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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 2)

25/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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“Where’s that bloody tech marine?”

Dick had had to enlist three other Ultramarines to help him give a chair-lift to Marneus Calgar. The fat, complaining Chapter Master had point-blank refused to strip out of his armour for the journey. He was paranoid about “That new girl seeing my nipples”.

They’d worked up a fine sweat by the time they reached the transport bay. Unfortunately the bay, which was more of a circular, open-air arena which perpetually stank of promethium, was almost empty. The floor of the bay was streaked with black stains. Above them, the winter sky was a brooding presence.

“He’s uninstalling Firefox from all our computer systems, sir, and loading Opera in their place.”

“Why in the name of Bob Hoskins did I ask him to do that?”

“You need to work harder on those memory tests, sir. The Inquisition declared Firefox to be more bloated than Nurgle’s colon and you were sick of having your computer freeze for five minutes every time you started Firefox up. Said the waiting made your bollocks retract into your hips.”

“Tech-Priest Nerdingham is the laziest, most unmotivated slob in the region,” said Calgar without irony. “The first time he ever does anything I ask him to is the day my kidney goes kamikaze. He was supposed to be working on the Rhinos today!”

“You put the fear of Guilliman into him, my Lord, by threatening him thus: ‘I don’t give a flying feth about the tanks, mate, you either install Opera or spend five minutes in the nerve glove, pain level ‘watching the European intro to Gran Turismo 5.'”

“That’s quite a good impression of me,” Calgar said, not sure whether to be impressed or go into one of his tantrums. “You even pronounced our Primarch’s name correctly. Hardly anybody does that.”

(Unfortunately, dear reader, even I don’t know how to pronounce that name, and I’ve been taking it in vein for more than a decade!)

There was a familiar buzzing crack; not of the lord Calgar’s flatulence for a delightful change, but an incoming lasgun shot.

“Look out, sir!” Dick yelled, almost flipping the Chapter Master out of their grasp as he tumbled the group of Ultramarines sideways.

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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 1)

23/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone

A Warhammer 40,000 parody by NoPoet

Synopsis: Gasp and vomit your way through this insulting, lavatory-humour farce in which the Lord Calgar, whom my Windows Surface tablet thinks should be called “Marines Calgary”, is menaced by a nasty kidney stone… oh, and an invasion of Nurgle. All Calgar wanted to do was use the toilet…

The Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army Official Anthem

With special thanks to the track author, Dummy, and OC ReMix

==||==

Calgar’s Kidney Stone

-or-

Calgar’s Discomfitting Kidney Mishap

-or-

Marneus Calgar: A Profane, Blasphemous and Intelligence-Insulting Anecdote of One Man’s Unfortunate Circumstance

==||==

PART ONE – THE MADNESS BEGINS… AGAIN

Welcome to Macragge, home to the most pious Imperial servants: an entire Chapter of devout warrior-monks, heroic noblemen whose lives are constantly on the line so trillions of robe-wearing minions can scribe things that someone else chucks in the bin. Macragge is a rocky and cold world, a place where dwell men of legend… and their glorious leader, Marneus Calgar.

“OW!” roared Lord Calgar from his uncompromising squat on the Crapper of Macragge. “My fething piles are playing up. They’re throbbing like alien brains in a B-movie.”

“Then stop sitting down with a thump, sir!” Dick called from outside the door. “Remember what the apothecary said: don’t provoke the piles!

“I’ll provoke the little bastards when I pop them with a power sword and cauterise them with a hand flamer! Even if it itches like a fething bitch, it will be a blessed relief compared to this! I feel like I stuck my arse in a nerve glove set to ‘exterminatus’. Or maybe ‘exterminanus’.”

“My Lord?”

“It was bawdy lavatory humour, Bannerman. You can feel free to laugh.”

“Oh,” Dick said. “Ha. Ha.”

“Nobody ever gets my jokes,” said Marneus Calgar as the toilet strained beneath his podgy rolls. “You know something, Number Two? These aren’t just piles. They’re rancid visitations. Every time I try to push, I get a stabbing pain in my lower back.”

