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I decided to start writing fluff for my regiment based on the only models I have currently bought. Enjoy!
The foul orks were getting a little too close for comfort, and Andy was growing more and more worried with each passing moment. He could see that his squad was getting nervous as well, their shots becoming increasingly wild and erratic.
"Oi, Marsh! Ye are holdin’ out alright?"
"Aye, just feelin' a bit cramped is all."
Andy blasted one of the savage beasts through the left eye, which did not always do the trick with orks, but blessedly this one went down. The loss of one more of their numbers simply spurned the rest into a frenzied charge. Thirty or so green monstrosities were bearing down on them and Andy was starting to contemplate the pros and cons of running away. Close combat was no place for a ratling.
"Scatter! The bastards are flankin' us!"
Andy's insides went cold as he turned to his squad's left flank. Orks were piling out of the woods, their crude camouflage effective enough in the dim light to have escaped the squad's notice. The others with him dropped their weapons and began to bolt back towards the main force of the regiment, screaming bloody murder as they ran. Andy prepared to join them, taking one last look over his shoulder to note the position of the swarm of boyz that had not stopped their charge.
A large, heavy boot was the last thing he saw before a great impact cracked his nose and sent him flying backward. He landed on the ground with a thump, blood streaming from his face as a dark shadow fell over him. Andy’s face felt hot as he shook the dizziness out of his eyes and looked up.
His heart seemed to stop as a flash of freezing cold swept over his entire body. He was looking into the eyes of a grinning savage, hefting an axe that looked to weigh about as much as Andy did. In his other hand was a crude bolter pistol, which the ork seemed to forget he was holding.
Time seemed to stand still as the monstrous ork raised his weapon for the killing blow. Andy could not move, the sheer terror he felt completely paralyzing every inch of his body. The look in the ork’s eyes was that of murderous glee, and Andy could not help but notice the dried blood that covered the beast’s weapon. A drop of spittle fell near his left hand as Andy stared in horror at the dull blade that was descending towards him. He was going to die.
The ork, far too intent on savoring the easy kill before him, failed to notice the great shadow cast over him and his pray. The shadow’s origin laid in the presence of the hulking figure that moved up from behind, its great mass blocking the light of the setting sun. With an impossible amount of strength, Andy watched the figure lash out, clasping two hamfists around the ork’s neck and violently pulling backwards. The ork squeaked in surprise, its oversized axe thunking into the ground just inches from Andy’s head
Andy watched as the lumbering giant squeezed and twisted the ork’s body until it was a lifeless sack of sinew and bone. For the first time Andy realized he had been holding his breath and a great inrush of air filled his lungs as he realized he might get out of this alive after all.
His savior was immense, much larger than the orks around him. He looked vaguely human, his body covered with huge, misshapen boulder-sized clumps of muscle. His head was large and lumpy, with crude features contorted in rage. Andy was almost as scared of him then he was of the orks, but the fact that he was wearing his regiment's uniform put his mind somewhat at ease.
The ogryn, which was the only thing it could be, tossed the broken ork body aside and plucked the axe out of the ground with apparent delight. Before Andy could say anything, the brute turned and began to wade into the green tide. Andy started, realizing that a whole squad of ogryn and rushed in to counter the ork's charge.
He was overwhelmed. The sheer savagery of the fighting was horrifying. The ogryn were flinging the orks about like toys, oblivious to the wounds that began to cover their bodies. He saw one ogryn fall under the onslaught of four orks that cut him down with a flurry of axe strikes. The ogryn that had saved Andy had somehow lost the large axe he had acquired and was now using a huge shotgun as a club, his victims flying through the air which each crushing blow. None of them, Andy noticed, got back up again.
Andy was just beginning to think that now would be a good time to sneak away when something he saw made him catch his breath. There was an ork, bigger than all the rest, with a large, bulky gun aimed on the ogryn that had saved Andy's life. The ogryn seemed to notice the threat just as Andy did, and began to charge. No! Andy thought. Don't run! Shoot him! Shoot him!
He would never make it in time. The ogryn seemed too caught up in bloodlust to remember that his weapon could be a used as a gun as well as a club. He wanted to call out to warn him, but he was too afraid, and doubted he would be able to hear over the din of battle anyway. The ogryn was going to die and Andy was helpless to stop it.
The loud rapport of a shot echoed throughout the battlefield.
A large body dropped to its knees and fell to the ground in a heap.
Andy looked down into his hands, and saw that he was holding a smoking rifle with no recollection of picking it up. His hands were remarkably steady, and his breathing was even. He looked up to see the signs of battle dying down as the orks began to flee with the ogryns in hot pursuit. The ogryn that had saved him stood before the corpse of the ork, looking confused about the smoking crater in the middle of the ork's forehead and not realizing how close he’d come to death.
Andy's eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he passed out.
There was a sound of shuffling feet and guttural laughter. Andy blinked and opened his eyes. He was floating through the air, or seemed to be at least. He felt nauseated and tried to hold in his lunch as he jostled around, the smell of blood almost overwhelming him. An unusually large hand was clutching the back of his uniform, carrying him with long, clumsy strides towards his regiment's base of operations.
He looked up. The ogryn had saved him. He was bleeding from a dozen different wounds, but did not seem to mind. Behind him followed a score or so more ogryn, all laughing cheerfully at their recent victory. Andy thanked the emperor the ogryn thought to pick him up; he could not imagine being left on the battlefield alone.
"Um... I think I'm alright..."
The ogryn started and dropped Andy like he had just bit him.
"Huh? Little man okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I just had a little fit, s'all."
Andy picked himself up and began to jog beside the huge strides of the lead ogryn. He was tired and groggy, but felt too embarrassed to ask to be carried again.
