Dissection of a WAAAAGH!

[animated_shadow]

Hey all, this will be my entry into the SSC. It is now fully complete! It features Warlord Vrrmik's digestion pool, as he gave open permission on it. My thanks to him.

EDIT: VOTE HERE! http://www.librarium-online.com/foru...st-voting.html (R3 Short Story Contest Voting!)

Memories of a WAAAAGH!



"Da ork WAAAAGH! is a fing of kunning," said Bill the grot to his companion, Job. Grunting as he pulled teeth out of the dismembered ork head, Job nodded vigorously.
"Tis a shame that no one ever appreciates that," Bill shook his head sadly. "All dey see is our larger cousins hurtling around space krumping fings."

With a large pop, Job wrenched free a tooth bigger than his forearm and went flying back into the mud.
"Too true, Bill," he spluttered. He had a habit of agreeing with everything anyone said.
"To really appreciate a WAAAAGH, one has to be a grot."

* * *

Stomping his way through the heavy jungle terrain, Rumpin' Backthumpa, leader of the crimson WAAAAGH, kept his eyes peeled. The last few months fighting against tyranids had sharpened his senses. The damned things could spring up out of nowhere anytime.

Out of the periphery of his vision he registered movement. With a gutteral roar he swung his admantanium Klaw in a lethal arc. One of his kommando's exploded viscerally.
'Oops,' he thought. The band marched on.

Sometime later, he reached an area where the land was stripped bare in a rough circle. At the centre of the clearing there was a crater with a viscous liquid bubbling inside. All was silent.

Signalling for his gretchin builders, he ordered them to begin building wooden platforms around the pool. He was pretty sure that this hole in the ground was dangerous, but he didn't want to start shooting it unless he knew it wouldnt blow up. Instead he decided to poison it with a lethal dose of orkish waste. The latest drops were set up.

* * *

"Of course it was up to da grots to build those drops," recalled Bill. "I swear without us, Orkses would just be living in holes in da ground."
"Agreed." said Job.
"No attenshun paid for our safety, and all we get is a couple of teef for da days work. Only 'arf of us survived."
Job shuddered as he yanked the last of the teeth.
"Dem tentacles were dead scary, Bill."

* * *

Sitting on a makeshift throne he had his lackeys lug around, an amused Warboss watched the progress of the builder grots. Occasionally something half- formed and extremely unpleasent would emerge from the depths of the pool and ensnare a screaming worker. It was hilarious.

Once the rickety platform was complete, Rumpin' decided to christen the drops himself. Heaving his huge mass onto the wooden beam he began to chuckle nastily. There was silence in the clearing apart from the creaking platform. Then there was a noise Papa Nurgle would have been proud of.

While the Ork warboss had been tensing his body, a tentacle had once more emerged from the opaque liquid. Snaking upward in a gentle spiral, it was poised to strike when the vile missile descended.

Sizzling enveloped the area, accompanied by the death screams of the predatory Xeno. The rest of the warband ensured that nothing would emerge from that pool for at least another 100 cycles.

* * *

The two grots made their way to the Mekshop with the sack of teeth weighing them down. They were little more than shapes on the horizon as twilight fell upon the ork encapment. The tyranids hadn't been sighted for weeks now, and the WAAAAGH was generally considered to have been a success.

Bill stopped for a moment to stare at the precariously balanced guard towers. He smiled as he remembered him and Job stationed up in one shooting bugs.
"S'pose WAAAAGH's have their fun moments too." he reflected. Job, struggling under the bag of incisors, grumbled something incoherently.

* * *

"Over there!" yelled Job, gesturing excitedly. Bill swung the pintle- mounted big shoota in the vague direction of Job's pointing. With a squeeze of the rough trigger, The lump of metal let out a feral roar, scything down the approaching bugs. High pitched squeals washed over the two manic grots like a wave of music.

Down below them Rumpin' Backthumpa led his force into a close quarters smackdown. Bits and pieces flew in every direction as the two opposing forces attempted to gain the upper hand.

The highlight of the day began when the aliens took to the sky. Rapidly soaring towards them, winged 'nids prepared to dismantle the guard tower- including it's inhabitants.

Hopping up and down, Job let out a familiar cry of "There! There!"

Panting with the effort of turning the heavy armament, Bill trained the gun's sights on the airborne opponents. 'For Gork and Mork,' he thought as he pressed the trigger.

DakkaDakkaDakka! The gun shredded everything to a reddish haze, which gently poured down onto the battlefield, momentarily blotting out the sun.

"BooYah!" cheered the two grots simultaneously.

* * *

The pair stood haggling with a disgruntled Mekboy. Giving up making himself heard over the din of the large warehouse, Bill raised two fingers in the air. The ork stared intently at his hand, his mouth slowly forming the words: "one......two..."
Satisfied with the offer, the Mekboy nodded, and collected his teeth in exchange for a string of brightly coloured mushrooms.

"Da very best fing about a WAAAAGH however, is easily da spoils o' war." declared Bill.
Chuckling as he placed various mushrooms into his pocket, Job nodded his head enthusiastically.
"Definitly, Bill." A fight broke out over a shiny gubbin, and they watched the furious orks back into a corner, while runtherds attemted to zap them with charged prods.

"The reason being that they's so interested in killing each other instead of us for the gubbinz! Leaving us with plenty of time to deal with the administrative side of fings.
Yup, like I sed, a WAAAAGH is a fing of kunning. Delicately balanced, 'tis an eco system in itself."

Job's movement had become increasingly erratic after the ingestion of several purple fungi. Gazing blearily at Bill, he contributed for the first time to the conversation more than just affirmation. Shaking his fist in the air, he proclaimed:

"Long Live Orks!!"

[Warlord Vrrmik]

Subscribed and looking forward to some more Orkish speak. And hopefully seeing as you're using the pool it'll feature 'nids, something of which I am much looking forward to!

[animated_shadow]

The story is slowly taking form, apologies Warlord for the orks' rather unconventional tactics.. :p

[animated_shadow]

Almost complete! 860 words so far.

[Warlord Vrrmik]

Lookin' good so far mate, keep it up!

[animated_shadow]

Story is now complete, 41 words over the limit. Any ideas on how to scale back?


EDIT: 28 words left to cut.

[Warlord Vrrmik]

It's good. But you can't domesticate or tame 'nids mate, I'm sorry. You should cut out that part completely, which'll leave you with the right number of words.

[animated_shadow]

It's good. But you can't domesticate or tame 'nids mate, I'm sorry. You should cut out that part completely, which'll leave you with the right number of words.

Thanks for the advice, adjusted accordingly.

My entry is now complete, with four words to spare! Do I need to place it anywhere?

[Captain Corrigan]

Interesting. I like the unusual storytelling angle, full marks for originality.

I don't think you have to put it anywhere, I assume Kyle will find all threads tagged SSC and collect them together when the two week window closes.

-Corrigan

[animated_shadow]

Interesting. I like the unusual storytelling angle, full marks for originality.

I don't think you have to put it anywhere, I assume Kyle will find all threads tagged SSC and collect them together when the two week window closes.

-Corrigan

My thanks for the help.

Would you have any big criticisms regarding the piece? I usually just write fluff for batreps, and so help with this larger scale story would be a big help.