No.424143 [View All]
Hey /tg/,
Looking to present you with an idea that I want to chew on with you.
I had a few ideas for some custom guard armies and eventually it turned into an entire planet with three distinct armies populating the surface. This bloomed into a whole loregasm as I cant help but overthink things.
If you would, listen to the story of a planet with no grand history save to its inhabitants. A planet located close to the Cicatrix Maladict established as a hushed inquisitorial and administratum joint operation. This experimental Bait World knows only secret war in defense of the larger Imperium. This world is only know by is simple, yet apt, name.
Dis.
____________________________
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No.424221
>>424214
The events that took place after the arrival of the heretic fleet are subject to speculation, as no record exists save to stories passed down generation to generation among the guardsmen that inhabited that cursed planet. Though some semblance of actual fact can be attained.
The Heretic ship moved its orbit towards the polar region to the signal broadcast. These broadcasts were designed in such a way that the origin of the signal stemmed from either side of the planet. These signals would, in theory, position the enemy vessel withing prime range of the planetary defense lasers positioned in the same location. Any ship trying to sniff out the origin of the signal would then be treated to a barrage of lazer fire upon reaching its destination. The reason for the placement was to maximize enemy personnel casualties that might have managed to survive by subjecting the to the extremes of the glacier or the fields of glass, respectively. The enemy ship would be blasted from orbit, fall to the planet under gravity, and then crash into the deadly opposing ends of Dis. In theory, if any enemy soldier made it through the dead zones to a more habitable area, the garrison placed on Dis would have no issue dealing with them. A three fold trap for the enemies of man. This, though, was only under perfect conditions. War, as it were, was never perfect in it weaving of scinarios.
Upon approaching the polar regions, the defences laser fired, ripping through the ship sending it careening towards the frozen waste. What was not counted on was the helmsman of that heretical ship igniting the thrusters at the last moment. Allowing the vessel to crash well within the harsh habitable zone of the mountains that bordered the glacier. Though it is surmised that many aboard the ship had perished in both orbit a d upon crashing, that did not change the fact of what happened next.
From the ship, some 89,000 of its crew and troops had survived. These soldiers almost immediately began a mass movement towards the more hospitable climate of the green ring. Ths was all under the leadership of one of the Traitorous Legion. A Chaos addled space marine thundering his commands across the marching lines as his vile cult like soldiers moved onward. It was unknown whom this traitor served, it has never been written, nor will it ever. Strangely the guardsman of Dis only refer to him using the nickname given to him all those many centuries ago.
The Stick.
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No.424222
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No.424223
>>424222
Very well constructed.
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No.424250
>>424221
The great horde moved its way through the mountain range making it's way carefully up its slopes. At the front of the gaggle was the Stick. Coverd head to toe in power armor did much in the way of blocking out the freezing winds of the mountain passes. But what of the guardsman you ask? Why were they not rising to the occasion and slaughtering the vile host? The answer is simple.
Cowardice.
The guardsman forces were not made of the strongest stuff. Upon seeing the hulking ship fall and then subsequently a mass of troops led by essentially a demon, they fell to their base emotions and ran hiding in the makeshift bunkers and home they had scrapped together. This did not save them.
The unholy mob, upon finding any outpost in their way, committed to wholesale slaughter. Men and women all fell to the bolt and the bayonet as price for their cowerdice. This was no different when the chaotic host arrived in the green rim or when scouting forces entered the blazing desert in search for the treasure they had lost their ship for. All guardsman ran and hid. The evil host seemed unstoppable.
This is known amongst the guardsman of Dis today as the Black March. It is still and will always be the great stain on their armies. The March, in total, lasted for one and one half year. During that time thousands of loyal guardsman lost their lives to both the repercussions of their own inaction as well as the harsh climes of Dis. The only reprieve given to the gravediggers was that Dis was indifferent to whom she sent her plagues. The Black March suffered incredibly under the strain of life on the hungry world killing many of The Sticks forces leading him to his ultimate decision.
After a year and a half of marching and suffering all the while finding no glorious treasure, the Stick had had enough. His mission now was genocide. He would pay back the guardsman for luring him into death by slaughtering the whole planet. He began in earnest. In a single week guard post after guard post were wiped of of the planet, homes were raised, many more lost their lives to the furious devil. All hope seemed lost.
Enter, Commissar Jacob Simple.
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No.424260
>>424222
5/5 breddy gud. Is that an Armiger or regular knight?
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No.424280
>>424250
Commisar Jacob Simple was a hardy and well trained man of 37. His eyes were blue, his hair white as a star. He was a military man on all manner, save for the one flaw that eventually doomed him to this planet. He questioned everything.
While he was in every way a Commissar, he was known to have a penchant for disregarding higher command. Though the men under his command loved as and respected him, as was earned by their low mortality rate, the officers above him loathed and disposed him. On many occasions Simple had outright called his command team stupid only to do things his way with greater success. He was a practical man, not want to the grand standing of officers seeking only to make their name known in order to better their position. He was about his men. When the time came for the list of candidates to pe sussed out, many an officer were quick to pin his name on the list. Thus he was selected.
He was not pleased with the state of the soldiers he would be commanding whilst on the trip to Dis. Many a time he tried to instill right action befitting a guardsman into the men under his command, only to be shot down by lazy sergeants and even lazier Officers. The Commisar eventually stopped trying and devoted himself instead to finding those individuals whom showed promise, or at the very least some initiative. Upon landing on the surface, the commissar did something, that while welcome, was completely unsuspected.
He left.
With a hand full of selected sergeants and officers, 18 in total, he just...left. many of the command staff of Dis were shocked at the event, though were happy to see the warhorse leave. The commisar did not leave without purpose, for his last words to high command before departure, in his thick low born accent, gave insight to his goal.
"I'm goin' tuh take a gander. See what's what." And at that he left. With his cadre of troops he ventured forth into the unforgiving lands that were Dis with only a single goal in mind. Learn. And with that all records of visual or vox contact with himself and his team go blank. They do not exist because they did not contact higher. This silence lasted for the entire duration of the occupation of Dis. It was presumed the swamp, or desert, or ice claimed their lives, never to be seen again. Just another number on the growing death list of Dis.
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No.424281
>>424280
At the height of the Black Marches slaughter as they made their way across the planet, a small group of eighteen man and a commisar arrived at central command. They were ragged, hardened men. The planet had not been kind to them as their equipment bore the striking marks of continual use and damage. Some of their equipment were missing altogether and replaced by makeshift tools coverd in grime and grit from extended use. Not only the state of their equipment caught the eye of the commanding general, but their appearance as well.
Of the eighteen men three distinct patterns of dress emerged.
The six on the right wore smegags and their clothing were fitted loosely around their bodies. These six also had modified their lazguns in strange fashion, more resembling walking sticks than rifles. Their faces were tan and their eyes cracked from over exposure to sunlight. Large skins of water rested on their back diagonally and their feet were not laced in boots, but rather, sandals. (Note: Best depiction would be that of Afghan Mujahideen with Jezail rifles)
The six on the left seemed to be the polar opposite from the right. Across their armor they were heavily insulated jackets of brown lined in wool stretching down to their ankles. Upon their heads were strange looking hats that covered their ears which was also lined with wool. Their lazguns were mostly unmodified save for lengthened barrels with magnified optics resting atop the reciever rail. On their back, among the scant few supplies that were apparent, were a set climbing cleats used for scaling mountains. Third faces were also tan and their eyes seemed to automatically squint as if trying to focus on something very far away. ( Note: Best depiction would be of Tibetan mountain climbers)
The middle group wa by far the most unnerving. Their clothing resembled a sealed cloth chemical suit used for gas attacks. Every opening had been taped shut from their gloves to their boots. Upon their heads were stahlhelms wrapped in netting with various plant parts fitted neatly within the webbing. Their faces were coverd in what looked like gas masks at first glance. Upon tracing the tube connecting to the erie masks one would find it was connected not to a chemical breather, but to a small oxygen tank. These men smelled of the swamp and caused the commanding general to pinch his nose. They were motionless, holding their shotguns and flamers at the low ready, further increasing the command staffs unease. They were terrifying. It was as if they were unmoving monsters waiting for anyone in the room to make a wrong move before plunging there proudly worn combat knives into the neck of their victim without mercy.
At the front was the Commisar. He was dressed in his finest uniform and recently shaven. He was a military man, and just because their was a genocide going on around the planet, this did not change his need to be presentable before his betters. It was regulation. It was tradition. He strode forward to the general, with his worried eyes peering at the imposing commisar before him. Jacob Simple saluted, and then spoke.
"Ah learned alot, sir. Now imma teach you. Dont fret, sir. We gon show em how it's done."
(Note: for reference Commisar Jacob Simple looks and talks like Stephen Lang from Avatar in my head)
> Any thoughts?
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No.424286
>>424281
>I hope you folks are enjoying this. Will post more tomorrow. Feedback is always welcome as is attacks on my faggotry.
