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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>Be me, Guardman Dave
>It was all going to well
>My regiment has gone trough three succesfull small campaigns quelling rebelions or fighting small ork waghs
>Get assigned to our first big campaign
>Some new jungle deathworld colony named Y'Es Pronounced Why-us is in trouble
>We are sent there with several other regiments to help out
>Emperor save all our souls
>This place is a nightmare
>Massive jungle world covered in Swampy mud jungles with trees the sizes of small titans, toxic deadzones all over the place, with the wildlife that seem like they have crawled out of a mans deepest nightmares.
>Why is this planet even being colonized
>Half of our regiment got wiped out from the planets hazards
>Saw Poor Jimmy Get chomped in half by a massive man eating plant, Kreg Sliped off one of the giant branch bridges into the mud swamps below and we never saw him again, Rachel got torn to shreds by a massive mantis bug thing,etc.
>And that wasnt the worst of it
>The planets tinsy problem is a Tyranid invasion, a space hulk orbiting the planet constantly raining roks on the planet
>And as i thought things couldnt get any worse i hear a extremely loud noise
>Mayor earthquakes, green lights, xenos skeletons
>Emperor damn this planet
>Whichever administratum fuck sent us out here i hope your gellar field fails while in the warp
>Currently me and the now dead squads demolitions trooper kyle are stuck in a bunker carved into one of the giant trees here
>May the Emperor have mercy on our souls
>be me, guardsman Deker.
>get assigned to new campaign as vox operator for some colonial.
>Valkery sucks an Ork into engine on the way down.
> Crash hard into bog trees and live.
>colonial gets lucky and dies in impact.
Get vox backpack and look out window around.
>See's other guardsmen in other trees, starts yelling over to them.
>be me, guardsman timmy
>be on gay jungle planet, cant remember the name
>autocannon is love, autocannon is life
>Robert got eaten by mud sharks
>fool didn't use his canned napalm
>see some guys scooting around in rafts towed by mud sharks
>such is life
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>Be me, Catachan Buck Chadrock
>This place is great, just like home,
>be making some ripper stew in the burnt out skull of a necron warrior
>Some dumbass Cadian in a Chimaera comes driving through the trees screaming about a Trigon.
>Just like home.
>be me, guardsman George
>me and the boys are assigned to some bog world
>my turn to clean the mess hall
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>Buck Chadrock
>Bossman decides we have to bail out the panseys, and makes me round up the rest of the iron chewers.
>Kind of fire our guns into the trees randomly on full auto for a bit.
>Kill half a dozen gargoyles and an assload of termagaunts doing that.
>Suddenly the earth explodes in front of us, hundred meter long Trygon ripping out of the ground and roaring in front of us.
>Order comes up for us to pull out our knives and supress it in melee for the flyboys.
>I love the smell of blood in the morning.
>be guardsman named dick
>squad gets captured by deldar in a real space raid
>get cock and ball tortured to death by some goth bimbo
Im calling bullshit, Tyranids and necrons are never in the same place.
>be me, guardsman timmy
>half my squad drowned in mud
>such is life
>be lonely
>rest of squad got swarmed by orkz
>managed to get out of there with my autocannon and three ammo boxes
>eat mud sharks for dinner
>drink mud for coffee
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company “Tracka’s Marksmen”
>god this place reminds me of the forests on Kansas
>huge, lush, and full of orks
>prepare a scouting operation of new by area, study to see if anything here is edible
>It's Me, Buck Chadrock
>Currently wrestling a Trigon with my three foot long combat "Knife"
>Rippers and things attacking me as I fight.
>The two of us roll into a mud flat as I get my knife in it's eye.
>Smashed into the mud, I find myself right next to some kid guarsmen, who appears to be drinking mud coffee.
>Mustering all of my action movie studliness, I gaze deeply into his eyes, offering a hand while the other one is still grabbing the Trigon's chitin.
>"Need a ride, kid?"
>Be me, Guardsman Chesty.
>See newbie guardsman Dave think he's hot shit because he watched some Orkz get artillery shelled
>Show up on deathworld campaign
>Seems like a nice place
>Watch all the greenhorns get eaten by giant plants and other such hazards
>Watch the badasses slowly emerge from the herd
>Congratulate them as they distinguish themselves
>Welcome true warriors of humanity
>Tyranids show up
>Good, I could use a steak dinner and these field rations while wonderful just ain't cutting it
>Hot, amazon looking deathworld jungle babes practically leaping onto my "cannon"

