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Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Dorset, England

Hello,

I'm just getting back into 40k and have been reading the old Rogue Trader era books for inspiration. I really like how the Orks are portrayed in those books, not as mindless killing machines but as a primitive but functioning society. I noticed this creeping back into the 7th edition codex which was nice to see. In any case I was inspired to right a story of my own so I though I would share. I don't plan on writing it all at once so I just have the first part at the moment. I hope you enjoy!

Cheers
Kroem

Part 1

Skargrin’s beady red eyes scanned the horizon with a practiced gaze; once satisfied that their arrival had gone unnoticed he turned to observe the Kommandos emerging from the squat, ramshackle transport ploughed into the rocky earth behind him.
Despite appearances, the craft had delivered all but one of the orks to the planet surface. The unfortunate casualty had been flung some distance from the craft and a scrum was quickly developing around the body over the best bits of his gear.

Lumbering up to the melee with a low growl Skargrin aimed a swinging backhand at his lieutenant, Gutslyca, who looked to have briefly gained the upper hand. Gutslyca went sprawling in the dust whilst the other orks laughed gutturally and quickly shuffled out of the Nob’s reach.

“Listen up you grots, you knows the plan and I don’t want to see anyone bashin’ ‘eads till I sez so.”

The few grumbles of the small group were quickly silenced with a threatening glare. Skargrin wasn’t fond of detailed plans, they made his head hurt, but experience had taught him that a good plan often ended with lots of killing and lots of loot. He knew his large bulk and sharpened chopper would keep the boyz in line until then.

“Wherse da runts got to? Gutslyca, get them movin’ an unload the extra gear.”

An angry looking Gutslyca and some of the other boyz started digging around the wrecked transport to find the missing Gretchin. The twisted pieces of metal and fractured earth provided many hiding places and the rest of the mob instinctively fanned out in covering groups around the transport.

Skargrin began scoping up handfuls of dust from the ground and rubbing it into his skin nodding in approval as he saw other orks doing the same. Nothing was better camouflage than the planet itself although he thought old Krumpa was going a bit far as he saw him trying to tie a rock to the side of his head.

A shout went up from the transport “Hur hur, I don’t think they is gunna be doing much work boss. Dey is mush”
One of the search party was hold up a skinny green arm dripping fluid into an expanding greenish puddle.

“Zog it” snarled Skargrin, “Grab what you can lads, we’s needing all the dakka we can carry.”

“Boss, I sees it!” Snagtoof, the proud owner of a shiny spyin’ stikk, gestured towards the peaks of a nearby chain of mountains. The burnished steel of a massive cannon barrel could just be made out against the harsh light of the system’s sun.

“Right, move it into dem rocks over there. We is all sneaky gits until we reach da target, got it?”

Grabbing ammo boxes and bags of stikk bombs as they went, the group quickly fell into a shuffling run hugging the rocky outcrops at the fringe of the mountains range to disguise their movements.
Taking the lead, Skargrin looked back at his mob. They were heavily weighed down and progress across the broken ground would be slow, Gutslyca had so many ammo belts for his massive shoota slung around his shoulders that he had to be shoved up the steeper slopes, but they were on the move…

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2017/01/19 08:35:33


 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Dorset, England

Part 2

“Ding!” the sound of the Burna bomb slipping from Krumpa’s belt and striking the bare rock rang like a bell in the clear air.

A frustrated snarl escaped Skargrin’s lips as he leapt up next to Krumpa and started sprinting toward the Deathskull Ork below. Moments before it had been wondering haplessly past unaware of the two Kommandos hiding close by.
Heavily camouflaged and carrying only his choppa Skargrin was fast closing the distance when Gutslyca came careering past. He had been stationed further up the defile and had thrown himself down the hill to build up speed.

Killing an Ork quietly is quite a feat, they are obnoxiously loud and tough creatures, but this time Skargrim’s luck held. Veering away as it rolled down the slope, the distracting noise of the Burna bomb took the doomed Ork’s gaze away from the approaching Kommandos just long enough for their arrival to be a complete surprise.
Reaching him first, Gutslyca grabbed the Ork and bodily threw him heavily to the ground in Skargrin’s path. Skargrin pounced sliding his choppa under its chin straight into the voice box and vocal chords letting nothing but a strangled squeak escaped its mouth.