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No.424319
>>424286
while i like the idea off the planet but even the most throw away planet in the imperium would have a civi pup and they would serve two purpose: 1 man the factories and farms 2 supplie the guard with fresh blood
and the different regiments sound like feral/death world'ers and even those have a ``civi´´ pup as the saying goes hard lifes makes hard men
also for mega funa to live there would need to be a higher then avarege O2 in the atmo but considering that only the equator has the plant life to produce than the O2 levels would likely be a tad lower then what we have now depending on the planet size of course
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No.424334
>>424319
I was thinking about that. I may keep it to where the civilian population are kept to a minimum and housed underground near the scarce munitorum factories. As for the mega fauna....space magic?
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No.424335
>>424281
For the next six months the Black March continued its genocide of any and all they would confront. During this time it would have been noticed by the chaotic host that the intervals between encounters became longer and longer. At first it would seem that the Marchers would come across a guard outpost once ever week. Over time it would lengthen to three weeks, then a month, and so on and so on until eventually the host, along with The Stick, believed they had successfully cleared the planet of all imperial trace. Upon this discovery the massive hoard began consolidating its forces spread across the globe back to the edge of the glacial mountains. The reason for this is unknown but speculation leads one to believe that it may have been an attempt at salvaging some form of long range communications device from the wrecked cruiser. After all of the remaining forces had mustered along the green rims shadow border, which took approximately another year, the black host began its track back to the destroyed vessel. Still no guardsmen were detected by the traitor forces.
Until they reached the mountains.
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No.424362
>>424319
>>424334
hi OP im back to poke more holes
by the planet no rotating im gussing you mean the planet is tidal locked, this would mean there is no day/night cycle, in turn the icey wastelands would never see daylight and any light they would have would be man made unless he planet has a moon to reflect sunlight,
so no way for those guys to get a tan around the eyes also they wound need to be expert night figters
also how have they rebuild thire guns and scopes out in the wastelands if they had no support from anyone and no tools or materiel?
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No.424382
Brief me on the local flora and fauna. What was the thing you were saying about the planets' palustrine prokaryotes?
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No.424393
>>424362
Holy shit you are right. The snow fighters wouldn't have s tan. A fuck up on my part.
The weapons were maintained and upgraded through theft. The 18 men were required by the commisar to make do at any means. Theft was encouraged, as well as the unfortunate task of looting dead guardsmen as the Black March made its movement.
As for flora and fauna, I haven't really given it much thought. I just wanted a super deadly turtle that eats people on the planet. Mostly because I want it as a set up for later in the story. If you have any ideas I'd be happy to hear them.
Feel free to poke holes. I welcome it. It makes me think.
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No.424402
>>424393
that still does not explain how they build a effectively whole new pattens of lasguns, and still any equipment would have to be already there for them to loot it.
on a whole other level the planet would need for regular shipments of raw material how ever for the planet to be truely ``off the grit´´ it would need to be self sufficient how ever lasgun lenses need a special crystal that is simi rare in the imperium so any planet found to have them would be strip-mined for said crystals.
also any enemy who is not an ork would be rather incompetent to fall for such a obvious trap broadcasting un-incrypted radio transmissions as such no real threat would likely try to land on the planet as its also reater easy to see from space that the planet is very sparsely populated.
over all if feels abit like you are trying to cram to much on to one planet
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No.424412
I do like the idea of a bait planet, although i do have some complaints, but do hear me out:
>What can each enemy of the Imperium benefit from coming to Dis, with just info on it?
The Tau look only to expand their rule, the Orks are looking for a good fight, Tyranids just want to eat anything, Necrons an Aeldar do not have any hertital use of the planet and the forces of Chaos might be interested if only ot fuck around with the Imperium. Not to mention most of these guys would be alright with the weather conditions (eg The Necrons don't get sick/cold/hot). You should think out a good bait for them, to give them a reason to land on a seemingly barren planet with the knowingly weakest forces of us humans. Which brings me to the next point:
>Without Law and control, there is only Chaos
With the Gravediggers being a 100% Guardsman based unit, this leaves them open to Chaos worshiping or Genestealer infiltration. You need someone who will, at least subtly, control the populace so they not fuck up the plan. Mayhaps a small unit of Inquisitors and/or Space Marines in the know of the true purpose of Dis, but instructed to act only if the plan is in danger?
>What prevents the enemy forces of just sending a warning/distress signal once they reach planetfall?
Be it technological or astrotelepathical, you need a way to prevent the enemy of informing everyone that Dis is a trap. I'd recommend something like a one way comblock: Allow them to scour info from orbit to bait them further, and once they reach the surface, prevent them and their messages from leaving the planets surface.
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No.424434
>>424402
I very well might be trying to fit too much in. Overextending a bit. Let me see if I can mental gymnastics your concerns and then tell me if it still doesn't hold water. Good feedback btw, thanks.
