... hopefully I can salvage the situation before it degenerates even more."
>With a little luck if I heal fast enough I can contact >>79458059 before she meets the troops herself... I don't want to think about the planet's fate if the Ecclesiarchy or the Inquisition investigates without my presence
>Almost mechanically I reached my pockets to grab some happy pills
>Luckily the bottle was empty
>Someone must have nicked them off from me... or they made me ingest them all during the boat trip
>Well I have more pressing matters
>How can I manage to convince the coming Adepta Sororitas to eradicate the summoned daemons, the traitor guardsmen and the orks without condemning the entire world?
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>Be Kayla the Lustful
>Actually be Eleni Tywick
>As a result of her exposure to the Light of the True Gods, Kayla developed minor telepathic powers, which among other uses, allows me to control her actions and abilities when needed
>The creature "Steve" is a powerful telepath in his own right, but lacks a certain finesse
>While Steve projects nightmares directly into the mind of the woman known as “Trish”, I probe her subconsciousness, looking for the reason for her seeming immunity to the touch of Chaos
>To my disappointment, it seems like the reason is similar to the others I have interrogated, when the pamphlets fail to corrupt a subject initially for various reasons, it bestows a certain amount of immunity to the touch of Chaos
>No matter, those like her are not completely immune, enough exposure will eventually wear her down, until then she is not worth my attention
>Interesting, it seems one, maybe two minor daemons have entered the twisted psychic conglomerate known as “Steve”, and are trying to communicate with the Trish woman via him
>Recognize one as the entity “Unelmoida“, one of our allies in this venture
>Too busy to negotiate with daemons right now, the situation on this island is spinning out of control rapidly, and I need all my best assets with me to protect the pamphlet production facility
>Expel the daemons out of Steve and into the body of Willy’s assistant Caladora, who is still lingering in the interrogation room for some reason along with a few of the oompa loompa creatures
>Whatever message the daemons have for Trish, they can communicate it via Caladora
>Grab Steve’s leash and leave the room in order to head back to wear the rest of my forces are awaiting orders
>>Actually be Eleni Tywick
>Ah, so that's why the being "Steve" isn't a passive blob of tits and tentacles right now, their Spawnhood was hijacked by some Alpha Legion stooge
>She tries to shunt the two of us Daemonettes into a host, despite clearly having enough Chaos mojo going on for us to freely manifest
>Let our newest arrival have the body as a courtesy, I'm probably going to need the mobility of non-corporality to try and salvage this situation
"Ugh, looks like a Tzeentchian bitch is going to get the whole planet blown-up... And I don't think any of us have actually had any Chocolate yet!"
>The best place I know of is Mr. Wonka's own personal medbay, but if I were to take him there-
>"Remember kids: when it comes to serving high-ranking members of the Empire, never settle for less!".vid
>Yeah, but from the looks of it, the Commissar is in a rush, so my best bet would be to take him to an OMPA LOMPA care facility for a quick detox-
>"NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS".indoctrination
>Fuck, fine.
>Notice the Commissar is looking at me funny.
>Realize that I've been talking to myself out loud this entire time.
>"U-um, ri-rightthusway, Sir Commissar."
>Start feeling another migraine coming on.
Whoops, forgot the
>Be me, Larry the Choco-slave
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>Be Dmitri Pletisov
>Guard Dmitri to you
>One of the many guards of Wonka's island.
>Not sure what he expects us to guard against. Pirates? Chaos? Slave revolts?
>I hear the rumours about what goes on in there, not my problem
>Just stand around with my autogun and don't ask questions
>Today, we're patrolling the road around the main casino compound
>Oleg is next to me in his APC - say hi, Oleg!
>though come to think of it, how come Wonks gives us APCs but not even lasguns?
>Ah whatever, don't try and understand how he rolls
>Our boss is a nutter
>Oleg's also sitting pretty in his vehicle as I'm out here in the rain and wind
>Lucky bastard
>The lights in the port in the distance suddenly go out
>Tree probably fell on the wire or something in this weather
>Lights go out in the casino, and then the manor on the hill
>Something fucky is going on
>Radio squawks, it's the Sarge on the line
>There's a lot of cursing, but the gist of it is he thinks there's something up with the generator
>Want us to go and investigate for any "saboteurs"
>Well, he should probably send an electrician, but fine enough
>The power generating station is dark inside, gives off some bad vibes
>Generators are still running, must be the fuses
>Anyone in there? Come out with your hands up!
How do we save a thread with full size images?
I think most threads go to 4plebs automatically, and a lot of these threads also get saved on sup/tg/
>Be mineself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>We set up the mortar on the front of the Wonka manor and began bombing the yacht.
>The commissar is carried by an ogryn and guided by a peon
>The peon seems to be in pain and he ask me to enter the manor
>"Do I look like the owner ?"
>Feel a headache, I don't see any psyker...
>Is that the kid?
>Look around quickly
>There seems to be several leman Russ and wyverns patrolling in the streets.
>It would be better if they don't saw us.
>We could go to the casino or break into the palace next door.
>Why? you ask, commissar ?
>Because, Wonka is a massive cunt that happens to be the most powerful man in the system!
>Kroshspiell one of my guards tell that the casino have a lot of weird guardsmen going inside.
>It's not like we shot around a dozen of them and put their yacht on fire.
>So we will settle for the palace.
>After a quick recap and some communication with the cargo and the HO, we have saved : 3 crates of chocolate of all kind, some iodine, a crate full of silver ingot (with a third going to the captain) and a small box of spices of all type. Meanwhile the HO crew will prepare a rai- an expedition to get promethium.
>Not a bad day at all...
>Let's get inside the palace hotel, the rain getting more violent.
>The concierge of the hotel is surprised to see us but he give us the suite.
>Nothing less for me.
>Order a doctor for the commissar and the kid with him.
>Grabbing the concierge I ask how many personel there is here.
>He respond to me that they are roughly a hundred.
>Order him to get out of here, for his sake.
>That's a witness that I will not have to kill. Great.
>As we get to the suit we encounter several lost and damned that we promptly take care of.
>The suite itself offers a good point of view on the island and the casino...
>Maybe we could *Break* the bank. Litteraly...
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>be Betty, still trapped
>been awhile since I hopefully shut down the docks
>time to look for what else I can flip to get msintenance down here
>weirdly, other docks aren't on any of these breakers
>looks like mostly older parts of the facility
>original stuff before it expanded maybe?
>whatever, I kill power to Lower Offices 1 -6, Vending Cluster A, the Cantina and Warehouse 2
>maybe that will get someone down here
>time to go wait by the door again to slip out when someone gets here
>Betty, almost back to the door
>some guy with a gun comes in, barks orders
>probably going to shoot me on sight
>this is my life.blank
>okay hands up it is
>so sorry officer, I'll fix the breakers, just tried to follow some orange freak's rhyming directions and got trapped in here, needed to get attention over here fast
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>Be Dirk
>Commissar say he need "medcle" help, and then we can go find Gronk
>Also say Dirk get shiny thing and more ogryn
>Trying to remember where I heard the word "medcle" before when suddenly weird small guy come up to us
>Says a bunch of words, but Commissar says follow him because he knows where find "medcle"
>Come across some guys in fancy clothes and equipment
>Them and the weird guy say big words, but eventually tell us to follow them inside the big building
>Good timing; it was starting to rain
>Mutter to myself "Dirk no like rain"
>Place is super fancy and shiny
>Admiring the place, when I am snapped out of it by a guy telling me to put the Commissar down on bed
>White robes, metal arms, funny eyes, floating skull...
>I know what this guy is!
>He's one of those "doktors" that fix everyone up!
>Drop the commissar on the bed, and hear a groan come from him
>Fucking whoops
>Fanciest guy of the fancy guys tells me to give the "doktor" and commissar some space, and to stand guard at the door
>Tells me that the weird guys with spikes and weapons are bad guys, and to not let them in here while fancy guys go out to beat bad guys
>After they go off to serve da Emprah, it's just me, weird small guy, commissar, and doktor
>Weird small guy tells me his name is "Larry"
>Tell him that me Dirk
>Larry is pretty smart
>Whenever bad guys are coming, he tells me where they're coming from before we can see them
>He even gave me a food bar, saying I was hungry, right as my stomach grumbled
>Called it "Choc-late"
>Tasted really good
>After killing some of the bad guys, notice a piece of paper on his person
>Pick it up and ask Larry to read it
>He said it hurt his head without even trying
>"Dun worry, Larry. Words hurt Dirk head, too. Try read words, but can't. Too hard"
>Get back to watching for more bad guys with Larry
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>Be me, Magos Biologis Ignis-Five-Zero
>Prime Investigator of the Prefecture Magisterium, food safety division
>Have been investigating this world for several months due to unsafe saccharide levels in many food exports and strange instances of biological contamination
>Some incidents of menials ending up in the production line is to be expected, but this is far too consistent a problem for supposed luxury goods
>Eventually tracked down the contaminants to this factory, which apparently does not employ a single known Mechanicus Adept
>Cog-damned amateurs, at least the condemnation order was easy to get