"Me name's Andy McCraggen."
"What's your name?"
Andy jogged the rest of the way back in silence. The others under Grub's command were loud and raucous in their celebration, thumping each other on the back with enough force to knock a tree down, it seemed. Grub, however, was oddly quite, speaking very little and only when necessary. For an ogryn, he seemed very thoughtful, and Andy wondered just how smart he really was.
They reached their destination in just a few hours, the sky being completely dark by this time. The sentries on duty nodded curtly to Grub and his squad as they passed. If they even noticed Andy was with them, they made no sign of it. Andy was still in a state of numb shock, so he followed Grub’s squad in silence.
Grub led them to the officer's tent, where Commissar Skrym was busy receiving a report from Lieutenant Egor Alexandrov, the regiment’s demolitions expert and all-around fire enthusiast. Upon seeing the approaching ogryn, the Commissar interrupted the report to address Grub and his men.
Andy did not like Commissar Norna Skrym. Apparently, female Commissars are almost unheard of, and so the ones that do exist often feel they have something to prove. Andy found her a stickler for rules and regulations, as well as a little too oversensitive.
"Bonehead Grub, It is good to see you and your... men... have survived! We lost contact with your squad in the beginning of the engagement."
Grub looked confused and reached up to the vox in his ear.
"Grub forgot to turn it on..."
The Commissar slumped visibly and put her face into her hands. Andy had a feeling she had worked with Grub’s squad many times in the past and felt a little bit of pity for the poor women. With a tired shake of her head regained her normal pristine composure and continued.
“I don’t see Dorg with you. Did he survive?”
“Nah, he got his brain thumped”
“Quite. Perhaps next time I will be able to join your… squad to lead you more effectively. What exactly did you do out there? You weren’t seen by any of the guardsmen during the main assault.”
Andy felt it was his time to speak up.
“He was saving me, sir… I mean ma’am!”
“Commissar Skrym will do.”
“Yes ma’am. We were outflanked by orks and would have been killed had not Grub and his squad countered their charge. It, ah… It got a bit messy…”
She scrutinized both Andy and Grub for a few moments. Andy frankly was too tired to stand at attention and Grub would have looked ridiculous doing it covered in blood and tattered clothes as he was. Finally, she nodded in a kind of calculating approval.
“Very well. Bonehead Grub, you may take your squad to the mess tent. You are granted double rations tonight due to the…Emperor-Chief’s approval of your conduct on the battlefield today. Do you understand?
“Emperor-Chief is pleased with Grub?”
“Yes, and that means you get more food. Got it?”
Grub saluted with the wrong hand and turned to leave. The rest of the ogryns under his command howled with glee and followed, so ecstatic they were that the 'emperor-chief' was pleased enough to give them a big meal.
Commissar Skrym shook her head, a strange blend of disgust and amusement on her face. After a moment she turned to Andy and dismissed him to he own quarters before returning to the Lieutenant’s report.
Andy started to leave when a sudden need overtook him.
"Oi! Grub! Um… Bonehead Grub!"
The huge ogryn turned around just as he was about to enter the mess tent.
"I just wanted to say...I just wanted to say 'thank you.' Thank you very much, Grub."
A big smile graced his crude features, and he raised his hand to wave goodbye. Andy waved back, shocked at how childish such a large and brutal creature could seem at times.
When Andy returned his squad’s bunk tent, the other ratlings dropped what they were doing and swarmed around him.
“We thought you were dead!”
“What the bloody hell happened?”
“Care for a game ‘o dice?”
“Jeb reckons he saw you stay behind to fight with a bunch o’ ogryn!”
“That’s a load of bull dung, and you know it. Please stop crowdin’ me. All I want right now is a bottle o’ rum and my bloody cot.”
“I mean it, Marsh; I’ll talk to ye all on the morrow.”
“Fine! Go on, ye lazy bastard!”
“It’s not bull dung, I don’t care what he says. I saw him fightin’ with a bunch of bloody ogryn! It was the bravest thing I ever saw!”
“It’s true or I’m a beer-swilling ale-hound!”
“You are a beer-swilling ale-hound!”
“You may mock, good sir, you may mock…”
Victory is achieved through mettle.
Glory is acheived through metal.
ahaha! it made me laugh. that was a really good story, it really was! i read it once to try and nit-pick then found myself reading it again i enjoyed it that much!
one thing i would say- i think the fact that Andy was a ratling should have been more emphasised, i kept forgetting he was! and i also think that the part of Andy could have been played by a simple storm trooper just as well, allowing the reader to relate to the story more. just a thought.
great read thanks!
Thank you! You made my day! I didn't think anyone liked it. I'll try to write some more!
Victory is achieved through mettle.
Glory is acheived through metal.
wow! that was brilliant! You are very talented.
I disagree with IronJack, i think you emphasised the fact that he was a ratling very well.
Please, write more!
I don't suffer from insanity! I enjoy it!
Great piece of work. Some solid characters and comradeship in there, and I look forward to seeing more!
A little touch of humour in there as well, which is always good.
Thanks for putting this up!
To be honest, I first saw this story and thought *wow, its really long!* and questioned reading the whole thing.
This was a great piece of work! I read it all the way through twice, chuckling my head off both times. Very well done, and I sincerely hope to see more of your work later!
Also, I recommend anyone (who, if like me) who looks through comments to see if the post is worth reading to READ THIS STORY. It's very, very well worth.
Well done, again, sir. *Rep*
Lovely Story, and I do hope to see more of your lovely work.
No retreat, No surrender.. got questions ? ask the Commissar.
Good job, got a laugh out of me as well.
Member of the Fluffmasters Clan
I love this tale. However, I didn't realize Andy was a ratling until I read the comments.