Concerning the different pattern lazguns:
The Gravediggers of Dis were to be organized as a combined arms army. This includes but not limited to, infantry companies, scout companies, mortar platoons, sniper attachments, tank companies, artillery companies, etc. This would ensure that for whatever situation the Gravediggers would have a solution, pending good leadership. While the initial plan was to heavily equip the Gravediggers, it was the Administratum that put the kibosh on that. Bureaucracy saw to it that the Gravediggers WOULD get the required vehicles in order to create a combined armed army, but at the lowest count possible. This meant that light infantry was the most predominant job amongst the guardsmen, but this did not mean that they had no special pattern lazguns, or even vehicles at that. So then becomes the question of why they didn't use them. The overarching concept is that they were all shitbags. They sucked at their jobs and thusly gont shit on by the chaos force. This plays into the semi redemption arc of the gravediggers. This is why the big bad traitor astartes is called the Stick. It was a nickname given to him by the Gravediggers because as the old saying goes: Sometimes the carrot doesn't work, sometimes you need the stick to be better. I can see the issues you have with the equipment. If I had explained it better at the beginning it might have made more sense. Mostly I was writing because I didn't think anyone was reading. Good to know I was wrong.
Concerning the maintaining of equipment: I feel like that was kind of the point. It is supposed to be a hushed operation with very little chance of success, at least in the Administratums eyes. I said it was a joint operation between the Inquisition and Administratum, but really the Administratum is just humoring the Inquisitor Cortney Black. Why? Maybe he has friends in high places? Either way, the administratum loses little if the worst of the Astra Militarum dies and a relatively small quantity of equipment is lost. Maybe there was an agreement between Courtney Black and the Administratum that if the experiment was successful, then the Administratum would take them seriously.
What to you think? Too shit?
And sorry if I sound self deprecating. I really do want to improve.
As for the lure, the only thought I have on that is that maybe the Bait is worded in such a way that sparse defences would be reasonable. For Chaos, some BS about an ancient artifact or some shit. And then also subsequent other such lures for other races. Maybe even the positioning of the planet seems advantageous in some way. I haven't given it much thought. Any Ideas?
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No.424452
>>424412
Ok let's do some thinking.
>Bait for the Bait God
Tau: Two options, 1) Distress signal. A tau craft has crashed on Dis and is in need of assistance 2) possibly heretical, send a message that the local population wishes to join the Tau Empire. State that the world is of use to the greater good.
Chaos: Send a transmission that us just encrypted enough to not raise suspicion that states there is a macguffin of chaos that the Imperium is trying to keep secret. Or better yet, the Imperium is close to discovering a way to bring the Emperors fractured psyches back from the warp. If that doesn't peak an interest, I dont know what will.
Tyranids: not really sure on this one, but I like the idea another anon had of having dormant Nids lying below the glacier. Could be cool for future stories.
Necrons: Same as Chaos except lie about a dormant C'tan shard of the nightbringer.
Eldar: State that Dis is an imperial prison housing soul stones. Or just not care about the eldar
Dark Eldar: Just wait, they will show up eventually.
Orks: Shoot a missle at the nearest Ork world with a star map and a single message that says "U wot mate?"
I'm joking on some of those, you have any ideas I'm more than happy to hear.
>Chaos and you. Knowing the signs...
The mass slaughter of the Gravediggers during the Black March and then subsequent mass interrogation by the Inquisition after the cleansing of the planet left the people of Dis thoroughly hateful of the powers. They dispise chaos and seem to increase in vigor whenever fighting it. It's the one enemy the Gravediggers are proficient in killing as, aside from their hate, the location of the planet being so close to the Warp Scar causes Chaos to be a frequent enemy. They have a lot of practice. This does not mean that the eye of the Inquisition isn't always upon them. Being a secret ploy created by the Inquisition, they constantly watch their investment.
As for an astartes chapter on the planet. How about this. I dont like Astartes. But I'm not against them being on the planet. If you guys come up with a unique chapter I might throw them in. The chapter has to be Donut Steel though. And also within reason, no angry marines.
>Blocking outgoing messages
This is a good idea. I also had an idea that when an enemy force crashes on the planet, the transmissions going out cease as well so that the Gravediggers aren't taking on more than they can handle. And if two forces appear in orbit from different factions, let them battle it out amongst themselves then kill the survivors.
Any additions you wanna make?
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No.424503
>>424452
>No angry marines
But of course: Whilst they are entertaining, they wouldn't really fit into Dis' narrative. While what came to my mind were Astartes keeping an on-planetary watch of the populace, it does not have to be necessarily them doing the job alone: It could be a group of Imperial Adepti, ranging from Marines, through Battle Sisters to the even occasional Techpriest working together covertly.
Maybe call it the Night Watch?
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No.424552
>>424434
You See the problem with that is that combinede arms regiments are super rare due to the chaos threat so that if a regiment falls the empire Know how to best deal with them. The honor of being a combined arms force is only given to regiments that have proven they can and will resist the influenc of chaos 100% of the time.
So a force made from the dregs of the imperium would not get the rights to be a combied arms force however its not a problem for any infantry regiment to have a sniper attachment of like 1000 guys
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No.424562
>>424452
>>424503
Whatever chapter or company unlucky enough to be permanently assigned as bait has to be from the cursed founding.
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No.424575
>>424562
Storm Warden Successors.
Get Gaelic as can be.
Have them sent their to "safely" recuperate numbers in battle.
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No.424654
>>424452
If you really want some kind of astartes there you could be lazy and just Say that there is a deathwatch outpost near the planet and there you go
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No.424656
>>424654
Yes, but it wouldn't be /tg/ if we were lazy and not come up with something more interesting.
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No.424666
>>424656
What could fit in that sort of world anyway ?
The Australian Shitposters Marines ?
>Cursed founding Raven Guard successor
>looks simply tanned instead of chalked white but have shit for luck
>shitting on everyone is their idea of humor
>and they need to laugh a lot to cope with being stuck there
>since landing on Dis, have made hunting the swamps' giant reptiles their hobby
>perma-low on numbers
>gorilla warfare masters on all terrains
>they have to be since every vehicle that houses them starts malfunctioning exceptionally quickly and often
>including starships
>although neither the Inquisition nor the Admech had solid ground to brand them heretics, both tried to get rid of them in late M35 since they are a mechanic hazard
>++insert irrelevant suicide mission here++
>their transport ship only emerged in M41, in the Dis system, during the aftermath of the black march
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No.424669
>>424666
Nice trips, but when making something like this, avoid basing it on a meme/something that already exists. There already exists the Shit out of luck chapter (The Lamenters). i do agree that one of the primary characteristics of this chapter should be their lack of luck, but it is disputable if they should be based heavily on a culture/nationality.
Although an idea popped into my head now; If they were sent to Dis to regain their numbers, wouldn't they be taking it from the local populace? Dear God, a Chapter with an especially burning hatred for Chaos, but with the balls of a neutered cat and pack tactics...
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No.424674
>>424669
>There already exists the Shit out of luck chapter (The Lamenters).
It's not just the Lamenters, all the chapters from the 21st founding are infamous for their shit luck. They happen to be the better guys among them.
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No.424678
>>424666
Well satan, here's a twist on the bad luck, relentless true superstitions. By confluence of chaotic winds Zuvvassin is especially powerful in the blood of these Ozwalds. All the rituals of the admech are necessary, even the spurious dick slapping on buttons and motor oil incense. The numerous superstitions of Dis as well are true to them, recorded in the Tome of Roland's Folly which is several volumes long as of M.41.
As such they are 100% codex compliant, even to their detriment. Several battles were lost to their rigidness, but every captain that has ever tried to explore possibilities outside of its pages have died so horribly that their geneseed was unrecoverable.
I've tried four times to get an image of Zuuvassin, and it refuses to download. This is some warpy shit here.
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No.424683
>>424669
> it is disputable if they should be based heavily on a culture/nationality.
Reading about this planet being is 1/3 desert, 1/3 swampland, 1/3 mega-Antarctica, and a dumping ground the the unwanted of the Imperial military simply brought the penal colony of Australia up my mind.
The relevant part is mostly about them becoming stranded there after the black march, the AdMech and Navy both want them out of their precious ships no matter what. And there's no mention of loyalist SM involvement during the The Stick Boogaloo, so I assume any marine in Dis had to have landed after the event.
Feel free to come up with a better name/doctrine/culture for the chronically depressed crocodile dundee Bantz Marines.
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No.424733
>>424335
You guys are the best. This is why I love /tg/. Actual critique instead of just vomiting shit. Tops. Ok here we go. Let's continue on with the rise of...
The Gravediggers of Dis.
----------------------------------------
With the year long reconsolidation of their damned forces, the great Black March prepared for it's long track from the green rim back over the mountains towards the hulking carcass that was their cruiser. Being located on the opposite side of the range, the Stick marshalled his troops for the long and arduous hike that lay before them. After some time the great host had made it's way to the beginning peaks of the mountains and subsequently began organizing themselves into great files as they weaved in and out of the various valleys in an attempt to expedite their trip. After three months in the winding passes, without any engagement from guardsman forces, the black march got its first taste of the Emperors vengeance.