>Have prepared a strike team to snatch any important documents as well as the factory owner before the sterilizing team arrives, but it appears that several third parties are muscling in on my investigation before we can shut the facility down
>Multiple ships, shuttles and a surprising quantity of guard-quality armour are arrayed around the facility, apparently with multiple conflicting IFFs
>Preparing to breach what plans say is the facility generatorium area when power to several levels of the facility flickers out
>Must be other hostiles
>We were going to burn this place anyway, but I want my damn data first before some other jurisdiction gets it
>Screw it, go now, we have the muscle and the aerial extraction is on call
>Breaching charge carves a neat circle out of the wall of the generatorium and my half-dozen Magisterium tech-guard charge in
>Instead of the expected Arbites squad or Ordo Hereticus operative, see one unaugmented girl and some hired gun
>Ah well, at least it's not a fight I'd have to put on the paperwork later

>"On Mechanicus authority, all organics freeze!"


Has it really been two years? I still use the really nice city maps from that one sometimes.
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>Be me, brother Freddius of the Blood Ravens
>am sneaky beaky like
>so much an entire planet still haven't realized me and my battle-brothers have landed near the factories
>we are currently on the lookout for gifts
>we decided to split up to cover more grounds and find donations
>Daphnael, Velmor you come with me! We'll look where that Rogue Trader went. Surely he is generous enough to share what he has found with us!
>Shaggius, you take our latest present from the Iron Snakes and look inside the casino!

>We shadowed the Rogue Trader for a while, and just when we were wondering what to pick from him we saw a nearly unconscious commissar carried by an ogryn >>79471290

