Oh man, I saw that Rhino when DoW 2 came out... TOO EPIC FOR WORDS. And yet I typed some anyway, for how else am I to express myself in this linguistic battlefield that we call Dakka?
Shelegelah wrote:Oh man, I saw that Rhino when DoW 2 came out... TOO EPIC FOR WORDS. And yet I typed some anyway, for how else am I to express myself in this linguistic battlefield that we call Dakka?
expressing yourself in art is so much more enjoyable in a 40k discussion.
Ummm...its Random... 40K Humor. And you are probably going to get the thread locked by posting non-wargaming related pics to the Dakka Server...Just saying it happened before.
OI YE GIT! I'm da hand of Gork and Mork, dey sent me to rouse up da boyz to crush and kill ‘cos da boyz forgot what dere ‘ere for. I woz one of da boyz till da godz smashed me in da ‘ead an’ I ‘membered dat Orks is meant to conquer and make slaves of everyfing they don’t kill.
I’m da profit of da Waaagh an’ whole worlds burn in my boot prints. On Armour-Geddem, I led da boyz through da fire deserts and smashed da humies’ metal cities to scrap. I fought Yarik, old one-eye at Tarturus, an’ he fought good but we smashed iz city too.
I’m death to anyfing dat walks or crawls, where I go nothin’ stands in my way. We crushed da stunties on Golgotha, an’ we caught old one-eye when da speed freeks blew da humies’ big tanks ta bits. I let ‘im go ‘cause good enemies iz ‘ard to find, an Orks need enemies ta fight like they need meat ta eat an’ grog ta drink.
I iz more cunnin’ than a grot an’ more killy than a dread, da boyz dat follow me can’t be beat. On Pissenah we jumped da marine-boyz an’ our bosspoles was covered in da helmets we took from da dead ‘uns. We burned dere port an’ killed dere bosses an’ left nothin’ but ruins behind. I’m Warlord Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka an’ I speak wiv da word of da gods. We iz gonna stomp da ‘ooniverse flat an’ kill anyfing that fights back. We iz gonna do this coz’ we’re Orks an’ we was made ta fight an’ win!!!
The first one is people posting up Ancient "New" Dark Eldar Pictures, people going YAY then going FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!
2nd one is about Commissars
3rd one is about how Abbadon fails.
i had a freind come round a few weeks ago to have a 40kapocalpocalpse game i was guards men he was space maines. my first turn was 4 bonbaonbardlements... jacobs turn to he didnt have one i phased out.
The things in bold might once have been words. I also enjoyed the part where the guardsmen phased out.
Automatically Appended Next Post: Damn, cheese beat me to it.
There is actually a Necron Tactica in there...seriously, the guy must be the John Madden of 40K..."See what we got here is Necron shooting and the point of necron shooting is to shoot your opponent's guys before they shoot you... because if they shoot you your necrons will probably die, unless they don't die, in which case you need to shoot some more...BAM!"
love the necron tactica, tactic... I am going to start an army and run away... and shoot... and run away... and shoot... and take down a titan, with 30 of them. And I wont get them into close combat, because they never die and that is boring.
Grey Knight Luke wrote:love the necron tactica, tactic... I am going to start an army and run away... and shoot... and run away... and shoot... and take down a titan, with 30 of them. And I wont get them into close combat, because they never die and that is boring.
In Maddenese:
"See what you got here is some common sense tactics. See the grey team is moving down field so as to evade the pursueing blue team...which are chasing them. Now here they stop and shoot...which brings us to assaults. If the grey team gets assaulted right here at this yellow circle, then they probably get locked up in close combat for a very long time...which is why you need wortex grenades!"
Cheese Elemental isn't necessarily evil... He's just not "good" (by any stretch of the imagination). But nevertheless, he's a vital part of Dakka. Just don't click on any of his links. Any of them.
Shelegelah wrote:Cheese Elemental isn't necessarily evil... He's just not "good" (by any stretch of the imagination). But nevertheless, he's a vital part of Dakka. Just don't click on any of his links. Any of them.
I learnt the hard way....
This is the best thread on Dakka by a country mile!
Cheese the Betrayer. One of the Warlords in 4Chan's Black Crusade against the Internet. If you ever see "4Chan" in any of his URLs, or ever see words like "PROMOTIONS", "/b/", or anything else, do -not- click the link. We will not show you sympathy if you do
Grey Knight Luke wrote:love the necron tactica, tactic... I am going to start an army and run away... and shoot... and run away... and shoot... and take down a titan, with 30 of them. And I wont get them into close combat, because they never die and that is boring.
In Maddenese:
"See what you got here is some common sense tactics. See the grey team is moving down field so as to evade the pursueing blue team...which are chasing them. Now here they stop and shoot...which brings us to assaults. If the grey team gets assaulted right here at this yellow circle, then they probably get locked up in close combat for a very long time...which is why you need wortex grenades!"
Top 10 comment! I want that guy to make more battle reports
For the hidden set up I placed a large piece of styrofoam to block our view from each other so that we didn’t have to write everything down.
The army list...
Genius Tactic! This guy MUST make more battlereports. HIL-FRIGGIN-LARIOUS!
@ Metallifan: That comment made me remember the good ole Troll Saga. I checked the thread and discovered that it drowned in a torrent of uselessness. Damn.
For the hidden set up I placed a large piece of styrofoam to block our view from each other so that we didn’t have to write everything down.
The army list...
Genius Tactic! This guy MUST make more battlereports. HIL-FRIGGIN-LARIOUS!
No, this man is!!
"Before the Golden Throne finally breaks down, the God Emperor commands
Creed to begin plans for transporting the Earth into the Eye of Terror to do battle with the Ruinous Powers."
