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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>Be me, Marco Scumbag of the 221st Penal Legion
>Convicted for general underhive scum activities on Sevastopol
>Been with the 221st for about ten months now. Fucking sucks as all hell.
>The Lord Commissar has us trudge through all kinds of hell, sometimes we are land mine clearers other times we are sent running to spam up damage that would be directed to armoured companies.
>Seen many convicts die, unfortunately there's one who won't fucking die already
>His name's Chris, don't know his last name but I just call him twat face
>Literally will never shut up about how excited he is to murder female enemy combatants
>Hope this next engagement will kill him
>Lord Commissar tells us we are being deployed to forgeworld Koronus to assist the 34th Cadian artillery company and 108th armoured battalion as well as Admech forces to push back against an Ork invasion
>Finally a battle that will keep Twat Face quiet
>I really ought to have killed him at this point but our overseers are very trigger happy to execute us so I don't want to risk it.
>Pray to the Emperor Twat Face bites it as well as for the usual protection and other assorted Ecclesiastical crap
>Arrive at Koronus, just after lunch no less
>Lunch was just the regular slop we are given, doesn't even have corpse starch in it
>Fairly sure it's just water and condensed mud from an Agri world mixed together
>Navy Armsmen and the Lord Commissar's lackies load all fifteen thousand of us onto various ships to transport us down below.
>Thankfully didn't share one with Twat Face
>Upon landing the air immediately hits my lungs
>Smell of burning promethium and autocannon rounds
>Still better than the smell of decaying Tyranid in my opinion
>We are escorted by officers to a separate station to be briefed by our new commanding officers and our current officers
>It takes us a while to all line up seeing as there are alot of us, it's gotten to the point where there are server skull speakers at each line of legionnaire
>Thankfully we aren't walking straight into landmines
>Instead we are ordered to act as regular infantry for the armoured units to act without fear of getting locked up by Ork forces or destroyed by rokkits.
>Lord Commissar also warns us that tank commanders and any gunner can execute us if we even think about running
>Our entire allied forces are now our Commissars
No one cares.
Keep going

Ignore the fag
this is what /the/ used to be like. Instead of
>how do you run "insart lame rpg concept"
Yeah I hate those bumpfagged threads
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>Be me, X-Zeta-2345 Dragoon "easy".
>So named because my name is "easy" to remember.
>Happy to finally get a chance to hoon around on M-Zeta-2345. She's happy as always to be installed and get her legs and eyes and things back.
>Turns out new attritional ratings due to cryo-storage ritual appeasement errors means I'm now the designated Alpha of my triarial squadron. And I can order the other two to move wherever I designate.
>Apparantly Orks are the issue this time, though I'm half as worried about what are apparantly unaugemented, untouched human meat conscripts treading my hallowed and beloved stomping grounds. By which I mean the exterior surface of the place of course, as I do not own nor control any of the production facilities.
>For now though, I get to run around, directing my little pack, and wack targets with my taser lance prod thingy.
>Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. I hope I don't run into any filthy meat conscripts with no veneration for the Omnissiah.
>Once briefing is over we are directed over to the armoury to arm up
>Turns out the Admech are being generous to us
>We are given flak armour and lasguns, however there's a catch as usual
>The Flak armour is of extremely low quality, this shit wouldn't even deflect a knife attack
>As for the Lasguns, yeah good luck getting one fully charged.
>Most of these are older models and are practically half spent
>Nothing a bit of recharging can't fix but seeing as we'll be marched off immediately into the killing Fields we more than likely don't have time to recharge the battery packs
>But hey at least it's something
>Last time we were only armed with rusted melee weapons and told to charge into a Tau gun line that was extremely well fortified whilst a line of Guard followed behind us
>Casualty list was so bad we had to restock up on convicts
>Get my flak armour and lasgun from the armoury
>The Engineseer is giving me dirty looks, j think. I can't tell these cog boys aren't very readable
>Unlike the Cadians however who show their discomfort and contempt extremely well
>Hear one of my mates get into a verbal disagreement with one
>Apparently the Cadian shoved him and told him he was gutter trash that didn't deserve the Emperor's mercy
>Big mistake on the Cadian's part, the guy he shoved is a Zealot from Argaela, he was convicted for starting one too many crusades on his world.
>Zealot beings a rant where he condemns the guardsman for speaking ill of the Emperor and how he doesn't deserve his mercy when that's literally why he's in the 221st
>He also insults the Cadian for bringing up about how none of us would have survived on Cadia.
>"We may be condemned by our Holy Emperor, and we may be nothing more than gutter scum but we are fighters, ones who gladly die in the Emperor's name. We rush forward into the bowels of death itself meanwhile you sit back and fire away with artillery shells. Who are you to tell us we aren't worthy whilst you sit behind these lines?"
>Zealot's legs tremble with passion as he preaches, it's probably how he was able to start up many crusades.
>Well either that or his aging body is causing the trembles. He is getting close to sixty five, making him the second oldest in the 221st
>Before the altercation gets violent our Commissar steps in.
>Well it was nice knowing Zealot I suppose
>The Commissar stands at six foot two inches from my rough estimation and he normally shows us a cold hardened face that actively despises our existence. His glaring bionic eye and tendency to execute us has most of us shit scared of the guy.
>Surprisingly he doesn't immediately execute Zealot and instead breaks the two up, Zealot doesn't go unpunished however and is sent to be flogged for getting rowdy.
>The Cadian spits to the ground directing it towards Zealot. The Commissar doesn't care for this and leads Zealot to where he'll be getting flogged
>Zealots probably thinking the Emperor told our Commissar to leave him alive and just flog him compared to the normal put a round in his head mentality he normally has. Well either that or he just needs more bodies to throw at the Orks
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>Now that we all armed, we begin to march out to the battle zone followed behind by the 108th's armour
>I see Zealot in one of the leading lines, seems the flogging further motivated him to seek the Emperor's forgiveness.