After dispatching the struggling Ork, Skargrin and Gutslyca lay still on the ground until they were certain that the incident had gone unnoticed.

“Zoggin’ Krumpa, remind me to beat ‘im to death next time” said Skargin under his breath.
“Yes boss” Gutslyca grinned back. “How many times you gunna’ kill ‘im now? Many? Or was dat lots?”

They were dangerously close to an Ork settlement surrounding the base of a massive orbital cannon. It was the first of the many large human structures and ruins which became increasing common as the ground stretched away from the mountain range.

“Dunno, let’s get movin’”

They had been positioning equipment and placing booby traps around the settlement for hours, there were less Deathskulls than he had thought, but still enough for a good scrap. Most of them seemed to be absorbed with drinking and watching pit fighting for the moment which had made things easy.
The obvious injuries on some of the Deathskull boyz made Skargin think that this tribe had got the bad end of a recent fight, and that local boss was making a point of showing that he was still the biggest and the best.

“Dis is da last run, gather the lads an let them know. Weze smash em when I give the signal”
Gutslyca nodded a slunk away…

An hour later Skargrin had just about run out of patience. He had infiltrated deep into the Deathskull settlement, mainly because he liked to fight up close and personal but also to show the other gits just how sneaky he was.
Not having given much thought to what the signal should be he went with his gut, twisted the fuses on a whole pouch of stikk bombs, and lobbed the lot in the direction of the biggest group of Orks he could see.
He laughed heartily to himself as he heard their bellows of surprise and then the explosions started…
   
Made in gb
Renegade Kan Killin Orks






Northern Ireland

You killed the Gretchin! How could you?

Nice story. Good bit of orky animosity going on too. Always loved a good bit of ork fiction. You're hitting the tone of the ork dialogue pretty well too which is always tricky.

   
Made in ca
Stormin' Stompa






Ottawa, ON

Orks sabotaging Orks? Colour me interested.

Ask yourself: have you rated a gallery image today? 
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Dorset, England

Hi chaps, thanks for the kind words. This is the first thing I have ever tried writing so it is nice to have some positive feedback

I haven't had much time to continue the story lately but I have been thinking about it. In the meantime I though I would share some of my background for Bisharn II which I think will be the location for the tribe of snakebite Orks that I am building at the moment.

Cheers
Kroem

Extract from: Notes from a Career in Trade – Personal Memoirs of the Rogue Trader Albrekt Harkins

<EXTRACT BEGINS>

In my time as a Rogue Trader I have had occasion to visit many hundreds of unsavoury and unremembered planets. However, a particular one that stands out in my memory is the ruined world of Bisharn II.

Considering the once prominent position that it once held in the commercial trading circles of its neighbours, there is scant interest in the planet today from those outside of the relic hunting profession. However, for those willing to look there is still much to be found.
The surviving records indicate that the planet first came to the attention of the Imperium as a haven for xenos pirates during the dark days of the Age of Apostasy. The only notable facts recorded by the compliance task force seem to be signs of considerable Eldar habitation in the distant past and the remarkably sadistic nature of the scattered pirate bands.

In its heyday it is evident that the planet exported a large amount of luxury foodstuffs to the surrounding systems, including a number of fruit based delicacies that appear endemic to the planets large and benign forests.
Shanties about settling down with a farm girl from Bisharn can still be heard in the ports of surrounding systems once again proving that spacefarers have the longest, if not the most reliable, of memories.

Sadly any visitor to the world today will find it much changed. The aging of the systems star and the accompanying climate change dried out the biosphere, resulting in a wholesale collapse in the planet’s economy.
This event marks the end of the planet’s notoriety in Imperial records, its subsequent capture during a minor Ork migration is relegated to a footnote in ‘Spiritual Recollections’ published by Cardinal Gregorius of Trusca many years after the fact.

The planet’s arid planes and mountains are now sparsely inhabited by roaming tribes of Orks the most powerful of which lay claim to territory in and around the old Imperial settlements around the equatorial belt. Indeed it is the archeotech and xenos technology contained with the worlds ruined cities that make it a prime target for relic hunters and traders such as myself.

The only true danger to the interstellar captain is centred around the moon of Pim. This hosts a fluctuating number of Freeboota and Blood Axe mercenaries who often vie for hegemony with the planet’s tribal leaders or provide transport for Orks to greater conflicts elsewhere.

