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post #21 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-10-12, 09:30 PM
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This is the classic example of the cup is 1/2 full and 1/2 empty. I would like to see each reader vote on maybe 10 to 15 stories per month. That would place over 350 votes per month and a fair idea of who's stories are truly the best.

As is, the few of us who write the stories are the ones who votes on each others work. Not bad really since we each have a steak in this, but more would be nice.

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post #22 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-10-12, 11:53 PM
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Eh, that's always been a point of contention with me. Few will remember but getting more folks to chime in here on the OW forums has been tried before. Years ago (three now?..Maybe more ), folks like Concrete Hero, Unknown Soldier, Plossy and even myself tried to get more interest here in the forums. It's just one of those things. Last year Boc and I tried it as well I think. Was it you Boc? Hell, I can't remember lol. We tried to get a little more interest in the HOES competition when Boc first started it. Like any board here on the forums, each one will have its devotees. Yes, there will be the occasional lookie-loo, but the inhabitants here are pretty much the only ones who reply.

The only suggestion that I can put forward is that, for those interested in increasing the views and replies, you sacrifice up some of your sig space with a link to the thread each month. Mayhaps a small blurb about it and how you'd like to see others join in on the competition and/or reading/commenting.

As for on-topic, I'm at logger-heads with my story idea. I don't know whether I want to write a serious piece of 40k fiction or go with a comical piece featuring my insane necromancer. Only time will tell, I guess !

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate

"If you can't stun them with your tactical brilliance, baffle them with your superior grasp of BS."

"I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man."

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Well, seeing as how you capitalize your characters, use proper grammar and punctuation, I'd say you qualify.
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post #23 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-11-12, 12:15 AM
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insane necromancer. i remember him and... yes very fun story indeed.

Who do I need to kill in order to get a zombie smiley face added to the smiles?

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post #24 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-11-12, 12:19 AM
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I vote Plossy. I think his face would make a WONDERFUL zombie smiley... Just don't tell him I said that...

On-topic: I was thinking necromancer as well. I haven't done anything funny in a long time and I'm honestly getting tired of gloom/doom/heroic blabibidyblah as of late.

"If you can't stun them with your tactical brilliance, baffle them with your superior grasp of BS."

"I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man."

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Well, seeing as how you capitalize your characters, use proper grammar and punctuation, I'd say you qualify.
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post #25 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-11-12, 10:38 AM
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What if the doomy guys ARE the heroes?

And I would dedicate a place in my sig, but I kind of have my own thing going...


Nonsense is our Salvation

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post #26 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-15-12, 01:40 PM
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Heresy Online Expeditious Stories 12-01: A Beginning
Title
VulkansNodosaurus
990 words

No celebration met the Spear of Truth’s arrival. The spaceship landed, rather, in absolute silence, disturbing neither the landing platform nor the Eldar standing on it. Its cerulean form, indeed reminiscent of a spear, glided to a complete stop.

The vessel’s doors opened, and two figures stepped out. One was easily identifiable as the leader- he wore a ceremonial, multicolored cloak not unlike those of the fabled Harlequins, and his gait was sure and insistent. Lekaila saw his scowling form advance onto the landing platform. She herself would, she knew, present a far less clear visage; she wore only the standard cloak and weaponry of the Rangers.

Weaponry, on her own Craftworld. There had been a day when she would have found that ridiculous, or even treasonous; now, it seemed to merely be a small comfort in a world gone mad.

“Captain Nifastet,” one of the greeters announced.

“Indeed. Osenic is not here, I expect?”

“The Duskbreacher is gone.”

“Then might I ask why I have been summoned here?”

There was a terse silence, as there always was at key moments like this. Though Lekaila’s walk on the Path of the Seer lay far in the past, she could still instinctively sense what was coming- a divergence, a decision that would shape her life, and not only hers.

