Post by Soap on Feb 26, 2013 18:10:28 GMT -5
Edit: New and hopefully improved. C&C please (not fishing for praise btw).
Sector 12.5
Blood trickled from his nose. His left eye was swollen and blood shot. Cuts and bruises marked his face, arms, legs and body. Part of his right ear was also missing. Bit unlike the rest, he still stood. He had won. His voice was proud at his victory as shouted loud so all could hear, "I winz! I winz! I iz da bestest!".
A thunderous clap echoed around the small arena. To the side, a dozen other body's had viewed the event. Rhythmic like an artillery bombardment, his slow and purposeful clapping brought silence from the spectators, as well as the last standing Grot.
War Boss Badkeg Gutstab was a giant compared to the others in the small enclosure. His massive armour would be a struggle for any of the boys to lift, but for Gutstab, he sometimes forgot he was wearing any armour at all. He approached the champion, who looked up in shock at the size of the War Boss.
"You did gud Stitch. You did reel gud!".
Gutstab hunched over onto his massive fists - each one the size of Stitch, putting his weight on his arms. The giant sprayed saliva over Stitch with each word.
"Now Stitch, sort out dem lot. You ladz got gud job for me. You iz der boss now".
Sector 11.4
The night had drawn in fast, and the cold weather soon followed. The 903 Mechanised Assault Troop had stopped for the night. The sixteen Chimeras and five Leman Russ had been positioned around the make shift camp in a defensive formation. Each had a camouflage net over, but it wasn't needed. A freezing fog was setting over the area, and snow had fell the whole time the camp was being set up. The armour was half buried, and so where the half dozen winter tents that had been erected. A small fire had been permitted to be lit to cook food. Sergeant Hirvi welcomed the change from cold food. He felt cold to the bone, and looked forward to the warmth of sleep.
He ate the ration meal as fast as he could, without chewing. The warmth hit him straight away, and so did the 'taste'. Seven hours rest, then the 903 would resume their long range combat patrol. He counted his blessings for not being drawn from the sergeants lot for sentry duty tonight. The temperature was dropping fast. So with that thought, he entered the tent and found his bed space which, unfortunately was by the door.
"Going to feel every draft tonight". He mumbled to himself.
Sector 11.4 - four hours later
The band of grots had been walking for hours. The cold bit at their exposed skin, but it didn't bother them. They just kept moving forward in single file. Stitch lead the group. He was still happy at his show in front of the boss. Everything the boss wanted, he had done. He was the fastest, most cunning, and strongest grot. He knew it was true, after all his boss had said so. And now he must prove himself again.
The group of nine grots marched on, following Stitch through the deep snow and freezing wind. The only sound to be heard was the shuffling of boots over the snow. They didn't talk, moan, or complain. One Grot did complain some time ago, but Stitch made an example of him, which is why the group was now numbering nine. So now, they where silent, and followed Stitch on through the snow.
The snow was getting worse, and a they where walking into a freezing fog. Still, nearly a three days of walking, they found it. Stitch had saw something in the corner of his eye, a turret on a Chimera. It moved.
"Dats it!" He whispered in a hushed voice, and pointed in the direction of the Chimera. He huddled them all in, whispered a few words, and they broke, scuttling towards the Imperial transport.
Stitch laid on his belly and crawled passed the perimeter of the Imperial camp. The snow hid him well. He saw tents illuminated by a small fire that had almost burnt out. He moved forward and three other grots followed. He made it to the tent door and opened it slowly and silently. He was shocked at how many humies he could see. He could kill them all, but that was not what the boss wanted? He produced a syringe that the boss had give him and crept into the tent with the other three watching. With a swift movement, the needle was in the closest humie, and the liquid pushed into his targets body. The humie began to move with the shock of the needle, but Stitch was quick, he jumped on top and a swift kick to the humies head, he stopped and rested back into sleep. The other three grots grabbed the humie and carefully pulled him out of the tent. Slowly, they followed the path that they entered the camp on. Past the tanks, and out into the cold darkness of night.
Sector 11.5 Outpost Velkken
Klump woke up to the bright light of the dawn. He was startled to see Sergeant Zimmer stood over him, and instantly thought he had done something wrong. The unrelenting disapproving face of the sergeant made Klump dread every encounter with him. The sour faced sergeant finally let Klump know he wasn't in trouble as he spoke with hardly moving his lips.