“You might be wiping too hard, sir,” Dick offered. “We can hear bog roll tearing and shuffling in there for twenty minutes every time you have a crap. It’s bound to play havoc with your ring region.”

“You may be right, Number Two,” Calgar conceded. “Oh, speaking of bog roll, some silly tosser used the last of my Andrex. Fetch us a couple of rolls, will you?”

“Which kind, my Lord?”

“Er… natural pebble, because their marketing executives called it that with a straight face. Fair play to them, their will is clearly stronger than mine. And tell the lads to stop pinching it, I’m supposed to be the only person who comes in here at stopping-off time.”

“You are the only person who goes in there, you big fat bog-roll wasting bell end,” Dick muttered as he headed for the pantry, where Calgar hid his Andrex.

“Oh, and Number Two?” Calgar said.

“You shouldn’t really use that nickname when you’re in there, sir,” Bannerman said, coming back. “I never actually know if it’s me you’re talking to.”

“I do apologise, Dick. I’m only the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, who am I to address my underlings in the manner of my choosing?”

“What is it, sir?” said Dick, wisely changing tack.

“Can you explain to me the function of Lyman’s ear?”

“Er, no, to be honest. Do you still want that toilet roll? Only, Milo and I are organising a Forza tournament -”

“The Lyman’s Ear, you great blasphemous tit, allows me to hear everything you say within a football field’s radius, even above the constant, squeaking, gaseous emanation of my ablutions. So the next time you accuse me of wasting toilet roll, get ready for the nerve glove, pain level ‘Listening to the theme tune of classic British sitcom Dear John through headphones, on constant repeat, for five hours, without alcohol or other anaesthetic’.”

“Anything but that!” Dick cried. “My apologies, Lord Calgar. I’ll attend to your toilet roll emergency at once.”

TOOT! replied the Lord Calgar’s arsehole. It echoed for some seconds, trapped between a clogged u-bend and Calgar’s fat, spotty backside.

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[40K] Rise of the Tau (part 1)

20/10/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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A Warhammer 40,000 epic by Revenant

Introduction

Time most distant, future’s zenith.
In tears, the star-sea mourns.
Isha’s children lament. All is lost to arrogance, grand designs soured by success, dreams are dust.
Shattered and done, the progeny set sail for the forever-beyond, flight borne on the tides of shame.
To dwindle and expire, forever denied.
The New Star burns too intense to douse, unchecked, untamed. Gods despair.
Tide surges, the end time is come.

Future’s path runs red as Khaine-blood, Hate-Winter rages, the portents scream their siren song. The song of Ulthanash is silent, Isha’s eye closed in slumber. Asuryan’s Shrine-light flickers and dies. The Cosmic Serpent reveals the truth and sheds his final skin. The Rebirth is denied. The Doom of Eldanesh comes to pass, the Red Moon rises.
The Rhana Dandra is come, let young and old cower before the chaos of the end.

The New Star will rise unprecedented, all the dread despoilers of the old kingdom quail beneath its fire.
Dead-King shivers on his maggot-throne as the Tide assails his walls, his kingdom lost.
Locust flees, no longer to plague creation-fields, feast denied.
Slave-puppets, once free, now lie in chains, conquered anew, rebellion’s essence bound in blood.
Long-Dead are exhumed, tombs razed. There shall be no flight, no peace in death. Their gods shall tremble.
Damned Shores become bastion as Dark Souls return. Exodus-flight before the rising swell. Denizens of Under-Kingdom cower behind its gates as the Tide surges.
Shame-Kin be damned in the bowels of the Webway, vermin scuttling in filth and terror, afraid of the ragescream storm above. Let them gather souls in shame and desperate haste, past sins quail as the All-Thirst is quenched. The brightest hope may lie amongst the darkest of shadow, the Learned Mongrel-Soul exhumed to see a destiny fulfilled.
Many Mighty Kings shall offer their swords to the Tide. None shall escape. None shall escape.