>While the doctor was operating on the unconscious commissar I looked at his gear
>He has his commissar coat and hat (with smiling faces instead of skulls, interesting), a laspistol, a power sword made of a blue metal, warp-infused glow sticks, an heretical pamphlet, empty pill bottles and a recaf mug (written on it is "Best Commissar")
>We argued about what we should take on the comms, we settled one item each
>I lied and took the mug and the hat
>Daphnael lied and took the laspistol and empty bottles
>Velmor lied and took the glow sticks and the pamphlet
>I can't be mad at my brothers
>I realized we didn't take the sword
>Shame, but we'll surely find it later. For now we must follow the Rogue Trader for goodies and chocolate!
>Also gimmeyerhat!
It started in June '19 and ended in Jan '20, so maybe not quite that but it feels like a lifetime already. If this series goes on for a while and a world starts to take shape you bet I'd draw another map for that. By the way, I've got the original layered .pdn file for the city map around if it'd be useful for whatever you're using them for.
I can have a pretty good guess who you are
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>Be Lucius your friendly imperial guard vox operator
>Doing side job as rogue trader muscle
>New boss ask if we can sink the ship
>"I'll carve a hole with my knife if I have to"
>He says they have a demon
>Rethink my answer for a bit, geting close and personal with something like that is probably a very stupid idea
>The worst you can do to this creature is probably just climb up a fiew names in it's shit list
>Sensing my hesitation Populus says "Ofcours! indirect fire support my lad!"
>End up leaving a fiew guys on ship with heavy stubbers while we take a mortar up to a creepy looking manor
>Start shelling some heretic monsters, traitor guards and their boats
>I wanted to kill them mano a mano
>oh well I guess long range mortar fire will have to do
>Grab binocular and start to give fire solutions
>Occasionally the orange little mutants will show up, get in parade like formations and start to walk toward our defensive line while trying to ... dance? ... make a diversion?
>I don't know, my guys take the shots and drop them like flies when ever they show their faces
>I personnaly drop the binoculars and start shooting only when I see a familiar face coming up the hill
>See old commissar in charge of base in the arms of an ogryn
>"Ohhh thank you my emperor"
>"For incompetance in your line of duty, I sentance you to de-"
>About to squeeze the trigger and kill my old commissar
>New boss spots him and start talking
>"Alright nobody do anything stupid, we can still kill him if we make it look like he fell down stairs or hit his head on a very sharp door knob"
>We move to the palace next door
>Start to secure the place room by room while the more loyal rogue trader's goon mark supplies and goods to be "evacuated"
>The place slowly start to be more and more noisy
>Some familar faces we can kill start showing up
>Some more mutated then others
>They are unorganised and more interested in chasing the locals then fighting back
>They fall easily, it's almost disapointing

Yeah, didn't make it hard. What can I say, I have a type in 40k roleplays. Map file would be much appreciated, I'm splitting it up into cells and the players are doing assorted guerilla ops so the street layout is sometimes very relevant.
>be me, Betty-About-To-Get-Shot
>big explosion, duck and cover
>chunk of the wall is missing, robot guys coming in now
>I mean okay, I "get along" better with stuff that isn't people, usually, but these guys aren't the usual toaster or vehicle I'm used to
>wait, isn't there some machine order that serves the Emperor or something? Are these them? Why are they here?
>whatever, stay still, fifty fifty chance they shoot me instead of rent-a-cop anyway
>Be kitchen menial 5g843e56832
>Stuck in the cantina on Master Wonka's tour.
>I have seen it ALL: people swollen and blue get rolled through, crab nightmares made of chocolate, children who accessed the warp through a voxscreen, thin leatherclad spiky xenos, attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.
>Poor Orion- even a carnifex isn't meant for that kind of punishment- he ran off into the inner jungle and they say he lives there still, wounded and enraged.
>I'm pretty jaded with it all by now, but even here, there are sins, and if mine were known they would pack more pain into my body that burst even Orion's frame.
>I have fallen into the heresy of Mars.
>I layer caramel into chocolate.
>Ah caramel, the sweetest sin. If Big Wonks didn't want me to fall, he shouldn't have shown me his own depravity. How can I be held to standards when he plainly is not?
>It started small, the knowledge that a 5-star chef has more than equal to the browning of saccharids. The rebellion excited me.
>Right now, I have caramel stock hidden under the tacky tiki floorboards, for the pleasure of myself and the sous-chefs who have followed me.
>All is well.
>Mfw the power goes out, then surges when it comes back on.
>The stash is on fire.
>I can smell it.
>The hounds can smell it.
>They swoop in- cybermastiffs on grav wings, armed with lasguns.
>Nothing escapes the master.
>They fire at everything- they'll continue to do so as long as they smell that which is forbidden.
>Mfw they spread the blaze.
>An expanding ring of caramel-scented fire is only exciting them to new frenzies. As they proceed, the candy jungle caramelizes, spurring them again to new extremes of destruction.
>I can only pray that something will be left of the cantina when this is over, because I know there will be nothing left of me- I'm on fire too.
>Be ded.
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>Be Guard Dmitri
>There's a girl in here!
>That's right, hands up bitch
>You're coming with us
>Hmm. Wait a minute.
>I'll be honest, you don't look like a corporate espionage agent
>What's a girl like you doing in the basement of the generator block?
>Got sent the wrong way by a Loompa, you say?
>Ehhhhh, that's actually somewhat understandable
>Nasty fuckers they are, always messing with people
>Once one of them tried to send me on a "shortcut" through the latrine pit
>What do you think, Oleg?
>Yeah, my thoughts too.
>I'll give you the benefit of the doubt young lady, but if I catch you in here again, you'll probably get shot.
>About to call it in as water dripping on the wires and offer a ride to wherever when the wall explodes
>Take cover next to a transformer, Oleg dives behind the switch bank
>It's the.....Mechanicus?
>Figures, someone was messing their blessed machines
>If they've come to kill us, I don't fancy our chances
>Stay very still, their vision is based on movement
>Be me Severus McGillen of Therona III, fourth born son of a governor from the distant hive world Therona III
>Got one of the golden tickets, after the house staff has sifted through 3 shipments of Wonka chocolate bars (each consisting of 10.000 bars)
>Travelled to this backwater farm world to visit the family and aquire the recipe to produce this chololate on my homeworld
>Have sent my house servant Gaius on a misson to get the recipe, haven't heard of him in the last three days
>Now sitting in that damn casino, at least the service is nice

>Other ticket winners seem paranoid... say some other ticket winners have gone missing... I don't care. I want the recipe and I'm out of here
>Place is kinda creepy... with those orange singing mutants

>One of the contestants, a female gets take away by some kind of security guard
>Was she also here to get the secret of Wonka's recipe? Has Wonker found out?