>Commissar got eaten by a gaunt
>Finally we can get some actual soldiering done
>The enemy has us surrounded
>Those poor bastards
>God damn I love the guard.
This is some pretty dense cringe.
>be me, guardsman timmy
>lonely af, squad died
>place smells shittier than usual
>skin is melting off
>well then
>get the fuck outta there and see sign
>see one of those rafts being towed by mud sharks again
>one of them stops and the guy starts taking a leak
>might as well be walking on the sun
>decide to steal it
>get the high ground using mega tree branches
>gib the fucker
>be me, now riding the raft
>be smoking terran cigars with my autocannon
>whip mud sharks for moar speed
>life is good
>Be me,Guardsmen Rock
>somehow survive all this shit
>currently raiding the ad mech engineers that was dispatched with us
>Find a arm cannon
>it fires lemons
>proceeds to shoot shit with charge shots
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Arrive on some pansy "Death World" (its not a real Death World if some hive world city boy colonists can survive on it for more than a week)
>Tyranids and Orks everywhere, maybe Necrons and Dark Eldar as well
>My patrol squad gets split up to teach the other regiments how to survive in a jungle
>Fat chance of that happening, I give this bunch about three days before they get completely wiped out
>Get ordered to take a squad of pampered bluebloods out on patrol
>Can immediately tell things aren't going to go well when one wants to bring her valet
>Bet this lot hasn't even seen a plant that wasn't in a garden before
>Despite leading them through one of the safest parts of the jungle, manage to hit 100% fatalities in just under two hours
>Well, at least I tried...
>Be me, Cryptek Inakare
>Sitting in my workshop, messing around with some time distortion tech
>Scarab shows up, apparently there's a war on the surface
>go off to find my Staff
>Dear C'tan I hope the Overlord wakes up soon
>Be guardsman Rock, clearing the forest with my charge shot lemons
>Encounter some termagaunts, proceed to stomp on them like some fat sewer worker
>Encounter a hormagaunt, proceeds to one shot it
>I continue my search to find the chain of command so I don’t die like child with a tube on my arm
>be me oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company “Tracka’s marksmen”
>apparently there tyranids here
>half the squad is dead
>retreat to a more hospitable region of the planet
>regroup with a Catachan soldier that lost all of his men
>Be me, guardsman timmy
>still riding on like a champ
>gibbed a bunch of 'nids that tried to swim near the Chad raft
>autocannon and I get high
>crash land on a shore after mud sharks die from exhaustion
>see either people
>a catachan and some funny looking guy
>smiles in regrouping.brain
>Be me, Guardsman Brinn
>My regiment and I are a long way from our agri-world home
>Nothing about this world is hospitable, and even less makes sense
>The jungle is thicker than any of us could have imagined, rumored to be a mile deep in places
>Even the water table is a myth with swamps only a few hundred meters from deep sandblasted canyons
>A patrol a few weeks back lost a chimera that way, burst out of a swamp only to not see the drop
>We have to map this unbelievable mess ourselves because the dense tree cover prevents aerial recon
>The tree cover can even block most of the light from jungle floor, never more than a dim glow
>We were deployed on the south-eastern flank, in a giant crater
>The only way we could get a proper landing site was to blast one into the jungle from orbit
>New troops arrive by landing in the bottom of our crater
>The rest of us dig deep into the sides of the giant hole we call home, lining the crater with dugouts, bunkers, trenchworks, chow halls, latrines, you name it
>Up and around the rim is a ring of defenses from heavy stubber nests to anti-tank and anti-air emplacements
>Needless to say, life here is tedious, and a battle can last five minutes to five weeks without a lull in the gunfire
>Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention the wonderful mix of enemies, and the oh so helpful locals we're supposed to be winning the hearts and minds of
>BUT, there is a glimmer of hope, a tiny piece of scuttlebutt to cling to for hope
>We should be expecting reinforcements
>And after days of waiting there here
>All the possibilities for more Catachans to tame the jungle, or Armageddon to fight the orks, or at least some Tallarn to handle the heat and the desert like canyons
>The transport ramp drops to reveal men in thick, long, heavy great coats
>Their fuzzy hats soaked with sweat already as they doggedly off-load
>They sent us fucking Valhallans
>All half of them do is laze about in the trenches, whining about lack of alcohol, and heat
>Why us? Yes.
>Be me, Cryptek Inakare
>Staff aquired
>Head up to the surface
>Spend hours wandering through the jungle, It's shit here
>Are those people in that crater?
>Be me, proud Valhallan Bart
>Trench is good, but no alcohol
>Go on strike due to lack of booze
>Must be the work of chaos.wav
>Build myself a personal cave using stolen shovels and hog ammo and supplies
>Squat like a good Valhallan
>Steal a bolt gun from the agro-cunt's commisar
>I squat happily as he REE's
>Be me, Guardsman Rock
>I wandered into the trenches, happy to find my fellow guardsmen
>I decided to clear the forestry around the trench
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Just finish looting the corpse of last remaining blueblood soldier I was supposed to be escorting
>Damn these guys are rich, I mean sure he looted some of his buddies after they died, but still, there has got to be eight months of a normal guardsmen's salary worth of coins, bills, and jewelry on this guy
>Wonder if I should go back and check some of the other bodies that didn't get looted
>The one that ended up in the acid pond, and the one that got swallowed by a large mud shark are lost causes, but I can probably climb the noose tree and cut down those two that got hung, maybe the one who got eaten by a giant frog as well
>Spot a half squad of men from the Kansian regiment
>Haven't seen enough of those guys to know if they can fight worth a damn or not, but they managed to make it this far without dying so that is something
"Where you lads heading to?"
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>Be me, Guardsman Larkin
>Stuck in this Emperor forsaken planet
>Running security for this shitty village
>One of guys forgot to burn a patch florist grass and now two of my squad mates and 1 civilian are meat bouquets
>At least the qt 3.14 bald girl from this village noticed me
>Everything's coming up, Larkin!
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company "Tracka's marksmen"
>the Catachian is looting his companions corpses
>probably just grabbing essentials to bring back to base
"We were just attacked by a tyrranid and was forced to retreat. Currently we're head back to base in the higher canopy levels, we're willing for you to join us Jungle fighter"
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>be me
>be Shad'O Thundercock
>see guards men
>don't want to join the greater good
>kill them
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>Be me, proud Valhallan Bart
>Have created a sewer network throughout the trenches, it leads to the agro-cunt's personal safespace
>All the shit and piss ferments under the agro-cunt's commisar
>We also stole his booze and have successfully cloned it
>No longer on booze-less strike
>I swear I saw some necrons
>Fuck em, I got my booze
>Happily squat as Valhallan underground expands and agro-cunts seethe as their supplies disappear
>Smoke the local drug plant
>I have found the true joy in war.
>Be guardsman Rock
>See this blueberry faggot while I clear the forest
>I proceed to take aim,charging my shot to the max
>I fire and blow him out of the sky
It happens several times in the Cain books fucktard
>Be me, guardsman timmy
>munch on deceased mud sharks as I approach the catachan and the weird-looking motherfucker
>hug autocannon tightly
"Yo, anyone knows where the nearest base is so I can stock up on shit?"
>hopefully my autocannon isn't violated by another man's filthy hands
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Step off of lander into cripplingly hot humid temperatures
>This doesn't look like tundra to me
>Looks like we got offloaded on the wrong planet
>The ice cave dwelling troglodytes that we picked up during the last wave of new recruits are already complaining in their coarse pidgin tongue
>Someone beat the commissar to death before we even landed for withholding vodka rations and turning off the vox-caster blaring ardbass
>Guess no one is going to mind if I ditch most of my uniform then, and get a head start on drinking
>Should I start with vodka or tanna?
>The Colonel is already so drunk he is squatting naked on a stack of crates yelling gibberish at soldiers and tooting the regiment's heirloom trumpet
>He looks like the ugly lovechild of a gargoyle and a white boar
>And he is probably more sober than 80% of the men
>This is not a good day to be sober
>Pop the caps on my vodka flask and my tanna flask, which is also mostly vodka
>Pour both down my throat at the same time
>Finish off with a 40 from a freshly shattered crate
>The lander spontaneously explodes for no reason, there are three Leman Russ stacked on top of each other, and the techpriest is mating with the tanna machine again
>Grab two large glass bottles of vodka from a crate
>Welcome to the Imperial Guard
>Be me, proud Valhallan Bart
>New vodka shipment
>finally some good fucking booze.gif
>Steal it and bring it to man cave before compatriots realize
>Drink half and sell rest
>Steal the coat off the dead commissar and some other valhallan coat I found
>it's raining.
>Destroy nearby mud shark pond in anger
>Be guardsman Rock
>I walk towards the ship, curious if I could get some info out of them seeing it was mostly guardsmen in the trench
>I lower my cannon arm to better show my uniform
>”Hello there, where’s the main battle and commander!?” I shout to them
>I wait for them at the end of the ramp as I look at these Valhallan chucklefucks, the guard seeming to be barley sane
>Be me *clicking & chirping noises*
>Take job sending my warband to Y'Es
>Was suppose to rendezvous with Shad'O Thundercock for mission details but he's not at the meeting point
>I wonder what happened to him?
>My warband decides to wait some more
>While waiting, I see a strange human looking human eating a mud shark
>Looks good, I want some....
>Be me, wet Valhallan Bart
>Some cunt strolled up to our new Valhallan neighborhood
>Has a shitty looking arm gun thing
>Literally looks like a fleshlight
"You seriously have that? It looks like fucking fleshlight it requires more bayonet!"
>I slap the fucker and tape on a knife
"Much better now, want some vodka?"
>Be guardsman timmy
>Catachan and his gay partner disappeared into the mud
>Such is life.
>Continue consumption of mud sharks until i spot some weird looking motherfuckers
>Hold mud shark with mouth while slowly preparing my autocannon
>gonna gib some xenos tonite.yeet
>pray to the emperor for better accuracy
>Be Guardsman Brinn
>Shift up to the defenses for my shift on duty
>Hopefully nothing happens for 24hrs and I can rotate back to my dugout
>The Valhallans on duty are doing their share of the work fine
>I suppose they're not as bad when they have to be serious
>Trade half a pack of lhosticks for a few shots of their booze
>Good stuff, I can see why they value it so much
>Honestly pretty amused they funneled the sewers they made into my commissar's dugout
>Sure, none of use are gonna let ourselves get caught giggling, but the ass-hat deserves some humility
>Let's just hope it doesn't increase the execution rate too much
>Maybe I was wrong about them
>A lasbolt sails past my head, so close I feel the heat coming off it
>Turn around to spot the source, a drunken Ice Warrior negligently discharged his lasgun trying to clean it
>He looks as surprised as I feel, must be one of their greenhorns
>Maybe I'm only half wrong about them
>be guardsman Rock
>Get pissed at what this Valhallan bitch said about my weapon
>Then she slapped me
>I made a crater next to us
>”Sure I’ll like some drink,got soda” I smirked like a jackass
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Lost half their squad to a single bug and are now retreating
>Figures, hopefully it was a lictor or something else big and dangerous and not just a gaunt
>Some guardsman from another regiment shows up on a raft with a large autocannon
>Sure, why not
>Non-catachan can get a bit irrational after too much time in the jungle
>Hear something trampling through the jungle
>It is those motherfucking blue commie bastards
>Disappear into the jungle in order to find a good ambush point
>The Kansians and the autocannon guy also get into cover
>Wait for the whole squad of Fire Warriors to blunder into the open like idiots
>Open fire with my bolter
>Kansians and autocannon guy open fire too
>Fire Warrior squad gets shredded
>High tech armor my ass
>Motion the other guardsmen to get moving
>There are probably more Tau about, or maybe their kroot buddies
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>Be me *clicking & chirping noises*
>The odd human spotted us and is readying his gun
>*Clack & Chirp* suggest we retreat because that human is clearly unhinged
>*Brrr & Squawk* Agrees. He said he saw that human earlier holding on to his weapon like a mate
>We retreat further into the jungle
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>great the tau are here
>hurry back to camp
>when the hell did Valhallans showed up
>why are there a bunch of tunnels under the barracks
>I’m gonna shoot whoever did this
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>great the tau are here
>hurry back to camp
>when the hell did Valhallans showed up
>why are there a bunch of tunnels under the barracks
>I’m gonna shoot whoever did this
>Scion Caltus of 73rd Epsilic Eagles
>many reports of Dark Eldar activity on Y’es
>Lord Commissar and the Tempestor Primes all agree we can detour here and help the Militarum Regimentum
>Advanced Scanners show Deldar activity on the southwestern quadrant
Tempestor Prime and Lord Commissar lead a Surgical Strike Brigade against an apparent Deldar raiding group
>look around at what’s left of their base
>guardsmen strung up by their balls all over
>burn all the corpses after collecting identification and gathering any equipment left, mostly demolitions munitions
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>And now it is raining...
>It is actually refreshingly cool, but it is also making my shirt see-through so I grab a canvas sheet with a big hole in the middle and wear it like a poncho
>Start moving some crates around since someone might as well be responsible here
>So far the only "work" getting done is a bunch of drunks stashing the booze in various hideyholes for later use
>Trade a few sips of my vodka for lho-sticks with some of those agri-worlders who have the misfortune of sharing camp with us
>Cringe a bit when some drunken moron rides the regimental mascot bear into the side of a Sentinel Walker, while some other idiot tapes a knife to some guy's plasma cannon arm
>Start telling the agri-worlders that I was adopted into the regiment and am in no way related to these inbred mouth breeders
>Be me, guardsman timmy
>Catachan came out if the mud and started blasting the tau
>weirder looking motherfuckers jetted
>I smoke with Jenny in celebration
>she makes happy autocannon noises in agreeance
>slowly un-deploy and begin crawling toward the nearest source of alcohol smell
>Be me, Guardsman Rock
>Currently be pissed at a lot of things
>Keep the knife I was given and shove it in my pocket incase I do need it
>Notice blue and tan blurs in the sky
>I began to take pot shots at them with full charges,punching through the blue fucks armour
>Be me, Proud Valhallan Bart
>The squad's adopted female is currently chatting with the agro-cucks
>What is most worrysome is that our bear is mauling a titan
>Sip vodka in worryment
>Kid with the cannon arm is playing space invaders with the Tau. Good.
>Kid's got good aim but is missing bayonet
>Leman russes got eaten by super termites
>Techpriest is REE'ing and seducing the coatless commisar
>Such is life in Valhalla-ville
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>Walks up to the drunken soldier
"Soldier care to explain why in the emperor's name is there tunnels underneath the barracks"
>Be me, Proud Valhallan Bart
>Some important looking idiot from some bumfuck nowhere company demands to know why we built our Valhallan city
"Well you see...."
>Knees become weak
>Arms are spaghetti
>See no other way out other than smoke bombing using canned napalm
"Err... Look! Tau!"
>Not dying today.run
>drop canned napalm and jump into mud river
>use secret entrance to underground
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>I am not actually adopted, I just got conscripted from a slightly more articulate and civilized region of Valhalla then whatever sump pit we got these new recruits from
>A hairy half naked brute walks by, projectile vomits on the back of my head, then walks away, blaring ardbass from the two vox-casters he is carrying
>Sometimes I wish I was adopted though
>Hear shooting from somewhere
>Wonder if we are actually under attack, or it is just more drunken antics
>Be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>damn Valhallan caused all this didn't he
>get the vox caster
"attention all soldier one of our men have gone rogue, if you see any Valhallan soldiers you are to capture them for interrogation"
>Be me, Hiding Valhallan Bart
>Steal a vox-caster from a dead agro-cunt
>Rally fellow Valhallans and fortify my current position.
>Build bayonet phalanx in every entrance
>Start taunting through the vox like a motherfucker
>Hit peak drunk
>Declare Valhalla-ville independent and break off from the greater imperium
>Become Great Leader Bart.
>Life is good.
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Did that guy just order the arrest of all Valhallans in a camp containing hundreds, maybe thousands of Valhallans?
>Maybe because we are standing in the agri-worlder side of the camp he doesn't realize there is a whole regiment of us disembarking in this area
>Luckily nothing about my homemade poncho, boxer shorts, and boots uniform screams Valhallan, but the guy who just vomited on me is still wearing his hat and gets tackled by two of the newcomers
>He is a big lad though, and a rather homoerotic wrestling match occurs before they get the cuffs on him
>Also one of my squad mates just declared on the vox that him and some of his tunnel buddies are seceding from the Imperium
>Oh look, some Tau are attacking the base, never thought I would be happy to see those little blue munchkins
>Unsling my lasgun, and head over in the direction of the Tau attack
>Slowly though, no point in getting there first
>be me Oriel tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>slap myself in face at this idiot's action
>order vox casters to track all vox and pin point this idiot's location
>get several squads ready to hunt down this traitor
>Be me, Great Leader Bart
>Dances In Independece.action
>Be greatest leader
>Drink happily as loyalists seethe
>Scion Caltus of the 73rd Epsilic Eagles
>after destroying known Deldar targets, we load back into the Valkyries
>Scion Maxis is checking over his Clarion Vox Array when he gets garbled feedback
>Valhallans have apparently gone rogue, and some are seceding from the Imperium
>Lord Commissar overhears, yelling
“This cannot FUCKING stand!”
>Tempestor Prime orders re-mobilization
>We are speeding our Valk squadron over the continent, countermeasure systems allowing for the nimble dodging deadly of jumping plant life
>Vox communique is sent to Kansian Command frequency
>Tempestor Prime
“Copy, Kansians. Traitors will face holy retribution.”
>be Guardsman Rock
>More tau are coming and charging takes time
>hears beep
>I look at the cannon, find 4 ports that look like it takes las gun packs
>I jump into the trench, looking for charge packs
>while I try to charge the arm cannon I yell to the Valhallan “Oi ICE TITS, BLUEBERRIES INCOMIN”
>be me, Great leader Bart
>hear the words "TAUUU!!!" echo through my tunnels
>Everyone begins to bayonet charge, leaving the bunkers lonely again.
>Sit on chair knowing that men will never return
>Sit on chair knowing that loyalist will soon purge me
>Sip happily remembering all the good time I had on this planet
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>Be me, Guardsman Larkin
>Still stuck in this shitty village
>The qt 3.14 bald girl waved at me today
>I waved back but I dropped my Lasgun
>She laughed
>She sooo into me
>Just noticed that patrol still isn't back
>Whatever, I just hope the reinforcements get here already.
>Be Guardsman Rock
>run against the crowd because my weapon isn’t working
>end up in the bunkers
>I continue to run and end up near Bart, seeing he wasn’t running towards the battle I hang around to wait for my arm cannon to charge
>Be Guardsman Brinn
>Staring off into the jungle waiting for shit to go south
>Begin hearing commotion from the camp
>Word gets around to seize Valhallans for questioning
>The CO is pissed and some of the more disorderly men are minutes from turning the crater into a mudwrestling pit
>Look back down the trench for the Valhallan that traded me for the booze
>Decide to let them be, I'm sure there's some Militarum Arbites or other non-grunt that can handle that
>Go back to post when gunfire catches my ear
>Tau are attacking us further down the line from my post
>Fuck, now the Emperor only knows when I'll catch the next break
>Start weaving through the trench to get to the action
>Maybe I can score a light wound to buy me a some RnR
>Sure it's a bleak kind of hope, but guardsmen gotta make do
>Who wouldn't take a shot in the arm to earn a few days break?
>Maybe they'll give me an extra day or two if I bag plenty of blueskins
>Be me, Not-so Great Leader Bart
>See gun-arm guy waving at me
"Welcome to hell, can I get you some booze or would you prefer cofee'd mud?"
>I smile at possible new friend “ya got soda?”
>”Nevermind, wanna see me wreck blue ass!?” Grinning like a mad man as I notice I can turn the barrel
>”MACHINE GUN” the cannon said
>”let’s see what this do” I said giddily, running back into the battle to see what this could do
>Be me, Valhallan grub
>Be part of large mass of fellow Valhallans bayonet charging the blue people
>They immediately turn into red mist in contact
>most blueberry men route
>start charging toward loyalists
>everyone screams "FOR VALHALLA-VILLE!!!" in unison
>life is good.
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Drunkenly follow cannon-friend
>nothing better to do.sad
>steal more coats for my giga-coat
>be me Oriel tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>bunch of Valhallans are charging at us
>gun them down like the traitors they are
>awaiting any reports of there leader's location
>send two men to search the underground tunnels
>Be Rock, charging my arm canon
>once out into the field I shoot at the tau, the metal looking like a shot gun hit it
>I start to charge my cannon, changing shooting types if I wanted it dead or help out some fellow guardsmen
>I noticed machine gun has a faster charge then shots
>I manage to successfully fight in the field, hopping my new friend had a similar competence
>Be me Valhallan grub
>be dead due to bolter fire
>Life is not so good.
>Be me, Not-so great leader Bart
>Start throwing empty vodka bottles like a maniac, killing any tau that get hit
>rock n roll babeeh
>notice that every Valhalla-ville resident has become a flesh pile
>Be me Valhallan Terry
>freshly deployed on this emperor-forsaken mud planet
>put first foot on land
>get tackled from behind and get called a traitor
>Be me, Mechanicus Wahwee
>Life is shit after some fat cunt stole my top-of-the-line arm cannon tech
>hang myself
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>gets report that they captured one of the traitors
>order they to send him to me for interrogations
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>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>The camp is in confusion as the Kansians and Stormtroopers attack the Valhallans while the Valhallans and agri-worlders fight off the Tau
>Somehow I don't think this is getting into the history books
>Ditch my poncho and slip off into the "jungle" for a bit until things cool down
>Everyone is always talking about how dangerous it is, but so far it is just a bunch of "trees" and other plants
>Never seen a plant before, there wasn't any on Valhalla or on my previous deployment
>They don't seem very dangerous though, they kind of just sit there and be green
>Spot a Tau Pathfinder running in the opposite direction
>Suddenly a bunch of vines on the ground jump up, wrap around him, then drag him into a hole
>Hmm, I guess some plants are dangerous then
>Be Vivian Vanderbilt, 13th Britannica Rifles "The Bluebloods"
>Last survivor of my patrol, lost for the past three hours
>If I ever get back to base I am joining to hack off the Colonel's balls and feed it to him for picking this deployment
>We could have had a nice garrison post, but no, Colonel Dickhead wanted an adventure to try out his new elephant gun
>Next time just bribe a zookeeper or something
>Oh look, a village!
>I am saved!
>The village is a bit ... spiky ... though
>And there are people hanging from their sensitive bits with ... things ... jammed in various orifices, through various body parts, underneath different patches of skin, you get the idea
>Change of plan, fuck the village
>Head in the opposite direction, hopefully this leads me back to a Guard base
>Feel the ground get a bit soft beneath my feet
>Fuck my life
>Be me, Scion Caltus of the 73rd Epsilic Eagles
>Squadron closes in on traitor positions
>Tempestor points out Tau attack
>Tempestor Prime orders indiscriminate strafing runs on the Valhallan/Tau battle lines and position
>heavy bolters, multilasers, and missile pods bracket the field with fire
>traitors and xenos burst to pieces and become fine mist
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>We make it back to one of the Guard bases, but I decide to hang out in the jungle for a bit
>I prefer the company of the jungle to the company of idiot amateurs, and besides, I feel like something is coming
>Spot a squad of Fire Warriors advancing along a riverbank, escorting a Hammerhead
>Not on my watch
>Stick two demolition charges on either side of a natural rock arch the Hammerhead will soon have to go under
>Detonate at just the right time, crushing the Hammerhead and several Fire Warriors
>Snipe most of the rest with my bolter
>Jump down and stab the last two through the collarbone with my knifes as I land
>One man army bitches
>Be me,Guardsman Rock
>In my battles and rolling I end up in near the jungle
>Seeing I wasn’t fighting anything, I wave my friend to come over here
>I see one of the Valhallans go into the jungle,wonder what their up to
>Hope my vodka throwing friend comes soon so we can check it out
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>Be me.
>Had sworn off names out of piety to the cause.
>Inquisitor called me Swordy boi.
>Is kinda awkward when she finds out I'm a girl.
>At least I'm back in a place like home for now.
>No idea where Inquisitor is.
>Finally lost her.
>Can keep on crusade.
>Can hear some sounds of some seriously major fighting going on.
>Not sure if I want to wade in, armour resplendent, or cover myself in mud like a true jungle fighter.
>Stick a bunch of plants and twigs on my robe.
>Guillie suit.
>Now to just avoid walking into the middle of it accidentally.
>be me, Space Marine Primaris Lieutenant
>dab on everyone else
>"Eat shit, everyone else".
>be me
>guardsman named robert
>valk is shot down by a gun on some shitty ork trukk
>bleed out while greenskins are looting my lasrifle
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>Be Brother-Captain Jean-Louis of the "Dusk Reavers" chapter of the Adeptus Astarte's
>be in command of the prestigious 1st company
>Our chapter fleet gets word that Imperial Guard forces are struggling on the near by planet of Y'Es
>the chapter master decides to dispatch the 1st and 2nd company to assist, and puts me in charge
>with that me and my men make way to the world
>the trip through the warp goes better than expected, in fact we travel back in time before we even left our fleet.
>hear over the vox that the Imperial Guard lines are under attack
>order my men to land via drop pod upon the attacking Tau
>board my own drop pod
>I soon land upon the battle field, my own drop pod obliterating dozens of xenos
>as soon as the ramp drops
>I charge into the enemy, mast crafted thunder hammer in hand.
>Be me, Cryptek Inokare
>Apparently the humans are fighting eachother now?
>I'm so confused
>See some idiot with some kind of furred creature attached to his head throwing bottles around
>Just start firing indiscriminately, shouting at the meatbags to 'get out of my garden'

>inb4 the sweaty /tg/ nerds call you out for having a female guardsmen
>be Guardsman Johnson
>got primed two years ago
>mold lines not even scraped
>no base cost even
>just put out on the table like this
>captain not even primed
>guardsman Johnny has some blue base coat at least but he's not even part of our kit, I suspect he's metal underneath
>even the orks are fully painted and based
>no one will engage us
>Be me *clicking & chirping noises*
>Warband & I double back to our ship to get off this planet since Shad'O Thundercock never showed
>Our ship is stripped
>*Brrr & Squawk* brother *Prrr & Squawk* forgot to cloak it
>Guess we have to look for work here now.
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>receives report that 2 Astarte's companies have arrived on planet
>try to get in contact with them
>Be me, Not-so great leader Bart
>Legs are missing thanks to loyalist airstrike
>pull out stolen bolt pistol
>Drag myself closer to the jungle and cannon-friend
>lots of steel skeletons in the distance
>space marine dabbing
>space marines pods fall and squish remaining Tau
>Just another day in the office.soap
>Be Scion Caltus
>Lord Commissar says it’s time to take the traitors
>Lord Commissar will lead a squad
>grab my ‘nade launcher, Scion Kelt has his flamer, Maxis’ Clarion Vox is tuned in, crystal clear frequencies. Scion Jerris has the Martyr’s Gift Medkit, Tempestor Caf holsters his boot pistol and revs his chainsword
>Valkyrie door opens up
>Lord Commissar, power fist surging with energy, slides down his cable first
>squad follows
>we make for heretic trenches, hours of flame burning traitors while I launch frags into groups
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>be Brother Captain Jean-Louis of the Dusk Reavers
>be smashing and bashing my way through Tau fire warriors with master crafted thunder-hammer
>one of them even tries to stab me with it's knife
>its knife promptly breaks apon making contact with my power armor
>take a brief moment to chuckle at the xeno's feeble attempt at melee
>proceed to hit it with my thunder-hammer soo had it goes flying and impacts one of the hover sized trees with a splat
>then over the vox, hear some one trying to contact me
>I reply
This is Brother Captain of the Dusk Reavers! We are here to bring victory in the name of the Emperah. To whom am I speaking too?
*boot bolt pistol
>be Lord Commander Millitant
>a new jungle world has been discovered
>who do we send?
>”Fuck it, send everyone.”
>nothing can go wrong
>be me Oriel tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
“This commander Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th company 185th Kansian regiment, thank for reinforcements brother captain, the traitor forces, along the necrons, tyranids, orks, and natural fauna have been a pain to deal with”
>Be me, guardsman timmy
>Be in house raft with autocannon
>Great Mud Ocean has provided me with many Mud sharks
>Biga ass pyramid rolls up
>emperor protects.prayer
>cant autocannon this shit
>Small hole opens in the top
>it fires a laser into the sky
>falls right behind me
>mud tsunami nearly capsized my house raft
>the mud starts bubbling up and eventually it becomes a whirlpool
>it's sucking in my raft
>grab auto cannon and ammo box and jump at a fleeing mud shark
>clearly alpha, has no problem carrying me
>whirlpool gets even bigger
>pirates of the caribbean.ending
>inject drugs into shark
>it roars a mighty roar as it speeds up and dolphin jumps over debris
>eat mud shark out of respect
>mud ocean will probably fill up again in a bit
>such is life
>be me guardsman Rock
>see vodka friend crawl to the jungle
>run towards him and carry him
>Get in the safety of the jungle,lay him on a tree sitting up
>I gather long and sturdy sticks for him to uses as crutches, I tie two of them on his stumps
>that’ll do.diy
>be me guardsman Piotr of the 432nd polonian outrider regiment
>get me and my regiment shipped to some junge planet
>wonder why we're shipped off to some emperor forsaken jungle planet
>pray to emperor that we won't be serving alongside those krieg psychos
>get cheered by a thought of 60 crates of vodka that grandfather gave me before we were shipped off
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Cannon-friend replaced my stumps with sticks
>Drink vodka to ease the pain
"So, what do we do next?"
>Empty trenches getting flamed by space marines
>retards just want to flex and say that they did something
>be Scion Caltus
>team works through the trenches, shooting anything jumping the walls
>Lord Commissar points in the distance beyond the trench line at the forest’s edge
>traitor on peg legs and some fella with heretech
>raise up grenade launcher
>fire at traitors
>no direct hits—send dirt, wood splinters, and plant matter everywhere, but traitors are pinned down, suicidal to take shots at us
>force a stand or a retreat for the traitor and heretech
>Be guardsman Rock
>I explain to vodkafriend I saw one of the vallhalans wander into the forest, and curious what there up to
>I hear a bomb explode near us
>see officials
>I change the cannon to single and charge to full
>I grab vodka friend and run, hopefully this shit show of a jungle shitshow of a planet has some caves or atleast emperor worshiping savages
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Loyalist scum are trying to kill us with bombs
>And some Valhallan ran into the forest.
>Too drunk to walk
>I sleep.snore
>get carried around by cannon-fren
>is good fren
>dream of cheese
>good dream
>Be Rock
>find a tau pathfinder being nommed by plants
>still looking for that odd vallhallan, or at least a friendly
>Ask Vodkafriend do you see anyone
>Start to clear the forest with charge shots
>Be white shield Lectus
>Just recruited last month
>know how to field strip a cadian pattern lasgun faster than every soldier from my kasr
>They said life expectancy on this planet is low
>Stick head up from trenches because I heard a noi...
>be me Oriel tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian company
>oh shit tyranids are attacking
>requesting any reinforcements from anyone
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Cannon-friend is looking for someone
>Asks me if I've seen anything
>only thing I can see is some blue cunt getting munched on by a plant
>Peg my way to the nearest high spot
>See bushes moving
>i swear if its a fucking tyrannid-
>can see a human shape
>i swear if its a fucking eldar i will-
>oh wait its the conscript
"Hey, cannon friend, i think i see person!"
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>Be me.
>Be making my way slowly through the forest, listening for the sounds one doesn't want to hear when walking through a forest.
>Proceed to hear them.
>Emperor protects.
>A lot of the smaller ones.
>One of their Warrior strain.
>Quickly wrap self in robe.
>The plant presence may fool them.
>No luck.
>Fuck it.
>Crusading time.
>Launch forward, start slamming and slashing my way though the horde.
>Emperor guide my blade, for I am nothing more.
>Get to the warrior strain.
>Big ugly beast.
>Take rounds to shield and armour.
>Get in close.
>It tries to stab at me.
>Shield, counterswing, slam, swing, cut, thrust, kick, cleave.
>Take several good hits in the process, but now I have it on the ground, cracked and torn wide open, all its fluids mixing with the air and the plants and the dirt.
>Some point got covered in it's assorted viscera.
>Mostly greens, interestingly enough.
>Little white vapor, but nothing significant.
>Just tyranid blood/acid/bile, nothing major.
>Still, solid fight for one regular woman with a sword and shield.
>Some astartes struggle with them.
>Not quite sure how I'm alive.
>Except for the Emperor's will.
>Decide "Fuck it", it was a big fight, I want to take a trophy.
>Try taking head. Too big to carry.
>Head has some snazzy horn-like structures though. Almost like a moose or elk.
>Taking those bad boys.
>Much easier.
>Realize only now that I should move before more tyranids come to find me.
>Also, my armour's still smoking from bathing in essence of Tyranid.
>Maybe I should wash that off.
>Be guardsman Rock
>I was deforesting our area when I heard Vodkafriend tell me we found someone
>Wave towards the saner vallhallan
>”so you got a plan?” I asked vodka friend
>Be Scion Caltus
>traitors run off
>Scion Maxis edits his Clarion Vox hook-up from his slate monitron
>Vox is set to amplified megaphone
“Halt, traitors! Stand down! Submit to righteous authority!”
>Lord Commissar is repeatedly cleansing and unclenching his powerfist while his other hand is hovering over his plasma pistol
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Return back to the agri-worlder / Valhallan base
>It is being completely trashed by the toy boys, Kansians, and Space Marines even as Tau, Necron, and Tyranid forces overrun large sections of it
>Grab some passing soldier and demand to know what is going on
>Apparently a few drunk Valhallans claimed they were seceding from the Imperium and now the newcomers are trying to wipe out the whole regiment
>Well that is just dumb even by High Command's standards
>And people wonder why Catachan don't trust authority figures
>Oh well, once they are done killing each other, all their gear will be reassigned to us
>I mean, that would have happened anyways, but this speeds up the process by a few days
>Decide to follow last given orders, which were to patrol the area around the Britannica base
>Head back out into the jungle, stopping at one of the Catachan ammo dumps on my way north
>Frag Grenades, Krak Grenades, Hallucinogen Grenades, composite bow, vials of local poison, mines, trap wire, demo charges, melta bombs
>A man can cause a whole world of hurt with these kinds of toys
>Grab everything that I can carry (which is a lot) and continue onward
>Doubtlessly I will encounter many enemy patrols to play with
>Welcome to the jungle bitches, we got fun and games
>Be me Guardsman Rock
>Make great tactical decision
>Grab vodka friend and run past the odd vallhallan, knowing if we go deeper in the jungle they’ll have the same chances of surviving as we do

