the Survivors - Warhammer 40K Fantasy

Welcome to Librarium Online!

Join our community of 80,000+ members and take part in the number one resource for Warhammer and Warhammer 40K discussion!

Registering gives you full access to take part in discussions, upload pictures, contact other members and search everything!

Register Now!

User Tag List

+ Reply to Thread
Results 1 to 2 of 2

Thread: the Survivors

  1. #1
    MR. is offline
    Member MR.'s Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2006
    Northern Italy
    0 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    5 (x1)

    the Survivors

    Hi everybody, I decided to post a little bit of fluff for my army.

    Before posting it a little advice:
    it is a particular army in many ways, they are Squat, they are survivors from Kai and have a German WW I feel about them
    I’m not English, nor is English my natural language. I strive to my best but do not ensure the results. I will be grateful to anybody pointing out any error either grammatical or in style

    This said here it goes, I hope you’ll enjoy.


    The voices in the conciliarium raised and dropped in a continual hum that Constable Theobold found both annoying and tedious.

    “Mighty Saint Zerubael” continued in his mind-piercing shriek the oldest of the trio
    “Mighty Saint Zerubael” choired the others
    “Servant of the almighty Emperor”
    “Servant of the almighty Emperor”
    “Save us from the heretic machinations”
    “Save us from the heretic machinations”
    “Preserve us from the radiation of evil”
    “Preserve us from the radiation of evil”
    “Free us from the abhorrent deviance”
    “Free us from the abhorrent deviance”
    “Servant of the almighty Emperor”
    “Servant of the almighty Emperor”

    ‘Almighty? Hah! Yes almighty indeed, then why didn’t he save us??’ he knew better than to let his bitterness let him offend someone who, after all, was his client, but wondered nonetheless how could someone be so blind.
    He allowed his mind wander through his memories, and long indeed was such a vagrancy for he was one of the last who were there when the Storm brewed.
    He remembered.
    They were a hard working people, always striving for improvement, for enlightenment. In a galaxy lost in madness, darkness and ignorance they tried to hold a lamp of wisdom and knowledge for anyone to see. Their Smiths were still able to perform feats of science, true science and not some dabbling about machine spirits. They knew the secrets for thinking machines construction and how to build self repairing automata used for labouring where flesh and bone would be crushed or consumed.
    Then the Storm arrived. When the first signs began to blow through the Warp they sent requests for help to the Empire but, to their shocked horror, none came. It is a punishment for your being not human enough they said. It is a trial they said. Stand strong, endure this ill-wind and you will atone your sins. How could it be that adapting to life in a planet whose G-force was almost twice Terra’s made them less human? How could it be that survival was a sin? But these questions were not even understood by those idiotic mean-spirited fools, let alone answered.
    Then the Storm came. And with it the horrors. The sky went dark and then red and then it took colours that had no name nor any right to exist. The vast oceans were no more places to find food, shelter and solace and went mad with waves that changed anything living caught in them in horrible monstrosities. They fought as hard as they could. There were acts of courage and honour that should have earned a place in tales to be remembered till the end of the world. But their world was already ending. They did their best. They were a stoic people always doing their best no matter the odds. They did so in their life and did so in their fights and did so in their deaths.
    Then the Storm won. And their whole world was siphoned away in a realm that had no words to be described with. They had to make choices. Even if their honour and their bitterness and their defiant stoicism would have led them to refuse any surrender and to fight to the bitter and inevitable end they were pragmatic. They had families to take care of, a whole planet of people to be taken care of. They made the better choice out of a list of possibilities where very bad was weighted against even worst. They bend their knees to the ironclad warriors leading the monstrous hordes and offered a treaty, lives for knowledge.
    Their enemies were intelligent in their own twisted way. Not led from faith, hatred or lust for mindless bloodshed they saw the possibilities in having the knowledge of such Machine Smiths added to theirs and the sensibility of having such planet spanning production facilities working for their already mighty arsenals. Thus an uneasy truce settled. Engineers worked together with Warsmiths to build war-tools of unsurpassed potency. Some seemed to begin to forget the menace pending like a sword on their heads. Some even enjoyed the endless possibilities given from having to work in an environment that didn’t have any law to be abided to, no imperial decrees, not even physics nor –even worse- moral. Some were wiser. they knew that nothing would last, not there.
    They started to secretly prepare to escape. He was but a mere boy but his part he did. As a messenger, spy, thief. A couple of times even as assassin. Nothing blatant. A broken chain letting a heavy load loose upon a corrupted one. Gripping gears catching a too clever Lieutenant. He remembered his aunt wondering if they weren’t corrupted from their environment as much as their more short-sighted brethren even if in a subtler way. But they hadn’t time to lose wondering on such philosophic matters, not when they had their people to save.
    They were ready not a moment too soon for there came news of an enemy army preparing to strike. This time they were lead by faith and lust for mindless bloodshed. Some of their enemies –or of their benefactors as some had began to call them- decided to stand their ground others choose to leave. Such confusion did nothing but help. Who would notice the extra barges leaving with the fleet, who would mind them going loose in the warp drifts. It was a desperate plan but desperate times require for desperate measures. Incredible to say it worked.
    A mounting storm helped. They let themselves be transported by it and to their extreme and unbelieving relief they landed ashore in the storm dying waves in a stretch of real space. How much time had they spent in captivity? How much wandering in that strange dimension? They didn’t knew. To their shocked horror they discovered it upon landing on the first planet they met. What they would have thought to be no more then few decades, a century at the utmost was more. Much more… 5 millennia had passed.

    The monotonous chant had faded away and his Lord was already negotiating over the contract with this stupid Governor and his lackeys. He shook off his memories and limped back to the table. He couldn’t but admire young Theobold Minor (or Minus T as he was sometimes called) capabilities at bartering. Soon they would haggle to an agreement. Soon they will have a Contract. Work to be done. Time to be ready again.

    With no friends and no planet to go what could they do but sell their services to the highest bidder? Equally at ease with repairing machines or destroying enemies they easily found employment. Always trying to avoid the Inquisition prying eye, the stupid Technomancers from Mars and the fanatical Astartes. Always navigating in back-water systems they enjoyed what they could of their lives carving out a niche for themselves. Doing their work. Doing their best. As always.

    Buon Vento e Salva Notte

  2. Remove Advertisements

  3. #2
    LO's unofficial Jester Visitor Q's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2006
    Vault 13
    1 Post(s)
    0 Thread(s)

    377 (x8)

    Interesting story and I liked it as a stand alone short story.

    In terms of WH40K background there are a few problems (well not so much problems as differences). The first is that as far as I can remember the Kai weren't squats they were entirly different altogether, in addition they were completly destroyed. As to the latter well obviously you are taking artistic licence saying some survived.

    As to the former issue and the one that no doubt will have people complaining the most not alot is said about who the Kai actually were so making them Squats while not likely, isn't beyond the realms of speculation.

    All in all I enjoyed it.
    Last edited by Visitor Q; January 17th, 2007 at 22:22.
    "God is dead" Nietzsche- 1886
    "Nietzsche is dead" God- 1900

    Why are there scams?

+ Reply to Thread

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts