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A tale from the dark lands, the attempt at creating Chaos Dwarf background Updated 29.07.12  [RSS] Share on facebook Share on Twitter Submit to Reddit
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Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

To any potential readers, I will update as I can. This first segment will not be very long, but depending on feedback I will post more in the days to come.


The Sons Of Hasthut.

A strong wind blew in from the mountains of Mourne, it howled over the bleak lands beneath it. If one where to assume the shape of a bird and survey this landscape one would soon be disheartened by its form. Wast plains of ash and bone covered the ground, while great mountains covered in clouds rose up from the ash wastes to hinder further travel.

This desolate land was known under many names, but the most common was the dark lands. Who it carried well. Within its borders all sorts of beasts and worse dwelled. But all but a few of these inhabitants could claim to be safe from the predations of its would be masters.

This cruel and twisted kin goes by the name of Dawi Zharr or Uzkul Dhrath-Zhar as they call their kindred, other simply known them as the Chaos Dwarfs. Masters of infernal forges and hellish inventions that spread fire and mayhem as they are unleashed on their foe.
They are friends with none, and no realm can claim them as their allies. In fact these fallen Dwarfs stand alone, but that seems to have had no impact on their plans for the world around them.

Their society is ruled with an hell steel clad hand by the Daemon smiths & Sorcerers who has maintained a firm grip on power for many long aeons. These twisted and merciless Dawi are the ones whos word is law and must be obeyed at all costs by their hellish minions.

The leader of the host this text will describe goes by the name of Gothmog Hazdrubel, not much is known about his origins. But what is known that he a Dwarf hell-bent on reaching his goals within the bloodied and merciless ranks of the Daemon smith brotherhood.

His seat of power, and the ancestral home of his clan lies near the foothills of the World Edge mountains, from theses bloodstained halls his subordinates carry out their masters work, in its deep bowls vast forges constantly churn out weapons of war, and suits of armour for the Infernal Guard.

On the day our tale begins fresh slaves where being brought in, their faces covered in dust and terror gripping their hearths. The long caravan stretched for almost half a kilometre, broken up by groups of Dwari slavers heavily armed and who kept a merciless vigil over their precious cargo.
These unlucky souls where destined for the great forge works deep beneath them. Although a few had been selected for more specialized tasks.
Whips cracked and harsh commands drove them onwards until the last stumbling slave had entered the great hold.

As the slaves where sorted by age,gender and race. And then placed in holding pens until they where to be marked a fell presence could be felt entering the great hall.
Gothmog entered the hall flanked by his Infernal Guard and his most trusted Castelan who never strayed from his lords side.
With a voice that revealed his age he spoke “ I hope for your sake mongrel that this shipment of cattle will last longer. I will NOT tolerate anything of the quality you delivered the last time.”

The Dwarf receiving this verbal abuse was a scarred warrior with eyes that spoke of exceptional greed and sadism. “ Of course, these are some of the best slaves to pass my hands in a long time. I also took the precautions of leaving them unbranded, I imagined you wanted the honour. “ he said and kept his head low as a show of respect.

“Hmm yes, I see that you did. Very well you seem to have done a acceptable job this time Agrur” the old Daemon smith said and continued his inspection.


As Gothmog and his Castelan approached the first slave pen they could hear the sobbing and sounds of anguish from within. These sounds only brought a grin to the Castelan`s face, his master had heard it a thousand times before.

Yes this would indeed be an amusing start to a new day the old Dwarf thought to himself as the first victim was brought fourth, her hair tangled and her cloths ripped. As the hot steel branding tool touched her fair skin her screams mingled with those of her companions.

This message was edited 13 times. Last update was at 2012/07/29 00:01:56


 
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

This could be a good fit for your style of storytelling, methinks! You make it sound quite authentic in tone and manner, especially the opening descriptive passages. Are there going to be any heroes coming to the fore, or it this all about the dwarves?

Looking forward to the next installment!

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

The feedback is appriciated, yes heros will come to the front. But not as you expect thou
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim


Chapter II.