>be Brother Captain Jean-Louis of the Dusk Reavers
>I receive I reply from the commander
of one of the near by Guard regiments
>from what he has told me, I'm rather impressed that they survived so long
> I order my men to take up position in the trenches
>As enter the trench work, I set out to find the Commander, on to hear over my vox:
>meeting with the commander will have to wait
>time to squash some bugs
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>Be me.
>Turns out, the assorted viscera didn't sit well with the armaplas and ceramite to my carapace plate, or to my suppression shield.
>Tinted it all a kind of blotchy green.
>Managed to scrub a fair bit off, so it's recognizable as metal.
>Just weirdly green.
>Ahh well, no major issue. If anything, it's extra camouflage.
>Set off in the direction of more sounds of war.
>I know a hundred and five of the sacred strikes. All who I see before me shall fall, or shall slay me.
>Such is the life of a crusader.
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th company
>hiding up in a sniper tower
>taking potshot at any tyranids I can see
>sees the Astartes coming to our aid
>thank the emperor we're saved
>Be me, Not-so great leader Bart
>on the run again.mp4
>Now be deeper in the jungle
>Cannon-friend nearly gets tangled up by rape vines
>canned napalm saves the day.burn
>sustenance is required
>eat Friday Mud sharks
>Such is life.
>Be me, Khornate Berserker
>Our ship warps into this-
>Aaaand we crashed with a space hulk.
>Huge gash in ship, kills most of everyone
>I survive
>And are currently plummeting toward the planet
>Doesn't matter, I will doe in a glorious fire!
>Slightly burned, but still alive
>Splatted a tyrannid
>Remove it's skull and use it as a hat
>Stroll around until I can find some thing to vivisect with my chain axe.
>What if I made a quest thread but it was greentext so I could claim it wasn't a quest
>be me Oriel Tracka, 10th Kansian company
>sweet even more astartes
>why are they covered in spikes
>probably just a thing they do on their planet
Why do the Lord Generals even want this damned world? If the deathmachines and the tyrants are already stuck there figthing eachother wouldn't it be easier for the Navy to deal with their fleets?
Shut up and shoot a fucking bug, soldier
>Why do the Lord Generals even want this damned world? If the deathmachines and the tyrants are already stuck there figthing eachother wouldn't it be easier for the Navy to deal with their fleets?