"Right you orrible beast, time to earn your right to live".
Klump was a good size, even to Ogryn standards, and he struggled to get through the door into the open yard of Velkken. The outpost was a massive complex. A tower faced to the west and another to the east. Both towers where connect by a landing pad to each flank. Velkken took supplies for every unit operating in sectors 9 through to 14. It's location made it the furthest west to other outposts, making it the closest to hostile forces.
Klump wasn't the smartest, but he saw something was going on. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleep away. Guardsmen where rushing around, moving supplies around the yard, checking weapons, and clearing snow. Others where on parade with the outposts commander, Captain Lepol, shouting something that Klump couldn't understand.
"Oi! Beast! To your post". Zimmer pushed the Ogryn, enough to let Klump know the sergeant was there, and Zimmer tried to make it look like he didn't use most of his weight and strength to get the Ogryns reaction.
Each gate to the west and east was manned by one of the four Ogryns who where permanently attached to the outpost. The fact was that they didn't play nice with others, so had been sent here. Given the menial task of gate guard, that hopefully would keep them all out of trouble. They slept, ate, guarded the gates, and once in a while they where allowed off the base to burn off their frustration, Klump always looked forward to this.
Sergeant Zimmer was in charge of the Ogryns, along with the guardsmen that defended the outpost. He reported to nobody other than Captain Lepol, and was exempt from parades and other duties. He disliked this role, he hated Ogryns, and he missed the front line.
Sector 11.5 / 12.5
The body was light under the eight pairs of hands holding it up. Naturally, as a leader, Stitch didn't carry that stinking humie. He lead the way back to the boss.
"We iz nearly der boys!" He chattered, grinning at his success.
The rest of the group where more lively now. Laughing, and messing about knowing they where safe. Then the rumble of an engine could be heard. They all instinctively dropped down, hoping the snow would offer a little cover. Then Stitch stood up and began waving franticly. Two Ork boys where driving a small truck around. The truck had seen better days. Each part held together by rust and ice, the patch worked truck stopped. Scrambling with there loot, the Grots heaved the body onto the flat bed of the truck. Stitch and a couple of other managed to get on before the truck pulled away. But five of them where left with a long walk back.
Sector 11.5 Outpost Velkken
Zimmers frustration was broken by Captain Lepol calling him over. Swift strides and a sharp salute was quickly waved away with an invite to walk. Lepol often spoke freely with his a select few of his sergeants to get a feeling from the man on the ground so to speak. But Zimmer felt that Lepol wanted to hear his words more than the others. Zimmer wasn't so much a yes man, and give his opinion when asked, unlike the others NCOs who would say what they thought the Captain wanted to hear.
"They took one sergeant. One of our men, dead of night from a patrol who had set camp for the night. I am are guessing its that bloody mob from sector twelve that's been causing us some problems. But it's not the first time they have taken men".
Zimmer kept up with the Captains long strides with ease, processing the information that normally wouldn't filter down below the rank of lieutenant.
"Then he's dead sir". Zimmer didn't show any emotion as he spoke. Death was common place in the guard, and this ice rock was no exception.
"Yes, yes, very true sergeant. But why take one man? They could have killed them all while they slept".
Zimmer didn't say anything. Truth be told, he didn't know the answer.
"Well Sergeant Zimmer, thank you for your time, you may go back to your duties".
Sector 12.5
Hirvi opened his eyes. His blurred vision made no sense, nor did his pounding head ache. He could see the white snow floor, and what looked to be piles of scrap metal. After a couple of seconds of consciousness, he realised something was deeply wrong. He couldn't move, and the cold started to nip his exposed face. He couldn't feel his fingers. His head slumped forward, and then he realised he stood up and tied to a pole.
Movement caught his attention. A wide eyed Grot, with the tip of its ear missing grinned at him showing his black and yellow, razor sharp teeth. It leaped with joy and ran off to a ramshackle hut. Hirvi's vision started to get back to normal. With his head slumped forward, he saw a lot of blood staining the snow beneath him. He quickly returned, jumping for joy, and an Ork bigger than the Ogryn monsters back at the outpost followed. Fear was etched over Hirvi's face as the Ork stopped in front of him, lowered its head and made eye contact with him. Slowly the monster spoke.
"You - tell - me - or - you - hurt - lots". As if to emphasise this point, the happy Grot ran from the side and jumped up, scratching his claws across Hirvi's face.
