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The General Chaos of an Ork Waagh!
The Orkish horde charged forward into the defences of Hive City Scillia on the planet Tyranmus IV. Massive tides of greenskins thundered across the rocky and mostly barren plain towards the hastily constructed city fortifications manned by members of the Adeptus Astartes. Ork Trukks, Warbuggies, Trakks, Scorchas and Bikers roared across the barren ground sending up plumes of dust and oily smoke in equal mixture. Ork Boyz provided the majority of the footslogging force but Gretchin mobs and the occasional Nob also showed their presence in numerous places along the battlefield as they returned fire against the space marines ground in behind the walls of rubble, masonry, vehicle wreckage and barbed wire that formed the cities fortifications.
A space marine krak missile exploded next to a Trukk causing the driver to swerve to the right and hit a mound of earth with enough force to bounce every Ork in the trukk into the air with a shout of surprise. One airborne Ork latched on to a passing stormboy and smiled sheepishly at his confused face before their combined weight forced them to crash into the ground just short of the Hive defences. The Ork Trukk, now driverless, sped across the remaining flat before careening into the ramshackle wall, the remaining wreckage flipping over the destroyed wall to kill a good many fleeing marines before exploding into an oily fireball. Overhead, a pair of Deffkoptas thundered across the sky, discharging their underslung gunz into the hive’s defenders. A Hydra turret mounted on the roof of a nearby building opened fire and one Orkish flying contraption exploded into a flaming meteor and plummeted downwards, the remaining Deffkopta’s pilot laughing maniacally right up to the point where he collided into a tower. Ork Kommandos, sneaking along a high bluff next to the city, watched the battle rage from their vantage point while another group infiltrated the Hive’s sewer systems.
A Deff Dred clanked towards the Hive fortifications; it’s pilot roaring as the shoota mounted on his armoured hull sent bullets skipping off masonry and Astarte armour. The gun jammed and the Ork pilot roared with rage at his denied bloodlust, a grot climbed out from the back of the Dred and rapped on the barrel twice with his wrench before placing his eye to the muzzle to look for obstructions; the Ork pilot growled with impatience and pressed the triggers harder. This time the gun the gun fired, spraying the hive walls with grot blood; the Ork pilot’s hoots of harsh laughter quickly turned into violent curses as his gun once again jammed. Beside him the whirring buzzsaw of a Killa Kan sheared the head off the gunner of a passing Warbuggy, much to the amusement of the Gretchin inside, whose maniacal cackling could be heard from coming within the armoured Kan.
To be Continued…
What do you think?
I love it! That's awsome, although i dont think orks kill each other THAT much! But it definatly catches the "who the hell cares!" attitude of the orks. Write more! rep
PM me about Aurora Prime Vassal fights! Willing and ready!
i love it! i think it really shows the simple brutality of orks and all the mayhem they can cause.
It just goes to show that an orks worst enemy is.....the other orks. :rofl
Part IIMeanwhile, back across the dusty, rock studded plains, the Orks had set up temporary H.Q, repair station and landing ground. Blasted patches of blackened ground and craters (which marked the landing places of some of the over-eager raiding parties) provided the landing zones; or more accurately: A guideline of where the Ork landing crafts should attempt to land. Nearby, a Mek manned a lopsided radio broadcasting station made from parts taken from at least 6 different planets, including parts of Imperial guard vox transmitters, Ork "bitz" and even some Tau aerials. The message he sent into space was one that brings great joy to every Ork who hears it.
“Come one, Come all an’ join in da fun! We’z got us a big city full o’ ‘umies to stomp into da dust. Dis fights been goin on for a while but the boyz are still having lotsa fun wiv it. Dere’s even some of those marine-boyz down ‘ere so you’d betta come now before dey all get killed by da others. ‘Member: Da early Ork gets more ‘umies ta smash. I’ll be right ‘ere at da Station fixing stuff ‘coz youz iz too stoopid to drive proper an’ keep smashin inta rocks. So’z jus’ git down ‘ere before da fight iz all dun an’ we’ll do wot we Orks duz best, an' make da ‘umies wish dat dey had never herd o’ da Orks! WAAAAAAAAGH!!!”
The rest of the speech (not there was much more to say anyway) was drowned out by the roar of jet engines as a looted imperial landing craft swung low over the Station and prepared to descend. Underneath it on the ground a grot that only half knew what it was doing was signalling to the pilot using a pair of over-large wrenches and trying to direct it’s descent. The crew however, had other ideas. The hovering craft shuddered once in the air before it’s engines cut out all together and the machine fell out of the air into the ground with a loud crash, crushing the grot beneath it. Nearby the pilot of a Deffcopta was shouting incoherently at a Mek over the snarling engines of the small turbines mounted on either side of the Deffcopta’s cockpit. The starboard engine was operating normally, but the port engine would race until it seemed ready to explode, then die, then start racing again. The Mek in turn began shouting at the Grots wheeling a large tray covered in various mechanical tools and instruments past him to the malfunctioning aircraft. An Ork built craft chose that time to plummet from the sky and crash into the gorund with a mighty explosion, showering the landing grounds with tisted pieces of hot metal and one very surprised Grot. The grots pushing the tray flinched as debris rained around them and one of the trays rolled over the Mek’s toes as it passed, causing the Mek to roar a string of curses at the grots and boot one into the air for good measure. The airborne grot sailed through the air straight into the racing port engine of the Deffcopta. With a grinding noise the racing turbine belched smoke and tiny pieces of flesh out of its rear and the engine backfired once before resuming a steady working rhythm. The Mek gave the engine a puzzled frown before grinning and raising both fists to the pilot, thumbs up. The Pilot bared his teeth in a feral smile and took off in a roar of wind and spinning blades while the still-grinning Mek went looking for more grots to feed through malfunctioning engines.
Last edited by Shiz_Vaerth; January 11th, 2008 at 15:13.
Love it ,keep it coming. Here is some rep, do with it as you see fit. (It looks great above the fireplace.) ;Y