Skeins divided, hope defiant. Light and darkness heed, else collide and be damned. Fractured is as death, no other path leads to hope.
Existence-Tree be razed to its roots, bitter leaves cleansed. Then can hope’s light flicker. All forgotten to the core of creation. Then can hope’s flame catch the breeze.
Let the Lost Princes of the Young gather, shoulder to shoulder they alone may weather the Hate-Winter’s wrath.
Bright Hope’s flame still burns deep in the shadows of the Dead Land, too powerful to extinguish forever. Soul Beacon, the Horn of Kurnous will sound the call to war. They shall gather, let but some of their names be known.
The Revenant. The First-And-Ever Lords of War. The Lost Princes. The Wrathful Masters. The Reapers of Light. The Stolen Giant. The Prophet. The Last Avenger. The Entombed Ancient. The Oracle. The Blazing Rebel.
All these names and more shall stand ready as the Rhana Dandra dawns and the light of the Final Day casts her glow upon armour and weapon.

Maelstrom, life and death gather for war, old and young collide beneath the Red Moon. Origin revealed, too sour a taste to accept.
It matters not, what is, is.
Gods splintered reform in deed to counter the twilight. The children rise, menagerie gather in bitter winds of division’s death. Choice is murdered for all time, no longer sustainable in revealed irrelevance.
Diversity is power, the only power left unconsumed. Youth’s vigour an appetite insatiable above all else, desperation will rule the firmament. There can be no more old-thought. Every shadow will shift, writhe with hidden stirring. Life’s last breath must be deep.

Let them stand on the Final Shore as one, faces turned to the Tide. I have seen future’s zenith. I have seen crux and apex. Past, present and future united. Enmity is not survival. History rewritten at its very core, primeval puzzle complete.
One must tell the tale. Paths cannot be altered, only destinations revealed.
Unity. When the ash-wake clears, no more division, only Unity.
The Great Unity will prevail.

–Translation of ancient eldar tablet found on Cadia. Artefact thought to be the oldest example of eldar archaeology yet discovered.–

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[40K] The Peace of Extinction

14/09/2013 in Warhammer 40K

4.00 avg. rating (82% score) - 3 votes

A Warhammer 40,000 story by Lord of the Night

This story originally appeared on www.heresy-online.net. Reproduced here with the author’s permission.

Though the air was alive with the crackle of gunfire and the screams of the dying, it was only half of what it would have been had the men of the Imperium faced any other foe. Against the Orks the air would be filled with tribal chanting and guttural laughter; against the Eldar the sibilant whispering and cruel mockery of their lilting tongue would be like a dark sonata in their ears; against the vile Tyranids the chittering of a billion monsters would take on a life of its own. But today they faced a foe that was as silent as the graves they looked to have crawled out of. The Necrons had come to Parafic, their dark harvest cutting a swathe through the western edge of what had once been known as the Orphean Sector, a name now stricken from the endless records of the Administratum, and now was just another warzone where men went to die for the honour of the God-Emperor.

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[20K] Flight of the Fireblade

06/09/2013 in 20K

4.00 avg. rating (83% score) - 2 votes

A 20K story by NoPoet

In a universe so big no megaship could ever cross it, there was at least one galaxy where everyone needed to find the smallest place to hide.

Yuri Aksakov was squeezed into the cockpit of a fighter in a tunnel inside an asteroid. The tunnel had been bored by some unimaginable space-worm in aeons past. Luckily, it hadn’t left any spawn.

“I know you’re there,” the alien said across the vox. It was male, though with eldar, there wasn’t much to choose between the genders. “I can smell your soul, little rabbit.”

Yuri didn’t answer. He missed the cultural reference because he wasn’t from Earth.

The auspex showed nothing outside his hidey-hole but a chain of floating rocks. No sign of the eldar, or Yuri’s wingmen, if any had survived. No sign of the XMS Destiny.

“You can’t hide, human. I will claim you.”