Who said anything about fleets?
So far there is just a Space Hulk with orks on it, a crashed Chaos ship, and some Imperial transports
Maybe the Necron are here because it is a Tomb World
Maybe the Tyranids and Tau were already dealt with in space, leaving their ground forces marooned
Maybe the Dark Eldar showed up by portal

As for why the Imperials want the world, maybe resources, or maybe just avenging their colony, who knows
Damn and yet we can't deal any of those douchebags except Taus and Eldars. Since this story seems like 40k generic but subverted, it's obvious that the muhrines aren't coming to get rid of any of those assholes. I guess pray to the emperor that the martians take an interests and send some robots before we all die.
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Oh great...
>It is my drunken squadmate that seceded from the Imperium
>No doubt with a whole army hot on his heels
>This is almost as bad as the time my other drunken squadmate impersonated a Commissar for a day and recruited a bunch of Slaaneshi slave girls into the regiment
>Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with my regiment?
>Ignore them for a while since I don't want to get stuck with a guilt by association charge, then realize it is probably too late for that
>After some serious hesitation, decide to follow them
>A few hours of running later, we stop to take a meal break
>I take the opportunity to thumb through The Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer - Y'Es Edition
>It is basically just the normal TIIUP with an 80 page addendum stuck to the back, which very briefly summarizes the threats of the Y'Es jungle
>Read the first couple pages of the addendum, it is basically a list of things we already did over the past hour and why not to do them
>Among the gruesome highlights:

- Don't enter waist deep water without protective waders, spiked minnows may enter your urethra and become lodged

- Don't eat mud shark, the meat may contain parasitic eggs that will hatch and grow into fist sized crustaceans, which will then try to exit your body through your anus

- Don't run through wide muddy patches, they are sometimes quicksand. Quicksand sometimes contain "rape vines", which are actually a form of mollusk that will paralyze you, lay eggs in ALL your orifices, keep you alive for days until the eggs hatch by secreting oxygen and nutrients directly down your throat, then repeat the process assuming scavengers don't eat your paralyzed body first. Rape vines can also be found in shallow water, deep water, caves, burrows, thick bushes, cavities within large trees, and poorly maintained latrines

- Don't use leaves as sanitary paper. Don't eat leaves. Don't touch leaves. Don't touch anything organic. Possible side effects include: rashes, pus filled abscesses, parasitic cysts, strangulation (see entry on NOOSE VINES), hallucinogenic toxins, anal fistulas, spontaneous combustion, instant death, slow agonizing death, contact with mind controlling spores, painful metamorphosis into a corpse tree, dismemberment, impregnation (see entry on RAPE VINES), becoming trapped in acid and dissolved alive for 14+ months (see PITCHER PLANT SUBSPECIES)

>And it gets way worse after the first page
>And even worse, since this is a Departmento Munitorum publication, it was probably heavily watered down for morale purposes
>Fuck my life
>be me extremely bored ministorium scribe
>get tasked to write survival guide for some shitty planet
>thinking it would be funny to put in a bunch of made up crap to make it seem way worse
>everyone is to busy to fact check it
>don’t get killed for this
>be me, guardsman timmy
>be shitting crustaceans after eating raw mud sharks for a week straight
>autocannon by my side comforting me
>life is good
>Be guardsman rock
>finally notice off valhallan had followed us
>see her read the primer, see if I have one but don’t
>Ask to read it
>read it
>begin to shoot everything until we stand in a 10 foot radius of scorched earth
>feel like I did a good job
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Our cannon armed friend has burned a large area free of vegetation
>Normally I would be worried about things like smoke and energy weapon bursts giving away our position, but I figure we got several hundred feet of dense canopy above us, and the thick foliage prevents people from seeing more than a dozen yards tops
>Also after what I just read I don't want to touch another plant ever again
>It probably can't be avoided though, it is not like we can sit in our little clearing of scorched earth forever
>Eventually we will have to find our way back to an Imperial base or friendly village and hope that the current infighting has died down
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Congratulate Cannon-friend on his landscaping skills
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>Been with the 213 Rearguard Reserve since I can rember
>Have enough skill to get assinged to a plasma squad
>With one plasma gun
>Spend battles by sides of beast-like tanks,the inquisitors ,the sisters, even some mechanicus automatons
>Life should be good, but poor sarge ends up desintegrating will shooting a large bug
>Get sent alongside half of the Rearguard to "protect" a resupply run going towards Vindales
>Surprise turns out that our half Rearguard is in the resupply ships
>Honestly this warpbullshit will probably kill an irreplacable amount of humans
>But who cares Plasma guns for everyone
>Turns out our ship got assinged to a supply run to a place called Y'Es
>Doesn't sound too bad honestly
>Our cruiser sees some Navy ships attempts to join formation
>It gets hit
>The ship crashes
>Bright flashes of light I can hear the chanting
>"Forgiving angel is that you?"
>Some mechanic-thing with a red helment slaps me
>And yells obscenities at me with a cute accent
>Turns out we aren't that lucky most of the platoon is alive
>Air rustles with a SCREECH
>Shootin time
>Honestly the bugs couldn't have been the elite or anything
>Like Jimmity and Sam got hit with acid and are probably dead
>But beyond that it's a big victory for a reserve platoon
> The red thing calls it self Magos and tho shaken seems to be incharge
>The squad seems real happy and since I am sergeant now, I order them to celebrate
>Explosions claim the air
>I am very pleased with myself
>The red Magos slaps me
>"Wut?" I say
>Oh seems like a few of the platoon members died from excess celebratin and overcharged plasma
>Bodycount time
>Turns Im the Captain now
>Communication officer(promoted) says the Inquisitor unboard has ordered us to regroup with the surviving Magi
> Tell the red mage that it is safe now and that we shall protect their very life with ours
>Their gaze reasures me
>Be guardsman Rock, standing in the middle of the scorched circle
>Check cannon for power levels, 23%
>slap one of the (stolen) power packs in it, watch the power level rise by 25% percent
>think how I can ration power
>think it’s stupid,try it anyway
>don’t think about it as I now have a plan of attack
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Still making my way back to the Britannica Base
>Along the way I see many things of interest:
>Several squads of Fire Warriors writhing in agony on a riverbank. Spiked minnows up the ol' drain most likely. Most of them don't even notice the Trihorned Mud Frog catching them one by one with its sticky tongue and pulling them into its gullet
>At least three different Valkyrie crash sites, why do they even bother with those things anymore? Between the hostile anti-air units everywhere, and an endless supply of kamikaze avians I am surprised there are even any left
>The autocannon guy from before crapping out crustaceans. Mud shark meat, not even once. Maybe I will circle back when he is feeling better
>Some Catachan lass in heavy armor, wave hello, but it looks like she is busy with something. Like any child of Catachan though, she can no doubt find me if she wants to.
>Some rape vine victims. Too late to help out. Not worth mercy kills, circle of life and all that jazz
>Bunch of weirdos sitting around a small clearing, one of them is jumping around shooting foliage. Potential victims of hallucinogenic poisons or early onset of mind control spores overriding their nervous system. Will avoid for now
>Four more Dark Eldar camps full of torture victims. No one has seen any Dark Eldar since arriving on the planet. They are clearly here somewhere though, some of the victims have only been there for a few hours. This is unsettling
>Flattened pieces of an entire Tau Hunter Cadre. Got trampled by something big. Real big
>Feel like a chump now for carrying all this explosives, clearly the jungle is handling things for me
>Come to another riverbed, spot a large convoy of Tau heading this way
>Boobytrap time!
These threads are just quests in disguise. Please take the required action.
This. We didn't get that shitty Mage's Guild cancer purged just to suffer this shit.
>A bunker is just a big grave
>Go out and try to find an armored company and communications officer to increase our chances of survival
>Be guardsman Rock
>notice some catachan walk past us
>he looks like someone who knows what he’s doing,let’s follow him!
>I Help Vodkafriend keep up and signal for the vallhallan to follow
>stop a few meters away from him stopping at a river bed, start shooting to raze the area and make it safe
These posts are trash, so I'm COOFING on you as punishment.
>Be me.
>See a Catachan Jungle fighter.
>Looks like he knows where shit is around here.
>Follow after him, whistle-click in a way anyone else not catachanian would think was a bird.
>Wander over, now he knows I'm safe.
>Chat a little bit, ask where HQ is, he says he's going there now.
>Sounds good to me.
>Let him lead the way. Feels wrong to be behind, but I don't know where anything is, so...
>Eh, at least he wasn't weird about it.
>He might not know what a Crusader is.
>Wonder if they have hot food there.
>Wouldn't mind a little break and a pit stop myself.
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>Be Parrot
>Be secretly lord of change in parrot demonhost
>Find some mortals in the jungle
>Important one linked to the inquisition
>Decide to corrupt them
>Land on some branch and say hello with my parrot voice a few times so they'll notice me
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>The Tau look like they are having problems with spiked minnows and mud sharks, this should buy me some time
>Slip back into jungle, then reemerge on riverbank just around the bend, out of sight of the Tau force
>Quickly bury all my mines, plant a couple of toe poppers for good measure, this should force them off the relative safety of the riverbank into either spike minnow filled water, or the rape vine filled jungle swamp adjacent to this section of the river
>Hang a melta bomb from a tall tree pendulum style, a well placed shot to the restrain wire will swing the melta bomb sideways across the river, perfect for taking out that Devilfish
>Climb into a tree with a good vantage point, attach some grenades to the arrows of my composite bow to make a poor man's grenade launcher
>The Guardsmen and the Catachan Crusader who were following me also start laying their ambush, hopefully their plans don't interfere with mine
>Spot first wave of Tau coming around the bend
>Its party time bitches!
It seems the sorry fool ended up being infected himself. Let us burn his grave in holy fire
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Looks like the conscript and Cannon-friend are gonna ambush the Blue bois
>Prepare empty bottles and stolen Bolt pistol
>The Tau look really fucked up
>jungle got to them
>take aim
>be brother captain Jean-Louis of the Dusk Reavers chapter
>the tyrranid attacks has finally abated
>covered in tyrranid gore, I make my way to the near by Imperial Guard commander
>Commander Oriel Tracka
>climb my way up the massive tree/sniper tower
>I proceed to introduce my self formally and congratulate him and his men for surviving soo long
>briefly look out and seem fire
>good some one is burning off the foliage, that should make fighting ,much more easier for the guardsmen
Commander Tracka, we need a plan. And a good one to if we are to cleanse this word of the xeno and the heretic
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>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Tau entered the kill zone in the exact formation that I predicted they would
>That is why you don't play by the book, kiddies
>Draw my composite bow
>Fire normal arrow, it severs the restraining wire holding the melta bomb in place, it swings down and latches onto the side of the Devilfish
>Fire blunt arrow, hit the activation key on the melta bomb
>Pull pin on a frag grenade taped to an arrow and fire it into the biggest concentration of Fire Warriors, body parts everywhere
>Fire Warriors scatter, several step on mines and toe poppers in the process
>Since the toe poppers were made with bolter shells, they pop more than just the toe/hoof
>Meltabomb detonates, byebye Devilfish
>Some Fire Warriors panic and start firing into jungle, no doubt aiming for the many human sized animals their heat vision sensors are picking up
>Fire more frag grenade arrows, scattering Fire Warriors even further. More step on mines or toe poppers, others flee into the predator filled water or the predator filled swamp
>Grab my knife, bow, and a bunch of poisoned arrows and stalk back into the jungle to help the other Guardsmen and the Crusader finish off the surviving Tau
>Be Guardsman Rock
>see tau
>Start blasting from my area, shredding the fire warriors armor with my cannon
>back up a little out of caution
>Notice Catachan come closer, wave him over while I try to snipe the tau from my position
“Way head of you Captain Jean-Louis. So far the biggest threat being the tyranids, but due to a lack of intel of there forces. As for the rest the traitor Valhallains have been dealt with except for their leader who apparently sneaked out here and into the jungles where he’s likely dead, the orks are apparently coming from a space hulk orbiting the planet, if you could get some of your men to clear it out that would be huge help in stopping them, finally there’s the Tau as far as we can tell they have base of operation, no means of getting off world and little to no information of the planet.”
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>Be Nurgle
>See a planet with many people
>Decide to shower the planet with gifts
>MFW showering the planet with as many gifts as possible
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Picking off Fire Warriors and Pathfinders with my bow and poisoned arrows
>Neck or kidney shots for Fire Warriors, same for Pathfinders, but also groin and thighs
>Spot something shimmer out of the corner of my eye
>XV25 Stealthsuit
>Grab a krak grenade, pull the pin, lob it just as my partially invisible friend is turning my way
>Too slow, robot boy
>Spot some Pathfinders sneaking up on the cannon-armed Guardsman
>Toss my knife deep into one's neck to buy myself a split second to draw my bow and shoot the other two
You got to be more careful in the jungle friend
>Retrieve my knife and cut a rape vine that was sneaking up on him to emphasize my point
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Follow the others to a riverbank where we are apparently going to ambush a bunch of Tau
>Not sure how this will help us stay alive, but probably still safer than wandering the jungle alone
>Comrades start firing on the Tau, who also start walking on the booby-traps everywhere
>Take a few pot shots myself, but mostly stay in cover
>Realize there is rape vines in the bush I am hiding behind
>Fuck this planet
hi dadi
>Be guardsman Rock
>be extra paranoid due to catachan
>constantly turn around and look behind me to make sure I’m safe
>shoot at everything that I think moves at the corner of my eye
>snipe away the rape vines near the Valhallan
I dont feel so good
>Be me, Not so Great leader Bart
>Conscript nearly got hentai'd by vines
>cannon-friend is good fren
>shot the vines before that
>bleeding profusely
>Chug more vodka, surely thathll-
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>nut hab 'nuff teef for WAAAAGH pass
>see other nobz as dey WAAAAAGH ther wae to plannut
>get stukk on brown goo
>Be me, Guardsman Rock
>my current extreme paranoia see vodka frined fall
>run towards him, pick up his sticks
>I pick him up and carry him, hoping help will arrive soon
>take away vodka bottle on his lips so he isnt drenched with the stuff
>Be me.
>Hear a bird of some kind start talking.
>Also hear the sounds of an aproaching army.
>Catachan starts planting mines and toe poppers.
>Decide fuck it.
>Become a bush by lying on the ground and covering self in plant cloak.
>Explosives go off.
>Stand up.
>More mines are going off around me.
>Don't care.
>Two hand sword around, butchering a clearly underrepresented force, even as they kill themselves on the mines or in the forest or stream.
>Go hunting.
>See it.
>An ork, the size of a Leman Russ.
>A most mighty dragon to slay indeed.
>Have to hold myself back from immediately going out swinging.
>It's primed for a fight and wielding a blade that was looted from an Imperial Knight. Too dangerous.
>Decide to watch around the area, in case someone else is in danger, or risk killing it before me.
>*sniff sniff*
>Be Demon Parrot
>Just as planned
>Fly over to the ork "commanding"
>Tell him that you know where the humies are
>Actually lead him into The Tau