Snow fell from the sky, seemingly intent on eradicating all forms of landscape beneath its chilling embrace. However thou it would find no success against the great shape slowly trudging true the land. This mountain of muscle and fat could only be one thing, A Ogre who had for a long time been tracking something true this cold and remorseless land. His name was Greyskull and he was a deeply angered Ogre. Long had his clan called these foothills home and now he was the sole survivor, and those had murdered his kin had disappeared into the mountains.

Now for the educated or well travelled reader this particular Ogre may seem somewhat unusual. And that would not be far from the truth. Greyskull was born under the light of the witch moon. And his mind was something never seen in a member of his tribe. He possessed a mind that could rival most humans. And he was well versed in its use, this had naturally not been well received in in tribe so the young Ogre had also learned to defend himself from a early age.
Now our tale shall return to that frozen land where our Ogre in question still tracked his prey.

What he was hunting carried the smell of ash and brimstone, he had seen what these devils had done and by the great maw, vengeance would be his. Although he would need something to even the odds with. Even a mighty Ogre could not take on a army by him self. Therefore he followed their trail towards thee dark lands while a plan formed in his mind.


Meanwhile in the abysmal Dwari hold further to the east the age worn Daemon smith Gothmog stood in the hearth of his personal forge, his mind was truly focused on the task at hand. Before him stood a number of cast iron figures, these great constructs where the first things required to create the living engines of war known as K`daai Fireborn. However it had proven harder then expected to bind the daemonic entities to their cast iron prison.
He swore loudly and served the cowering slave next to him a forceful slap with the back of his steel encased hand.

The pale skinned girl wiped quietly as her master merely ignored her bleeding cheek and continued his experiment.
She had been spared the fate of her former companions who had been cast alive into the roaring fires in the temple of her masters gruesome god. Their screams as their skin and flesh where consumed by flames that seemed to be guided by an unseen hand still haunted her dreams when she dozed of.
“Sigmar help me” she quietly as she wiped the blood from her chin.
The weeks after her capture had been horrid but it had all paled compared to where she now dwelled. She remembered the night these devils had attacked the small hamlet she had called home in the Border princes land.
She had seen friends and loved ones die by their hands and her own face had been marred by their foul touch, yet this gaunt woman refused to curl up and die in her sleep, or succumb to grief and hopelessness.

“Damn you then infernal hell spawn” Gothmog growled as the Fireborn collapsed in a heap of smouldering iron. Deciding he did not feel to watch yet another of these damned things smoulder and warp he ordered his acolytes to clear the derbies away.
Age had not been kind to him, one might say for someone as cruel and emotionless it would be a fitting reward, but for him it was yet another enemy to add to a long list.

As he left the forge behind he was accompanied by his eternally present Infernal Guard, however his Castelan was not present. This was something that made his always suspicious mind ponder the options. And last but to his dark sense of pleasure his personal slave. He had spared her from the sacrifice to Hasthuth, and he relished in her terror and beauty. Yes she would live until he grew tired of her or she died from other causes.

He had considered adding a new section to his personal chambers, the slave needed sun and fresh air. Beside more space would mean more room to collect more trophies to his personal glory. Yes so it would be, he would order it tomorrow.
But first he needed some recreation, and she would provide that in abundance what he desired.

As the great brass doors to his quarters drew shut Miranda felt a shiver crawl up her spine.
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

Trondheim wrote: Age had not been kind to him, one might say for someone as cruel and emotionless it would be a fitting reward, but for him it was yet another enemy to add to a long list.


Loved that line. A nicely understated character flourish.

So who's the hero going to turn out to be? Greyskull or Miranda? Or both (an unlikely team-up, to be sure )

Keep it coming,Trondheim. Look forward to reading more.

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Well that is to be decided yet, I think I need to plan those two out a bit more. But yes those two will be the good and the ugly to speak of this tale.
   
Made in ca
Excellent Exalted Champion of Chaos






Grim Forgotten Nihilist Forest.

Gothmog= ?


I like you're choice of hero. A ogre of all things. Very original and I like your descriptive writing it rivals my own by far.

I've sold so many armies. :(
Aeldari 3kpts
Slaves to Darkness.3k
Word Bearers 2500k
Daemons of Chaos

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Thanks buddy, wonderd if anyone would get the reference to LOTR and He man
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

Didn't want to comment on the Castle Greyskull thing as I wasn't sure if He-Man had made it that far north

I picture the ogre as having a bad 80's blond bob / mullet combo now ...