>Drink some chocolate milk to calm the nerves. It's a strange place here...
>Saw an Ogryn carrying around some Guard officer

>Wonder when Gaius will come back?
>The sooner I leave the better...
>Be me, totally-not-a-psyker Larry.
>The past... hour? Half hour?
>The time between leading the commissar to the hotel and the present was a bit of a blur, to say the least.
>Most of it consisted of me trying to hide my headaches from the pompous pirate guy.
>I don't remember when he left, but soon it was just me and Dirk left outside to guard the room from any crazy cultists headed our way.
>Luckily, we always had the drop on them thanks to me.
>Unfortunately, the more cultists Dirk killed, the louder the whispers got.
>>"Blood and skulls! Blood and skulls!"
>>"Joke's on you, I was just pretending to be surprised."
>>"C'mon man, I was just trying to spread joy and happiness."
>>"Aww, I was *this* close to-"
>The pamphlets scattered all over the halls definitely weren't helping.
>Dirk asked me to read one and it almost gave me an aneurysm.
>It was some kind of quiz thing, one of those "which X are YOU?" types.
>As soon as I started reading the questions, the whispers became a roar.
>Definitely demon stuff.
>I collect all of the pamphlets and put them in a pile.
>I don't have anything to light it up.
>Wait, can't psykers do stuff like light things on fire with their minds?
>"Remember kids: if you see someone doing strange things like breathing fire or shooting lightning from their fingertips, run immediately to the nearest government official and inform them of potentially witnessed heresy!".propaganda
>Alright. Things are going to the Warp in a wickerbasket, so now is as good of a time as any to start learning how to do psyker stuff.
>I squat in front of the pile and make like I'm trying to set it on fire.
>Close my eyes.
>Whispers get closer, jumbling my thoughts.
>I need something to help me focus. A mantra, maybe?
>Think back on the old scriptures we were taught to repeat.
>"The Emperor protects, always and forever."
>The voices chuckle and jeer. I ignore them.
>"The Emperor protects, always and forever."
>"The Emperor protects, always and forever."
>As I repeat these lines, I feel the whispers fade away with a hiss, until there's nothing left but me, the Emperor, and need for fire.
>I feel a force gathering around me.
>I focus it into my pointer finger.
>Just as I'm about to release it, >>79472022 a squad of space marines suddenly burst out of the commissar's room.
>The fire turns into an arc of lightning, blasting the fingernails off my right hand and scorching my fingertips.
>I scream in agony.
>The space marines pay no mind, striding past me without a second thought.
>At least I got a fire started.
>Dirk asks me if I'm okay.
>"Mmmmyep. I'm fine. Just, uhh... I just hurt myself trying to start a fire."
>Explosions and gunfire rumble throughout the building.
>"At least that's not happening here."
>I look at the corpses piled around us.
>"For the most part, that is."
I went and opened the file and holy fuck, how did I make this with such a Byzantine set of layers? It's a mess, and most of the time I've put the labels directly in one of the dozen other random layers and directly overwritten the street grid for them. I've hugely cleaned up my methods since then (less and more logical layers), but it looks like I unfortunately don't have a clean Groxbridge street grid to hand. Here it is anyway if you can still get some use out of it https://pastebin.com/vDiW1PwT (link to file is in the pastebin because the spam filter is being retarded).
I got some Argo Brigade posts coming, but I am getting caught up first.
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>be me, medium deamon of khorne who has his shit together to a degree
>chillin' in the warp gooking birds
>at least i have my flesh hounds to help kill the bastards and they're cute
>then, see a tear in the warp not big enough for me to enter
>take a peek on the other side
>what the fuck is happening?
>man i'm missing one hell of a fight but the tear's not big anough for me
>it seems the slaughterlord has a foothold in there and some of the jarheads are still not dead now if i just influence a follower of the "angel of victory" whatever the fuck that is to drw me a gate of blood and skulls the barrier MIGHT just weaken enough for me to litteraly kick it open
>let's get to work
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>be Peace Keeper Nicholas
>we couldn't just do an orbital drop to the LZ because of the potential for interception
>this meant we had to fly low and fast
>that in turn meant we had to deal with an incoming tropical storm
>which meant we had a long flight to the drop zone
>a long flight spent sat next to "Kevin" regaling me with his life story
>consequential to this long flight the Ogryn needed to be kept occupied
>colouring books were distributed, however some of the Ogryn ate their crayons
>accordingly other methods of entertainment were devised including paper craft from said colouring books
>Ogryn being Ogryn meant that this activity was only partially successful due to dexterity of those involved as well as running out of paper, which was partially due to ingestion of said paper
>to that end the Ogryn were encouraged to engage in vocal games such as "I spy" and "Shiritori"
>Ogryn being Ogryn meant that this activity didn't last long as it was too demanding and lead to arguments about what letter "gun" ends in and accusation of cheating over continually guessing the "something yellow" was an APC
>hence the Ogryn were encouraged to sing
>though it got off to a rocky start with singing patriotic songs things started to go amazingly well as they began singing children's songs
>things actually went too well and the Ogryn picked a favourite song due to ease of lyrics and improvisation
>The song was "The Wheels on the Bus"
>Or should I say, the song IS "The Wheels on the Bus"
>they have been singing for hours
>we have already landed and set out in convoy and they are still at it
>therefore I am wondering if I should take a cue from the Ogryn and eat the contents of a chem-thrower canister