Reposting the comments from the bonbaonbrdlement batrep:
Comments
bonbaonbardlements
Thu, 27 Aug 2009 16:59:37
cool story, bro.
good god
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 07:44:32
good god
bonbaonbardlements2
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 14:47:13
You suck at 40K. He killed 4 squads with one Raider in one turn? Im-f***ing-possible. Then your Guardsmen "phased out".
You are an embarrassment to the hobby. Go copy/paste articles off GW all you want, but don't try to pass it off as yours. I hope that when you are making love to your favorite barnyard animal and you set the scene with candles and lighting and the mood is perfect then the candle falls over and sets the barn on fire and you're genitals are horribly burned and fused to whatever beast you decide to copulate with and you have to live with the dead burned corpse of your farmyard lover attached to your pelvis as the doctors are unable to remove it then after years of staring in the cold dead lifeless eyes of said animal you decide to end your life by throwing yourself off a bridge but the dead body of your lover catches on a overhanging rafter leaving you stranded hanging by your groin stuck to the dead body of your lover then carrier pidgeons peck out your eyes and eat your tongue and you stay there for days hanging from underneath the bridge until you die of starvation, blind and unable to cry for help hanging from underneath a bridge with your dead lover's corpse fused to your genitals.
Keep Us Posted, Please!
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 15:10:49
Nevermind bonbaonbardlements2 reply, he's a hater.
Keep posting more battle reports with comments. I totally get this site. Funny as heck!
Tyler
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 15:14:07
It's okay Bonbaonbardlements2... I notified him of his suck and fail already. I guess a reminder doesn't hurt though.
"Lord Commander! Sir!"
"What is it Adept?"
"Sir! It seems that Admiral Candyland is preparing to bombard the planet's surface on Inquisitor Hershey's order! Should I notify emergency crews to enact standard sheltering procedures?"
"That's no typical bombardment Adept. That's a Bonbaonbardlement. There is no escape. There is no hope. The Candy will destroy us all..."
Seriously. Learn to spell.
Tyler
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 15:24:35
Also... I hope you realize that everything you've written on this website has pretty much been meme'ed (Aka taken and used for joke material). Especially Bonbaonbardlements. But don't let that discourage you.
We need your failure, for it makes the internet laugh!
A normal person
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 16:10:17
My mind feels a great pain!
bonbaonbardlemens2
Fri, 28 Aug 2009 22:00:01
"Assalt on my floor"
You know you can go to jail for that, right? Especially if your "friend" is a minor. And the evidence is, well, "on your floor".
Iron_chaos_Brute wrote: bonbaonbardlements2 Fri, 28 Aug 2009 14:47:13 You suck at 40K. He killed 4 squads with one Raider in one turn? Im-f***ing-possible. Then your Guardsmen "phased out".
You are an embarrassment to the hobby. Go copy/paste articles off GW all you want, but don't try to pass it off as yours. I hope that when you are making love to your favorite barnyard animal and you set the scene with candles and lighting and the mood is perfect then the candle falls over and sets the barn on fire and you're genitals are horribly burned and fused to whatever beast you decide to copulate with and you have to live with the dead burned corpse of your farmyard lover attached to your pelvis as the doctors are unable to remove it then after years of staring in the cold dead lifeless eyes of said animal you decide to end your life by throwing yourself off a bridge but the dead body of your lover catches on a overhanging rafter leaving you stranded hanging by your groin stuck to the dead body of your lover then carrier pidgeons peck out your eyes and eat your tongue and you stay there for days hanging from underneath the bridge until you die of starvation, blind and unable to cry for help hanging from underneath a bridge with your dead lover's corpse fused to your genitals.
and
Iron_Chaos_Brute wrote: bonbaonbardlemens2 Fri, 28 Aug 2009 22:00:01 "Assalt on my floor" You know you can go to jail for that, right? Especially if your "friend" is a minor. And the evidence is, well, "on your floor".
were what I wrote. The barnyard animal thing is a quote from here by hollismason. All props, it's the funniest thing I've ever read. I just thought it needed a bigger and more deserving audience.
Some say he's a kind of tactical genius and that can tie his boot laces with his testicles... all we know is... He's called CRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!
Some say to him everything is Just as Planned and that he was the 44th President of the United States... all we know is he's called the Lord of Change.
Iron_Chaos_Brute wrote:I hope that when you are making love to your favorite barnyard animal and you set the scene with candles and lighting and the mood is perfect then the candle falls over and sets the barn on fire and you're genitals are horribly burned and fused to whatever beast you decide to copulate with and you have to live with the dead burned corpse of your farmyard lover attached to your pelvis as the doctors are unable to remove it then after years of staring in the cold dead lifeless eyes of said animal you decide to end your life by throwing yourself off a bridge but the dead body of your lover catches on a overhanging rafter leaving you stranded hanging by your groin stuck to the dead body of your lover then carrier pidgeons peck out your eyes and eat your tongue and you stay there for days hanging from underneath the bridge until you die of starvation, blind and unable to cry for help hanging from underneath a bridge with your dead lover's corpse fused to your genitals.
"Author
i am known as bigbadom at dakkadakka.com minichanebanger on th 360,dumdum on miniwargaming if you like 40k this is the place to be i colect the following space orks,chaos space marines,choas demons,space marines,imperial guard,tryanids,necrons."
saw this on the bonbaonbardlement battle report, he walks amongst us!
More quotations from our delightful master of fail (Somebody should rip off Master of Puppets with that):
space maines
"Run! It's the Emperor's mighty fishermen!"
my 26 slugger boyz opened fire on his preditor only 5 penatrating hits :( all it did was shake the crew and destory its twinlinked laser cannon and the storm bolter so now it's a razorback.