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

@ Necroagogo : Oh most definitly, He man was my favorit past time in years gone by


Chapter III.

Meanwhile these events where unfolding something else was afoot several leagues to the west. The Ogre Greyskull had reached his destination, the great glacier where the tribe who had fostered his now dead and gone clan resided.
Here he knew he would find friends, or at least a temporary shelter while he brewed up plans for revenge. As he drew closer to the massive glacier he realised he was being followed, his keen nose alerted him to their presence long before he heard the grumbling from their bloodstained maws.

He continued a bit further still not revealing that he knew that he was being followed, but he knew he had to end this now. As he reached the far end of a small river he had waded true he turned and faced his followers.
Behind him three massive shapes came into sight, each was several heads taller than a man and their bodies where sinewy and lean. A stench of carrion and death hung about them.
Greyskull stood firm, he knew such beasts where not mindless brutes, Gougers where far worse. They where something akin to a distant relative of sorts. Butt that did not make them any less deadlier.
But he knew these three, they where allowed to roam free by the clan he intended to seek out. They served as guards and kept unwanted guests away or in their bellies to be precise.

The largest beast who had a skin colour that reminded him of the very foundations of the mountains roared to him, and came towards him in a thundering charge.
This was more like it Greyskull thought and grinned a toothy grin and stood firm ready to meet the beast head on.
They collided in a earth moving mix of bellows and grunts, he knew he had end it fast. As a show of strength and dominance.
But the beast was no stranger to fighting either, it too was intent on ending this fast but for the reason that hunger gnawed at its belly.

Greyskull dodged a swipe from the Gouger and returned the favour with a fist that could crush stone. It connected with the beast on the chin and sent it reeling but it was not out yet, it began to circle him. Aware that this was no soft prey, it came at him again this time silent as a grey arrow in flight but it was caught mid flight and held in a crushing grip. This drove it wild, it bit down hard on a exposed shoulder and was rewarded with a thundering head butt that splintered a tooth and knocked it down, where a iron clad boot meet its heaving chest.

It almost whimpered in acknowledgement that it had lost. Its companions began to creep forwards but was meet with a low growl from the Ogre that stood tall. Slowly it rose to its feet and seemingly embarrassed shrunk back from the Ogre that had beaten it, although that one too had marks to show for it.
He watched them slip away, growling and casting long stares at him. But they knew he was not food. Easier prey would be found instead.

He resumed his journey and soon found him self near the camp site, the smell of blood, Ogre beer and waste tickled his nose. Yes it was good to smell those things again.

When he reached the outskirts of the great encampment he was quickly confronted by several Iron Guts who barred his way, he felt a slight relief that at least some was guarding the place.

The guards lowered their massive scimitars once their rather limited minds recognized his tribal markings and the fact that he had he bore the marking of a friendly tribe.





   
Made in us
Deadly Dark Eldar Warrior





I've been reading the story. I know next to nothing about Fantasy fluff, so I can't comment on that, but I'm writing up a review of writing style. Give me a few hours to work it out and I'll post it. Not really many errors, just things that could be changed to sound more smooth.

Beg for mercy, not that it will help you - Asdrubael Vect.  
   
Made in us
Ancient Space Wolves Venerable Dreadnought




The oceans of the world

Good job Trond. Not a big Fluff person, but I liked it.
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Thank you Great White, glad you enjoyed it.
   
Made in us
Deadly Dark Eldar Warrior





This is just a list of things I noticed in no particular order. There will be good and bad presented here. I’ll also provide what I think would be corrections.

In the first sentence, I’d replace the comma with a period and add to the new second sentence. It seems like that would flow better.

“Wast” should be changed to “vast”, but overall your descriptions and imagery are damn good.

“This desolate land was known under” may sound better as “was known by”

“others simply known them as Chaos dwarfs. Masters of infernal” to “others simply call them Chaos Dwarfs, the masters of infernal…”

You have odd capitalizations that don’t make much sense. In the 4th paragraph, daemon and sorcerer are capitalized. I tend to only capitalize these terms when they are titles for a character, which they aren’t here.