No noise was heard, only the howling of the wind as a recent blizzard had swept through the narrow pass the vile host was occupying. Only a red flicker was seen piercing through the darkness. Amongst the damned, a body fell. From here we turn to the diary entry of a one Sgt. Thomas Brook, provided to us by his decendant, entitled "Mountain King". The accounting is as follows.
"Davis had fired the first shot as the sons of bitches pridefully walked through the mountains. OUR mountains. With all of the training that crazy eyed commander beat into us, only we had the right to stalk these peaks. And we were going to be damed if these raping, murdering bastards even dreamed of treading OUR snow unscathed.
After the first shot the baffled cretins looked around slack jawed as if they had never seen a lasbeam before. I'm pretty sure the dumb idiots thought one of their own had done the deed. We took advantage of their stupification ad unleashed a torrent of fire. Their putrid bodies began falling one by one.
We had taken position as high up the mountain side as the blizzard would allow for semi visible range. All that target practice the months before our engagement really got our natural night vision acclimated the the darkness of the mountains. Any blurry black dot moving below the mountain was a target, and the environment was rich with those. I'm pretty sure I heard from the wailing horde someone scream out THEY HAVE LASCANNONS. With the amount of fire we were putting out I guess it would seem like it.
Well pay them back. Those murdering pricks. These our our mountains."
For the next month these high altitude skirmishes continued. Cleverly, the forward advancement of the Black March towards its downed cruser was halted by strategic avalanches caused by placing small explosive charges in key positions along the mountain sides. Not only did this succeed in killing vast quantities of enemy troops, but it also served to force movement of the horde back into the mid rim of the planet. Every time the chaos horde would seek to advance up the mountain to root out their attackers, they would climb and seemingly vanish into thin air. After two months of prolonged fighting, the Black March retreated into the Green Rim, both to stem the loss of men, and to attempt to resupply on rations. It is assumed that The Stick, made this decision to allow for better reconnaissance of mountain passes in the future to avoid the Mountain Raiders and keep his death toll at a minimum, though this is mere speculation. Either way, the mountains were closed to them. Little did they know the horror that lay in wait in the marshes and swamps of the green rim. For there, in the water, lay an enemy that, according to data sheets found upon a chaos captain's bloated corps, filled his men with great fear. Fear to the point of suicide. The name he had given them, and the name that to this day is given to the elites of the unit that inhabit the green rim of Dis, was both simple and childlike in its creation. Yet at its utterance, paranoia would run rampant amongst the ranks of the dark horde causing disorganization and a total loss of moral. The name given was...
The Mud-Men.
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No.424799
>>424733
As previously stated, all information regarding the encounters had with the Black March as they retreated into the rainy and swamp riddled Green Rim can only be divined from the scattered accounts of members belonging to the horde itself. Due to the reclusive nature of the guardsman occupying that dimly lit green hell this unfortunately is the only solid account that can be obtained. The following is the account of an individual who, due to inquisitorial foresight, will not be named as his choice to abandon our Emporer gives him no right to be recognized. Even in death.
" Thirty fucking days in this boot sinking, shit hole. I swear to the powers, as soon as we get picked up, I'm going to demand this planet be vaporized into oblivion. Fuck it, if they dont, I'll just gut them and do it my damned self. We are going on a patrol tonight(today?) Big guys orders. He wants us to clear a more suitable assembly area for the horde. Like that will make a difference. The best we can manage is separating into small squads in defensive positions on top of the small heaps of dirt that rise just so above the black waters surface. Any movement through this muck is slow as we all have to slog through the water to assist any squad that comes under attack. Not that that will happen. Pretty sure this part of the planet is dead, guardsman wise. Fuck he is screaming again. To the patrol.
-----------
Nurgles pox ridden dick! I made it back! Everyone is dead. I just gave a brief to the big guy on what happened. I'm pretty sure he wanted to rip my head off, but he is running out of commanders so I think he took the smart route and kept me around. Damn I'm lucky.
The patrol was a bloodbath. No, no..that's not right. More like death by a thousand cuts. We began the patrol in a long file. In an attempt to prevent any further casualties our master orders us to move out with a 100 men. His rational was that anyone seeing such a large movement would most definitively think twice about challenging us. But he was wrong. Khorns blood, he was wrong. After marching for hours we had reached our limit of advance and began the duty of setting up 360 security. All of the men began moving to their assigned positions , but upon further inspection I found something to be wrong. We did not HAVE all of the men! After a count from my first sergeant our total number was 46. FOURTY SIX! In a span of approximately five hours, not only had we lost more than half of our forces, but the whereabouts of the bastards what killed them were unknown. No shots were fired, no screams of help, nothing! And worse yet, no one noticed them missing. For five hours those animals must have picked away at our rear line diminishing our numbers.