... ... ... ... ...Die. Please.
wills turn he didnt move he was in range his flamer opend fire on the boyz but barbiqued his own men!
Words cannot express the lols I had over their combined stupidity.
Wills Chaos Plague Space Marines
22 Plague Marines (some with some extra weapons like plasma guns and power fists)
1 Chaos Lord (I think that’s what it was)
5 Chaos Terminators (with Nurgle icon)
1 Rhino
1 Predator
12 stupid crazy over-powerful hellbound Plaguebearers (can you tell who did most of the damage?)
MY Tyranids
1 Hive Tyrant
1 Broodlord
2 Carnifex
9 Warriors (one with Barbed Strangler, the rest with Deathspitters)
38 Termagaunts with Fleshborers
8 Termagaunts with Devourers
28 Genestealers
Normally a solid army, but wait until you see what happened in the second turn.
The last sentance indicates you failed. Miserably. How can you -possibly- lose with that amount of hurt and still have the intelligence required to use a keyboard!?
person person wrote:The very name sends anger and shivers down the oppositions spine...
Automatically Appended Next Post: He also beat Tzeentch at chess.
Tzeentch: Hmm... great, my elaborate tactics and thinking 973535279373254 moves ahead prooved quite useful. Only two turns left to my overwhelming vict- wait, wha- WHAT IS THAT QUEEN DOING HERE!
Creed's Tactical Genius needs to allow him to generate some new pictures. I think we've posted everything that the internet has to offer on the subject of CREEEEEED!
Just noticed this today while walking around warhammer world, concerning Gav Thorpe coming in to sign novels-"Gav Thorpe has been running rampage over the worlds of warhammer and warhammer 40000 for five years now".
Obsidian wrote:Here's another Motivational I've knocked together.
I'm not sure how many people out side the UK will get the reference though.
Some say that he's the only un-neutered marine and that he arm wrestled Gork and Mork and won. All we know is he's called the Stig Marine.
And here is this.
That is so good . I dip my hat to you Sir.
goffnob deffsmakka wrote:Tonight on top gubbinz:
Ghazkull trakka tests da reazonably prized trukk:
And Da Squig destroys the new battlewagon:
Top gubbins ROFL All you need now is a Top Gubbinz challange race to get to Armageddon in an Evil Sunz Trukk, a Looted Blood Axe tank and a Bugatti Veyron!
Automatically Appended Next Post: Oh yes, and I've been awawy for a while. Pardon my language, but WHERE THE FLIPPIN' BRFGHVSDUIHSFDJGVKUYGQUHGXJHZVHZXGFCYT DID ALL THIS BONBAONBARDLEMENT JUNK COME FROM?
The Necrons have a great deal of choice when it comes to selecting their forces. From small scuttling Scarabs and Necron warriors to the ponderous might of the Monolith, they can employ some of the most fearsome weaponry in the Warhammer 40,000 universe.
4chan a.k.a the Eye of Furry. Its where everyone and their grandmother go to think that they are different and special by looking at odd and obscene things. It luls you into a false sense of security before smacking you in the balls and telling everyone to laugh at it, most of the time the people are laughing at something they found off of 4chan but decided to post it there anyways. Its the black hole of the internet and its only use is to determine who in the world is pedophile, a furry, or a pedophile who is also a furry. Its the whole concept of the internet shrouded behind the mask of indecency at the sake of getting some "lulz" it is a boring place and again doesn't even have a purpose as there are probably other websites out there that are better to use when determining whether someone is a furry, a pedophile, or a combination of the two(mutation combining a pedophile and a furry into one conglomerate also count).
If you want art there is deviant art, if you want japanese anime there's japanese anime.com, if you want furry porn there's furryporn.com/urgay.
The inquisition demands the termination of 4chan for its furries and waste of resources.
It has been suspected that /tg/ (the 40k/d&d part of 4chan) actually stands for Tactical Genius, and not traditional games, as previously thought. How the hell he managed to sneak it in about 5 yoars in advance noone knows, but it must have taken prodgius amounts of tactical genius.
The small woman glanced down at her clipboard, then looked back up at the hulking figure that had finally finished adjusting itself on her poor couch. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind her glasses, and sighed inwardly. Being the best counsellor in the galaxy had its drawbacks sometimes. Still, the pay was good. Tapping her pen on the clipboard, she began.
“So tell me, Mr… uhm… Despoiler; where do you think your stress comes from?”
Abbadon shifted on her couch again, his terminator-armoured bulk threatening to flatten the valiant furniture. “Where doesn’t it come from,” he sighed, his voice surprisingly soft for the most feared champion of the dark gods. “I mean, there’s the gods themselves at the top of the pile: Khorne’s always teasing me that Kharn’s got more kills than I have – up-close-and-personal ones, mind, Khorne doesn’t like all this newfangled stuff like the Planet Killer – and Tzeentch never shuts up about me being so predictable. And then there’s Nurgle. Warp dammit that guy could give a daemonette weight issues. Doom this and despair that and decay the other.”
The counsellor nodded understandingly. “I can sympathyse with that,” she said. She could – her ex had gotten involved with Nurgle back in the 960’s. He had said it helped him deal with his depression, but she hadn’t believed him. Proving him wrong was one of the reasons she had taken up psychotherapy. “Is there anything… closer to home… than that, though?”
He hummed a bit. “Like the other champions?”
“If you like,” she said patiently. The trouble with megalomaniacs was that they could never really accept that someone else knew more than them. They had to be led along oh-so-carefully. Especially Tzeentchian ones – her hardest client yet had been one of Ahriman’s Cabal claiming to be bipolar (it turned out he was just suffering a mild bout of warp-induced madness and paranoia, but the sorceror would have none of it).