“On the day our tale begins fresh slaves were being brought in, their faces covered in dust and terror gripping their hearths” to “On the day our tale begins, fresh slaves were being brought in. Their faces were covered and dust and their hearts gripped by terror”

In the same paragraph you have sentences that seem too short. They could easily be joined together with others.

“Castellan” has two “L”s

At the end of a sentence of dialogue, there should be a comma unless it’s a question or exclamation.

In the last paragraph, it’s “forth” not “fourth”.

Since I don’t know the fluff, your grammar and style is all I could comment on. Your imagery and descriptions is top notch. It’s just the little things you need to worry about.

Beg for mercy, not that it will help you - Asdrubael Vect.  
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Thank you, I will try to improve on the things you pointed out. And it may seem I need to replace Open office with a better text program
   
Made in us
Deadly Dark Eldar Warrior





I just use microsoft word. If you go over it a few times when you're done, you'll be amazed at how it looks.

Also, I didn't notice any for the most part, but be careful about repeating certain words or phrases. For example, you may unintentionally use the word "glance" as a verb in two consecutive sentences. It sounds crappy.

Beg for mercy, not that it will help you - Asdrubael Vect.  
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Ah I see, well hopefully this part is better then. But enjoy the story, next part will be up in a few days


Chapter 4.
As a new dawn broke above the ash strewn wastes of the dark lands, had the slaves in the infernal hold that lay like a great colossus nestled in the roots of the mountains, been toiling away for countless hours, their whip marked backs bent under great loads of ore and fuel for the forges of their masters.

However these damned souls had far more pressing concerns that the rising sun that they would never see again. The great forges where volatile at the best of times but on this fateful day they where in a state of turmoil. The daemon smiths worked furiously to calm the raging fire daemon bound within them, countless barrels of blood where doused in its gaping maw, and a score of slaves where thrown into it as a sacrifice to the aspect of their god raging inside it.
With a sound similar to the great and terrible storms that ravage the sea of claws come winter the massive furnace cracked open and spewed molten metal and other deadly substances forth in a tidal wave of death and horror.

As this potential catastrophic event happened Gothmog and his retinue was headed that very same way. However they soon learned of the events taking place beneath them. The first sign that something was awry was a deep rumbling, followed by a muffled howl.
“By the fires of the abyss” said the old devil as he regained his footing. “WHAT are those imbeciles doing in the forges! Quickly there is no time to loose.”

Upon hearing their lord utter these commands the sixty or so infernal guard began to move at great speed towards the forges, leaving a handful of their comrades in arms to guard their master, alongside the casstellan. However in this steel clad group there was one more individual and that was Miranda. Unlike her fellow slaves she was not marked by the whip or hard labour in the forges and she was reasonably well fed.
However she had suffered a just as dark faith, but now a tiny spark of hope was ignited in her soul.
Just as our female hero waited for salvation something happened down below their feet.

Just as the Infernal guard started to pour into the vast forges where the mishap had happened a great and dreadful shape rose from the fiery bed of burning metal and other remains.
With a thundering roar the great form rose to its full height, its large form radiated daemonic fury. Its head was crowned with a set of horns and its skin was coloured deep red. And its eyes glittered with a ageless seething hatred for any mortal that dared to defy its will.
Now there would be a reckoning for these fools it decided. It walked forwards on great legs that ended in hooves and in one hand it held a sword forged from the very fires of the abyss it self.

But these mortals where not cowards. A hail of blunderbuss shots meet the beast head on. As began to run towards them a second volley hit it. Any other foe would have dropped dead from such punishment but not this beast. Its sword fell and rose in great arcs and hewed infernal guards apart with ease, but they did not falter. Instead they returned the gesture in kind and tried to slow it down.

Suddenly a wave of heat rolled across the hall where dwarf and daemon fought. The great beast did not give this any consideration until a terrible pain struck it in its chest, it looked down and saw a searing hot dagger embedded in its form.
A voice filled with centuries of experience and malevolence could be heard of the dim of battle.
“ I bind you daemon, to this vessel! baru khazad daemonoi” howled a daemon smith that had survived the mayhem caused by the daemon breaking free from its fiery prison.

