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post #1 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-07-11, 07:31 PM Thread Starter
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Default Heresy Online Expeditious Stories 2: Thirst

Here's how it works:

Each month, there will be a thread posted in the Original Works forum for that month's HOES competition. For those of you interested in entering, read the entry requirements, write a story that fits the chosen theme and post it as a reply to the competition thread by the deadline given.

Once the deadline has passed, a separate voting thread will be posted, where the readers and writers can post their votes for the top three stories. Points will be awarded (3 points for 1st, 2 for 2nd, and 1 for 3rd) for each vote cast, totaled at the closure of the voting window, and a winner will be announced. The winner will have his/her story added to the Winning HOES thread that will be posted with the completion of the first month's competition and, hopefully, stickied by the moderators


The idea with the theme is that it should serve as the inspiration for your stories rather than a constraint. While creative thinking is most certainly encouraged, the theme should still be relevant to your finished story. The chosen theme can be applied within the WH40K, WHF, HH, and even your own completely original works (though keep in mind, this IS a Warhammer forum) but there will be no bias as to which setting is used for your story.

As far as the theme goes, please feel free with future competitions to contact me with your ideas/proposals, especially given that my creative juices may flow a bit differently than yours. All I ask is that you PM me your ideas rather than posting them into the official competition entry/voting threads to keep posts there relevant to the current competition.

Word Count

The official word count for each competition will be 1,000 words. There will be a 10% allowance in this limit, essentially giving you a 900-1,100 word range with which to tell your tale. This is non-negotiable. This is an Expeditious Story competition, not an Epic Story nor an Infinitesimal Story competition. If you are going to go over or under the 900-1,100 word limit, you need to rework your story. It is not fair to the other entrants if one does not abide by the rules. If you cannot, feel free to PM me with what you have and I'll give suggestions or ideas as to how to broaden or shorten your story.

Each entry must have a word count posted with it. Expect a reasonably cordial PM from me (and likely some responses in the competition thread) if you either fail to adhere to this rule. The word count can be annotated either at the beginning or ending of your story, and does not need to include your title.

Without further ado...

The theme for this month's competition is:


Entries should be posted in this thread, along with any comments that the readers may want to give (and comments on stories are certainly encouraged in both the competition and voting threads!) 40K, 30K, WHF, and original universes are all permitted (please note, this excludes topics such as Halo, Star Wars, Forgotten Realms, or any other non-original and non-Warhammer settings).

The deadline for entries is Midnight US Eastern Standard Time (-5.00 hours for you UK folks)Sunday, 27 February 2011. Voting will be held from 27 Feb - 5 March.

If you have any questions, feel free to either PM me or ask in this thread.

Without further nonsense from me, let the writing begin!

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

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post #2 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-07-11, 09:55 PM
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Sounds like fun. If I get a chance to get a story written up, I will be sure to include it

Check out my gaming and 40k blog here!

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post #3 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-07-11, 10:01 PM
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Sounds like fun... But no Star Wars? Damn...

[Flerden] 9:05 pm: Why the hell can't he just go offline if he goes to watc tv?
[dark angel] 9:06 pm: It is Doelago, we will never know
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post #4 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-07-11, 11:01 PM
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wait how do you write thirst as a theme?
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post #5 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-08-11, 04:17 PM
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I guess I'll put forward the first entry then, like last time. I decided to write a vampire story after recently reading the Ulrika the Vampire novel, and numerous Vampire works on this forum, which mostly I enjoyed. Also, this is my first WHF piece ever, so you have been warned. Now, without further ado, here we go:

~ Night of the Hunter ~
A Warhammer Fantasy Short Story
1004 words

Middenheim, the Year 2502

‘It is a dark night’, thought Asmeth, as the vampire made his way across the buildings of the city of the white wolf, or so the humans called it. He didn’t really care what they called it however, as long as he got what he wanted. As he leapt from one building to the next, he could feel himself closing in on his prey.

The Vampire advanced, taking great care whenever he saw watchmen in the streets below, or atop the buildings, for to alert one now would to condemn his mission to failure, and not just mean his downfall, but also increased tension in Middenheim, which could potentially mean that his fellow vampires, or at least those still in the city of the white wolf, would be discovered.

And that, Asmeth really didn’t want to happen. The dark figure was still unnoticed by the humans below, but as the undead man made his way closer to his prey, the amount of guards increased, forcing him to move slower, even though he was leaping across the rooftops of the city.