Thinking quickly I ordered 100% security for the duration of our halt. A plan would need to be made and we would need to get back to the main body as quickly as possible. We sat in silence for two more hours. My first sergeant finally broke the tension requesting that we move. He was right, we had overstayed our welcome. On top of that, whomever was pi king us off would no longer have our ignorance as an ally. We were ready.
We were not ready."
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No.424800
>>424799
"We began slowly making the trek back to the safety of the main body. Small bioluminescent insects darted back and forth along the waters surface as we marched, tiny island to tiny island. Our equipment was soaked, making the march all the more arduous. That along with the rash I have developed from walking through this fucking muck didn't make things any better. We had made slow but good progress, until one of the men started laughing. Calling a short halt the first sergeant went to see what was so funny. The soldier in question was pointing at the bobbing arm of one of our comrades floating near the waters edge.
"Bastard nevah stood ah chance!" The soldier belched out with another laugh. The first sergeant then went to go retrieve the arm to, in my summation, see if it was attached to anything else that might have a few extra Las packs on it. His greed would be his undoing. No sooner had he grabbed the arm did a spring loaded jaw trap latch upon his arm. He screamed out in pain and fell to his ass madly kicking and tugging at his caught appendage. This was all for naught, as the thing was firmly staked in the mud. What happened next took all of us by surprise.
A gigantic shelled reptile, with jaws like a voice sprang from the water and took hold of the upper half of the sergeant. Like lightning the attack came leaving only the twitching lower half of my NCO. The arm still caught in the trap. It was over in an instant, but that was not the end of our troubles. For no sooner had the reptile attacked than we were pelted by fragmentation grenades. Explosions ripped through the line sending meat and blood raining from the canopy.
We ran.
Me, accompanied by the last remaining six soldiers of our patrol, sprinted and fumbled through the marshes. Wer ran until our legs burned and our breath were overtaxed. We halted in a small clearing of knee deep water surrounded on all sides by thick vegetation to cat h our breath. The swamp was quiet again as I ordered my men to face the direction we had just come from in preparation for enemies giving chase. That's when they came.
From the water. From the cursed mud and filth they rose. They were slow. They stood on two feet, spreading their hateful arms as if some monster hungering after its unsuspecting prey. The rose behind each of my men, and all I could do was stand there in fear. In their hands were some knives and others rope. The ones with rope wrapped it around my mens necks and quickly dragged them under the water. I can still see their flailing arms splashing about the water ad their mates above the mirk were cleanly stabbed in their vitals. They were calm and practiced, or at least I think so, as their heads were covered in a vicious mask that gave no indication of being human much less showing emotion. They left one of my boys alive and screaming as the others left their targets and smoothly moved to the remaining man. Then they all looked at me. Slowly. Hatred poured from their gazes.
I began to cry.
Five of the mud-men turned and faded into the growing mist of the swamp until they were no longer visible, all the while my man screamed and flailed upon the water. The last remaining mud-man, his blank goggles still fixed on me, placed his index finger on his throat and made a slicing motion across it. Then slowly he pointed at me.
I began to whimper.
The thing then turned away from me and began to leave. As he passed my screaming man he grabbed his foot and began dragging him away. I couldn't move. I stayed there for what seemed like hours until the screaming faded and the noises of the swamp returned.
For a moment I thought of repentance to the corps god. I thought that maybe he would save me from this nightmare.
I ran. And now I am here. I must rest, the master has punished me with another patrol tomorrow(today/night?FUCK!) . I won't live long. I hope I dont. Not here"
End of entry.
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No.424963
Sorry for the infrequent posts. Lot of stuff going on. Feel free to keep critiquing. Had a thought for astartes, or at least a name to play around with.
The Judges
Chapter Master: Virgil (insert last name)
Any ideas?
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No.424992
What's the best Necron build for fighting 'nids? (Using 8e)
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No.425002
>>424393
> I just wanted a super deadly turtle that eats people on the planet.
Good taste. Always found snappers way more intimidating than gators and crocs. Make sure not to give it teeth and instead have it cut an crush pray with razor edged mouth-plates/beak and incredible bite force like IRL snapper turtles do or how Dunklasteus did.
Other suggestions would be alligator-gar like fishes, swamp moray eels, a symbiotic group of carnivorous flowers and wasps with the later driving victims towards the earlier that would kill them with poisonous spores and the fantasy staple strangler vines. Avoid piranha-like fishes, it's too cliched.
