This is an interesting idea that came to me during my school oral presentation about Indian culture and Chewbacca. It was to write another one of my useless fictions, but instead of a little guardsmen running around cutting up dozens of Orks, all the battles are gonna be rolled for, using the normal WH40k rules. That should make it a bit more realistic or something.
“No! Fuck fuck fuck fuck! No No No!” Inside a tiny wooden hut, the babbling, shaking form of a human soaked in blood lay sobbing over the piled little bodies of children, too disfigured to tell were one started and the other ended. The sobbing man clawed at his hair and bloody face, screaming wildly, desperately trying to contain the inevitable insanity yet to come and quell his shattered mind. “Ha ha ha” Behind the deranged man stood an Astartes warrior gleamed in pink armour, adorned in skulls of deamons and man alike. The Chaos Space Marine barely fit in the little hut and was hunching almost 90 degrees with the ceiling. He stood holding his twisted boltgun laughing at the little weak human. “Ha ha your so wea..” The man screamed a high pitched noise animals make when cut up to pieces alive. Clutching a piece of bone his insanity finally possessed him and provoked sudden homicidal mania. “Mother Fucker!! Arghh!” The Chaos Space Marine, hardened by demonic vows and centuries of war easily saw the desperate attack. The marine thrust his hand forward to grab hold of the maniacs little head, but in place of skull, grabbed nothing. The delirious maniac slashed at the marines face with wild eyed frenzie, bellowing uncontrollable curses. Stepping back the Astartes dodged the wild slash but wasn't quick enough to dodge the second and crouched under the hut clutching his bloody leaking throat. Smiling, the marine lunged forward at the screaming human to end its insanity. A mere throat gash was not enough to stop a Chaos Marine Veteran of Slaanesh. The knife edge stabbed straight through the raving human's body, dropping him instantly, leaving the human ranting, twisting his limbs in all directions. Jumping up from the ground, the possessed human threw himself with a knife still in his gut at the marine with demonic hysterics, clawing at his own face. Amused, the marine managed to duck under the first clawed hand but was met with a second hand holding the bone, stabbed into his torso, the bone smashed against his armour harmlessly. Chuckling, the marine uppercut his fist into the maniacs face, throwing him back into the hut wall. The marine looked on as the human picked himself up once again. “Bastard won't die!” Still screaming, the human stood up from the floor and continued his charge at the now serious marine. “Die, will you!” Losing interest in the human, who now posed a serious threat, punching forward the Chaos marine hit home with the strength of an astartes, crushing the insides of the struggling human. “What the..?!” Babbling and raving the man still fought back and landed two punches into the marines face, with the hand holding the remains of the bone, pierced the marine's skull, spraying more blood around the huts already bloody interior so the hut looked like as if a wave of blood had passed through it leaving red puddles and blood covered walls. Shocked, the marine fell side ways onto the floor with a loud thump, dead. Barely alive and still raving the human passed out into unconsciousness.
No longer amused by killing the whole population, the Emperors Children left a world in ruins. Towns burned to the ground and cities fell apart as the native population was taken back as slaves or raped and tortured to death by the Slaanesh warriors. A single marine in a small hut was not missed by his comrades because they were enjoying themselves too much and a single native man was neither missed because his comrades were all dead.
“Hold your breath corporal! Your in the Imperial Guard! Show some dammed balls!” Major Colonel Richard Brandt slapped the vomiting corporal on the back but even he fought back tears. This was not normal, nothing was normal... No, this was normal. Whole worlds rapped and tortured in unimaginable ways. Children raped, cut to pieces, sacrificed. Nobody was spared. “I fucking hate Slaanesh!” Lieutenant Price stood upright observing the unfolding scene of a world destruction aftermath recovery. “Platoon 3! Clear this mess up in the village below. I want grave diggers assigned. See anything out of place, don't touch it, contact an officer! I fucking hate Slannesh!” Lieutenant Price, as well as the other officers and soldiers of the Terek 74th, wore similar uniforms to the Vostroyan regiments albeit without the chain mail and armour. The uniform cloth was a dark green mixed with black facings, black buttons, black decorations and a black bearskin. The only other colour was a blood red sash the officers wore around their torso.
“Sir!” A guardsmen with his lasgun slung on his back came running towards the Senior Lieutenant. “We've found something sir!”
These are the rules or whatever.
WS4 Wargear: Boltgun
Wargear: Sword (cc weapon), Bolt Pistol (psy bolts), Bottle of Alcohol.
Trade mark Item (Bottle of Alcohol).
Drunk: Lt Price was taught an unusual fighting style based on his drunkard movements from his home world's Moon 'Ugur'.
Price's Initiative, WS and Attack is increased by 1 although his BS is decreased by 3. Price MUST assault when possible, with or without a unit he has joined.
Faith: Terek is situated very close to the Eye of Terror and is raided and assaulted constantly by Chaos from all sides. Each and every Officer of the Terek Imperial Guard is drilled thoroughly in the way of prayer and spirituality to avoid and repel Daemonic possession and Chaos evil.
When attacked by a psychic power, the enemies power is nullified on a 6+ and the power does not work.
Alle's Klar? Herr Kommissar