I want to be more active but I am sick and sleeping a lot. I wrote up a few more posts for Nicholas but have been sort of dragging Kevin around. If someone wants to take over Kevin feel free. Just know he's getting dragged for about 3 more posts then gets a ticket.
>Be mineself
>The Great Rogue Trader Rastar Populus
>Yeah I think we have a chance of breaking in if we are carefully and discreet enough
>Round all my men, the psyker, the ogryn and the commissar who is in underwear...
>I'm not gonna ask what happened.
>Anyway I need a big speech
>Gentlemen, I know what you want !
>The money of the casino, it's chocolate and a fight !
>Half of you will come with me in the maintenance tunnel to find the vault and break in.
>The others will distract the casino by purging the Chaos filth inside. I know you can do it and that some of you want it.
>I know that outside is turning into a warzone, so people will look for a place to hide like the vault
>So we just nee*Stomp*
>Stomp? Only a space marine can make that noise?
>Open the suite door only to find a red space marine with gold on him and a commissar hat!
>A blood Raven if we could find an agreement the plan could go smouther and everyone could be happy!
>My lords we are preparing the greatest heist in the sector, I am sure that you would like to partake in such enterprise with a company such as ourselves, no?
>He seems interested
>What's more is that he agree with the plan, even calling his squad?
>This will probably be the peak of my carreer.
>So as I said we just need an employee of the casino to locate the vault, and good entrenching spot for the second team
>Gentlemen choose your team we will begin the greatest heist of the history of the system in one hour!
>be pilot Shas'ui leeyung again
>the fish fucks found out about the chocolate on the ship
>tell them too "back off"or we will fire
>"chocolate" "CHOCOLATE!!!!"
>plasma fire begins roiling the fish fucks apart
>their still not giving up, the hell!?, them fish fucks were pacifist faggets that would say sorry over and over if they bumped into you
>now they fight just as crazy as the kroot
>one of then make it close to my cockpit and starts banging on the armour plate screaming
>threw him back and use my flamer to burn him alive
>can still hear him scream "chocolate"
>what feels like an hour pass and we've pushed them fish fucks back
>still no contact from commander Shas'O Myor
>ask the Piranha pilot Shas la Sa'rah to keep an eye out for anyone getting to close to the port
>he's screaming "FUCK JES'SICA!"
>no not her, fuck my life!!
"Image limit reached" god damn it and I have the perfect images.
Like this image https://1d4chan.org/images/7/70/Argos_Grenadier.jpg

>be Peace Keeper Nicholas
>as the convoy snakes through the country side we come to check point
>seems like some sort of private security outfit
>security asks us our business but seems a little strange
>"Recon of potential Ork movement"
>he tells us things have been pretty quiet as far as he knows and then comments on the weather and suggest we are wasting our time
>humour him and tell him I wish we could pack it up and head back shit rolls down hill and we can't comeback without intel
>he seems to be suppressing something
>I then ask him if there is somewhere we can get more information so we can be gone quicker
>this seems to put him at ease and after a retreating for few minutes in his guard station he comes out and gives us directions us to a local outpost
>we arrive at the small compound and are greeted by its head of security who has been expecting us
>he suggests that before we get to work we stop for lunch in the mess hall
>it is about that time and it will get out of the rain, save rations, and lets us investigate the premises more thoroughly so I agree to the suggestion
>the lunch special is chili
>the guys seem happy to be getting fresh food
>I am happy the Ogryn cant sing and eat at the same time
>though I would be happier if Kevin wasn't sitting right next to me, and wasn't able to talk and eat at the same time
>I try to block out most of what he is saying by running over hypothetical anti-PDF propaganda campaigns in my head and just enjoy my chili
>That's when Kevin notices the pamphlets that were all face down on the mess hall tables
>"Hey, what's this?"
>he opens it up in the mid section and reads aloud
>"If you had to be an animal which would you be?"
>"A) An Icrotic Slime"
>"B) A Carnodon"
>"C) A Mimic"
>"D) A Stenchbeast of Strank"
>"E) a mix of all of the above"
>"Man, I don't even know what some of these are. Oh but I bet you do. You've probably see all sorts of different places while you-"
>glance over and immediately notice the exterior of the pamphlet
>look around room
>some of the guys haven't bothered to look at the pamphlet yet
>others are also silently looking around the room
>I slowly but forcefully push pamphlet on to the table and out of his hands as I lower spoon full of chili and spit out a mouthful into a napkin
>confused he says "W-What? Hey, why d-"
>I interrupt him staring into his eyes with a look that could melt flesh or pierce armour
>he shuts up and freezes in place
>lock eyes with some of the guys and start to put on my rebreather
>casually every Argive of the platoon begins to mask up
>I prime my weapon and Kevin seems to finally clue in
>some PDF still don't seem to realize
>they will soon enough
>I turn on my amplifier
>I stand up and shout