>Be brother captain Jean-Louis
>the IG commander gives me a run down on the situation
>its bad, but could certainly be much worse
>reflect on the shit show that was cold shoulder
>We weren't there but, we heard the horror stories
>As he finishes I have a plan
I propose to send my veteran company to board the space hulk with a cyclonic torpedo in town in order to destroy the space hulk, but not before recovering what relics we can. We will also position our strike cruiser and its escorts between the hulk and the planet to block ork reinforcements. The other company and what vehicles we have will assault the Tau Base.
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>be me, Tech-priest enginseer
>pulled from comfy forge world assembly line position to be shipped off to some back water death world that the local priesthood has been having difficulties with
>Magos thinks field work will sharpen our skills and venerate the Omnissiah
>nothing like watching a bunch of meatbags violate innocent machinery
>worst of all stuck with brother Davos
>constantly consorting with the fleshlings
>can't keep his mechadendrites to himself
>finally arrive a planet
>"having difficulties" is an insufficient term
>local garrison spending most of it's time fighting itself
>xenos everywhere
>local priesthood is either dead or attempting to interface with fluid dispensaries incorrectly
>machine spirits having nervous breakdowns from horrific mistreatment by the meatbags
>Brother Davos already gathering up female wounded
>I swear if he's making more of his perverse servitors again...
>humidity fogging up my optics
>spores clogging up my rebreather
>mud defiling my mechadendrites
>I hate field work
>Be Brother Captain Jean-Louis
>be preparing my veteran company to board the thunderhawks to assault the space hulk
>have the Cyclonic torpedo ready too
>notice a few tech priests
>they most certainly will be useful to gather up relics before blowing the damned hulk to hell
>I proceed to invite them on my expedition
>Be spiked minnow
>Must find small tight warm space to embed myself and lay eggs
>Here is one
>Be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansian Company
>some of the astartes left to take care of the orks
>some of the bodies are missing
>why are all the missing one women?
>order a search for there corpses
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>be Tech-priest enginseer
>had to torch a another batch Brother Davos's disgusting servitors
>he was not happy
>meatbags are already getting suspicious
>if they found out Omnissiah knows what would have happened
>might tear us apart
>or demand more
>not sure what would be worse
>would have slagged Davos too if he wasn't the Magos's little cherub
>need to get rid of him
>marines stationed here wants priests to aid in destruction of the orbiting space hulk
>offer up Davos as "technical expert"
>he can't refuse, I disabled his wi-fi
>with any luck he'll die sticking his mechadendrites where they don't belong
>finally have a chance to take stock of the situation
>run inventory protocol
>several "servitors" unaccounted for
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bump. I love these threads
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>be me, Archon Dykevil of the Flensed Phallus
>kabalites busy torturing another camp on the planet
>no one has tracked us yet, so far so good
>mostly dick torture... again
>no wonder other Kabals laugh at us
>but never fails to rile up the mon'keighs
>bored grab nearby mon'keigh before work starts
>he looks relieved
>I toss him into nearby rape plant
>ponder the true meaning of consent
>notice mon'keigh in plant is making odd noises
>bet the fucker is enjoying it
>get mad and rip him out
>fuming, order homunculus to make an example of him
>replace his dick with venomous rape lemur and set him loose in the jungle
>look at rape plant and jump in
> was right, fucker was enjoying it
>relax in rape plant and wait for kabalites to wrap up
>Be T'au Pathfinder Shas'la
>Be marooned on some jungle world after the Imperial Navy beat our fleet again
>Not even sure why we are on this world, the senior Shas'Os and the Ethereals all died before anyone told our current commanders
>Kroot support never arrived
>Despite superior technology, we seem to be doing even worse in the jungle than the Imperials
>Lose soldiers to the jungle, to Imperials, to Dark Eldar, to Orks, to Tyranids, and to Necron daily
>We attack Imperial bases since not sure what else to do, also they have supplies to commandeer
>Manage to overrun several smaller bases, but during our first big attack, Imperials get a huge wave of reinforcements just as we are attacking
>We probably would have been wiped out if the Imperials hadn't started fighting each other
>Luckily the savages have no concept of the Greater Good
>Commander calls a retreat back into the jungle, but we continue to lose soldiers to Dark Eldar and Imperial commandos
>Get separated from my squad
>Find myself in a clearing full of Dark Eldar and tortured humans
>Not good
>be me, Archon Dykevil relaxing in my rape plant
>it's squirming all over trying to get in, a pleasant massage by drukhari standard
>kabalites almost done with the mon'keigh
>feel their suffering radiating towards me
>underlings start pointing and laughing
>see lone pathfinder, start laughing too
>cut self free from plant with spiky armour and huskblade
"Get the Tau!"
>going to show pathfinder entire collection of Aun Girls are for big ork/mon'keigh/genestealer/ambul cock videos
>the T'au should make for a nice change of pace
>be me Oriel Tracka, commander of the 10th Kansain company
>finds the bodies
>they're all charred and mechanical pieces
>remember some tech priest arrived recently
>order for them to be hunted down and their legs to severed from their bodies