“Well, Ahriman’s always been a bit of a pretentious git.” (speak of the devil, thought the counsellor) Abbadon flexed the Talon of Horus, and she winced imperceptibly as it took another inch of cushioning off the arm of her couch. “He never knows when to shut up, that one doesn’t. Even Magnus doesn’t want to talk to him when he’s around, and that old cyclops could talk the pustules off Nurgle.”
“Is there anything in particular that Mr Ahriman says that has a major effect on you?” she asked, marking ‘JEALOUSY - FEELS INADEQUATE?’ on her clipboard.
Abbadon frowned. “Not really, I suppose. He’s always going on about how he would have done the Black Crusades so much better than I did, but then everyone does that there days – not that I see any of them stepping up for a go.”
“And any of the other champions of Chaos?”
“Not really. Typhus is usually off doing his own thing with the Terminus Est, which is a relief really, the guy stinks worse than Mortarion these days. Lucius is busy doing whatever it is that Lucius does down on some daemon world or another – sure, the guy heads out for a quick raid every now and then, but it’s pretty easy to distract him, all things considered.”
She nodded. “And Kharn?”
“Kharn? Kharn’s actually a pretty cool guy, once you get to know him. Gets a bit carried away every now and then, but its all part of his charm. It’s not like he doesn’t give people ample warning – he is called the betrayer, after all. No, Kharn’s never bothered me much. He comes along on most of my Crusades, and we usually end up having a good laugh.”
He leaned back. “Reminds me of this one time we were assaulting Cadia – I think it was back in M34, actually – and it ended up with just the two of us and some traitor company, the Red Rivers, I think they called them. Something to do with a river of blood or something like that, but Kharn had taken quite a shine to them. Anyway, we were stuck outside on of the Kasrs, and Kharn gets the brilliant idea to take one of the Rivers’ landers and do some aerial reconnaissance. So up we go, along with a few dozen of the Rivers to pilot the damned thing, and we see the Kasrkin all there in the main square doing some parade or other.”
Abbadon grinned. “Out of nowhere, Kharn grabs up one of the Rivers and just throws him right out of the hatch! He fell so fast he nearly exploded when he hit the ground! Turns out he hit one of the Kasrkin right on the head, got blood everywhere, and the guy’s powerpack detonates! Before I could even congratulate him or tell him we’ve got a heavy bolter strapped to the wing, Kharn’s throwing more traitors down at record speed. The Kasrkin are all scattering, and Kharn keeps hitting them.”
He chuckled. “Of course, he had to stop eventually. There was only one of the Rivers left, and we needed him to fly us back to camp, but before we turned back around, Kharn grabs my arm and tells me to look down at the Kasr. Lo and behold, all the Kasrkin Kharn had hit had left big blood and scorch marks on the ground, and he’d managed to spell out a message! Want to know what it was?”
She nodded.
“It was a haiku:
Inside your Kasr
Is where we’ll be tomorrow
So clean up would you?
“Let me tell you,” Abbadon said, “I about laughed my topknot off. When I managed to turn around, I saw Kharn high-fiving the pilot – afterwards I found out it put the guy in traction for two solid weeks – but when he turns to me he whispers:
“I was trying to draw a boat.”
Abbadon chuckled. “Kharn’s one swell guy. Always sees the best in things.”
The counsellor was, for the first time in her life, speechless. She just didn’t know what to say to that tale. She leaned forwards, adjusting her glasses.
“So yeah,” said Abbadon, “the stress. What was it you were asking me about ag..ain…” he trailed off as he noticed a glint in her eyes. Abruptly, he realised – the belching smoke, the grimy tracks, the slowly rotating turret-
His psychotherapist was a Leman Russ Demolisher.
Roaring, he leapt off the couch as a flurry of heavy bolter rounds tore it to shreds. Lightning wreathed the Talon of Horus, and he dropped into a crouch, cursing himself for not realising it sooner. He dodged to the side as the turret fired, sending a demolisher shell straight through the window of the office.
Abbadon lashed out with Drach’nyen. The daemonsword tore a burning gash out of the side of the tank, but it gunned its engine and accelerated away through the wall, trying to get enough range to use its weapons against him.
To replace his counsellor with a Leman Russ without him knowing could only have been pulled off by some kind of tactical genius-
“CREEEEEEED!” bellowed Abbadon as he charged after the tank. “I’ll have your head spitted on my talon! I’ll hang your guts from my armour’s spikes! I’ll-” He was cut short as a lascannon beam forced him to lurch awkwardly sideways.
“I’ll rip out your toenails and use them to eat your eyes!” he shouted, finding his rhythm again. “I’ll tear you out of your metal box and feed you to the thousand terrors of the warp! I’ll… do very nasty things to your mother!”
At this, the tank rumbled forwards, its sponsons roaring to life. Bolts thundered out at Abbadon, most going wide, but many still hammered into his armour. He forced his way through the storm and met the oncoming tank head-on, ramming Drach’nyen through the driver’s slit and feeling it bite deep into something behind it. Even as the tank’s dozer blade smashed into his shins he shouted in triumph and ripped the daemonsword upwards.
With the power of the gods of Chaos coursing through him, the tank came up with the sword, rising in an immense arc until it tore free of the blade and went crashing over his head and through three walls.
Startled heads peeked around the edges of the newly opened hole as Abbadon stalked towards the smoking remains of the tank. It had landed upside down, and had crumpled under its own weight. No man could have survived it, but Abbadon wanted to make sure.