>Seems one thing our Commanders forgot to tell us was that there would also be a small bunch of Admech forces working with us, as to my left I see some of them in those big sentinel looking thinks.
>They aren't actually sentinels but we don't get taught much about Admech stuff because the Commissar deems it as unnecessary information
>In the distance we hear lasgun fire and the sounds of Orks as we reach the front lines, well it's more or less the third line but hey details
>Once we arrive the Commissar immediately gets us to replace our allies and open fire upon the xenos. Whilst our allies that were firing fall back to resupply back at point alpha.
>Man it feels good to fire a weapon watching the bolts of light all fire out in unison towards the enemy. Shame we'll be forced to shoot and move in a bit once the former defenders fall back
>Once they have all fallen back we are ordered to march out.
>I see Zealot muttering prayers whilst Twat Face is in a sour mood because his favourite targets aren't on the field. Meanwhile I am ready, lasgun gripped and eyes looking forward. Good luck everyone
>With the bolt round of the Commissar fired scoring a hit on an Ork, we charge out screaming "FOR THE EMPEROR", lasguns firing out into the green tide which is beginning a counter charge
>Tanks behind us start opening fire with their turrets and main guns as we rush forward into the maws of death firing at anything green and very very mean
>Progress is steady as we advance artillery is beginning to rain down from the skies to the Ork's backline just incase they have any sufficient anti tank weapons
>Our lasguns may lack significant charge but mass shots against relatively unarmoured enemies works well enough
>The Green skins are relentless however and continue to push forward, firing their crude as all hell guns into us, well we are meat shields as well so it was only natural.
>Each convict slain just keeps us moving forward more fearful of the guys behind us than the forces ahead of us. Not too dissimilar to the Green Skins actually, which I'm glad I didn't say out loud the Commissar would have been fuming for making the comparison
>A downside to us dying is the squabbling for the Lasguns that gets dropped, thankfully the matters are finished quickly before anyone gets executed but if mass amounts of us die it might slow our advance
>As I fire I hear one of the convicts at front scream, "MEGANOBZ INBOUND"
>Sure enough I see the Meganobz, they tower over their smaller kin and and decked out in heavy armour, stuff our lasguns won't even be able to dent.
>Hopefully the tanks aim directly at them
>The Nobz open fire with both bullet and fire, there are around thirty from my count and they are burning through the front line with their guns, anyone who survive the fire and bullets is met with a circular saw that rips and tears into them, the flak armour being more of a suggestion to the Orks
>I continue to fire aiming some of my shots towards the Meganobz to see if I can actually harm them to keep some of the front alive. However my shots just plink off and I am forced to continue to fire at the other Orks
>Thankfully however the tanks direct their turret guns towards the Meganobz whilst the main cannons continue to blow apart the other Orks
Is this a fucking storytime thread? It's been ages.
>Tanks begin to take down some of the Meganobz
>Tank orders are being screamed out by a relatively cute Cadian, shame she'd probably kill me for saying that out loud
>At least her gunner crews are accurate and dealing with the Meganobz, wish they were quicker at killing them seeing as most of the frontline are screaming or charred. Zealot seems fine however well he was until the circular saw got lodged in his chest and tore him apart.
>He didn't die in vain though as he lodged a grenade into his killer's open face plate and blew him to kingdom come. How the hell he got that grenade I am not so sure, probably asked one of the Preachers if he could have one to take his killer down with him in righteous fury. I'm gonna miss the old bastard.
>Hear an order from the tank commander, also hear a shot from the main battle cannon of her tank and a couple others. Seems like she's tired of just having the turrets deal with the Meganobz and has turned their main guns to the Meganobz
>I'm not complaining though, less of them to deal with thankfully as well as Zealot probably being the happiest dead guy in the world. He's also probably laughing at that artillery loader from beyond the grave.
>Boyz smash against some of my fellow convicts locking them in melee, which they do decently well at fending off, using their guns as clubs much to the annoyance of one of the guys on top of the Sentinel looking things
>Another order rings out this time from our Commissar tells us to open fire on the Orks locked in melee even if it means shooting our own men, this is acceptable so I start aiming for Ork heads to try and minimise causalities, unfortunately Twat Face isn't in the crowd because if he was I would happily misfire and score him and an Ork in the process.
>The Meganobz are all dealt with by the tanks but the melee is still fierce the Commissar ordering the second line to assist in the melee meaning I'm diving straight in
>Ramming my bayonet into the Orks I provide assistance to my fellow convicts, it's not very effective but each stab to the face of the Orkoids followed up by consecutive stabs from others as well as consecutive shots provided they don't hit you, deals with the Orks in no time.
>Melee locking cleared we are ordered to keep moving tanks following behind us and providing more support as we see more and more green skins and some weird gnashing ball things charging again, some aren't even brandishing melee weapons and are charging in with their guns with bayonets on the end.
>I would be insulted that they are imitating the Imperial Guard style but then I'd be a hypocrite because the 221st is an insult to the Guard along with every other Penal Legion
>Artillery shells and tank shells from demolisher cannons hit the advancing orks and their weird gnashing ball things whilst our lasguns also continue to fire, although it's starting to die down significantly as the charge packs are depleting with each shot, at this rate we'll be out of charge in no time and it's extremely concerning especially because mine is running low and there are very little lasguns to nick from the dead convicts.
>Make it worse the Cog boys aren't exactly helping out much and seem to just be glaring at us for our use of the Lasguns. Not sure why the cogs don't hold them to the same esteem as a vehicle and other guns. I think
>Soon I hear the sounds of engines as smashing through the Ork hordes are Orks on bikes with even some of their grots riding on the tracks of a tank vehicle, can't tell which one though.
>I keep firing until eventually it's gone. I have no ammo left. I only have my fists and bayonet. Not exactly useful for taking down bikes.
>I briefly think about taking one of the Orks weapons but that would definitely end up in an execution for heresy. So melee it is as I proceed to fist fight a grot which is the most pathetic thing I've ever done in my life
>I curbstomp the Grot's head against the floor hearing a slight giggle from an Ork who thinks it's hilarious
>He then gets his brains blown out by a bolt round from the Commissar who's glaring at us to keep moving.
>From the fifteen thousand of us that landed on planet there's around ten thousand of us left. But I feel like an end for today's combat is insight as the tanks and artillery demolish the bikes and Orks.
>Soon enough one of the Orks on a bike calls his fellow Orks to fall back which some follow but others keep fighting on which we are slowly dealing with as the tanks have turned their attention to help us finally deal with them.
>However these Orks are pissed at their kin for running and are fighting bitterly against us, each smack, slash, stab and round pisses them off more and more. Leading to more and more of my guys getting butchered from ten thousand to nine thousand and one.
>The tanks' heavy Bolters take out the last hundred Orks giving us some relief from all the fighting, any still left start running but are gunned down by turret fire and our Commissar.
>But we don't get the satisfaction of relaxing as the Commissar prepares new orders for us as chimeras arrive.
>We are to set up a trench line that we will hold until we are told to go charge again, thankfully we all have experience with this kind of job. Back on Torkalyn 9, we were sent to build trenches for the Catachan 76th, well they didn't use them and it was all a big distraction whilst the Catachan's dealt with the enemy forces that were distracted by us.
>The work is grueling and dirty but hey as Zealot once said we are condemned in the Emperor's eyes and must work off our debts we owe him, ours just happen to have interest rates on it.
>As I work I see from the corner of my eye, the Commissar talking to the Tank Commander, I turn my attention back to work however before they could catch me. I didn't hear a word of what they said but it was probably some plans. She's still cute
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>After a good grueling eight hours it's finally completed, a long trenchline reinforced with all the necessities a trench needs.
>The Commissar orders us to get into a parade formation, to which we do so, albeit it's begrudgingly done by some who are bitter about losing one third of us.
>The Commissar orders us to stand to attention as he begins to dictate to us what the next objective is
>We are holding this trench line whilst the 34th artillery company moves up, once they move up they'll take control of the trench and then we'll be moving up to clear out the rest of the Orks
>We then see the chimeras pull up with new shipments of flamers, the Commissar then tells us our next objective for now is to burn the Orks' corpses and dispose of their spores properly.
>Just to make sure they are fully cleansed we have skitarii and other Admech forces watching over us with scanners giving them full details on if the spores are dealt with
>Oh joy can't wait to be berated by the cogs
>Hope one of these days me and that tank commander can have a chat. Even though it's hopeless, I'll probably never see her again after this campaign or if I get executed one of these days.
>The Arsonists in our ranks are having an absolute field day, according to one of them, it has been about three years and seven months since he last got to use a flamer at all.
>The burning is coming along nicely, the Admech seem relatively pleased with how progress is going though some have reprimanded the arsonists for going overboard and torching things that aren't the piles of Orks.
>I see Twat Face busy and grumbling to himself, really wish the fucker died in the melee but oh well.
>As I work I see the Cadian Tank Commander and her crew, most of them seem to be veterans by a significant margin, we've got next to no veterans left in our unit.
>Really want to talk to her but hold myself back knowing it'll never pan out. I mean maybe if she was alone I could have a chat with her but as it stands, I already burned any bridges when I got sent to the 221st
>Once the flamer's empty I go to get refueled, whilst waiting the Commissar steps towards me.
>Commissar begins to talk to me
>"Have you seen any sort of treasonous of mutinous behaviour amongst your colleagues?" He asks his eyes staring into my very soul itself
>I silently panic before speaking up to him, "No sir, not from what I've seen"
>My answer registers with him for a bit before he leans in closer face almost pressing against mine
>Terror seeps into my body as he asks me one last question
>"How willing are you to die for the Emperor even if it meant seeing the very worst aspects of the galaxy?"
>I pause for a moment to reflect on my answer, I didn't want to sound as fanatical as old Zealot and I sure as hell didn't want to be moping as much as Twat Face
>"I am willing to give my very life up to the Emperor even if it means I see things that'll break any man. A zealot once said that we are condemned by our Holy Emperor and we are nothing more than gutter scum. But I know I can find redemption through serving until the last drop of my blood leaves my broken mangled body"
>The Commissar leans back after my answer and hands me my refueled flamer tank, seemingly pleased with my answer. I think I can't tell his expression is still grim like usual.
>I watch him walk over to the Tank Commander who I didn't even realize was there the entire time.
>I wonder, did the Commissar have a suspicion that I wanted to talk to her and he was showing her how dutiful I was to the Emperor even though I am condemned?
>Sweating slightly I watch the two of them walk off before heading back to work.

>Six hours later and the work is done, now we just hold the line whilst the armoured battalion help the artillery company move up
>This is the most boring part ever, it's just constant vigilance with no action
>The Orks haven't even showed up since yesterday, well not in large numbers anyway.
>All that comes to attack is the smaller Gretchen and the occasional boy but even then they are too lightly armed and armoured to the point where it's got me concerned.
>It's even got the Commissar on edge so he's looking for some volunteers to send out and investigate
>Well when I say volunteer I actually meant gather up a group at random to send out as scouting party.