>waiting for more developments before posting again
Same, or make a new character
no one is post as the nercon lord by any chance?
Don't think so, there's one guy that occasionally posts as a grumpy cryptek angry about people shitting up his lawn, unless that's what you're referring to.
hmmm. which faction doesn't have a guy playing as their leader
>Be T'au Pathfinder Shas'la
>Some Dark Eldar woman relaxing in a patch of what the Gue'vesa call "rape vine" seems to be in charge
>she orders her henchmen to grab me
>Turn around and flee back into the jungle
>Run past some naked human who has an angry animal grafted to his groin where his genitals used to be
>Bet the Dark Eldar did that
>He starts chasing me as well, it looks like he has some insanity inducing contagious disease
>Come to a large slow moving river
>These things often contain predators and parasites of various types, including the dreaded "spiked minnow", "mud sharks", and giant amphibians
>Don't really have a choice, start wading across
>Hopefully the threat of unpleasant wildlife lurking beneath the surface will keep away my pursuers
>Also hopefully they don't have any anti-grav vehicles with them
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>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>One of the last remaining Tau tries to surrender
>Kick it off a small ledge into a pit of rape vines
>No point in wasting ammo on cowards
>The armored Catachan woman has disappeared off somewhere after killing off a cluster of Tau with her sword
>One of the guardsmen is trying to carry the other off the battlefield, while the third is hiding behind a bush somewhere
>Luckily for them the battle is basically over, the few Tau remaining are covered in rape vines, or writhing in agony from spiked minnow encounters
>At least thirty Tau dead or disabled, not bad for a hastily planned ambush
>Grab my bow and set off to finish any Tau that look like they may be able to recover from their injuries
>Be Vivian Vanderbilt, 13th Britannica Rifles "The Bluebloods"
>Still slowly sinking into the quicksand
>Suddenly a bunch of tentacles pop out of the mud
>Rape Vines!
>So now instead of suffocating in mud, I am going to be trapped under the mud while the rape vines keep me alive to nurture their eggs
>Rumor has it that patrols have dug up soldiers from quicksand who were thought lost weeks ago
>And we have only been on the planet for a few weeks, so who knows how long they can keep someone alive for under the mud!
>Try to struggle free but only quicken the speed at which I am sinking into the mud
>Spot some Tau run past, followed by some guy with a lemur grafted to his groin, then some Dark Eldar
>A couple of the Dark Eldar stop to laugh at me
>Fuck my life
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>Be General Grimm, Cadian Shock Troops
>Been fighting all my life for the survival of the Imperium
>Just like my forefathers for the past two centuries since the destruction of Cadia
>Just like my ancestors for ten millennium since the defeat of the traitor Horus
>And this is how they repay me!
>Sending my regiment off to die over some worthless deathworld just because some Rogue Trader with connections owns some mineral rights which may not even be commercially viable!
>Very well, so be it
>Do my best to use the slow stream of reinforcements they send me to scourge this world clean of the Tau, Tyranids, and Orks that have become marooned here by the recent fleet action
>Then the Necron start awakening, shifting the odds of victory from small to almost non-existent
>Even worse, conflicts elsewhere it the subsector have diverted my stream of reinforcements
>Aside from a few ships believed delayed or lost during Warp transit, we are our own with not nearly enough men to fight this type of war of attrition
>Orbital strikes have been banned since this area is geologically unstable, and lance strikes and macrocannon barrages will likely destabilize the thin crust and destroy the very mineral pockets that we fight for
>Withdrawing from the planet and coming back later when greater numbers are available would probably be the most efficient option, but I will be damned before the Lord Generals hear such a suggestion from my mouth
>Instead have my forces hunker down in their bases and sell their lives as dearly as possible
>But then, long range patrols from the Catachan Regiment report that a major Necron ruin has been spotted
>Thousands of Necron Warriors are flooding from the entrance every hour, and there are likely millions beneath the surface
>Some sort of energy shield protects it from aerial and space bombardments, while even the newly arrived Space Marines would likely struggle with the sheer numbers of Necrons in that area
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>Finally! An objective worth fighting for!

The Plan:

>We must force our way into the Tomb and detonate it from the inside, otherwise more Necrons will awaken and make retaking this world far more costly
>A shuttle or Valkyrie lift would have been preferable, but due to massive losses from anti-air units hiding in the jungle, we barely have enough shuttles to get our remaining units in space onto the ground, and not nearly enough Valkyries to transport tens of thousands of men to the objective in a timely fashion
>It looks like we will have to do things the old fashion way, on foot
>Order my elite Cadian regiment and the assorted B-list local regiments that form Division A to head southeast on foot, where we will join forces with the dysfunctional clusterfuck that is Division B
>Good thing Division B's general recently died in the infighting, since I would have killed him myself for being such a moronic martinet
>Although I acknowledge the fact that some of the Valhallans were undisciplined and a few even (drunkenly) declared that they would secede from the Imperium, the majority of them managed to hold off retaliating when Division B's general ordered the entire Valhallan Regiment arrested
>And 2/3rds of the Valhallan Regiment is still in orbit and waiting to deploy
>Given that they are our largest surviving regiment now by a significant margin, I order a temporary amnesty for earlier crimes
>It is not like many of us will survive the coming campaign anyways
>Once we gather the Division B rabble, we will head northeast to the Division C base under the command of the notoriously effete Britannica Bluebloods
>Division C is barely more competent than Division B, but at least they aren't fighting each other
>Also most of the Catachan are based there

The Plan Part 2:

>With all three divisions plus support corps gathered into one giant blob, we might just have enough manpower to survive the massive attrition losses we will likely face thanks to likely skirmishes with Tau, Dark Eldar, Tyranids, Necrons, and Orks, not to mention various jungle hazards, during the long march east to the Necron Tomb site
>Hopefully by then, the Dusk Reavers will finish up with the Ork Space Hulk and join us there, though any assistance the can provide in the meantime would be appreciated
>Same for the cogboys hanging around the Division B camp, though I have heard some strange rumors of their activities lately
>be Brother Captain Jean-Louis of the Dusk Reavers chapter
>the veteran company has final departed with the tech priests in tow.
>its was about time as one of those tech priests game me the creeps
>now it is time to move on to the near by Tau base
>I and my men board our Rhinos and Preditors. With I my self taking a seat in the copula of our Land Raider.
>on our way there we receive word the IG has located and is moving on the necron tomb complex
>perhaps when we are finished here, we will assist them
>very soon we arrive
>with the Tau fort in sight I yell
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Get orders to rejoin the rest of the regiment at Division C base
>Good thing I was heading there anyways
>Indicate to my companions where I am heading
>They can either follow me or head back to the clusterfuck of idiots that is Division B (not that Division C is much better, or Division A for that matter)
>Time to go for a little hike
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>be me, craftworld sniper
>get told about this assignment where I have to take out a high value target on what the monkeigh call a "death world"
>arrive there on a cloaked shuttle
>assess the situation
>possible necrons
>shit loads of monkeigh
>oh and the drukhari
>bloody Slaanesh spawning hedonists
>find a spot where I hopefully don't get spotted by anything with braincells
>wait for target
>mfw I know this is going to take forever
>be rape vine
>be hanging from the branches of a tree
>sense something with body heat in a tree
>it looks like a human, but with pointy ears
>fuck it, I can still impregnate it with my offspring
>my victim doesn't notice my approach
>coil around my victims leg
>Be Trooper Sasha, Valhallan Ice Warriors
>Somehow the five of us took on thirty plus Tau and lived
>Admittedly the Catachan did most of the work but still
>Watch in morbid fascination as a Tau Pathfinder gets all its holes stuffed with rape vines before being dragged into the mud
>Better you than me blueboy
>The Catachan tells me he has new orders to head to the Division C base
>Never much liked the Britannicans, but better be there than at Division B base
>Or lost in the jungle...
>Briefly wonder where the other two guardsmen and the Crusader got to, but don't want to wander off looking for them and get left behind by the Catachan
>It shouldn't be too hard to follow us though, just follow the dead bodies
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>Be Nurse Amelie Blanchette of the Munitorium Support Corps attached to the Imperial Guard forces on Y'Es
>Been stuck on this wretched planet for weeks now at Division B headquarters
>Definitely the worse days of my life by a significant margin
>Spend 20 hours a day extracting spiked minnows from unfortunate soldiers, suturing up gashes from razor leaf, and treating all manner of animal bites
>At least I am not in the biohazard tent where they send people with those ghastly flesh rotting diseases, and those effected by tyranid bioweapons
>And then of course there was the mini-civil war that occurred in the midst of the Tau/Necron/Tyranid attack, but we are not supposed to talk about that anymore
>My supervisor gets concerned about the reports of female bodies going missing from the morgue and possible connections to a crazed tech priest
>Wants me to go check it out
>Well that is just fricking great
>Find myself outside of a tent with "Keep Out" signs everywhere
>Apparently the tech priest in question was assigned to check out the Space Hulk so it should be safe
>Look inside tent
>Bodies everywhere
>He is REDACTED and removing REDACTED
>He is also adding or increasing the size of their REDACTED, and dressing them up in REDACTED
>The smell of REDACTED and REDACTED is everywhere
>Even worse, some of them aren't even REDACTED
>The nearest one turns to me and REDACTED
+30 Insanity Points
>Puke, then run away as fast as I can
>Report findings to supervisor who tells me to tell no one while he passes along the findings to the proper authorities
>Go back to the medic tent to dig out some more spiked minnows and try my best to pretend nothing happened
>Be me, Guardsman Rock
>Find put where we need to go and general location
>I drag vodka friend towards the medic tents, finding a nurse
>Ask her where I put him as I temporarily put him in a empty bed
>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>Be dipping in and out of consciousness
>Head still bleeding like a motherfucker
>Apparently there was a general that is actually trying to fix this clusterfuck
>don't know much else cuz me head
>In medic tent
>Other people very fucked up
>Such is life
>Be Fire Warrior Shas'ui
>Been stuck on this dump of a planet for the past few months
>Somehow survive all the craziness, mostly because I am posted at one of the few decent sized bases we have on the planet
>Hear rumbling noise
>Bunch of Imperial vehicles come bursting out of the jungle and through the clearing we have burnt around our base
>Recognize the one heavy tank design and multiple light tank designs preferred by the Gue'ron'sha
>Strange how many of their elite warriors prefer to travel in vehicles that are even worse than those used by their cannon fodder
>Unfortunately we don't have any anti-armor to take advantage of their vehicle's light armor, most of our vehicles and mechs are away attacking one of the Imperial bases, leaving just a garrison force of infantry, Piranhas, and a few flamer equipped Crisis Suits to protect the members of the other castes from the perils of the jungle
>Still, we have no choice but to do our best for the Greater Good
>Nearby Fire Warrior squads rush over to the man the Tidewall Shieldlines facing that direction
>Perhaps the sheer number of pulse shots can damage some of their vehicles and allow others enough time to get into position
>Be Nurse Amelie Blanchette, Munitorium Support Corps, Division B
>Still trying to block the memories from what was in the tech priest's tent from my mind
>Some weirdo with a cannon for an arm comes in with a Valhallan with leg stumps made of sticks
>They look more than a bit like the ringleaders of the recent uprising
>Pretty sure that the amnesty that the General extended to the Valhallans doesn't extend to these two
>Wave them over to a spare bed, before coming up with some sort of excuse to go find my supervisor
>Today has been exciting for all the wrong reasons
>be tech-priest enginseer
>forced to sneak around base to do work
>meatbags found the bodies
>their not happy
>pray daily that something on that damnable hulk will get Davos
>successful dug out a makeshift manufactory within the bunker complex
>tunnels are so confusing the meatbags will never find it
>will finally be able to work in peace
>still can't find the missing "servitors"
>Hear blood curdling scream
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>Still on route to Division C headquarters
>The Valhallan woman is following me, but the two males decided to double back to Division B, and the Catachan Crusader has disappeared somewhere
>Skirt around a bunch of giant rape spiders and their maze of webs, doing their thing to some Tau trapped in webs
>Briefly wonder why every second plant or animal on this planet reproduces by laying its eggs in live prey
>It is almost like this planet was designed by a bunch of fetishists or something
>Spot a couple of Necron stomping through the jungle
>Have never fought Necron before so don't fully understand their capabilities, this will be a learning experience
>Use hand gestures to indicate that the Valhallan woman should set up on a nearby ridge, before hastily planting a few mines and my demolition charge
>Disappear behind some trees and wait for the Necrons to trudge into the kill zone
>Be General Grimm, Cadian Shock Troops
>Slowly advancing towards the Division B base along with the rest of Division A
>My spies at Division B base report that the fighting between the Valhallans, Kansians, and Epsilic Eagles has ended, though there is still deep suspicion of what the Adeptus Mechanicus is up to
>The Dusk Reavers have split their forces in between raiding the Space Hulk, and attacking one of the Tau bases near Division B
>Losses during the march of Division A have been heavy, but the sheer number of men on the move has helped reduce raids and animal attacks, while the large number of flamers and herbicide sprayers near the front lines has helped clear away dangerous plants and slow moving animals
>Perhaps this may work after all
>Be Chad McThunder, Catachan Jungle Fighters
>The first Necron steps on a plasma charge, triggering a superheated blast that incinerates most of the target
>Another triggers one of the spring mines, the blast tearing the Warrior to pieces, though as expected, the cloud of metal fragments isn't nearly as effective against the other Necrons as it would be against most other opponents
>The Valhallan woman fires some shots with her lasgun, but the shots just cause minor damage to their exotic metal frame
>She seems to realize her mistake, and the next few shots are much brighter, indicating she is now firing at the maximum setting
>But even these high powered shots only cause moderate damage
>A volley of green energy beams forces her deeper into cover
>Worried that my bolter won't be highly effective either, I switch to my bow and krak grenade arrows
>Pull the pin, wait a second, then fire a krak grenade arrow with just the right timing so that grenade detonates on impact
>The powerful concussive force, usually meant for taking out vehicles, blasts pieces of Necron all over the jungle
>Repeat the process for the next two Necron, but now out of krak grenades, and the remaining five Necron are shooting at me
>Fall back to my secondary ambush point, causing two more Necron Warriors to hit mines as they move to pursue me
>Remaining Necrons chase me into a narrow crevasse
>Wait until all three are inside before detonating the hidden demolition charge and burying them in rubble
>Head back to the initial ambush site to finish off the damaged Warriors, but they all have disappeared or are slowly reassembling themselves
>Decide simply to leave the area, their slow speed and lack of intelligence seems to be their only weaknesses
>Be Guardsman Rock
>Notice the nurse doesn't look alright
>Walk to her while she is leaving
>"are you alright?" I ask, my expression calm but confused
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>Be me, Not-so Great leader Bart
>I don't feel so good.puke
>head hurts
>remove trusty ushanka
>touch wound
>I can feel my brain.oops
"Yo doc, is it normal that I can feehl my bra-"
>mfw I might be dying
>Be Nurse Amelie Blanchette, Munitorium Support Corps, Division B
>The rebel ringleader without legs has passed out due to a head wound and the cannon armed guy is badgering me about if I am okay
>Wonder if his is picking up on my nervousness about being associated with two traitors, or the incident from earlier, or both
>Tell him that I am going to go find a doctor to check his friend's head injury
>Head outside tent, there is a lot more running around and screaming than usual
>Lithe, barely clothed figures are attacking the base from flying boards and bikes, while others jump from larger flying skiffs
>They seem to be taking people alive whenever they can, and binding them to the flying skiffs with coils of barbed wire
>Realize they are probably the "Dark Eldar" who have long been rumored to be on the planet somewhere, but yet to be seen in person
>Until now
>Supposedly being captured alive by them is a fate worst than any on this planet, which is saying something
>Run off and find somewhere to hide
>Be guardsman Rock
>hear all this shit happening outside
>I run out, cannon charging and then shoot the biggest guy I see
>change to rapid fire and shoot into the black knife ear crowds
>their armour barley defending them as I their skin is exposed for another strike
>run towards the defending group once I’m done with my section to help them kill the bigger masochist fucks
>be me Oriel tracka, commander of division B
>great now the eldar are attacking
>start firing at anyone that seems important
>gets one of them died and there body gets dragged away by one of the rape vines
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>Be me, Not-so great leader Bart
>Still be bleeding out
>Brain damage.fanboy&chumchum
>brain is poking out even more
>Some knife ear standing in front of me
>Why me?
>It's just standing there
>it's rubbing me leg
>I hope it just puts me out of my misery
>Realize it's probably the rape-torture variation of the knife ears
>mfw pic related
>be me Guardsman Rock, killing the elves like they where clay pigeons
>look towards the medic tent,see its open
>I run into it, fully charging a normal shot
>I slide to the back of the sad excuse of a superior head, oveheating cannon barrel almost pressing into its head
>Be me, Not-so great leader Bart
>Cannon friend saved me from getting buttfucked with a chainsword
>Still bleeding out
>Sip vodka in celebration
>Congratulate Cannon friend on his marksmanship
>once again become unconscious
>Be Guardsman Rock
>seeing that my friend is safe and I made a hole in the tent I ran back out into the battle
>I make my area the medical tents and proceeds to defend them with head shots and overpowered dakka
>be Eldar sniper
>still waiting for target
>feel something on leg
>probably some vine
>look down, correct in my guess
>it's still moving
>be thousands of years too old for this shit
>take out knife and cut it in one quick quiet slice
>can't have it giving away my position
>keep waiting
>still no sign of target
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>be me
>serving in a mixed regiment
Deserved it lmao. Fucking faggots having women fight for you.
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>Be me, Khornate Berserker Kyle
>Bolter jammed thanks to mud
>Fuck my life
>Only thing protecting me from spiked minnows is my armor
>See big group of imperial guard
>And dark eldar
>Literally the only chaos in planet
>Trip due to vine
>Resume my charge toward the enemy with my chain axe
>Be Captain Braquemard of the 1st air Damnatus air superiority regiment
>Send to a Jungle with nids and crons and blueberries
>Well I'm used to it
>T'was like that in Damnatum Lutum
>Our spaceship arrived two hours ago and we received our orders
>Destroy the necron tomb
>Take place in thunderbolt
>Can't seee tomb too much jungle
>Good thing trees burn to prometheum
>Start bombing jungle
>Be guardsman Rock
>notice someone taking pot shots at our forces
>With a few seconds of peace I line up a charge shot at the sniper and fire
>Go back towards defending the tents from anyone who wants to get a cheap kill
>be brother captain Jean Louis of the Dusk Reavers
>we have final began our attack on the Tau fortress
>our predator tanks are blasting away at their fortifications
>with this I and my battle brothers charge forward into their trench works
>as we do we engage in honorable melee combat
>their feeble 'fire warriors' stand little chance
>As I enter the trench works I turn many of them into blue paste with my Master crafted thunder hammer
>even a few of their drones try to take me on
>but they do little more than chip my pain as swat them like insects with my hammer
>I just finish smearing the ground with yet another fire warrior when I hear a thud behind me
>it is a XV8
>finally a worthy opponent
>be me, Ogryn Bill
>Bill want smack bug for empor
>get drafted, put on ship for long crooz
>on big ship guardsman Phil call Bill uggo
>Bill rearrange Phil skelton into walking cumsock
>Commy-sur get mad and yell at Bill but shoot Phil, say Bill too loyal to shoot
>Bill just want eat potate and help empor smack bug
>nineteen monfs 2 go on ship
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>Be captain Braquemard of the 1st Damnatus air superiority regiment
>Saw a tree grab one thunderbird with vines
>Oh yeah they told us on the briefing room that everything wants to put a parasyte or some shit in you
>Guess we should considération trees as AA batteries
>Thus burning more of them
>Check where the hell is rest of the Imperium troops
>Once again the trees are hiding them
>Hear on the vox that Sven dropped a promethium bomb near a column of troop of our allies
>Well here they are
>Give some excuse via vox and ask where to they want us to bomb
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>be Hive Tyrant.
>Just born
>Where am I? Who are my parents, what is my p-
>Feel hungry
>Know what my purpose is.
>Hear voices of countless other thing's in my mind.
>Hear great voice talking to me
>Tells me to prepare the Flesh
>Notice Tyranid warriors and gaunts around me
>Also just born
>stalk through Jungle,lots of prey to snack on
>Smell something
>Voice in my head says it's a Pheremone Trail left behind by "a Vanguard"
>Tells me it leads to food.
>Follow it, find Biomorphs
>Metal weapons, wearing things on their bodies
>Spring out and start eating one
>Termagants shoot the others
>Hear voice in my head getting louder
>Tfw meeting family for first time soon.
>Be XV8 pilot
>this armoured Gue’vesa has been wrecking my forces
>once I dropped I kicked them away and start blasting
>Be ripper
>Be on a tree
>grow big with each bite
>be half as big as tree
>happily eat more trees
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>be me, big ol ummie
>born green
>me thinks me a mutant
>good 'a rippn
>good 'a blastn
>join up with da guard and me mates
>get drop out da big metal box tanka
>start combat
>me fellow ummie mates scared
>me havin a good time
>havin a good time
>be me, historographian drelk at Segmentum Archives
>trip on a servo-skull and drop papers
>lose the detailed record of this conflict forever.
>Oh well onto filing the next war into a cabinetorium.
>be Ripper
>continue to nom on trees
>soon be able to nom entire trees
>create clearings
>be me plague champion corona
>named after some ancient plague from terra
>arrive in orbit of shitty jungle planet with many new test subjects for nurgles gifts
>order the troops to get to the drop pods
>also dropping blight grenades because way not

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