>be Peace Keeper Nicholas
>the mess hall is well... a mess
>well... most of the compound is actually
>the guys are mostly alright
>the PDF are a little shaken
>the Ogryn are a little cranky having not been allowed to finish their meals
>though they are happy they got to play a new game with the security forces that made it
>"Pin the heretic to the cross" - Fun for mental ages 4 and up!
>Garbage Status: lining curb for pick up
>the security forces that didn't make it though...
>interrogating the head of security while some of the guys investigate whats left of this place
>he didn't want to talk at first but a light spritzing of flesh melting chemicals got his lips moving
>apparently there is heresy on this planet
>he really doesn't know much, but does know that the ones responsible for the pamphlets are his employers
>he then begs me for mercy claiming he isn't a heretic and that he just joined the security forces for money and a better life, and that he didn't know what his employers were planning
>I actually do believe most of what he says
>you can really feel it in the desperation in his voice and the little body language he can manage with flechette rounds nailing him to a cross
>so I tell him I will be merciful as I pick up a mess stay and begin writing, and then ask him his name
>"Oh thank you! Thank you! Matheo; my name is Matheo! Emperor bless you! Thank you so much! Now please..."
>tell him "Yeah, just one second..." as I finish writing
>I then hold the mess tray to his chest and look to the Ogryn standing next to me
>"Chonk? Would you please, and thank you?"
>Chonk smiles and Matheo then struggles and cries out but is cut short by a flechette puncturing the tray and his heart
>"This is Matheo, he and his comrades were found to have disregard for resolute worship of the God Emperor on Mankind as well as a deficiency in the will to resist heresy.
>I turn to Chonk and tell him "Chonk, I'm proud of you and all the other Ogryn for being such an extra special helpers today."
>He smiles widely and says "Thank you peas-keepr Niklis"
>I then tell him "Oh your very welcome Chonk! And do you know what extra specially helpers get? SWEET RATIONS!"
>he stares blankly at me
>"CHOCOLATE! Now go tell all the others Ogryn to get in the yellow APCS if they want some!"
>he cheers and runs off
>*sigh* kids...
>Well shit, I think this is our newest deployment
>be me, marauder of khorne, getting ready to kick the door to the material realm open
>it's time
>litterally Boots the portal open
>victory boys are in awe
>demand a sitrep AT ONCE
>i WILL know what the fuck happened and what's going on ASAP
>in the meantime some of them start giving me names like "oh great angel..." blah blah blah blah, boring
>it's actually quite annoying
>decides to do something about it
>as soon as the scrawny moron say a title i don't like i grab him by the neck and lift him to my eye level
>as i am stearing into his soul i yell
>he starts babbleing incoherentely
>turns to the rest of them, at least tehy look like proper soldiers
>they all nod furiously
>good, time to wrangle them back into mental shape, after all we're not a bunch of degenerate sex pests
>they do so
>ah, just like the good o' days as a drill sargent, i miss those days, can't do anything with deamons, to unorganised by nature
>i get my report, FUCKIN FINALLY
>have the reporter do the same as the rest of the jarheads
>look the report over
>immediatly pop a blood vessel
> all the soldiers have finised the pushups by the time i'm done with the report
>turn around slowly to look at them
>they all nod
>rage is stored in the head and i have a fucking headache
>Be Lucius, your frien-
>Vox operator an-
>We are on defacto rear guard duty stoping enemy from entering the maintenance tunnel
>Still being more imperial guards then rogue trader we gave protection to every noncombatant we could on our way out
>New Boss call and says he need a diversi-
>Diversion, while he go and loot the casino
>Start a speech about it and ask on what team we want to be
>Team casino or team diversion
>Wow we never been asked anything before, it's usually (do that or I kill you) we unanimously decided we liked the new boss
>Contact him with the vox "Sir, I volunteer me and my men fo-
>"For diversion, we already caught their attention I think"
>Take a look down the tunnel and see a huge steel giant loaded with looted stuff
>huh, okay that's new.
>"We'll seal the tunnel beind you and push them back inside the palace!"
>"into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell!"

>be Peace Keeper Nicholas
>after gathering what intel we could and using the outpost's comms to try to contact the rest of The Brigade on a secure channel we all load into the APCs
>we head towards what seems to be the HQ of this island, a sort of confectionery manufactorum and get away for the wealthy
>hopefully the "Ork activity" cover story works long enough for us to cripple the enemy and get some backup
>Kevin seems to be over the initial shock of our last engagement and is now prattling on about subjects such as how he "always knew there was something no quite right here" and ask if I think he will get a medal, presumably for both not dying while also tactically shitting his pants
>come to think of it he seems a little too energetic
>as a matter of fact the Ogryn are also behaving somewhat oddly
>no singing... but a sort of focused rocking...
>I turn to a fellow peacekeeper and ask him if he notices this behaviour
>"Yeah, I don't know. Sugar rush?"
>with that Kevin bolts up and digs through his chest config and pulls out a golden slip of foil
>"Oh yeah they chocolates great! I even won! I don't know what I won but I got this ticket! This ticket says I'm a winner and I need to go to this place and-"
>I take the ticket and read it
>the location it says to go to is our current objective
>well at least it might help us avoid suspicion
>I go into my pack and open up a ration and find the chocolate
>I put a piece on my tongue and taste nothing abnormal
>then I bite into it and make a damning discovery
>this chocolate is smuggling almonds
>whats more this chocolate is full of marching stims
>that explains Kevin's behaviour
>then it hits me
>the Ogryn are eating the chocolate
>the Ogryn are eating the chocolate laced with stims
>the gigantic weaponized murder children are coked up to their eye balls
>that's when I tactically shit my pants