Whilst these rogues present a threat they also are an excellent source of opportunity. Opportunity which I was to exploit in one of the greatest and most lucrative incidents of my career as I will now relate…

<EXTRACT CONCLUDES>
   
Made in gb
Renegade Kan Killin Orks






Northern Ireland

Very nice little extract. I'm gonna write up that Space shanty!

   
Made in au
Mutilatin' Mad Dok





Australia

Nice fluff, Blood Axes are best orks

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Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Dorset, England

Cheers mate!

I haven't forgotten about this story, but I am having difficulty creating a next installment that I am happy with.
   
Made in gb
Mekboy Hammerin' Somethin'





Dorset, England

Ok Chaps, part three, such as it is, follows below.

Cheers
Kroem

Part 3

The surprise of the attack was absolute. Many of the Deathskulls, thinking that the attack was coming from other mobs within their tribe, lashed out at each other creating an almighty brawl and caused even greater confusion amongst their ranks.
Gutslyca, set up in a crude hovel on the settlements outskirts, reaped a bloody toll with his bigshoota amongst the tightly packed Orks around the fighting pits. Even when he missed, the hunks of shrapnel created by the torn up chunks of masonry was almost as deadly, much to the Ork lieutenant’s delight.

Unfortunately, the roar of his shoota was giving Deathskull boyz something to focus their anger on.
Laying about with their meaty fists and shoving boys forward, their Nobs eventually managed to organise the bulk of the Deathskull boyz into a ragged charge.
With primal screams and whoops of jubilation the great tide of green flesh started rumbling through the settlement toward Gutslyca’s position.


Keeping themselves hidden, and picking off stragglers as they could, Skargrin, Snagtoof and a handful of the other Kommandos skirted around the bulk of the Deathskulls as they charged off.
“Make for da target over dere” Skargrin instructed his team as they picked their way through the twisted metal wreckage surrounding the fighting pits and progressed towards the base of the orbital defence gun towering above them.
“Boss, look dere” growled Snagtoof, pointing into the arena itself, his face splitting into an evil, fang filled grin.

At the edge of the gore strewn fighting pit, two Nobs were trying desperately to heave a large augmented Ork up the steep sides. It seemed as if the initial explosions had damaged the fighting pit door mechanism trapping the Big Mech inside the ring.
A loud an inventive stream of foul language was issuing from the Big Mek’s gob as the sheer weight of his augmented form and massive shoota prevented him from scaling the walls of the pit and joining the rest of his boyz in the fight.
As they watched, one of the Nobs shinned up the wall and started ripping plates of metal from the areas edge with his power klaw to reduce the height of the obstacle.

“Keep these lot movin’ an leave leave this to me” said Skargrin as the rest peeled off an kept moving towards the target.

Keeping low as he approached Skargrin crept slowly up behind the industrious Nob. Drawing a vicious looking shard of blackened metal from his belt, he plunged it into the Nob’s lower back and twisted hard.
The Nob cried out and toppled into the pit, landing square on the Big Mek in a crumpled heap. A telltale whine barely left Skargrin time to jump back from the edge as the Big Meks Kustom Shoota turned the air he had just occupied into a deadly cloud of lead and lashing energy beams.

"Whoose dere?" "Get down ere an fight proper"
“Wen I gets out of dis Zoggin’ pit, I is gunna rip your zoggin head off and shove it down ur neck”

Skargrin hotfooted it up the slope after his boys as the frustrated cries of the Big Mek and his Nobs receded.


“K’mon Krumpa, you lazy git”, having an entire tribe of Deathskulls careering towards him was making even Gutslyca nervous and he was fast running out of ammo.

At the last moment explosive charges ripped through the ranks of the Deathskulls. Kommandos, led by Krumpa whirling his arms in wild delight, leapt from hidden positions on the flanks with a primal roar. The Deathskull attack soon broke down into a swirling melee in the twisting streets of the Ork settlement.

“Oi don’t kill ‘em all before I gets ‘dere” exclaimed Gutslyca. Setting aside his hot red hot shoota, he vaulted over the windowsill of the hovel and into the growing brawl...

This message was edited 4 times. Last update was at 2017/07/26 14:20:53


 
   
 
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