>The rest were chosen at random I opted to volunteer hoping that the Commissar would further put a good word about me to the Tank Commander.
>Out of the nine thousand and one of us the scouting party consists of
>Me, Marco Scumbag, convicted for underhive scum activities
>Chris Twat Face, convicted for the murder and rape of several women and teenage girls. Not sure how he didn't get turned into a servitor and I fucking hate him
>Simon Greenie, convicted for taking part in riots on the moon of Ulysses
>Adrian, convicted for dissertation during a hectic battle on Karados, he's also a former Kanak Skulltaker
>Pete "cheater" Royce, convicted for scamming a planetary governor and other members of the nobility
>And finally Solomon Rakghral, convicted for stealing supplies from the munitorim
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>Now that we are assigned to the role of scouts, the Commissar gives us fully charged lasguns and combat knives before ordering us to head out and scout the Orks out.
>One of the people on watch wishes us good luck as we leave
>The entire time we are running as if we were double timing during a regiment exercise routine, it sort of helps thinking of ourselves as being akin to a full blown regiment. Allows us to hold back any thoughts of treason or violence against each other.
>We advance for around about 1200 metres we are way out of visible reach of our trench line when we see a weird purple and pink glow
>Adrian tells us to slow down slightly and to take very very light steps and to follow his lead.
>As we do we get closer and closer to the light coming upon an elevated position which might have once been a snipers nest of kind. Even though Ork Snipers aren't a thing.
>Solomon begins to climb up the elevated position before stopping midway to check for binoculars
>Thankfully he has some so he continues to climb, once he's at the top he looks through to have a look
>Good news for us, the Orks have been dealt with and their encampment is torn to hell and back
>The bad news, there's a weird glowing gate with some tall figures around it seemingly doing some sort of weird magic to the gate. He's not quite sure what they are doing so I ask to take a look.
>After swapping places I look through to see the weird glowing gate and a force of Eldar in white and green using Psyker powers on the gate.
>I bring this up to my team and I see Twat Face getting visibly excited, he knows that Eldar have female fighters and he is looking blood thirsty, it takes both Adrian and Simon to stop him from running up and exposing our position to the Eldar
>We are well beyond our lines and we have a murderous psycho in our group.
>Throne help me this is going to be a painful trip back
>We have a vox caster but because we are penal scum the range isn't long enough to call for help
>I grit my teeth together, we sure as fuck ain't taking out an Eldar strike force when there's just five of us.
>I say five because one of us is going to have to run back to get to a point where there is sufficient enough range to deliver information to the trench line.
>Plus Twat Face is too eager to kill any kind of woman that he's a massive liability meaning there's technically only four of us if one of us runs off to deliver news.
>Pete suggests he tried to jury rig a way to get our vox caster to make requests from our current range.
>He just needs us to keep a constant vigilance on the Eldar and for one of us to go in and get some tools from the Ork encampment as he reasons that the Orks had to have had some tools for them to make their town and vehicles even if said stuff looks like it was just crammed together with glue.
>I volunteer to go in whilst Solomon keeps watch, Simon and Adrian will keep Twat Face pinned so he doesn't do anything stupid.
>With the plan all agreed I opt to leave everything that isn't my lasgun and knife with them seeing as that might create too much noise and Eldar have very keen senses out of every xenos we've faced.
>I head out to go get Pete some tools all the while trying to keep myself out of the light and keep my sounds low to prevent getting spotted by the Eldar
>Never in my life have I been more alive than I feel right now
>From times cleaning up after Orks I've come to expect where I can find their Mek workshops, so I creep over keeping low and quiet as I can hear the Eldar talking in their language, I don't understand any of it whatsoever apart from the word Mon'Keigh
>I only know that word because an Eldar called me that as I killed one on Solthum.
>I resist the urge to kill one quietly for the insult but I have to remember.
>I am not Twat Face, I don't have a psychopathic need to kill
>Emperor's teeth this has been one stressful few days and I've barely had sleep for most of them
Keep going, this is being read.
Gonna be real gonna space myself out a bit. Plus I'm writing most of this on a phone because my x key on my laptop is broke so I gotta make sure my phone is sufficiently charged.

Also would love to hear some criticism, see if anything needs a touch up or improvement
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>Eventually I arrive at the workshop and slip inside, there's dead worker Grots all over the place and I see the Mek rammed against his work bench with several blade wounds stabbed into him over and over again.
>I carefully walk over to the bench and move the corpse aside trying my hardest to carefully set it down as to not alert the entire camp to my very location.
>Thankfully the tools are all on the bench, there's even a box for me to carry them all in. How generous of the Orks I think to myself
>I carefully begin to load up the tools into the box, setting them down in each rack before tightly securing it.
>I quickly turn my back to see if anyone is behind me and with a exhale of relief, I take the tool box and begin to leave
>I hurry slightly as to not let off too much noise as I know damn well sneaking with the box itself is down right impossible to do.
>I feel the hairs on my neck rise up slightly as I think I've been spotted so I continue my pace praying to the Emperor I wasn't spotted
>Upon arrival I hand the tool box over to Pete and immediately he gets to work on the caster, he explains that part of his scams involved redirecting and reconfiguring vox casters to play and deliver messages he wanted to send directly to the people he was scamming
>As he works Solomon gets my attention, something's going down at the gate he informs me
>I go up and take a look and that's when we notice it
>The gates starting to glow brighter as is the sky, I can hear the Eldar from here shouting at each other, something along the lines of prepare as bolts of lighting fire out from their witch leaders at the gate
>The ground begins to shake as the gate reaches a climax and shatters open pouring out a horde of pink abominations that are an insult to the eyes
>Some have crab claws, all of them have exposed genitals in places, some of them are fully nude whilst some are skimpily dressed however there is a murderous atmosphere in the air as all hell breaks loose.