"Now tell me! Where are da rest ov you!?"
Sector 12.5
Blood trickled from his nose. His left eye was swollen and blood shot. Cuts and bruises marked his face, arms, legs and body. Part of his right ear was also missing. Bit unlike the rest, he still stood. He had won. His voice was proud at his victory as shouted loud so all could hear, "I winz! I winz! I iz da bestest!".
A thunderous clap echoed around the small arena. To the side, a dozen other body's had viewed the event. Rhythmic like an artillery bombardment, his slow and purposeful clapping brought silence from the spectators, as well as the last standing Grot.
War Boss Badkeg Gutstab was a giant compared to the others in the small enclosure. His massive armour would be a struggle for any of the boys to lift, but for Gutstab, he sometimes forgot he was wearing any armour at all. He approached the champion, who looked up in shock at the size of the War Boss.
"You did gud Stitch. You did reel gud!".
Gutstab hunched over onto his massive fists - each one the size of Stitch, putting his weight on his arms. The giant sprayed saliva over Stitch with each word.
"Now Stitch, sort out dem lot. You ladz got gud job for me. You iz der boss now".
Sector 11.4
The night had drawn in fast, and the cold weather soon followed. The 903 Mechanised Assault Troop had stopped for the night. The sixteen Chimeras and five Leman Russ had been positioned around the make shift camp in a defensive formation. Each had a camouflage net over, but it wasn't needed. A freezing fog was setting over the area, and snow had fell the whole time the camp was being set up. The armour was half buried, and so where the half dozen winter tents that had been erected. A small fire had been permitted to be lit to cook food. Sergeant Hirvi welcomed the change from cold food. He felt cold to the bone, and looked forward to the warmth of sleep.
He ate the ration meal as fast as he could, without chewing. The warmth hit him straight away, and so did the 'taste'. Seven hours rest, then the 903 would resume their long range combat patrol. He counted his blessings for not being drawn from the sergeants lot for sentry duty tonight. The temperature was dropping fast. So with that thought, he entered the tent and found his bed space which, unfortunately was by the door.
"Going to feel every draft tonight". He mumbled to himself.
Sector 11.4 - four hours later
The band of grots had been walking for hours. The cold bit at their exposed skin, but it didn't bother them. They just kept moving forward in single file. Stitch lead the group. He was still happy at his show in front of the boss. Everything the boss wanted, he had done. He was the fastest, most cunning, and strongest grot. He knew it was true, after all his boss had said so. And now he must prove himself again.
The group of nine grots marched on, following Stitch through the deep snow and freezing wind. The only sound to be heard was the shuffling of boots over the snow. They didn't talk, moan, or complain. One Grot did complain some time ago, but Stitch made an example of him, which is why the group was now numbering nine. So now, they where silent, and followed Stitch on through the snow.
The snow was getting worse, and a they where walking into a freezing fog. Still, nearly a three days of walking, they found it. Stitch had saw something in the corner of his eye, a turret on a Chimera. It moved.
"Dats it!" He whispered in a hushed voice, and pointed in the direction of the Chimera. He huddled them all in, whispered a few words, and they broke, scuttling towards the Imperial transport.
Stitch laid on his belly and crawled passed the perimeter of the Imperial camp. The snow hid him well. He saw tents illuminated by a small fire that had almost burnt out. He moved forward and three other grots followed. He made it to the tent door and opened it slowly and silently. He was shocked at how many humies he could see. He could kill them all, but that was not what the boss wanted? He produced a syringe that the boss had give him and crept into the tent with the other three watching. With a swift movement, the needle was in the closest humie, and the liquid pushed into his targets body. The humie began to move with the shock of the needle, but Stitch was quick, he jumped on top and a swift kick to the humies head, he stopped and rested back into sleep. The other three grots grabbed the humie and carefully pulled him out of the tent. Slowly, they followed the path that they entered the camp on. Past the tanks, and out into the cold darkness of night.
Sector 11.5 Outpost Velkken
Klump woke up to the bright light of the dawn. He was startled to see Sergeant Zimmer stood over him, and instantly thought he had done something wrong. The unrelenting disapproving face of the sergeant made Klump dread every encounter with him. The sour faced sergeant finally let Klump know he wasn't in trouble as he spoke with hardly moving his lips.
"Right you orrible beast, time to earn your right to live".