The old smith had committed all the power had within him to this attempt. His mind imagined the rewards for binding the foul beast, but such foolish dreams are best kept apart from the battlefield.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2012/06/29 23:41:20


 
   
Made in us
Deadly Dark Eldar Warrior





Ahh, I realized it. English isn't your first language is it? If its not, you're doing great. Most of the issues I'm seeing is with words that are spelled very similarly, like "loose" and "lose".

If you pay attention to situations where you have words like that, typos will become less and less frequent. I can already tell its improved already.

One last thing, I suggest reading your work out loud. That way you can determine where you have any misplaced commas or weird sentences.

Beg for mercy, not that it will help you - Asdrubael Vect.  
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Yes my first languange is Norwegian, so your correct in that assumtion. Hmm reading out loud you say? I will definitly try that when Im alone
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

Like all the best old sagas, it should be read aloud!

I like the mix of characters you're handling - pacing's pretty good too. I've practically no knowledge of Chaos dwarf fluff but you're doing a good job of imparting what I need to keep up.

Keep it coming.

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

I would like to thank all my readers, and those who has given me feedback. I can not say how much I appriciate it. So thank you all.

@ Necroagogo : Yes sagas need reading out aloud.


Chapter 5.

As magical currents rippled across its daemonic form, did the daemon recognize its new and potentially deadly foe. It also noted that the old mortal fool had lost a hint of concentration, if daemons could smile it would have had a massive toothy grin across its face.

With a deep rumbling growl it grasped a infernal guard in its massive fist and hurled the steel clad projectile across the great chamber. With a loud and wet thud the dwarf hit the sorcerer square in the chest.
Much can be said about the toughness of dwarfs but even they are limited by the limitations of flesh and bone. With a resemblance of surprise and horror on his the old mage lost control of the spell he was weaving. The following events was far from benefiting for the now hard pressed infernal guard, their weapons where all but ineffective against such a foe, and now the one who could have turned the tide was dead.

The following blast sent the survivors reeling, and that may have been the end of the once great hold had it not been for the bravery or foolishness for a single infernal guard. In both hands he gripped his enchanted axe and struck with all his might as the daemon slaughter his comrades in arms. His weapon struck his foe square in the abdomen.
The daemon bellowed in pain as the foul energies in the weapon bit hard, it swatted at its attacker with a fist and swung its sword in great arches to kill its new attacker, but to no avail. The dwarf was a seasoned fighter and did not fear death or damnation. He pressed his attack and delivered a gruesome blow to his foe at the knee. Unholy sinewy and bone where cut of and the great beast fell to the ground crippled.
With their foe layed low it did take long for the remaing infernal guard to finally banish it. But it had taken the lives of scores of warriors, several daemon smiths and one of the oldest sorcerer with it. And not to mention the lives of several hundred slaves that needed replacing.

When Gothmog and his entourage including Miranda reached the ruined and corps strewn forge works and the outlying hall, it became clear to those who had survived that they where not safe yet. The old dwarf seemed to boil over with barely controlled anger.
However this did not mean he did not see the things that needed to be done. First the forges needed to be cleared for derbies and broken corpses. Then new slaves would be needed, however the slave traders where not due for several months. And new stock where required immediately.

To address this issue he ordered the hold to prepare for a expidtion to the lands of men. Yes he thought, soon new stock would be acquired, and maybe a new toy too in the proses.

   
Made in us
Mutated Chosen Chaos Marine







This exceeding well written. Like Necroagogo, this is my first experience with Chaos Dwarf stuff. I have to say that I like it.

Keep up the good work!
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Aww thanks LL, Yes I do feel a need to enligthen the people on these fellows. Next part is in the works, althou it has taken a backseat to my painting of Ogres
   
Made in no
Quick-fingered Warlord Moderatus




Norway

For general critique the chapters is a bit short. I prefer them to be a bit longer.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2012/07/05 19:26:32


If you have nothing nice to say then say frakking nothing. 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Okay my dear readers, here is the somewhat delayed update.

Chapter 6.

Meanwhile the dwarfs prepared to march forth from their still smouldering hold, someone else was also conjuring up plans but of another sort all together.