That's all for now. Kevin is officially free if anyone wants him, if not I will try to keep him around. The coked up Ogryn are also free, and here is the 1d4wiki for the article about the Argo Brigade which links to the threads on their creation if anyone fancies writing one but needs context https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Argo_Brigade
>more nodding
>one of them raise his hand
"what about the beauty and knowlege worshippers, sir?"
>no question
>as they all go i put my hand on the scrawny one's shoulder
"exept you, i need you thelp the summoning"
>he cried, pissed his pants tehn shat and came
>i drop him
>puts my fingers in my mouth as i wisle for my hounds
>the hounds appear out of tiny red portals
>aren't they the cutest?
>instruct them to get in the tower and murderise everyone that worship the knowlege one as well as ripping to shreds any psycher they encounter
>the hounds set out
>ah, you just need to prove you're stronger then them consistently and they will follow you until someone overpowers you
>truly as the slaughterlord intended
>moves to the hangar
>hmmm, a couple of thing are missing but not an irreplacable amount
>start ordering the scrawny one to help ne draw a ritual circle
>a while after we get our firct crucible deamon here, i then promply order him to get to work viar punching his face
>he follows my command
>meanwhiel the rest of the soldiers make a big pile of weapons and ammo
>after that i order them to mount a perimeter and defend the place intil we are ready
>some of my hounds came back with some skulls
>good boys
>fine additions to the slaughterlor's collection
>and now?
>i make a lot of noise so that we can funnel the purple degenerates into the killzone
>this is going to be FUN
>Be Willy Wonka the 316th
>Well fiddle dee fiddle dum fuck this shit
>Spent the last twenty minutes reviewing security footage, and have come to a number of alarming conclusions
>Number Four Cantina is on fire since some idiot was stashing caramel under the floorboards
>The lights in the casino/harbor district are turning on and off since some idiot locked one of the contestants in the power control room
>My old buddy Rogue Trader Rastar Populus has shown up with a bunch of armsmen and started a shootout in the harbor before taking over my summer palace/private medical clinic and linking up with some Guardsmen that Elena brought with her to the island, but apparently weren’t completely corrupted yet
>Also he has a Space Marine with him now
>Looks like he is going to make a move on the casino
>Though he perhaps doesn’t realize that a small admech strike squad has breached the casino ahead of him for unknown reasons
>And rumor has it the Sisters of Battle are poking around some of the sites where we tested the pamphlets, if our buddies in the Ecclesiarchy are compromised, our whole distribution network is fucked
>And of course, to top things off, some xenos in Laboratory Building Three’s have escaped and are on a rampage
>And one of these occurrences could be dealt with easily individually, but taken together, there are too many loose ends to tie up, the authorities will be all over this if they aren’t already
>Order some oompa loompas to start gathering some pamphlets and disassembling the printing presses, we will start smuggling them off the island via one of several discrete routes, and restart the operation on another world I have holdings
>Order more troops to the firefights at the casino and Laboratory Four, update Eleni on the situation and recommend she divert some of her best assets to these areas as well
>We can still salvage this
>I just wish I was tormenting a small child or something instead of supervising this shit show
>Be Grandpa Nurgle
>I love my family
>I love every grandkids I have
>I also love having more grandkids
>Notice a sudden expansion of the number of kids on a farm world
>This planet almost exclusively produces chocolate
>Remember Isha loves chocolate
>I got an idea!
>Mortals have yet to make my favourite chocolate flavour: Swamp mites (picked from a carcass and fill with delicious fluids), 100 years old pus and excrement aroma
>Slurp, I can feel the rash on my insides and outsides burn in anticipation
>Ask my new grandkids if they want to become chefs
>Ask others if they want to be delivery men
>Sharing is caring!
>I'll share my gifts with everyone!
maek new thread op keep this going
Well I could copy paste the OP, but if someone can shop a Willy Wonka hat / chocolate factory / tropical background I'd be happy to let him start the thread! Also someone should archive it on sup /tg/
At least wait till we're pass the bump limit, this one has a good 25 post left...

HA HA, Khornecobb can't into Triforce!
Sooooooo, do we put an early end to the thread? Like commenting what we liked and disliked... or we could just wait and bump the thread when it reaches page 8-10 until tomorrow morning? Cons for the former is that most writers wouldn't be present for the new thread (including me I guess). Say nothing if you agree with the latter plan, and bump when needed.
I vote early end, the image limit kill a bit of the fun
I'm not sure we could carry a second thread that far. While it was a fun oneshot, the setting seems a bit of a cul-de-sac plotwise and I don't really see Archipelago evolving into the kind of grand saga that Stercus Ludicrum or Damnatum Lutum had even if we all hopped over to a second thread.
Well I think we could do another thread just to finish the story, but I think I halfway agree with you... for other reasons. I think the problem is that we lack new blood, and we take so much time to post more, we can't go to the same lengths as those two.
I think we still got decent momentum, Damnatum Lutum threads often took 1-2 weeks to hit bump limit, and we had a lot of new characters added just today
i just wish the thread gets a proper ending. the last thing i want is for the story to remain unfinished or for it to have an anticlimactic ending like an inquisitor blowing the planet up.
I think we have the new numbers as well as the core of recurrent RPers (I recognise at least three posters here from Damnatum Lutum) and remember, it's early summer now and that means we're entering the annual greentext primetime when all the students have no commitments. If one prompt fails, start another later and something will snowball. Very open-ended ones that let people dive in doing whatever they want from the start or have a fun scenario with broad appeal tend to be more successful at attracting new people from what I've seen, YMMV.
Yeah, we still have momentum and I think we have the critical mass of people to sustain it, but we're all boxed in on an island and don't have a big map available for people to run around and get up to their own shenanigans which is where the best stuff happens.
For the record, I think we should start a new thread anyway (I'd love to be proven wrong), and immediately go from this one to the next since breaks disrupt momentum especially for transient posters.
I say same as this
>Yeah, we still have momentum and I think we have the critical mass of people to sustain it, but we're all boxed in on an island and don't have a big map available for people to run around and get up to their own shenanigans which is where the best stuff happens.
We actually have several distinct locations where stuff is happening

The T'au, Orks, and Khornates are all at a separate locations, and people are free to add new stuff either to the island, or elsewhere on the planet

>Be me, Magos Ignis
>Squad has
>Gesture at the nearest rent-an-enforcer and a servitor reaches out and snips his rifle in half, gesture for him to get down
>Auspex shows multiple lifesigns in the regular passage routes, usually small, so we'll take the maintenance corridors
>Girl looks broadly harmless, but we can't exactly send her out there into a warzone and we do probably have the biggest infantry guns around
>Tell her to stay behind one of the breacher servitors as my second in command releases the scout servoskulls and the squad forms up, suborning the more visible of the security cameras as we go to watch our exit
>About three minutes of striding down corridors and popping the small mutant workers with galvanics later, we realise our facility plans appear to be hopelessly inaccurate
>Server room has either been moved or someone thinks their files are worth hiding behind a cartoonishly large vault door and a corridor full of bunkers
>I liked that scout skull
>Oh well, time to find a datalink and do some more boring cracking
>Set my 2IC and a few of the breachers to looking for weak points in the encryption while the rest of the Skitarii find firing positions in case some of the rentacops aren't as distracted as they seem


Much obliged anon, this is much easier to work with than the smaller images I was using. Now I can do a big table-centre map.