She could get only glimpses of it now, and thus her attention returned to the conversation as Nifastet began explaining his theory. It was not a reasonable decision- even Nifastet should have known better than to tell the ones that could be his enemy he knew of their plots- but given the captain’s recent state, it was not a surprise.

“You want to kill me?” he asked, loudly and mockingly. There was something of the Harlequin in him, indeed; perhaps a potential future sucked into the maelstrom of the present. “You will succeed. I have tried to ensure my ship will escape, but you’ve likely sabotaged that too.” He was rambling now, yet sounding oddly heroic nevertheless. “I will only say that order begets chaos, and the worse the law-”

Lekaila saw the gun- not with her eyes, though they were near perfect, but with her foresight- and was about to shout a warning when the Long Rifle expelled its cargo.

It hurtled towards Nifastet, and then the captain noticed it as well. But there was no time.

Nifastet collapsed, his right side covered in blood. Even Lekaila could see the wound was not fatal, that the monofilament had only grazed Nifastet. As it extended to full length, the captain crawled away, an accusing look on his face. For a moment the thread attempted to find him again; its energy supply ran out too soon, though. The wire fell still.

Lekaila fired her own Rifle at the failed shot’s origin; she could only barely see the Eldar who had fired it, but that could be enough. The greeters seemed frozen in shock.

“On Alaitoc itself…” one Seer muttered.

Nevertheless,three of the party ran towards the shot’s origin. Lekaila’s shot impacted, and she watched with some regret as it chewed apart the Ranger (the figure was that, it had become clear). She had not truly wanted to kill him or her; it was a quick decision that the attack had made inevitable.

It was only a mild melancholy by Eldar standards. It left her able to think.

Nifastet sat back up, taking an accusing look around the hangar as he did so. He had the gaze of a being whose perceptions had been both shaken and confirmed simultaneously, a being who was unsure what to make of the whole situation.

“What’s… happening?”

“It wasn’t us.”

Nifastet wasn’t surprised at the statement as he observed the Artisan, who continued. “Osenic. The Duskbreacher. We have uncovered evidence of dark plots, and wanted to warn you.”

The captain continued staring, now in disbelief, and Lekaila joined him. This was not making any sense- except, perhaps, it was. The explanation was quite reasonable- Osenic had been acting suspiciously for some time- but for even the reactionaries on Alaitoc to recognize that was unexpected.

“Nice job warning us,” Nifastet muttered.

Lekaila took the following pause to make sure the renegade Ranger was dead. He was, the ruined body lying in place. The three Warriors who had run to ensure the conclusion were returning.

All was calm- all would be calm, at least until another assassin would come out and finish the first’s job. If Lekaila was uneasy about the situation, a number of the other Eldar were terrified, and their faces showed it. They were not Rangers, she reiterated in mind, and there was reason for them to be afraid of a rogue in their home.

“As Reasine so promptly observed,” the Seer from before said, “we have found evidence of Osenic Duskbreacher making deals with the Dark Eldar and, perhaps, even the pantheon of Chaos. You had been chosen to hunt him down, to prevent the stain on our Craftworld; for all your flaws, Nifastet, your sense of justice is infallible. And your crew has good aim.”

“And how should I believe you?” Nifastet shot back.

“Look at your numbers. Look at ours. If we wanted to kill you, we would have.”

Grudgingly, Nifastet nodded.

The preparations passed quickly enough, and soon enough the Spear of Truth was ready to leave the confines of Alaitoc once more. Lekaila was in the ship by then, observing the final loading take place below her. The distrust she had felt for her homeworld’s leaders had, it seemed, been unfounded; in the end they had found out the truth of Osenic’s betrayal before the Spear’s crew. Perhaps they were stuck-up idealists; perhaps they were tyrannical traditionalists. But as the mighty Void Stalker lifted off the surface, Lekaila forced these prejudices to the back of her mind.

This was no time for strife. They had one mission now, and it had begun.