Klump was a good size, even to Ogryn standards, and he struggled to get through the door into the open yard of Velkken. The outpost was a massive complex. A tower faced to the west and another to the east. Both towers where connect by a landing pad to each flank. Velkken took supplies for every unit operating in sectors 9 through to 14. It's location made it the furthest west to other outposts, making it the closest to hostile forces.
Klump wasn't the smartest, but he saw something was going on. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleep away. Guardsmen where rushing around, moving supplies around the yard, checking weapons, and clearing snow. Others where on parade with the outposts commander, Captain Lepol, shouting something that Klump couldn't understand.
"Oi! Beast! To your post". Zimmer pushed the Ogryn, enough to let Klump know the sergeant was there, and Zimmer tried to make it look like he didn't use most of his weight and strength to get the Ogryns reaction.
Each gate to the west and east was manned by one of the four Ogryns who where permanently attached to the outpost. The fact was that they didn't play nice with others, so had been sent here. Given the menial task of gate guard, that hopefully would keep them all out of trouble. They slept, ate, guarded the gates, and once in a while they where allowed off the base to burn off their frustration, Klump always looked forward to this.
Sergeant Zimmer was in charge of the Ogryns, along with the guardsmen that defended the outpost. He reported to nobody other than Captain Lepol, and was exempt from parades and other duties. He disliked this role, he hated Ogryns, and he missed the front line.
Sector 11.5 / 12.5
The body was light under the eight pairs of hands holding it up. Naturally, as a leader, Stitch didn't carry that stinking humie. He lead the way back to the boss.
"We iz nearly der boys!" He chattered, grinning at his success.
The rest of the group where more lively now. Laughing, and messing about knowing they where safe. Then the rumble of an engine could be heard. They all instinctively dropped down, hoping the snow would offer a little cover. Then Stitch stood up and began waving franticly. Two Ork boys where driving a small truck around. The truck had seen better days. Each part held together by rust and ice, the patch worked truck stopped. Scrambling with there loot, the Grots heaved the body onto the flat bed of the truck. Stitch and a couple of other managed to get on before the truck pulled away. But five of them where left with a long walk back.
Sector 11.5 Outpost Velkken
Zimmers frustration was broken by Captain Lepol calling him over. Swift strides and a sharp salute was quickly waved away with an invite to walk. Lepol often spoke freely with his a select few of his sergeants to get a feeling from the man on the ground so to speak. But Zimmer felt that Lepol wanted to hear his words more than the others. Zimmer wasn't so much a yes man, and give his opinion when asked, unlike the others NCOs who would say what they thought the Captain wanted to hear.
"They took one sergeant. One of our men, dead of night from a patrol who had set camp for the night. I am are guessing its that bloody mob from sector twelve that's been causing us some problems. But it's not the first time they have taken men".
Zimmer kept up with the Captains long strides with ease, processing the information that normally wouldn't filter down below the rank of lieutenant.
"Then he's dead sir". Zimmer didn't show any emotion as he spoke. Death was common place in the guard, and this ice rock was no exception.
"Yes, yes, very true sergeant. But why take one man? They could have killed them all while they slept".
Zimmer didn't say anything. Truth be told, he didn't know the answer.
"Well Sergeant Zimmer, thank you for your time, you may go back to your duties".
Sector 12.5
Hirvi opened his eyes. His blurred vision made no sense, nor did his pounding head ache. He could see the white snow floor, and what looked to be piles of scrap metal. After a couple of seconds of consciousness, he realised something was deeply wrong. He couldn't move, and the cold started to nip his exposed face. He couldn't feel his fingers. His head slumped forward, and then he realised he stood up and tied to a pole.
Movement caught his attention. A wide eyed Grot, with the tip of its ear missing grinned at him showing his black and yellow, razor sharp teeth. It leaped with joy and ran off to a ramshackle hut. Hirvi's vision started to get back to normal. With his head slumped forward, he saw a lot of blood staining the snow beneath him. He quickly returned, jumping for joy, and an Ork bigger than the Ogryn monsters back at the outpost followed. Fear was etched over Hirvi's face as the Ork stopped in front of him, lowered its head and made eye contact with him. Slowly the monster spoke.
"You - tell - me - or - you - hurt - lots". As if to emphasise this point, the happy Grot ran from the side and jumped up, scratching his claws across Hirvi's face.
"Now tell me! Where are da rest ov you!?"