I also vote new thread, can't hurt.

ah fuck

>Squad has secured the entry point with a minimum of fuss, but it sounds like the surface has turned into a proper warzone
>Archaeopter pickup has gone radio silent for fear of detection, but are on call for a lit strobe
Got to say as OP I'm really proud of what we've done. Unfortunately for me I got late to join the collabs (in one I was rping a merchant ork boss and Neckbeardia ended the series with me blasting the planet I think...), but I'm glad with what we've got. Since I'll post a bit less because of my lack of PC, I'll be happy with either finishing next thread or expanding in mores and break out of the island setting. As long as we have fun!
>Yeah, we still have momentum and I think we have the critical mass of people to sustain it, but we're all boxed in on an island and don't have a big map available for people to run around and get up to their own shenanigans which is where the best stuff happens.
I post a shit load in world building threads but only ever post short throw away things in these sorts of threads. That said I tired to have a bit of fun while also being cautious by introducing some characters and their factions (Nicholas and Kevin) and give them reason to be drawn toward the epicentre of the action as a means of staying relevant to the main story while also potentially furthering the plot. However as you said the setting, while focused on the island, is actually the entire planet and apparently Wonka is the most powerful man in the system which means there is potential to even expand to other planets.
>apparently Wonka is the most powerful man in the system which means there is potential to even expand to other planets.

"With the Wonk gone, what will happen to his candy empire?? Who will maintain the jawbreaker mines? What will happen to his legions of abhuman oomph loompas?"
Alright, how is this for the intro thread for the next thread? I also put together a picture, it is a sign saying "Welcome to Wonka Land" but with Wonka Land crossed out and "Hell" written in. There is a guardsman in front looking worried, and a tropical coast in the background.

>Be Planetary Governor Pininas of the tropical agri-world of Archipelagia, chief exporter of chocolate and chocolate derivatives for the entire sector
>For the past two years we have had several Imperial Guard regiments on the planet to deal with a persistent ork infestation in the equatorial islands, but I suspect they are actually here since it has become known that the T’au have approached several noble houses for trade deals, and now the loyalty of the entire world is suspect
>As if I would betray my loyalty to the Imperium for sweet, juicy, blueberry pie
>Well jokes on them, I have received reports that several outlying Guard bases have been tainted from within by the forces of Chaos
>The center of the corruption seems to be the island of Wonka Land, home to the chocolate factories and plantations of the eccentric trillionaire Willy Wonka the 316th, one of my key financial backers, but purchased loyalty only gets you so far
>I have dispatched teams of Guardsmen and other specialists to assess the situation at Wonka Land, as well as the rumored T’au crash site, ork freebootaz camp, and Khornate stronghold on neighboring islands
>May the Emperor have mercy on our souls if they find what I think they will find
(continuation of the previous chocolate and corruption themed thread)
>"With the Wonk gone, what will happen to his candy empire?? Who will maintain the jawbreaker mines? What will happen to his legions of abhuman oomph loompas?"

>>Be Planetary Governor Pininas of the tropical agri-world of Archipelagia, chief exporter of chocolate and chocolate derivatives for the entire sector
Thing is, I think we made Wonka the Planetary Governor already...
Looks good to me
>"With the Wonk gone, what will happen to his candy empire?? Who will maintain the jawbreaker mines? What will happen to his legions of abhuman oomph loompas?"
I mean
Nice, feel free to start using her whenever, in one post I imply that there are several squabbling clones active at any given time

>Thing is, I think we made Wonka the Planetary Governor already...
I kind of forgot about that post when I started writing for Wonka, and being Governor doesn't really jive with how obviously a secretive nutjob I wrote him as. Maybe we should just make a post somewhere explaining that the mention of the Governor on the golden ticket is some sort of endorsement by the Governor, and Trent just confused it with the Governor owning the factory. Or maybe Wonka is a provincial governor by virtue of the fact he owns the whole province, but Trent doesn't realize/remember provincial governors are a thing on this world
Well funny thing is that I planned for Trent to lack knowledge in many subjects... all explained in due time!
>I imply that there are several squabbling clones active at any given time
was it this one>>79418797

also, does anyone have a name for this series? the first post was nameless
>Or maybe Wonka is a provincial governor by virtue of the fact he owns the whole province, but Trent doesn't realize/remember provincial governors are a thing on this world
This makes more sense, combined with the fact there are several clones like you mentioned:
>I imply that there are several squabbling clones active at any given time
Wonka clone brother hold such positions throughout the system, giving them effective ownership while using the Planetary Governor's as pasties.

Still, the plan for the Fem-clone is to reprogram and decant her after dealing with Triss...
yep, it says brothers, but he could easily have sisters as well, and just not think any of them would challenge him due to misogyny or whatever
>yep, it says brothers, but he could easily have sisters as well, and just not think any of them would challenge him due to misogyny or whatever
Yeah, she's just suppose to be an empty vessel, a plaything for Wonka...
Which makes her the perfect vector to introduce SLAANESHI SOCIALISM!!!
>The Choco-Rush Saga
>The Wonka Wars
>My Drugged Commissar Gave Us a Heretical Pamphlet, Now We're All Fleeing From Chaos Cultists
Battle of Mellicus Corruptela? (Sweet Corruption)
The Conspiracy on Archipelagia?
The Archipelagia Heresy?
Chocolate Flavoured Heresy?
Trouble in Paradise?
Murder on the Orient Express?



New Thread is up!

(sorry, went with a different name since no one had replied to me prior to posting)
>and just not think any of them would challenge him due to misogyny or whatever
Personally that's a little bland unless you go over the top for comedy, however horseshoe woke is all kinds of comedic (and infuriating irl) in every intensity.
I don't know, not trying to make a political message, he just seems like a rape-y, creepy sort of guy who is probably too busy fantasying about the female version of himself to see her as a threat
How you just explained makes it sound like it will work much better than at first glance. I wasn't try to message either, its just hearing the sort of brief character summation of the previous post has the mind go search for similar examples and inevitably arrive at cringe worthy messaging.
I guess we will deal with it if Wonka and his sister ever interact
I posted as Dave in the new thread, and I'll be heading to bed! Hope someone archive the thread on sup tg, also wishing you all good night!

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