Using the Talon as a shovel, he dug his way through the tank until he came to the crew compartment. Instead of finding the smashed and ruined body of his nemesis though… there was a note. Frowning, he picked it up.
Dear Abbadon the Despoiler,
If you thought this was good, wait until you see what I did to your flagship.
I'm beginning to wonder, what would happen if Creed and Boss Snikroot (and possibly Mabro) met....it would take something awesome to organize such a meeting, maybe a tactical genius could~
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*gack*
Obituary wrote:Starbomber109, will be remembered for his rambling posts...maybe. He was sumarily executed by an ork nob named Snikroot for screaming too loud about an internet meme.
Obsidian wrote:Here's another Motivational I've knocked together.
I'm not sure how many people out side the UK will get the reference though.
SIG FOR THE WIN! I watch TOP GEAR EVERY WEEK!
and I'm in the U.S.
(some say that when he was young, he got the top possible score on every racing arcade game.)
Who wants to come sit around the camp fire and sing as we congratulate GW on not letting the new IG codex sit with innumerable rules problems while their big tourneys went on...
Now, I think some of the Eldrad stories were posted earlier, but that was a long time ago, and two were left out, besides.
So, Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. It seems shocking to hear and I know he is the guiding light of our people, but in all honesty, he's a total dick.
I know this because I served with him. You see, I am a Warlock. You can imagine my excitement when I was first assigned to his retinue. I took no heed to the fact his last set of Warlocks supposedly died in "a most ironic manner". I was young back then, only 19 000, and naive.
As soon as I met Eldrad in person he gave me my first order: "find a howling banshee exarch, and a witch blade for yourself, we are going to Setrus Prime (as the mon-keigh called it)." He actually said the parentheses by leaning forward and placing a hand beside his mouth to direct his voice to me alone. He is kind of a douche that way, we were in the room alone.
Anyway, Eldrad, the banshee exarch and I sortie to the planet's surface. I project some illusory cover to shield our hiding spot and the exarch and I await more orders. Before us a great battle is being waged between a force of the mon-keigh Space Marines and our fallen brethren, the Dark Eldar. About 20 minutes into the battle Eldrad points to a pebble by his foot and says "Move this small stone to where I am pointing now." He points to an innocuous patch of ground. Dumbfounded but trusting, I do as he says. No sooner had I reached cover did a Space Marine bike roar past me, straight over the pebble. The mighty treads of the bike's wheels fling the pebble up into an empty stretch of air. It hangs there for a moment, then a Dark Eldar reaver rushes into it, the pebble sucked into its jet intake. The reaver sputters then bursts into flames, accelerating rapidly, right into a Talos. The Talos was not of regular design, not that any ever are. This one was a mass of spinning blades with a screaming humanoid in its center, the body of which was too mutilated to even identify its race.
I might mention at this point that Eldrad has not turned to look at the ensuing chaos, instead he is staring in the direction of myself and our howling banshee companion.
When the reaver hit the talos, all hell broke loose as the twirling saws of the unsavory machine broke free like angry daemons being exorcised. I saw one blade, bouncing and racing directly towards us at ludicrous speeds. And I am an Eldar, I know speed. I brace my witch blade for the impact readying myself to take the blow, to save the farseer in my protection. The blades hit and both the saw and the witch blade veer off directly towards the banshee exarch. Both blades merely graze her, just deep enough to cut the restraints that hold her costume on. As her armour falls away exposing her breasts, I realize why Eldrad was staring at her. He giggles, then orders a full retreat.
What a dick.
So Eldrad is a huge dick, but I think I have proven that by now. What I haven't told you is that he is, without a doubt, the greatest psyker in the universe.
I never saw this more exemplified than when we went to deal with a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Leviathan. The first thing Eldrad did was use his massive reservoir of power to redirect the entire hive fleet 0.3 degrees off course. At first we had no idea why, but he assured us there was a reason. 134 years later we encountered the swarm again, and now we saw his plan, the fleet was heading straight into a desolate backwater planet. Using yet more of his might, Eldrad hid the entire planet from the fleet's sight. This caused the entire hive fleet to crash square into the planet's surface. He then called for me and the rest of his retinue to sortie down to the planet, we had a mission.
Once on the surface the bleeding husks of charred hive ships loomed over us like cold organic volcanoes. And then in a clearing, we found our quarry, a mighty hive tyrant, its psychic eminence clouding my own mind like a thick whispering fog. Eldrad was not taken aback in the slightest, he stepped forward, unarmed, right into the clutches of the hive tyrant. He then began to emulate the hive tyrant's psychic powers, only at a much higher magnitude. He had made himself into a synapse creature of immense power. So much so he brow beat the mighty tyranid into submission. He then turned to us, tyranid leader in tow, and said, we are returning, we have what we came for.
Although impressed by Eldrad's mastery of the mind, we all could not stop pondering his master plan. Why would he need such a mighty beast? It was not till the next morning that I knew. Pasted throughout the ENTIRE CRAFTWORLD were pictures of the titanic monstrosity and its ..... titanic monstrosity resting on my face as I slept. I never even knew tyranids had genitalia.
What a dick.
You know, Eldrad Ulthran really is a dick. I've said it before, and I have absolutely no doubt that I will say it again. He has skill and power of heights that are only reachable, even for most Eldar, in their dreams, and how does he use them? He uses them like this:
Years ago, a minor Ork Waaagh sprung up and launched itself against the Mon Keigh world they call Lentak II. It's an insigificant planet by any definition except, apparently, Eldrad's. He summoned me and told me we were going to Lentak, and that it was of the utmost importance to see that a certain battle took a particular course. He also told me to bring along the best sniper I could find, adding that "He might come in handy," with a wink like he was passing on some kind of secret message. Typical Eldrad behavior, that.