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post #27 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-16-12, 10:27 PM Thread Starter
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Aye, Shogun, that was us talking last year about getting more eyes on here. It has worked a little bnit, people are starting to rear their FanFic heads haha.

The best bet would probably be via sig links. I've got one but it probably isn't sexy enough to click on...

On a side note, I'll have internet again intermittently starting the 19th... right now its once every two days for 10 minutes haha.


Heresy-Online's Expeditious Stories Challenge 13-06: "Serenity" has started, get your stories in by July 11th!

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3. Nothing Boc said should ever be taken seriously. Unless he's talking about being behind you. Then you run like fuck.
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post #28 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-17-12, 11:45 AM
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Expeditious Stories 12-01A: Beginnings
“From Darkness Into Time Immemorial”
Dicrel Seijin
Word Count: 1,100


From behind his storm shield, the Eternal Crusaders’ castellan, Dedrick, swung his thunder hammer, clearing the cavern entrance.

*****

Neophyte Eckardt woke to pain and darkness. He swallowed hard against the impulse to vomit. Shaking his head made him wish he hadn’t as the pressure behind his eyes exploded, sending multi-colored filaments crawling across his field of vision and into the absolute darkness.

After a few moments letting things fade and settle, he began his assessment. His ears were ringing. He felt his secondary heart beating. Not good signs. He had taken considerable damage… somehow. He set aside that thought; he would not be side-tracked.

Rockfall trapped his legs and right arm. Any effort to extract caused excruciating pain. More rock pinned his left arm to his chest. Through hesitant experimentation, Eckardt found they would shift.

Clenching his teeth, he arched his back, twisting his body to the side. His shout was lost among the echoes of tumbling rocks.

Though Eckardt breathed easier, he couldn’t get enough air. Panic flared, something else was wrong; he suppressed it through meditation. In that calmness, he listened and heard the faint crackling in his lungs over the ringing in his ears.

Gingerly he explored, ignoring the new blossoming pain. He hissed at finding clotted blood. Not rocks, but a weapon? Where was the enemy now? No, he was getting side-tracked; assess the injuries. He confirmed it by pressing down on his breastbone; severe pain erupted from his side. If he had been better, he would have had earned his carapace and suffered a less grievous injury. No. Focus.

Eckardt eased his head back, resting it on the dry gravel. He had a concussion, broken legs and arm, a dislocated shoulder, a sprained wrist, broken ribs, and a punctured lung. With the assessment complete, he tried to remember what happened and found he had trouble. And still the ringing in his ears persisted. How could that be? He should ask—Brother Anselm!

Fragments of memory tumbled from a dark corner of his mind. The crusade had arrived at Ambrosia. He had not acquitted himself in that first assault wave on the orbital stations nor impressed Brother Anselm. More than ever there was a good chance he would die before earning the rank of Initiate. No. Focus.

Then, there had been an orbital bombardment. He had followed Brother Anselm up the drop pod’s assault ramp.

As time passed, Eckardt lay there, trying to puzzle together more. Faintly, he could hear the echoes of shifting stone. It was a long moment more before he realized the significance.

He reached up and felt his goggles fragment. The echoes of footsteps grew louder.

*****

Apothecary Lexer sealed the progenoid gland into an armorcrys vial.

With seeming undue haste, Techmarine Hewett knelt. Prayers to the Omnissiah tumbled from his lips as he fine-tuned the device he held. Satisfied he had placated the machine-spirit, he paused to convey his respects before bathing the fallen Black Templar in a light that initiated quantum entanglement. After consulting another device built into his vambrace, he removed the pauldron of the fallen Astartes and scanned it separately. Should their return be successful, the quantum entanglement insured the Crusaders could trace the pauldron’s worldline through the manifold and back to this cavern.

“Apothecary. This one’s still alive.”

Dedrick groaned inwardly at Chaplain Traugott’s matter-of-fact statement over the vox. They didn’t need this… complication.

*****

“…phyte? Neophyte?”

Eckardt woke realizing that he had passed out. He blinked in the harsh light. An apothecary knelt over him. Automatically, he eyes darted to the pauldron: an hourglass silhouette on a tan field. He didn’t recognize the Chapter.

“I am Apothecary Lexer of the Eternal Crusaders, a successor-chapter of the Black Templars.”

Eckardt had not heard of them, but it wouldn’t do to voice that. He fumbled for a topic, “the orks?”

“We came upon your drop site and simply followed the fallen. Once we saw the landslide….”

“My brothers?”

“All dead.” Lexer tapped his reductor. “I have their gene-seed safe.”

“What now?”

“That depends upon you, neophyte.” A sword brother in terminator armor loomed into view. “I am Castellan Dedrick. Upon my word, I cannot promise we will cross paths with another Black Templars crusade. I can promise a place within our ranks. Initiate Wernhar,” Dedrick glanced over at someone out of Eckardt’s sight, “has agreed to take you on as a neophyte.”

“I thank you for the honor, but I can—”

“Castellan!”

Eckardt followed the castellan’s gaze and saw an initiate holding aloft Caliburnis, the relic blade and the chain that bound it to Castellan Oberon’s red gauntlet and black vambrace. “No! You—” He didn’t feel the carnifex against his temple, nor hear the trigger pull.

Dedrick left Lexer to his thoughts. He didn’t doubt that this was the first time the apothecary had administered the Emperor’s Peace to an Astartes unawares. In truth, he himself needed time to reflect. The legend built up by the Lost Fighting Company Oberon during the Declates Crusade centuries ago was glorious; the reality of its end here and now was not. If only they had arrived too late, though that could never be a possibility….

“Castellan, we are done.”

Dedrick looked over to Chaplain Traugott and the rising Lexer. He surveyed the rest of his company. Each held a piece of Templar armor that would be venerated as relics upon their return. He triggered the vox, “Close ranks, my brothers.” All turned to look at Techmarine Hewett.

Hewett waved closer a servitor laden with a lacquered wooden box made baroque by brass fittings and ivory buttons and levers. As he whispered the last words of an activation litany, he pulled a switch’s ivory handle.

*****

The translation taxed even the Astartes’s vaunted physiology. Though still nauseous, Dedrick strode across the deck plating toward a waiting figure.

As the fighting company approached, Inquisitor Idan of the Ordo Chronos kept glancing at Initiate Wernhar, who reverently bore the relic blade and gauntlet.

After the company came to a halt, Idan nodded, “Castellan.”

“Damn you but it works. When and where would you have us go now?”

“Here and there. You’ll recover archeotech, and perhaps even battle-brothers,” Idan glanced at the apothecary, missing the emotion that flickered across Dedrick’s face. “We’ll have a year before we destroy the galaxy as we know it.” He smiled.

“The Horus Heresy.” Dedrick’s whisper was a low rumble.

“Yes,” Idan smiled again. “For being our first chrononauts, your company will have a rather singular honor. Where? When? Who will you choose to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with?”

"Oh, you can have as much violence as you want, but no swearing and absolutely no sex." --Bruce Campbell

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post #29 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-19-12, 10:59 PM
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I have half of mine done! Hope to have it up either tomorrow or Saturday!

Also, good stories all around so far folks! Keep up the excellent work!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate

"If you can't stun them with your tactical brilliance, baffle them with your superior grasp of BS."

"I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man."

Quote:
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Well, seeing as how you capitalize your characters, use proper grammar and punctuation, I'd say you qualify.
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post #30 of 33 (permalink) Old 01-19-12, 11:52 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Shogun_Nate View Post
I have half of mine done! Hope to have it up either tomorrow or Saturday!

Thanks for the warning. :-)

Also, good stories all around so far folks! Keep up the excellent work!

I agree.

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate

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