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I can't recall the title of the book, it is in the Horus Heresy series. It documents the first Word Bearers being possessed, it made for some interesting reading.
I stopped reading the Horus Heresy books quite early on, but that one has stuck with me. The rest seemed quite forgettable.
The objective of the game is to win. The point of the game is to have fun. The two should never be confused.
stonehorse wrote: I can't recall the title of the book, it is in the Horus Heresy series. It documents the first Word Bearers being possessed, it made for some interesting reading.
I stopped reading the Horus Heresy books quite early on, but that one has stuck with me. The rest seemed quite forgettable.
That was probably First Heretic. Great read, and Argel Tal is one of my favorite characters from the Horus Heresy series!
In Fulgrim, there is a scene where the Remembrancers finally put on their play and orchestra and it devolves into an all out Slaanesh-fest with daemons being summoned and you realize that the Emperor's Children have fallen fully into the clutches of chaos. Man that's a good scene, and pretty brutal.
"I was there when Horus slew the Emporer" To open the first Horus Heresy book and read that, it immediatly had my curiosity piqued.
But on favourite moments I've always liked the Ciaphas Cain books with there more irreverent take on the grim dark. I think the scene in the mess hall during the riot in the first book is one that'll always make me chuckle. Ciaphas Cain:'This mess hall is an absolute disgrace. And no one is leaving until it's been tidied up.'
Another good one from Traitors Hand.
Khornate: Blood for the Blood God!
Ciaphas Cain: Harriers for the cup!
Khornate: Blood for the Blood God!
Ciaphas Cain: Harriers for the cup!
HaHa. I had forgotten that one. Going to use it next time someone drops that phrase on me
Bender wrote:* Realise that despite the way people talk, this is not a professional sport played by demi gods, but rather a game of toy soldiers played by tired, inebriated human beings.
Dantioch wrote: The moment all goes to gak in Know no Fear, the sheer chaos that errupts, the desperate battles that follow and in particular, the scene when the battleship crashes down on Calth. .
Dan Abnett writes a sense of impending doom really well, and really gets across how it feels to be caught in the gears of one of the big events.
My personal favourite is from the first Beast Arises book when it's revealed that it's Orks, and the reaction is disbelief because Orks are these incompetent joke aliens that are just there to get periodically smacked down by the Imperium, they're not meant to be able to do THIS!
"The 75mm gun is firing. The 37mm gun is firing, but is traversed round the wrong way. The Browning is jammed. I am saying "Driver, advance." and the driver, who can't hear me, is reversing. And as I look over the top of the turret and see twelve enemy tanks fifty yards away, someone hands me a cheese sandwich."
ChazSexington wrote: Alternatively, Sevatar: "I am Justice! I am Judgement! I am Punishment! ...And I surrender."
"Helloooooo cousin, don't struggle, this will only take a moment."
*BLAM*
"You didn't have to kill him Jago.."
"No, but it suited me to do so."
Though Sev is also a delight in the Prince of Crows novella.
Malithos: Sevatar, are you mad?
Sevatar: I don't think so. I feel fine.
Moments later..
Var Jahan: Sevatar, you are insane.
Sevatar: So I am often told.
ADB manages to make interesting superhumans; dark, but not edgy, fun, but not comical, evil, but understandable. Add his panache for writing excellent dialogue, and you've got some really, really good books.
The assembly of a Baneblade in "Baneblade". The prolog
I love all the detail for it. From the huge number of slaves needed to pull this house sized mass of metal on a sled, to all the wax seals placed on still hot metal. Gets a good feel for how much effort is put into building something like a Baneblade, not to mention. At the end of the assembly of one tank, the entire procession of preacher and all the tech priests walk back to the other end of the assembly line to start the entire process all over again, prayers, guilded carts for heavy bolters and all.
Hail the Omnissiah, a child of war, born of fire and molten metal. Gifted with great weapons of holy bolt and shell. Built to fight against all those that seek to destroy humanity and the works of the Omnissiah. Crewed by 10 warriors of the Imperium, they hold the bulkward against the foe.
Regiment: 91st Schrott Experimental Regiment
Regiment Planet: Schrott Specialization: Salvaged, Heavily Modified, and/or Experimental Mechanized Units. "SIR! Are you sure this will work!?"