A strong wind howled across the glacier as a procession of unmistakable figures lumbered up toward the great mountain peak hidden in the whirling snowstorm. These where the ogres of the Ice Maw tribe, by ogre standards they where a grim lot, they had little good to say about the normal activities of their fellow ogres. They did not waste time fighting over scraps of food or petty land claims, their homeland where to harsh for such foolishness. Time had taught them this in a gruesome way. When they first had settled here they had been very numerous but soon winter set in, and with that came the famine. Many of their kinsfolk froze to death or fell prey to the beasts that stalked the land.

Many years later the ones that remained was changed by the freezing hell some might say they called home. But none could deny that these where ogres who stood head and shoulder taller than most, they where truly massive. And their skin had taken a likeness to that of their environment, it radiated a pale blue glimmer as if they where covered in a layer of glittering ice. They also had much more hair than their fellow ogres. This gave them a wild and savage appearance to those who did not know of them beforehand.

As the group neared the peak that was their goal did they halt. The leader a massive and age worn Ogre tyrant clad in heavy furs and with a great axe in one hand looked to his guest.
“You better not be trying to take advantage of your bloodline lad.” the old ogre said to his younger kinsman.
Greyskull looked into the murky eyes of his old kinsman “ I swear by the maw that would never be my plan either! All I want is revenge over those who slaughtered my clan.” the huge ogre replied to the question.

The old tyrant merely grinned a toothy grin and began to walk again. Soon the group reached the snow and ice covered peak, here the freezing wind howled around them, and flakes of snow wiped their faces. But none complained, his was their most holy site, where only the most trusted members of the tribe was allowed access.
Here the would the one who no longer had a clan to call his own be joined with their own clan. And such become their equal.
As he knelt in respect for his new tyrant and lord Greyskull heard the old and time worn oath being recited by those around him.

As he rose afterwards he felt one burden lift from his great shoulders, now there was only one left to be ridden of.

As the others left him he gazed to the east, far in the distance he could see the shimmering outlines of a great range of dark foreboding mountains. There where the place where his revenge awaited him. Soon there would be a time of reckoning.

As he caught you to the other ogres he felt a slight shiver pass true his great body, he turned around to see the very same Gouger he had bested the previous day standing where he had stood. Its great body marked by tooth and fang, and blood had clearly been shed in vast amounts. But the beast stood tall and looked almost if it challenged him, but he recognized the look in its eyes. It too was alone now.
Reaching down to his belt Greyskull threw a piece of dried meat to the wounded beast. It disappeared down its greedy maw before the beast once again slipped back into the frozen land.
Later that night while a great feast was under way Greyskull sat with his new ruler and described the events that had lead him to the lands of the Ice Maws. He told how he had returned from a hunting trip when he had seen smoke rise in the distance, think black bellowing smoke rinsing from his homestead. When he reached it all that remained was charred bones and smouldering sacrificial fires, that and the enemy dead.


   
Made in us
Mutated Chosen Chaos Marine







Excellent new entry, Trondheim.
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Thank you LoneLictor, Im attemting something else than my normal bloodstained stories, But the next chapters will see a great increase in the bodycount I recon.
   
Made in us
Mutated Chosen Chaos Marine







Trondheim wrote:Thank you LoneLictor, Im attemting something else than my normal bloodstained stories, But the next chapters will see a great increase in the bodycount I recon.


Looking forward to it.
   
Made in gb
Esteemed Veteran Space Marine




Sheppey, England

Can really feel the cold coming off this episode! One quibble (and it's only a small one) is that you seemed to dispose of the whole 'joining the tribe' ceremony quite abruptly ... this could have been a really characterful insight into Ogre society, tribalism and traditions.

Enjoying the unfolding story, as always ...

Click for a Relictors short story: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/412814.page

And the sequels HERE and HERE

Final part's up HERE

 
   
Made in no
Terrifying Doombull





Hefnaheim

Necroagogo wrote:Can really feel the cold coming off this episode! One quibble (and it's only a small one) is that you seemed to dispose of the whole 'joining the tribe' ceremony quite abruptly ... this could have been a really characterful insight into Ogre society, tribalism and traditions.

Enjoying the unfolding story, as always ...


Well sorry about that, that is due to me not knowing what to put in there. I may add it later as a add on.
   
 
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