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>I immediately scream at Pete to get that fraggin Vox Caster working as more and more of them are spilling out from the gate, the forces of the Eldar engaging in combat against the vile creatures.
>They dance with skill and grace as they fight, the Eldar's blades and shots finding their targets with great skill.
>Of particular note are fifteen Eldar with long plumed red hair that move quicker than I can keep up with their blades slash through the abominations as howling screams out across the battle
>They are backed up by the standard foot soldiers that fire out disks of light into the targets all the while dodging back from every slash and swipe of the crab claws
>Not all are lucky however and some do get pinned by the sheer weight of numbers the abominations have on their side
>Finally, Pete screams that he's fixed up the vox and is beginning to signal to the trench of the situation
>Twat Face is shaking harder in the grasp of Adrian and Simon as he's getting extremely desperate. Finally he snaps out of the lock and begins to run out to the battle taking place firing his lasgun at the Eldar
>"FRAG FRAG FRAG" I shout out to him as Twat Face continues to run into the Eldar and Abominations firing shot after shot at anything vaguely feminine
>Finally we've got a signal with our trench and immediately Pete passes me the vox to speak through
>It's the Commissar asking for an exact report on why the hell the sky went pink and why they heard the ground trembling
>The Commissar tells me to quiet down and that he'll get artillery to start raining down fire early and he'll get our forces organised
>Pray to the Emperor that they get here in time. For now I don't know what I should be shooting at or if we should give away out position.

>Be me, Chris Galesbi
>Convicted murderer of over one thousand women on the Agri world of Gellion's Rest
>I am finally having fun, I have been couped up not being allowed to kill any woman I see. That Commissar and Scumbag watch me like fucking hawks
>Well no more, now I am liberated, I feel the rush of my lasgun hitting the Eldar and the feminine looking abominations
>Weirdly the abominations seem to moan when I shoot them
>Get an idea
>Smack the butt of my rifle against one of the abominations running right at me, I then impale her in the stomach with my bayonet. All the while she moans with each hit
>I then fire a few rounds into her each producing a moan
>Fuck I'm turned on by this
>Some of the other abominations look at me treating their fellow abomination like that
>Some begin to swarm on me whispering things in my ear and telling me to go further
>Fuck yes I'm enjoying this even more now and I listen to what they tell me to do
>One of them orders me to strip, so I do so and I continue to explore everything whilst the other abominations fight the Eldar

>Be me Marco Scumbag
>Current hurling up after seeing Twat Face and the abominations doing all sorts of things I'll need a mind wipe for
>Still don't know what I should be aiming at but seeing as Twat Face is currently in the midst of the abominations and isn't killing them, I begin to open fire upon the abominations joined alongside by the four others with me.
>Our lasgun fire doesn't do much but hey anything to help out the Eldar in dealing with these abominations
>As we keep firing we hear the sky raining shells down upon the camp and the vox cast begins to speak up
>It's the Commissar, he wants us to fall back to the camp and that only artillery support could be provided to cover our escape
>I try to argue but the Commissar repeats his order. Not wanting to press further we grab all our stuff and begin double timing it back to the trench, leaving Twat Face to wrath of the artillery shells.

>Be me Farseer Aurias
>Have been alive for centuries
>Sealing the gate failed and the spawn of she who thirsts are spilling out and we can't close it due to them interrupting our attempts
>A Mon'Keigh has rushed in to help the daemonettes
>I've seen this man in my visions for a while, he's destined to slay our Autarch
>He's running up to her now like a man possessed lasgun raised and firing rapidly at her
>I proceed to fire out bursts of lightning readying my witch blade to intercept
>He smacks his lasgun against me thankfully his attention is on me now, I readjust myself and slash at him with my blade cutting into his arm with my blade.
>He fights back with his bayonet but isn't able to land an attack meanwhile I slash him again opening his chest as the Autarch fires her reaper launcher at him taking him down.
>Now to turn my attention back to she who thirsts minions

>Be me Chris
>I'm cut and shot up
>It would hurt but it feels exquisite I can't help but let our grunts of pleasure every time I got slashed or shot
>As I lie down practically dead I hear the whispers of the Prince to keep going I have yet to fulfil everything I want. I want to experience more
>I feel a surge of energy course through me and I jolt back up
>I see the Eldar Autarch continuing to fight as I slowly sneak up behind her and with wicked glee I stab the bayonet right in her neck piercing through the neck piece.
>She exhales as a result as I drive it in deeper and deeper enjoying it as the Farseer sees me standing behind his Autarch and grinning
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>The Farseer rushes towards me but it is too late as one of the Daemonettes jumps onto him and starts to rip him apart joined in by her fellow sluts as I enjoy the ecstasy of watching the Autarch die
>She tries to fight back but I kick her hands forcing her to throw her weapons as I apply more and more pressure gradually breaking through the other side of her neck and I twist her head.
>I pull my bayonet out and lick the blade tasting the sweet blood as some daemonette babes begin to swarm around me again cooing and moaning softly as artillery begins to rain down
>Seems my fellow colleagues have left
>No matter I shall spread the pleasures of the Prince to them. Not for Scumbag though, he's dying horribly and I'll enjoy every last second of it
>The daemons seem to agree with me and we begin to move even as we deal with the retreating Eldar forces and enjoy the sweet pain caused by the artillery shells.

>Be me Marco, still retreating from the enemy forces the moans were dying down but now they are coming back up again as artillery continues to fire
>We are barreling closer and closer towards the base all the while we notice the sky turning more and more pink as warp storms begin to grow overhead I also see a massive as hell ship in the very distance I think it might be the Eldar craftworld.