"I HAVE NO IDEA, PULL THE TRIGGER!!!" 91st comms chatter.
My favorite, most memorable part 40k scene I've ever read was Dalin Criid's first combat action as part of the RIP in Armour of Contempt. The terror, blood, sick, everything around really imparted to me the feeling of being on a battlefield in the 41st millenium as just a human with a gun. Titans are striding beside you, fire is falling from the sky, your enemies are god-knows-what distortions of proper reality...
Dan Abnett wrote:
He could smell ozone and oil, and hot metal. Steel plates shrieked, dry and unlubricated, as they took another shuddering step forward. A horn blared. The manufactory hooter noise was the thing’s voice, its warning, not to the foe but to its own kind. Out of my way, I’m walking here. Out of my way, or die.
They started to run, to the right, as Kexie had instructed. The sergeant was running too. Again, Criid felt the stinging breeze of rounds cutting the air beside him. He saw las bolts soar and flicker past. A flying pebble hit him in the leg. He saw a trooper running a few paces ahead twist and fall over. He got down in a shell hole.
The ground trembled with the tread of the titan as it passed. Down in the shell hole, small rocks and sand trickled down with each quiver.
A body fell into the hole on top of him. It was Boulder. He kicked and struggled to get the right way up and dropped his rifle more than once.
“Holy?” he said, realising who he’d fallen in on. That made him laugh, although Criid couldn’t hear it above the titan’s horn. Haw-haw-haw, went Boulder’s mouth. He had a cut over one eye, and his left cheek was covered with soot. Criid signed to ask if he was all right, but Boulder didn’t understand. Caff had taught Criid how to sign. It was a stealth thing, a Ghost thing.
The reminder made Criid wince. There was nothing heroic or exciting about the situation he found himself him, nothing even remotely sensible or purposeful. It was a mad, ragged scramble, full of fear and shocking glimpses of mutilation, and with no clear purpose. He had dreamed of a Guardsman’s life, wanted a Guardsman’s life, and if this was it, it was wretched and idiotic. He felt cheated, as if Caff and his ma and Varl and all the others had been lying to him all these years. No one would want this. No one would choose this.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2018/04/06 12:00:54
Started reading the novel earlier this week, courtesy of the Humble Book Bundle and yes, it is quite awesome to read about a sled being slowly pulled through a factory by indentured workers as they finish the construction, finishing it with a small brass plaque where the commander's name will go.
The scene when the custodes decide to act in Emparors legion is pretty epic. Entire Phalanx like companies marching In rank to war as dreadnoughts and land raiders roll out like heavy cavalry. A classical army goes to war.
Oh and storm of iron... All of it... Lol
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2018/04/06 22:35:17
Sgt. Vanden - OOC Hey, that was your doing. I didn't choose to fly in the "Dongerprise'.
"May the odds be ever in your favour"
Hybrid Son Of Oxayotl wrote:
I have no clue how Dakka's moderation work. I expect it involves throwing a lot of d100 and looking at many random tables.
FudgeDumper - It could be that you are just so uncomfortable with the idea of your chapters primarch having his way with a docile tyranid spore cyst, that you must deny they have any feelings at all.
I'm partial to Kurtha Sedd's fall to Chaos in the two novellas that came out with the Betrayal at Calth box.
His whole inability to reconcile his faith in the Emperor as a God with the Emperor saying he is not a God while displaying Godlike powers in forcing the whole Legion and it's Primarch to kneel through psychic force.
His secretly continuing to believe in the Emperor's divinity and taking each step on the dark path in an effort to goad the Emperor into striking him down and proving his divinity.
and his eventual full embrace of chaos because what he had done was so horrific that a truly divine Emperor would not have been able to allow it.
Unfortunately, he was killed of in the rather average short story Censure to show Ultramarine tactical brilliance in the usual way of doing nothing special but making the bad guys thick as a brick-something the Word Bearers suffer from in almost every story that they are not the protagonists in. (to be fair I believe Censure was written first so its, just unfortunate they fleshed out a dead end character so well)
It would not toy with Khum Karta though. The mighty Land Raider, named after the great mountain range of Chogoris, came thundering over the brow of the slope all guns ablaze, Darkand dirt spinning from its aquila-stamped treads. Modified engine roaring, the heavy battle transport slammed into the mawloc’s segmented body prow-first, before the tyranid could properly free itself from its burrow. The crunch of impact was followed up by the snap-crack of lascannon sponsons and the thudding of heavy bolters as the great tank unloaded its weaponry point-blank into the monstrosity.