So, we get down to the surface of Lentak and locate the "important" battle, in a rocky pass high up in a mountain range. Eldrad isn't wearing his helmet, the better to display the horribly annoying half-smile that's on his face the whole time, the one he puts on when he knows something you don't and is about to use that information. I'm busy projecting an illusion to keep Mon Keigh and the Orks from noticing us, Eldrad and the sniper are just watching the battle from the rock outcrop where we're standing. Finally, Eldrad points at a particular Ork nob riding in the back of one of their wartrukks.
"That one. Take off his ear. His *left* ear. Right...now."
The sniper fires, cleanly severing the Ork's ear. The thing roars like the beast it is, looks around, and smacks the Ork beside it right off the back of the bouncing vehicle. The fallen Ork doesn't even have time to stop rolling before it gets run over by another Ork on a warbike; the bike nearly crashes, and one of the bombs sitting in a rack near the back bounces loose and falls to the ground. Eldrad looks at it, nods in satisfaction, and motions for us to leave.
Five of the Mon Keigh years pass. Five blessed, beloved years, in which I do not hear nor see Eldrad a single time. I don't know where he was, or what he does when he's not busy being a dick; probably off seducing Tau or members of whatever other young race has caught his fancy recently. Anyway, those five years pass all too quickly, and then Eldrad comes back, contacts me, and tells me we're going back to Lentak II, just the two of us. This, of course, sets my teeth on edge, because I know he's going to do something unbearably dickish, but I can't exactly refuse the most important Farseer of my Craftworld.
Sure enough, we wind up back in that same mountain pass, watching a column of Imperial Guard troops march past. This time, we're down at roughly the same level as the guardsmen, but since there are only two of us, it's easy for me to project sufficient camouflage. Good thing, because Eldrad sure wasn't helping. I notice that the wreckage from the battle years ago hasn't been completely cleaned; some has been pushed up against the walls of the pass, some hasn't.
I belatedly remember the fallen bomb and start to look for it, but before I can spot it, a Chimera with a commissar riding in its open hatch finds it on its own. The explosion bounces the vehicle into the air, and the unsecured commissar goes flying. Shrapnel flies towards us and I dodge, rolling across the ground to avoid the splintered metal.
When I look up, I see Eldrad, standing with the sunrise behind him, posed like a statue with his head high and his fists on his hips. An instant later, the commissar's hat lands right on his head. And Eldrad, the dick, holds the pose and smirks at me. I almost dropped the illusion and let the Mon Keigh kill us both, but then I realized Eldrad would probably have some way of escaping even that.
Never in my nearly twenty thousand years of life have I met a bigger dick than Eldrad Ulthran.
So, I've already told you about how Eldrad Ulthran is a dick. You've heard it all, all the sad stories...except, of course, you haven't, because Eldrad constantly generates more indignities to pile upon me. I thought he'd give me a break after the incident Tissalk Secunda; he really went too far on that one, and after they finally stopped laughing, the rest of the expeditionary force were giving him some funny looks. I thought he wouldn't anything else so soon. I was wrong.
With the Grey Ones rising again to wage war against all life, many of our priorities have been shifted to meet this resurgent threat. Thus, when Eldrad said he was working on a project and needed the body of a Necron warrior, everyone assumed he meant it was for research into some kind of weapon to use against them. Under any other circumstances, getting the order from Eldrad to gather a raiding group together would have filled me with fear that I was going to be the butt of another joke, but even Eldrad has to be serious where the ancient enemy is concerned...right?
Besides, to be honest, I was too busy being afraid of the Grey Ones to worry about whatever dickish maneuver Eldrad must be planning. I've faced the Mon Keigh, the Orks, our fallen brethren, and the horrors of the Warp, and such foes do not frighten me, but the soulless enemy does. They're so...cold. Nevertheless, let it not be said that I did not do my duty when called upon.
We flew almost to the edge of the galaxy; myself, my handpicked force, and Eldrad, who actually acted professionally during the long transit. I kept glancing over my shoulder, literally and metaphorically, expecting his true nature to assert itself, but we reached the tomb world without incident. We landed on that ancient soil, and all my senses were screaming at me to get back in the ship and get away, back to Ulthwe and (relative) safety. But we went further. We went down into a tomb, Eldrad opening the way for us.
Down in that darkness, I was more scared than I ever had been in my whole life, all 19,872 years of it; this was one of the most nerve-wracking (if not THE most nerve-wracking) tasks I'd ever been given as a member of Eldrad's retinue. Eldrad had a device with him, a band of wraithbone he claimed had taken him nearly a year to create; he told us that it would keep a Necron in stasis, regardless of what transpired. He also said that our presence wouldn't wake the tomb world; I just had to cling tight to my staff and pray that he was right. Naturally, Eldrad being Eldrad, we couldn't just grab the warrior closest to the entrance and run for it; we had to find the "right" one, which meant walking for nearly an hour into the tomb's depths before he finally selected one identical to every other warrior and locked the band around its head.
By the time we get back to the surface, which took even longer than going in because we dropped that heavy Necron no less than four times on the way back, I'm a bundle of nerves, and it only gets worse during the flight. I can't sleep inside our little ship, knowing that soulless killing machine is onboard with us, knowing about the wars that they fought against our ancestors, and what kind of deaths the Eldar in those days met. It keeps running through my head that it's almost my birthday, that I'll soon be turning 19,873, and that I don't want to get snuffed out before I hit the twenty-thousand-year mark. That's no way for an Eldar to go.