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No.425003
>>424393
>>425002
Also give some research to Devonian and Carboniferous fauna and flora for ideas. Swamp and shallow water environments were much more diverse and "experimental" back then.
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No.425044
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No.425047
>>424963
You cannot have a chapter called The Judges, and not name their Chapter Master Goodman, Silver or McGruder. But. lets brainstorm
>What is their quest?
I think we all liked the idea of them being sent here to to regain their numbers - Now, what did they so greatly fuck up , if they fucked up, to be sent to a Death/Bait planet? Maybe they found out something they shouldln't have, our being part of a cursed founding, they were accidentally positioned in Dis, and due to the planet's communications block, they can't ask for an extraction. and similarly to their guardsmen friends, are stuck on the planet doing what they can. Maybe this can lead to a uncommon positive relationship and cooporation between them?
>Know the signs
What are the chapters symbols and coloration? Should it wary between regions, or should it be a general one with small addons for the region? Is there a defining trait for the chapter?
>How do they view their position on Dis?
Is it a punishment for some wrongdoing? A blessing in disguise? Or even a way to test their strength?
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No.425362
>>425047
I like how you think.
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No.425419
>>425362
Thanks. I try my best when creating stuff like this, since it is one f the things /tg/ is known for.
Anyways, The Judges - Let's start with the sketch? If I make some deep fluff mistake, do correct me
>The Judges were a name rarely spoken in the covens of The Imperium of Man: Not for the typical reasons, for these Astartes were not traitors, they did not have any debilitating mutations to be kept in secret, they weren't a covert chapter, nor they did they excel in any battle - They were of course, rumors of them belonging to the cursed 21st founding, which curse showed itself in the chapter never finding glory or acknowledgement, forever present in a boring limbo of existence.
>But fate, and maybe the force behind it, acts in strange ways: The Judges were nearly annihilated in the defense of their Fortress Monastery, forced to shamefully evacuate with what relics they could muster. The few numbers that survived, including their Chapter Master Vir'gill Sudiya, were in need of regaining the numbers.
<A single letter, it was all it took. Who did it? Oh I couldn't tell you: Maybe it was fate, or the thing behind it. It could've been even a mistype, or a wrongly interpreted message. Whatever the reason was, or the force behind it, the Judges weren't heading anymore to Fis, a Hive World recently chosen as a possible ground for Astartes recruits, but for the Lure World of Dis, to have them truly forgotten... or to finally find their place among the stars.
>The arrival was confusing: There were no cities full of potential aspirants: There was only the Murky Swamps of Dis, surrounding the landing zone of The Judges. There were attempts to contact someone, anyone who could explain the situation or aid them.
>None answered
>As time passed, the marines started slowly losing their will and motivation, Vir'gill himself growing more quiet and reserved, sinking more into his thoughts.
>One night, the sky lit up. The marines watched as ships entered the atmosphere, their hopes dwindling even more as they recognized the heretical patterns. In that moment of darkness, Vir'gill finally spoke:
>Brothers. I will not lie to you about our situation. We were left on this accursed planet on our own, with no way to contact anyone who might take us off planet. dome of us saw this as a curse, others as a punishment for an unkown error. But Brothers, I do not think it so - we are the Emperor's Children, his finest warriors, defenders of humanity and protectors of humankind. This, Brothers, is not a punishment, but a chance to prove ourselves to us and to the Emperor that we can endure and thrive in the worst of conditions. My Judges, we will not wait for our salvation - FOR WE SHALL CREATE OUR OWN!
>The earth shook that night with the sound of marching soldiers, filled with purpose and headed to their first of many battles, and their encounter with the planets Gravediggers.
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No.425451
>>425419
Reading intently.
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No.425455
You fags made me stay up another hour when I have shit to do in the morning. I'm going to come back in a day or so and there had better be more writefagging, or you're all getting the BLAM.
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No.425461
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No.425473
>>424222
look at my child once more
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No.425578
>>424151
>the setting for the Promethean Sun novella
simpsons did it
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No.425767
Holy shit! It survived.
I will continue the idea. gotta find my notes.
Standby folks.
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No.425771
>>425767
Excellent. I wanted this to return. Please, keep going, OP.
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No.425777
>>425461
>goblin
Whats that?
Some kind of grott?
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No.425778
YouTube embed. Click thumbnail to play.
What do you fags think about this?
It all looks pretty cool except for the 40kiddies, they completely clash with the actually cool and 40klike animations.
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No.425785
>>424143
Ive been wanting to do a kabal themed guard army with the same color scheme as my Eldar
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