The beast was tough. Even the searing power of Khum Karta’s lascannons barely drew ichor from its grubby hide. In response to the ramming attack, the thing brought down four talons in a vicious series of stabs, the clang of diamond-hard chitin rebounding from white adamantium ringing out across the hilltop. Khum Karta’s armour, however, held.
Engine gunning, the Land Raider reversed, dirty smoke churning from its exhaust stacks. The mawloc shrieked at it as it went, thick acidic spittle splattering the hull. The tank had been engaged on the White Scars’ extreme left, almost single-handedly holding back the swarm there. Its white-and-red armour plates and heavy treads were smeared with alien remains and pitted by countless claws and acid sprays.
For a moment, Subodak thought the tank was attempting to disengage from the monster it had so rashly charged. He should have known its commander, Xiamet, better. Engines once more roaring into life, the tank ploughed forward again. This time it hit the xenos so hard it bent the creature back almost double, the tank nearly rolling over the monster’s burrow hole. Its talons, driven by frenzied desperation, gouged great rents in Khum Karta’s hull, but failed to stop it or reach its crew. The great tank rolled back once more, treads biting dirt and alien flesh alike, engines growling as it readied for one more charge.
The mawloc, it seemed, was willing to face such a wild foe no longer. Screeching woefully, it dragged its broken body back down into its hole, fresh earth cascading down with it into the darkness. Khum Karta remained where it was, like a snarling attack dog watching over a snake’s pit.
If someone asked me to describe what 40k is all about in 500 words or less, I'd just quote this and leave.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2018/04/07 20:24:40
Discussions of faith in Titanicus are pretty great. Alot of the stuff Zygmunt Molotch does in the Ravenor series. The sieges in Storm of Iron are great.
Best for me though is Eisenhorn summoning Cherubael against the Titan in the beginning of Malleus. GG mr Puritan
"And what are the achievements of your fragile Imperium? It is a corpse rotting slowly from within while maggots writhe in its belly. It was built with the toil of heroes and giants, and now it is inhabited by frightened weaklings to whom the glories of those times are half-forgotten legends."
karimabuseer wrote: Discussions of faith in Titanicus are pretty great. Alot of the stuff Zygmunt Molotch does in the Ravenor series. The sieges in Storm of Iron are great.
Best for me though is Eisenhorn summoning Cherubael against the Titan in the beginning of Malleus. GG mr Puritan
''Cherubael, kill it.''
Such a good scene to show how broken he was after Benquin. Also a big fan of Cherubael uppercutting an Ogryn into the atmosphere at the start of a scene and it splatting to the floor at the end.
It would not toy with Khum Karta though. The mighty Land Raider, named after the great mountain range of Chogoris, came thundering over the brow of the slope all guns ablaze, Darkand dirt spinning from its aquila-stamped treads. Modified engine roaring, the heavy battle transport slammed into the mawloc’s segmented body prow-first, before the tyranid could properly free itself from its burrow. The crunch of impact was followed up by the snap-crack of lascannon sponsons and the thudding of heavy bolters as the great tank unloaded its weaponry point-blank into the monstrosity.
The beast was tough. Even the searing power of Khum Karta’s lascannons barely drew ichor from its grubby hide. In response to the ramming attack, the thing brought down four talons in a vicious series of stabs, the clang of diamond-hard chitin rebounding from white adamantium ringing out across the hilltop. Khum Karta’s armour, however, held.
Engine gunning, the Land Raider reversed, dirty smoke churning from its exhaust stacks. The mawloc shrieked at it as it went, thick acidic spittle splattering the hull. The tank had been engaged on the White Scars’ extreme left, almost single-handedly holding back the swarm there. Its white-and-red armour plates and heavy treads were smeared with alien remains and pitted by countless claws and acid sprays.