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[20K] Revised 20K Timeline (updated April 2013)

17/03/2013 in 20K, Imp Lit News

5.00 avg. rating (97% score) - 3 votes


20K is the unofficial Warhammer 40,000 prequel series which I have been working on for a number of years. There are two “phases” to 20K and three “series” of stories.

PHASE ONE
The early stages of 20K, where humanity is emerging from its safe bases in Solar Segment and beginning to explore the galaxy, hoping to make contact with the fabled One Hundred Worlds. Human technology is limited and humanity begins to learn that alien races are generally hostile and untrustworthy.

PHASE TWO
A more confident and technically proficient

The following is a rough timeline including every 20K story that I am writing or plan to write. I have tried to remove as many spoilers as possible. Note that the timeline is subject to change and is undergoing constant revision.
This is “phase one” of 20K, a desperate time of derring-do. Phase 2, if I ever get that far, has a more mature and more adventurous tone with less of the grimness and grittiness of some of the earlier stories. Look for the crossovers and in-jokes as they appear. Fans of 40K as well as fans of general science fiction should find lots to be happy about.
Please ignore any repetitions or minor mistakes, this is the beta version and I already have the events right in my mind.
20K PHASE 1
40K’s mysterious and exciting history finally comes to life in tales of terror and adventure. Join the brave human pioneers of the Terran Empire as they begin their expansion into a galaxy where anything is possible.
KEY:
FRL = Fearless series
EW = Earthwatch series
SOL = Solstice series
Stories which do not have a series designation are independent stories (in TV parlance they would be “bottle shows”)
NOTE: Significant information is (deliberately) missing from the following timeline! Dates and events are subject to change.
===
20K Date Timeline
Pre-M21
Date Unknown – The Eldar race has become factionalised by hedonism and decadence. Illegal fighting contests and worship of the proscribed god Khaine slowly overtake the fabled city-state of Commoranth, the City of Souls.
Date Unknown – A Chinasian colony receives human visitors who claim to be from the future. These visitors, mighty warriors who say their home planet was destroyed in a cataclysmic war, lend their efforts to the colony’s Human Genhancement Project – with horrific results. (“Faithless”)-[NOTE: This story is currently in progress as of August 2013]
M21
975.M21 – Starships of the Alneran Republic, a hostile alien species whose territory lies within Solar Segment, encounter a mysterious alien being and take him prisoner. The strange hostage escapes when a Terran Navy ship attacks the Alnerans; the being will later turn up in Terran space, where his strange behaviour confounds his human rescuers. (“The Man Without A Past”)-[NOTE: This story is currently in progress as of March 2013]
978.M21 – XMS Southern Cross encounters R’Shan, a member of an unidentified alien species who has been conducting unknown warp experiments within Terran space. (“The Man From Nowhere”)
978.M21 – The Fireblade prototype fighter begins its initial tests, intended to replace the Saxon class fighter. While on combat manoeuvres, a squadron of Fireblades falls foul of a renegade Eldar space fighter. (“Flight of the Fireblade”)
985.M21 – The Centaur class light cruiser is commissioned, intended as a gradual replacement for the legendary Canyon class.
985.M21 – The Terran Empire discovers the first known Warp Gate within Solar Segment.
986.M21 – XMS Ontario and XMS Lexington are sent to investigate the Warp Gate. During the mission, a previously unknown problem with the Ontario’s Gellar Shield hurls the ship into a time-travelling, galaxy-spanning adventure, during which humanity makes first contact with followers of the daemon god Nurgle. (“Ghostwalkers”) [NOTE: This story is currently being revised as of March 2013]
986.M21 – An expedition team of the Pan-Pacific Treaty, a coalition of coporations and nation-states who wish to remain independent of the Terran Empire, discovers a world belonging to the long-vanished Chinasian Bloc. The world has long been abandoned, but the expedition discovers disturbing evidence that the colonists had been conducting genetic experiments influenced by men who claimed to have travelled from the distant future – a time of terrible civil war. (“Legacy of the Future”)
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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: A Christmas Calgar (2012 Xmas Special)

09/12/2012 in Warhammer 40K

5.00 avg. rating (98% score) - 4 votes

“Confound this fething thing,” grumbled the Master of Ultramar as he struggled to retain his dignity. “I shall have to get that bodge-jobber of a Tech Priest to look it it. For the wages I am paying him, I should prefer him to be looking at my armchair rather than Necron porn. MILO! Come hence and clean up this mess forthwith.”