The ship arrives back at Ulthwe the day before my birthday. Eldrad, grinning enigmatically, heads off to his workshop with the Necron, and I stumble up to my cozy dwelling bubble and fall straight into bed, still wearing the same warlock robes I've been wearing since the tomb world. Yes, it was nasty, like something a Mon Keigh would do. I was so tired I didn't care. If that Necron wanted to get me, it'd have to fight through half of Ulthwe to reach me, coming from Eldrad's bubble complex. I slept at last.
Not that it helped much. In my dreams, I'm back in the tomb, with Grey Ones rising to life around me. I run, but I'm trapped; I try to fight, and I get torn into bleeding shreds. I wake up, feeling barely better than when I got off the mission ship, and realize that it's my birthday. Congratulations, self. Outside my bubble, I can sense the collected presence of family and friends, come to wish me success in my new year. Well, you only turn 19,873 once, so I drag myself out of bed, toss my grimy robes aside, and head for the shower; I figure a little session there should revive me enough to at least face my well-wishers graciously. I step through the bathroom door, pull back the shower curtain, and the Necron is in my shower cubicle.
THE NECRON IS IN MY SHOWER CUBICLE. Poised as if to strike, hands raised and clawed metal fingers spread - that memory is one I shall carry to the end of time.
I do the worst thing I possibly could. I panic. I scream at the top of my lungs and run headlong...out of the bathroom...out of my dwelling bubble...and come face-to-face with my birthday crowd. While wearing my "birthday suit," just like a scene from an embarrassing nightmare. There's a moment in which everyone goes silent - everyone except Eldrad, standing off to one side, his snickering audible to all.
I suspect that they'll still be talking about this when I turn 20,000. Thanks, Eldrad. Way to ruin my birthday.
What a dick.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times - Eldrad’s a dick. It’s totally inconceivable to me just how much of a dick he can be sometimes...well, all the time, really. And for something to be inconceivable to me, that’s saying something, I’m an Eldar.
So this time, Eldrad summoned me to some contested planet on the outer rim and explained the situation. He said nothing of our mission except when I asked, but even then his answers were cryptic, as ever. I’d ask him what we would be doing on the planet, and he’d pause, then mumble incoherently, winking at me, or something like that. I thought at the time that the entire thing was just some ridiculous set-up that Eldrad was using to some trivial end, but what it was at the time, I couldn’t fathom.
We departed for the surface with nothing but some poor guardian who probably had no idea what was about to happen. I concealed us against a hillside as we watched the carnage below. The forces of Chaos were attacking an Imperial outpost in the valley ahead of us, which appeared woefully outnumbered. I now realized the gravity of our situation - this planet contained one of the wraith gates that linked through the webway to every Eldar craftworld in existence. Were that to fall into the hands of Chaos...
And at that point, I felt guilty for doubting Eldrad. The greatest psyker in existence, one of the most powerful beings ever to roam the galaxy - and I had dismissed this mission out of hand. I now knew that we could not fail - we could not let the planet fall into the hands of Chaos!
The three of us made our way down the slope, within metres of the battle, concealed by my illusion the entire way. Unobservant of us, a Space Marine Dreadnought lumbered forward, engaging a squad of Chaos Space Marines. The infantry threw themselves against the armored hull, smashing and tearing as best they could, but to no avail - the dreadnought tore each marine apart, one by one.
Then, Eldrad turned to the guardian and made the strangest order I had ever heard, in all my 19,873 years. “Fire at the dreadnought. Its right knee.” The guardian looked in horror as he let loose the rain of shurikens from his catapult, knowing full well what would happen. A single shuriken pierced through the metal joint, and the dreadnought fell forward onto a stray grenade from a dead Chaos Space Marine, and the entire machine exploded in a dizzying spray of shrapnel. I held up my witchblade, averting what I could while my rune armor deflected the rest. Only a few bits of metal managed to scrape against my exposed face. I turned to face Eldrad, to ask the reason for destroying the enemy of those we were attempting to stop, when suddenly, my stomach sank, for two reasons.
One, he was giggling.
Two, a massive squad of fresh Chaos Marines, led by a massive demon, was charging over the hill towards our position.
I screamed at Eldrad to turn, but he simply continued giggling. The squad closed in, until it seemed that our fearless leader would find his end here, when suddenly, the marines scraped to a halt, each one with its eyes on me. One by one, the entire squad, including the demon began to giggle, then laugh, then roll on the ground, guffawing uncontrollably. Eldrad snorted, then ordered a retreat. As we left the planet, I saw the Space Marine barrage annihilate the demon and his squad, buying the defenses enough time to push back the attack. The planet was saved.
It wasn’t until I got into my bathroom (and passed half the damn craftworld) that I realized that, upon my forehead, in impossibly perfect scratches and scrapes, were written the words “I SUCK TYRANID COCK.”
What a dick.
So, Eldrad Ulthran is a huge dick. But you already know that, I say it every day, sometimes twice a day because he’s just that bad.
So, one day I’m hanging out at one of the bakeries in Ulthwe, eating lunch while trying to chat up a really cute Howling Banshee when Eldard walks in. All of a sudden I hear a shout from the bakers (I think he was a Swooping Bagel Exarch) and a loud bang as one of the wraithovens in the back explodes. Out of nowhere a loaf of bread the size of my head comes flying out, rebounds off the wraithglass window, hits my drink and spills it all over my pants, and then sails right into Eldrad’s open hand. He just gives me this smirk and takes a huge bite. Now my pants are soaked and the cute Banshee is laughing at me.
What a dick.
After I’m thoroughly embarrassed, Eldrad announces that we were moving out, this time to Cadia. So an hour later I’m flying the long way there because Eldrad wants to spend the trip chatting up that cute Banshee. My pants are still wet because he never gave me a chance to change them.
After what seems like forever we finally land on Cadia near one of those massive parade grounds the humans love, Eldard has the three of us cloaked under one of his illusions. Up on a huge podium one of their generals is shouting orders and chomping on a cigar. He’s got the biggest damn collar I’ve ever seen, even bigger than the one that Warlock who hangs out with Idranel has.
Anyway, Eldrad has us stand around and twiddle our thumbs for about an hour until he notices a commissar walking by to inspect the huge formation of humans. Eldrad turns to the cute Banshee and whispers something in her ear, and then all of a sudden she shoves me really hard on the back. I stumble forward, out of the illusion, and fall into the commissar, knocking him into the formation and sending ever single soldier toppling to the ground. Apparently one of those soldiers hit a Sentinel in just the right spot and it goes tumbling over into all of the others, which in turn collapse into the lines of tanks and transports like a massive game of wraithdominoes except for all the explosions. In a few seconds the entire parade is a massive flaming wreck.
While I’m frantically trying to get away from the commissar, who’s screaming about the ‘damned xenos,’ Eldrad drops the illusion and just shoots the biggest grin I’ve ever seen up at the human with the huge collar, who’s so angry that he practically swallows his cigar. Then the cute Banshee grabs ahold of me and the three of us hightail it to the ship before the humans can start trying to kill us. As we’re flying away I notice the mass of burning wreckage somehow manages to spell out ‘CREED SUCKS.’ Eldrad just laughs to himself like it’s the funniest damned thing in the world as he takes his seat.
Then we realize that he’s sitting on a Leman Russ.
Ursarkar E. Creed smiles to himself as he pulls out a fresh cigar. “Just as planned.”
I think this thing should hit eighty as a civic disservice before we crash it into the gates of logic. If I were optimistic I'd ask for getting to 100, making this the biggest thread EVER.
ZandrisIV wrote:Some random 40k humour I've found wandering about randomly on the Net. There does seem to be at least one artist with a truly bizarre sense of humour (see Weird and OhYeah for what I mean). The plasma one has been posted here before I believe, but some things you just can't have too much of.
crazypsyko666 wrote:I think this thing should hit eighty as a civic disservice before we crash it into the gates of logic. If I were optimistic I'd ask for getting to 100, making this the biggest thread EVER.
Actually, not even close. There's another thread i'm subscribed to called, "WAR!!!" and it is up in the 200's now.
Automatically Appended Next Post: It's on Dakka in the randoms section, i do believe.
crazypsyko666 wrote:I think this thing should hit eighty as a civic disservice before we crash it into the gates of logic. If I were optimistic I'd ask for getting to 100, making this the biggest thread EVER.
Actually, that honor belongs to Gonads' Fail Thread in the DCM boards, it's already past 150+ pages, almost exclusively from a single poster.
Platuan4th wrote:
Actually, that honor belongs to Gonads' Fail Thread in the DCM boards, it's already past 150+ pages, almost exclusively from a single poster.
But you can't see it unless you're a DCM.
244 pages [/childish mode off]
Automatically Appended Next Post: Love the response to that one wyomingfox
Platuan4th wrote:
Actually, that honor belongs to Gonads' Fail Thread in the DCM boards, it's already past 150+ pages, almost exclusively from a single poster.
But you can't see it unless you're a DCM.
244 pages [/childish mode off]
Nice. I haven't had the money yet to renew my DCM status(don't tell Yak or Lego, but if you lose DCM, you also lose your title altogether until you select a new track yourself).
We also get a hot girl each (or guy if your a female) as part of the subscription fee as well as a life time subscription to "What Sofa" Magazine, but keep it quiet. I'm not suppose to tell any... ...
... oh bugger! *runs out the thread chased by other DCM's wielding pitchforks and torches*
hellsguardian316 wrote:We also get a hot girl each (or guy if your a female) as part of the subscription fee as well as a life time subscription to "What Sofa" Magazine, but keep it quiet. I'm not suppose to tell any... ...
... oh bugger! *runs out the thread chased by other DCM's wielding pitchforks and torches*
What?!?! Surely you mean hot girl, guy, or small fury creature from Alpha Centauri as personal preference dictates! I demand furry creature equality!
hellsguardian316 wrote:We also get a hot girl each (or guy if your a female) as part of the subscription fee as well as a life time subscription to "What Sofa" Magazine, but keep it quiet. I'm not suppose to tell any... ...
... oh bugger! *runs out the thread chased by other DCM's wielding pitchforks and torches*
What?!?! Surely you mean hot girl, guy, or small fury creature from Alpha Centauri as personal preference dictates! I demand furry creature equality!
I just bought the Tau Codex from my FLGS. When i returned, there was an Imperial Guard Codex in my bag along with a single metal model. Confused, thinking someone had switched their bag with mine, i looked down at the mini and it winked at me...
Creed looking all 'Tactical Genius hurr hurr just as planned' as a Imperator Titan slips out of a Space Wolf's emptied bolter shell about to ruin the Space Wolves' day.
Creed leans back and laughs, his face twisted in a visage of supreme arrogance. He looks back at the 'field, a look of almost perverse pleasure on his face slowly degrades into a look of abject horror.
The Titan is gone.
And standing next to where it was stands a single Space Wolf.
The Battle Report Master wrote:
i had a freind come round a few weeks ago to have a 40k apocalpocalpse game i was guards men he was space maines.... my first turn was 4 bonbaonbardlements... jacobs turn to he didnt have one i phased out.
awesomeness is... wrote:
bonbaonbardlements...
Noticed this sig. LOL. I gotta go to that website again for a good laugh.
) has put logical sane disscussion into a 