For a moment, Subodak thought the tank was attempting to disengage from the monster it had so rashly charged. He should have known its commander, Xiamet, better. Engines once more roaring into life, the tank ploughed forward again. This time it hit the xenos so hard it bent the creature back almost double, the tank nearly rolling over the monster’s burrow hole. Its talons, driven by frenzied desperation, gouged great rents in Khum Karta’s hull, but failed to stop it or reach its crew. The great tank rolled back once more, treads biting dirt and alien flesh alike, engines growling as it readied for one more charge.
The mawloc, it seemed, was willing to face such a wild foe no longer. Screeching woefully, it dragged its broken body back down into its hole, fresh earth cascading down with it into the darkness. Khum Karta remained where it was, like a snarling attack dog watching over a snake’s pit.
If someone asked me to describe what 40k is all about in 500 words or less, I'd just quote this and leave.
This is all GW writing a nutshell. A powerful, evocative scene that draws you in and *almost* makes you forget what a terrible abuse of the English language was used in writing it.
Bender wrote:* Realise that despite the way people talk, this is not a professional sport played by demi gods, but rather a game of toy soldiers played by tired, inebriated human beings.
It would not toy with Khum Karta though. The mighty Land Raider, named after the great mountain range of Chogoris, came thundering over the brow of the slope all guns ablaze, Darkand dirt spinning from its aquila-stamped treads. Modified engine roaring, the heavy battle transport slammed into the mawloc’s segmented body prow-first, before the tyranid could properly free itself from its burrow. The crunch of impact was followed up by the snap-crack of lascannon sponsons and the thudding of heavy bolters as the great tank unloaded its weaponry point-blank into the monstrosity.
The beast was tough. Even the searing power of Khum Karta’s lascannons barely drew ichor from its grubby hide. In response to the ramming attack, the thing brought down four talons in a vicious series of stabs, the clang of diamond-hard chitin rebounding from white adamantium ringing out across the hilltop. Khum Karta’s armour, however, held.
Engine gunning, the Land Raider reversed, dirty smoke churning from its exhaust stacks. The mawloc shrieked at it as it went, thick acidic spittle splattering the hull. The tank had been engaged on the White Scars’ extreme left, almost single-handedly holding back the swarm there. Its white-and-red armour plates and heavy treads were smeared with alien remains and pitted by countless claws and acid sprays.
For a moment, Subodak thought the tank was attempting to disengage from the monster it had so rashly charged. He should have known its commander, Xiamet, better. Engines once more roaring into life, the tank ploughed forward again. This time it hit the xenos so hard it bent the creature back almost double, the tank nearly rolling over the monster’s burrow hole. Its talons, driven by frenzied desperation, gouged great rents in Khum Karta’s hull, but failed to stop it or reach its crew. The great tank rolled back once more, treads biting dirt and alien flesh alike, engines growling as it readied for one more charge.
The mawloc, it seemed, was willing to face such a wild foe no longer. Screeching woefully, it dragged its broken body back down into its hole, fresh earth cascading down with it into the darkness. Khum Karta remained where it was, like a snarling attack dog watching over a snake’s pit.
If someone asked me to describe what 40k is all about in 500 words or less, I'd just quote this and leave.
This is all GW writing a nutshell. A powerful, evocative scene that draws you in and *almost* makes you forget what a terrible abuse of the English language was used in writing it.
You should show us your novel that has such captivating command of the English language.
I keep thinking of Cain fleeing into the face of the Tyranid ambush, it's a good one.
The moment where the hereditary planetary governor asks how many Iron Snakes have come in response to their distress call and realizes it's just one is great. It's 40k turned up to mythic level, which most of the time it isn't, but I think that time worked.
The Silent Sister pondering over what atrocities they were committing when they first fired up the psyker sacrifice element of the Throne - I liked that in that whole book she was the most humane of the characters, despite having no soul.
Anything from Execution Hour/Shadow Point. Really gave a sense of just how enormously huge 40k warships are.
Anytime Roboute lets his composure slip and goes into "war-form". The internet seems to love piling on to RG and that's partly because of the poster-boy thing the Ultras have going, but I do like the occasional reminder that he IS a warrior demigod, after all. Conversely, I liked Abaddon's Black Legion appearances where he was every bit the skilled diplomat and talented manager. Obviously would have to be to organise the Black Legion, but we often lose sight of that in the wargame version of the story.