>We eventually arrive back to the trench and the Commissar immediately gives us a dressing down asking how many of us saw the Abominations.
>We all respond saying we saw them and the Commissar begins gritting his teeth in response to our answers.
>He orders all units into a parade formation including the newly arrived 34th Artillery company
>Standing before us is the Commissar and all other commanding officers
>He glares down at us before speaking up
>OP dies
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"Soldiers of the God Emperor's Imperial Guard, today vile scum seeks to trespass into the very holy forges that produce the sacred hardware blessed by the Emperor and the Machine God. I ask you now to stand before the horde as a complete unit. Forget your pasts, it doesn't matter if you are gutter scum or the very best the Guard has to offer. You are all Guardsmen now and you will all face down that horde, anyone caught running will be shot. Now tell me who are we?!"
>There's a thunderous shout coming from us the 221st with some shouts coming from the 108th we are screaming "WE ARE THE GUARD SIR"
>Finally the rest of the 108th and the 34th shout with us
>I see the Commissar smile for the first time, it's more unnerving than any other facial expression he's ever made as he begins to speak again
>With a reinvigorated sense of purpose we hurry back to our stations, artillery begin to send out server skull scouts to bomb the incoming enemy, the armoured battalion ready the rites needed to awaken the Leman Russes and we the 221st ready for certain death that will come for us
>But we all made an oath to the Emperor upon are forced conscription and we will serve until death takes us.
>Here I stand, on a world far from home amongst the greatest scum in the Imperium and some of the finest it has to offer
>I don't feel fear, I feel as if I am one complete unit. Perhaps Zealot the crotchety old bastard is smiling down on us as we prepare for hell to follow.
>Hopefully this means that if I survive, the Cadian Tank Commander will spare some time before we are shipped off world to talk to me or well hear me out.
>But this ain't over, Twat Face still needs to die
With the change in format I thought someone hijacked the thread.
>I hear the rumbling drawing closer, I am then tapped on the shoulder
>It's the Tank Commander
>She broke from formation to talk to me
>She leads me away to talk more privately, even the Commissar seems to turn a blind eye just for this
>Her voice is rough like mine as to be expected from a Cadian woman who shouts orders from the top of her lungs to tank crews
>"Your Commissar is a very perceptive man convict, he sees you as on par with that old convict that he flogged. Devoted to the Emperor even though you betrayed him with your crimes and yet you stand here and still shoot me some glances when you thought me or the Commissar didn't see you"
>She knew the whole time that I looked at her when I thought she wasn't looking, it honestly made me gulp a bit as a nervous hand rose up to scratch the back of my head.
>She laughed as she lightly punched my shoulder
>"Don't get nervous now, we got a horde to push down. Plus if you make it out of this, I'll make sure the Commissar is busy dealing with a scheduling error so we can talk some more. Ok?"
>I wasn't expecting this as her response. Here I was worried she'd simply shoot me down or have no time for scum like me.
>I nod in agreement and she gives me a small kiss on the cheek before heading back to her formation. I smile to myself slightly as I rub my cheek before heading back to the line.
>I arrived in time as the Artillery commander orders his men to start raining hell down upon the earth, both us and the tanks hold fast as we start to see figures in the distance. Our lasguns won't deal alot of damage to things in that range but numbers works overall so we are ordered to let them rip.
>Lasgun, Autocannon and Lascannon fire roars out like the screeching war hawk of the Imperium into the figures that are in the distance that slowly begin to charge. Each shot from the various guns deafens us as we continuously fire, our shots seemingly don't slow them down but our hope and faith orders to keep firing.
>Even then the horde continues its charge their moans of ecstasy only bolster my disgust for these freaks as I see the Commissar scrunching his face in disgust, seems like we share the same thought for once
>It's the first time any of my fellow convicts have ever really seen these abominations before and like the rest of us they are absolutely horrified at the sight as some of the smaller creatures ride on bizarre horse things with weird tongues coming out their mouths. One guy named Intestines seemingly has a PTSD attack at the sight of one of the horses which just leads to him pulling the trigger of his lasgun harder and him screaming "FOR THE EMPEROR" at the top of his lungs
>In the distance I see him, Twat Face
>He's more twisted and hideous looking than before, with his chest exposed and wearing an extremely distasteful parody of our uniform but his head is the most sickening, he wears a crooked smile stretched to inhuman proportions as two small horns seem to burst from his forehead.
>I am going to beat him to fucking death if it's the last thing I do
>Then we see it a gigantic fuck off beast
>It's extremely androgenous with four arms carrying two weapons and a shield whilst the last is a claw and it's strutting towards us as if it's hooves were high heels.
>The Commissar orders all Lascannons and Autocannons onto it whilst our lasguns deal with the Infantry.
>The tank commander orders half of her six hundred tanks to open fire on the creature whilst the rest support us
>The Artillery commander orders his teams to swap their rounds to make it hit just a little bit harder than normal.
>I can see concern in the Commissar's face as if he is wondering when he should order us to charge and attempt a melee to lock them up as the horde is growing closer and not slowing even with our combined efforts.
>They don't trip over and falter when you kill one and taking out more than fifty is difficult with their speed.
>My teeth grind together as I can hear whispers in the wind, they tell us to run away or turn out backs to our brothers.
>When I look around I can see the same thing happening, my fellow comrades all trying not to let the whispers hold any meaning over them.
>If all nine thousand of us run or turn traitor this world is doomed
>If six thousand run or turn traitor this world is doomed
>I look over to our Commissar who is firing upon the abominations and looking back to us when possible. When his gaze meets mine I nod as does he.
>The Commissar's words grasp ahold of those who are struggling with the whispers and bolster their nerves as soon three thousand of us stop firing to attach bayonets, once attached shooting resumes as the next three thousand repeats the previous actions as does the last three thousand of us.
>In unison we get right up close to the trench wall and prepare for the bolt round to sound us off, sponson weapons of the 108th come to a halt to allow us to escape the trench without getting shot.
>The Commissar locks eyes with one of the foot soldiers on the horse and fires his bolt pistol and now we charge.
>We clammer over the top
>But keep firing
>We stand up ready to run
>But keep firing
>We begin to charge
>But we keep firing
>We are charging
>But we keep firing
>We are 221st opening fire and charging is what we do best
>"FOR THE EMPEROR" rings out from us all as he keep advancing and shooting no respite or mercy shall be given upon this very day.
>And I wouldn't have it any other way
>As we charge we can hear the whispers growing louder and even see the abominations trying to tempt us
>But not today freaks
>We may be scum but we aren't abominable and loathsome freaks like you
>Our fire at a closing the gap range is more accurate as there's less places for the foe to dodge to and we begin to take them down, their calvary begins to charge but soon we are joined by the 108th as the Tank Commander orders her tanks to preform a grinding assault against the foes to further assist and cover us as we approach an inevitable melee
>In the back of my head I swore I saw her blow a kiss my way when I briefly turned my head to see her and the tanks
>With further vigor I keep firing sending freak after cross dressing freak screaming back to wherever the hell it came from
>But now it's time for the melee as we've finally arrived to where most of us will more than likely die.
>We've marched into our very graves but as a Penal Legionnaire everywhere is a grave for you, from the shittiest death world to a random minefield in butt fuck nowhere.
>We crash against the horde who weren't expecting us and begin the melee stabbing and slashing with bayonet and whatever other melee weapon we have to hand
>Nine thousand men against a horde that never seems to end or ever tire
>I grit my teeth and swallow my fear as I see men get shredded by claw and nail, but even in death they still stab and shoot the fuckers to either take them down with them or soften them up for the rest of us.
>As I repeatedly stab one my eye is looking for Twat Face so that I can permeantly deal with him before he gets the satisfaction of killing me or any more of my comrades
>I eventually find him riding atop a steed whose tongue pierces into a Legionnaire and proceeds to drain him dry all the whilst Twat Face giggles in glee firing randomly all over the place not even bothered when he hits his own allies
>Unfortunately I'm bogged down by these chaff units that make it hard to get to him
>Right now I'm praying to the Emperor to give me the strength I need to get through this horde and kill Twat Face.
>I pray even as I slash and shoot, I may be praying but I wasn't ordered to stop attacking
>Soon others join me in this very same practice of slashing and shooting what's infront of us
>As I pray I hear myself out loud my prayers screaming out into the warzone
>Soon enough I am hearing my words echo across others, others amongst me who seek to rise above what we are now and it is working
>The Freaks attempt to drown our preaching out with blood curdling screams and moans of pleasure
>But those will not stop our glorious sound nor will it stop our righteous wrath as soon I am almost at Twat Face
>Slaying three more freaks I begin to open fire on Twat Face's steed sending him flying off of it, he lands with unnatural grace and begins to charge at me his tongue long and licking the very air.
>He gets the first strike knocking me in the jaw and killing my momentum as our fight begins my men rushing past me and him so that our scuffle may happen uninterrupted.
He grabs me by the neck and jumps on top of me and attempts to strangle me
>But he won't get that satisfaction of my gasping voice as he forgot to pin my arms so I use this time to punch him in the jaw which throws him off of me and allows me to get up.
>He follows suit and grabs a knife from his uniform whilst I break off the bayonet from my rifle
>A classic stand off for the entirety of two seconds before we rush each other blades drawn
>He attempts to slash me first but his swings are wild and inaccurate as to be expected of someone who murdered people who couldn't fight back
>Although even then it's preventing me from going in there and slashing open his neck without risking myself getting shredded up by his knife which seems to be emitting a weird pulse to it.
>I shake off the feeling and focus enough to see him fuck up
>As he slashed he left his left arm completely exposed and with no way of getting his knife down quick enough from an accurate attack from me
>I acted accordingly and slashed at his left arms exposed veins causing a good deal of blood to come out and throwing him off allowing me to throw in two quick stabs to his chest before pulling back knife pulled out along with me to prevent him from slashing and stabbing me in the back or my left arm although he does make a nick against my left hand as I pull out thankfully it wasn't a deep wound but it still stings either way
>I spit at him as he tackles me stabbing into my left side causing me to lose the wind in my lungs
>As he keeps tackles and stab me I start stabbing him in the back
>It fucking hurts like hell getting stabbed close to my left kidney and stabbing him in the back isn't doing much to him
>Thinking quickly I kick him in stomach lifting him off of me but causing him to move his knife further up and out of my left side but I respond with a thrust to his neck right in his jugular
>He spits out slightly as my knife is stuck in his throat
>With my left hand side needing to be covered up by my arm to stop the bleeding I punch him in the face breaking his nose and hurting my hand in the process but before he can grab it. I grasp the knife and pull it out of his throat
>He stands there blood spitting out and gushing from his wounds and he is in a mixture of both pissed and ecstatic
>"I've always fucking hated you Scumbag, you think that your better than me ha. We are both scum just like me"
thanks for the story writefag
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>"I'm scum, I know that but I sure as hell ain't as dirty as you. You fucking smell of defilement, what you can't fight against something that isn't stronger than you is that why you murdered that many women and teenage girls. You really know how to make me hate you even more Twat Face"
>I spit on the ground as does he as he charge once again
>He goes high but I go low, I slide down scrapping my already giant and exposed would in my left hand side against the ground causing me to yell out as I use my bayonet to slash his left leg which causes him to yell out as well before finally planting the bayonet into the back of his leg where his knee would be and bring him down to a crouch
>"Fucking more hurt me more you scum fuck whilst I bleed you for the Prince" he shouts at me turning his head around to face me
>I begin to move myself over to the lasgun whilst he attempts to pull the bayonet from behind his knee.
>It's a race against time as he finally pulls it out letting out a scream of pleasure just as I grab the gun putting my finger on the trigger
>I quickly turn around and get the bayonet throw at my stomach causing my finger to press the trigger however my aim was also off so I ended up only hitting his shoulder which blew it apart thanks to him not wearing any armour there.
>His pained scream and sudden shock that his arm is hanging by a few threads lets me line up a shot to his chest and I take it blowing a hole that permeantly shuts him up
>He flops to the ground and I fire at his head just incase and it leaves a nice hole in there that exposed part of his burnt brain
>I'm breathing heavy as I'm stuck on my back staring up into the sky
>I finally got him
>I won't ever have to hear him ever again
>I begin to laugh heartily as I grab the bayonet and pull it out of my stomach which stops me from laughing and causes me to scream out once again as it really fucking hurts.
>I haven't had to pull a knife out of my stomach since my time in the underhive
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>My mind goes back to Sevastopol, back to when I was free and lying in a pool of my own blood
>In that moment I wondered if I'd ever see the sky. All I ever saw looking up was condensed fog and the industrial tunnels that made up the underhive.
>During my months in the 221st I never took the time to look at the sky properly beyond just watching out for air raids
>Now on Koronus I'm staring up at the warp storm covered skies, whilst in a pool of my own blood, wounds covering my body and my ears full of the sounds of my fellow guardsmen cheering in celebration
>That's when my eyes start to notice the sky clearing up letting the natural sky of Koronus seep in for what feels like ages since I saw it.
>Last time it was normal was before the gate opened
>It's nice to just look up and stare but soon my mind turns to her
>The Cadian 108th's Tank Commander, whose name I never got
>It's funny, I never even knew the name of the woman I was attracted to and yet I still feel happy knowing that she thought my faith and loyalty to the Emperor even as the lowest possible scum made me seem redeemable
>Well what was there now to say, we've seemingly won against the invaders
>The Orks spores were sorted
>The Eldar retreated
>The Abominations purged
>And the Forgeworld secured
>My eyes begin to close as I think about them all
>My men
>The Commissar and his unfaltering gaze
>And her, the woman who I'd never get to talk to again
>Perhaps it's what scum like me deserve and perhaps this is my grave after putting Twat Face in his
>With that my eyes go dark as the ringing in my ears stops left in total darkness with the last few images being of all of them
>A few days later I suddenly jolt to life, I'm stuck in some sort of medicae centre with other wounded 221st men and women
>My eyes take a while to adjust to the light but eventually they focus on two individuals at the end of my bed
>It's the Commissar and the Tank Commander
>They seem to be talking but I can't make out the details, the ringing in my ears started up again as I look at them
>The Commissar then leaves probably to go sign off on some paper work and register a successful campaign
>When he's gone, she makes her way towards my left smiling gently the whole time and my ears are starting to clear up
>I can finally get a good look at her, she's in her officers attire not wearing any protective flak armour she normally wears when riding with her crew. Her brown hair is tied in a braided bun, her eyes are a glimmering purple and her face shows experience just like my very own face
>Her voice is still rough obviously she has probably been barking orders to pack up the Tanks for the next battlefield she's going to
>"Well, seems we finally get to have that conversation you've probably been looking forward to" she says her smile still gentle
>I grunt in agreement not really able to move myself around much, only just my fingers, toes and anything above my neck and my neck itself
>"Sorry for not telling you this earlier but my name's Amelia, Amelia Pelius. Don't worry about telling me yours, your Commissar told me. I'm sorry about your last name"
>We both laugh, I admit my last name is stupid as hell
>"Yeah Scumbag being a last name was given to me by my gang back on Sevastopol, never really had a last name"
>She tilts her head slightly as she rubs her hand against my shaved head
>"This will probably be the last time we ever see each other again Marco, you know this right"
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>My heart sinks
>I already knew it would never work, she's a decorated Tank Commander from Cadia and I'm just a Penal Legionnaire whose debt hasn't been cleared by the Emperor
>"Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe I could find someone in the galaxy rather than spend it being being completely miserable you know"
>I stare into her eyes as her other hand rubs my left hand, the whole time she's still gently smiling at me.
>"I have to leave soon, your Commissar is keeping you lot stationed her for some time to act as a PDF force whilst everything is fully cleared for you lot to head to your next engagement. But I do want to give you this"
>She leans in and gives me a kiss on the lips, they are soft compared to mine, I can tell she takes her water rations sensibly. She breaks the kiss first leaving me slightly wanting
>"I'll keep hope that you'll eventually earn his forgiveness, I'll even inscribe your name on my tank. Just your first name though"
>She gives me another kiss, this time on the head before standing back up
>"This is goodbye Marco. I'll always remember you"
>And with that she was gone leaving me on that medicae bed and with a sunken heart
>Even then at least I loved and instead of being like Chris and having never found any kind of love. Even if it ended bittersweetly.
>A month later I am lined up and ready to be transported back up to the prison ship, along with four thousand nine hundred and ninety nine other men and women of the 221st.
>The Mechanicus also seems to have given us defective and half charged lasguns, flimsy flak armour and one hundred helmets to take along to our next engagement.
>As we are loaded up we begin to chant our Legion's chant
>"For we are the 221st, duty doesn't end until we are dead and none shall find us wanting"
incredible anon
Bumping cause it caught my interest and I can't read it all right now.
Oh, it's already done. Let's take a read.

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