It was then the reality of Milo’s death hit him.

“Bollocks, now I must employ another wretch to do the cleaning,” Calgar mused. “Servitors! Fetch me a new Tanith!”

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Banners Held High I – Recruit

05/12/2012 in Warhammer 40K

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BANNERS HELD HIGH I – RECRUIT

A Warhammer 40,000 story by RedPen1089

Over the smoke and the screams, atop even the mighty canyon pillars of the hive city’s incomprehensible heights, he could make out the banners.

The hab-lighting had been cut out or shot out.  From his crawlspace, under the largest single-iron lumin-pole, the dim figures clustering at the artery’s mouth was legion.  Beyond number.  Thousands upon thousands of figures, pressed together in a line two dozen men wide, and easily just as deep.  The Evernight of Mordian’s habitable half gave the milling figures presence.  Even at two kilometres, the roared commands and boot-thumps reached his frayed, dirty ears.

He couldn’t tell what time it was.  None of the decaying city-slum quarters had chronometers.  The buildings he sheltered beside weren’t full of the twinkle and glow of the Upper Echelons- they were dark, rust-ensnared shells of industries long dead, long decayed.  Faint cogs adorned the kilometre-high black-grey superstructures; the leavings of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

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[40K] FORGED IN FAITH: A story of the Imperial Hammers

05/12/2012 in Warhammer 40K

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“Arkus Prime was once a shining beacon of hope, in the dark endless void of space. It was a shrine world, and every inch was sacred and devoted to ‘Him on Earth.’ It was once one of the most sacred places one might ever make a pilgrimage to, apart from Holy Terra herself. As brightly as it once had shined,  it was now as equally desecrated. Blighted and fouled, Arkus Prime is now a charnel house. The world’s population down to the last man, woman and child, lay slaughtered in the defiled temples and chapels throughout the single continent of ArkusPrime…sacrificed in an orgy of death and blood in the name of Khorne.”
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[40K] Deal with the Daemon

11/09/2012 in Warhammer 40K

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Deal With the Daemon

A Warhammer 40,000 story by Maugan Ra

PROLOGUE

Warp light bloomed and the daemonic assessors of the Black Tontine stepped forth even as the sorcerer lay dying. They came because my actions have violated the Tontine, and their very presence drove needles into our minds. Shrine gates rattled and the Aquila wept molten tears.
– The journals of Inquisitor Lord Felroth Gelt

Samuel Krista staggered down the hallway, his steps unsteady and his mind clouded by the drink. Up until mere moments ago he had been fast asleep, but then had come the knocking. Loud and insistent, it had echoed throughout his tiny hab with enough volume to jolt his addled mind into wakefulness. He didn’t know who it was, but by the Emperor, they were going to receive such a beating for waking him like this!

“I’m coming, curse you!” He roared, spittle flying past yellowed and broken teeth, pausing to snatch up a heavy metal club from its rack by the door. He was an Overseer, damn it all, and you didn’t treat an overseer with such disrespect!

With a feral snarl, Krista wrenched open the door, raised the club above his head, and stopped dead. A cold weight settled in his stomach, and slowly he lowered his weapon, letting it drop to the ground with a clatter. Beads of a sweat formed on his brow, even though the air flowing in through the open door was achingly cold.

There were three of them, taller than any man he had ever met and clad in long black robes like morbid Administratum functionaries. All three of them stood a few paces from his door, their hands hidden inside the folds of their robes and their heads bowed. Licking his lips, Krista took a step backwards, thinking desperately of the window at the other end of the corridor. He could make it, he was sure, if he started running right now…

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