Squishy Oil Squig
Tucson, AZ, US
|
uhhhh i don't have a blog and just needed a place to post this. comments welcome. just as a side note this is an ork army obsessed with heavy metal and getting loaded. i finished a campaign against dark angels and world eaters around 4 months ago.
when boss zarg's ard rokkaz took the world of scarab 7, the planet didn't offer much in the way of sustenance, but it had riches in old world human tech and gear from fallen foes. many of the large aerial transports and war machines used by the dark angels and world eaters was ripe for looting. zarg knew he had little time to get his warband to scour the planet before the squig farms that were hastily created ran out and the orks started fighting each other more often. he ordered all looted tech be trakktored up to orbit and attached to the nearest asteroid and blasted off to da next fight to be sorted out later.
to sweeten the deal, zarg threw a massive concert and the surviving bands played the best show the ard rokkaz ever heard; one that shook the very fiber of the warp itself. the next day, with renewed vigor, and some rehydration, the warband refused to tear down the stage like they always did traditionally.
this time, they wanted to take it with them so they could "rokk da chaos boys in the wurp!"
zarg saw this as a uniting moment (more like one that would distract the warband from the food
shortage), and in his hungover stuper, ordered big mek urty nutz and his best mekz and grot workers to mass a giant "ZOG OFF" glyph and put the stage on top of it.
but, as zarg does, he smoked a little ziggy squig fungus, and ordered a supa kannon be built onto it. and, as zarg does, he drank a little squig beer, and ordered a few more supa kannons be built onto it. and, when zarg saw the nobz shooting up the urty syringe, he did too, and ordered it be put on trakks.
so it was. the mekz, powered by stimulants found from fallen apothecary dispensary-packs, built and built and built, the catchy power riffs of the night previous pounding through their heads. mekz died left and right from exhaustion, but the massive metal fist rose at almost an impossible pace. orks that had no mechanical knowledge drove battlewagons full of scrap and weapons from ravaged battlefields all over the planet. fortunately, the planet's barren surface and lack of deformities made the transport of materials quick and easy.
indeed, when many orks have a single idea and become united in an obsession, even the mighty emperor of man and gods of chaos tremble.
after only a few weeks, the massive metal block was completed, jutting vertical flames on each corner high in the air in near-synchronicity around a large flat metal square. many orks stood silent for hours in awe of the hulk. or because the drugs were beginning to wear off.
once zarg saw "the ladz sittin on dere ands", he raced (or for a mega-armored ork, waddled) over to his new weapon.
zarg kicked a dead mek off the side of the boarding plank and clambored into the main krew compartment for inspection(which basically meant he wanted to fire it and run over something). zarg realized the time had come to launch a proper waaagh! on a major system and stop fighting over scraps.
"it run?" zarg barked.
"oh y-yes boss, let see ere..." a mek stammered as he motioned wildly with a dirty rag to start it up.
the beast came to life.
"it shoot?" zarg roared.
"of course boss! letter rip fellaz!" the same mek said with a little more confidence. he flopped his
arm around in the motion of a "big splodie" to a grot that was peeking through a floor vent. after a
few minutes of waiting (what seemed to be an eternity for the drug-addled mekz being stared at by a warboss) and what sounded like a wartrukk landing on top of a battlewagon, a crack of thunder rattled through the ship and a massive muzzle flash was seen for miles. zarg didn't have to see the shot; the cheers of the orks outside signaled victory for the warband. the grot assistant hopped and skipped around zarg and the krew "shots off, boss! shots off!!!"
zarg punted the grot out one of the nostrils of the skull glyph viewing port and pointed to a dark
angels command land raider that was captured in the last days of the campaign. the mekz all froze in fear.
"RUN IT OVAHHH!!!" zarg shouted as his mighty power klaw shook. the orks outside errupted in even a mightier cheer in acknowledgement of their violent leader's shotung as the metal behemoth rumbled forward. several orks and tens of gretchin scrambled to flee the vehicle, ripping off anything remotely useful before it got flattened to a pancake.
with a mighty screech, the new favored prize of the ard rokkaz rolled over the land raider with not
even so much as a tilt in the main body.
"urty nutz, ya outdun yerself. dis pile of junk ere gonna get us all the loot in the galaxy, mate."
zarg congradulated his lead mek on the project. words that weren't screamed in the face was a sign utmost respect in ork kulture. even if laden with insults.
zarg traveled to the top of the vehicle and walked to the center of the huge flat stage. a grot ran up with a mic and a stand.
"ahem. YA SEE DAT?!" zarg bellowed at the warband. the warband chattered below with laughter but was soon drowned out by feedback.
"OI! CHECK!" zarg bellowed. the grot holding the mic clenched his eyes expecting to be punted into the crowd below which was quickly growing. no feedback this time.
"OI! DIS RAIDA IS WOT WERE GONNA DO TO EMPRAH! AND ALL THE SPIKEY BOYZ! AND DA TIN EADS, AND FISH EADS, AND PANZEES! PACK EM UP BOYZ! LET DERE BE ROKK!"
the audience howled below and the power of the waaagh! was palpable. no great speeches, no elegant anecdotes or idealologies. the orks need only the promise of an even more epic fight where combat will be more brutal, and the explosions bigger, and the thunder louder to be united and the budget crisis solved.
zarg returned to the krew compartment and ordered "LET DERE BE ROKK" be scrolled across the front of the machine in an omage to his declaration of war on the universe.
"get all the loot. we're gettin off dis rock." zarg commanded the mekz on board. zarg turned to urty nutz "so, you built it, ya crazy git. wots ya wantin to name it?"
big mek urty nutz turned his head thoughtfully and stroked his chin for a second, leaving a big grease mark.
"its da metalorkalypse. da end of all fings dat don't rokk!"
|