Because, if one of them decided to look up, that would mean he would be discovered, and would have to act very quickly before more guards appeared. Suddenly, Asmeth stopped, teetering on the edge of a building.

‘Well, that complicates things’; the Vampire grimaced, stepping back cautiously to avoid being sighted. Crouching down, Asmeth took a closer look at what he had encountered, and what was too stalking through the shadows below him. Beneath his dark, black cloak, the being that had once been human could easily pick out the figure amongst the few normal men and women still out at this late time, he noticed a pale, blonde haired figure hiding behind a cluster of small barrels, his eyes fixed on a small band of night-watchmen, armed with swords and torches. They were wearing the blue colour of their troops, and were laughing loudly. However, they didn’t worry Asmeth.

The other vampire worried him more, a one newly inducted into the bloodline, carless, violent and eager for blood. Asmeth didn’t know why Qu’meck, the elderly vampire who had taught both the young one and him the ways of the undead, had let this inexperienced hunter of his leash in the middle of a city full of humans. “So, Leros,” Asmeth whispered under his breath. “You wish to hunt the hunter.”

“That he does, Asmeth,” said a cold, elderly voice behind him. Asmeth spun around, and found himself face-to-face with a third creature of the night, his mentor Qu’meck stood there with a grim smile on his face. “And, you are also seeking this notorious Witch Hunter, are you not?”

“How did you know, my friend?” Asmeth whispered, as they retreated from the edge of the rooftops as the patrol passed by Leros, not taking any notice of him.

“Well, you have always had a fascination for high buildings, have you not?” Qu’meck responded. “Come now, Asmeth, let us see how good Leros really is.”


Down in the still-crowded streets of Middenheim, Leros Von Schierber watched the blue coated soldiers advance through the streets, bitterly wishing to lunge out here and now, and bring them all down in one swift stroke.

However, he resisted the urge, as the young Vampire knew that he could not take out the patrol all at once. A quick glance above him informed Leros that he was being tailed, and he already knew whom. It seemed Asmeth, and his master had taken to following him, but doubted they would come to his aid.

They were here to observe him, and to watch him. This was part of his training.

When the patrol had passed, Leros sprinted down the road, still being tailed by Qu’meck and Asmeth from the rooftops, keeping an eye on his every move as he prowled through small packs of people, one after the other.

And then, the creature of the night saw his prey, standing there, out in the open. The Witch Hunter, who had butchered several of his brethren in Nuln, including his brother, accusing him of being a vampire when it was actually Leros that had forsaken his humanity. Wincing at the memory, Leros brushed it aside, even as the screams of his twin echoed in his ears, praying for Sigmar’s mercy.

However, Sigmar’s mercy never came, and Leros’ brother had died. A bitter hatred grew in Leros that day, and ever since, he had been tracking his quarry. And now, the vampire smiled, licking his lips with growing anticipation.

All it took would be one blow, just one, and Damion Von Schierber’s death would be avenged. However, suddenly, there was a hand placed on the back of Leros’ shoulder.

“Not yet, young one,” Qu’meck’s voice was quiet, yet Leros could hear it plainly. Careful not to make any rash moves, Leros took a moment before he replied.

“How long have you been watching me, master?”

“Since the last patrol,” smiled Qu’meck. “You learn well. Now, as a reward, I will let you have your prey. You shouldn’t have left without consulting me, however. All it takes is just one slip up, just one.”

“I am truly sorry, master,” responded Leros, and then, “Why is Asmeth here?”

“To give you a challenge, Leros,” Qu’meck grinned. “And I suggest you hurry up, Asmeth is already taking his position.”

With a quick glance up to the small building next to the Witch Hunter’s place of residence, Leros swore as he noticed his rival rip out a windowpane, and hurl himself through. “You distracted me, Master,” he smiled, and took off, heading towards the Witch Hunter, who had got up from his resting place and was opening the door on his house.

Qu’meck sat back, and observed both of his trained vampires, dash into the house of the hunter. He smiled, and knowing that time would reveal the outcome, he turned and departed the scene, the smile not leaving his face.


Hope you enjoyed, Bane of Kings Out.
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post #6 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-13-11, 11:30 PM
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Pleasure Palace


A town called Edens Doorway.

Apt name for an apt region. The Town was set against a breath taking beauty of untouched hills and skies as blue as the ocean that hadn't been raped by the mechanicum and Imperiums ever hungry need for resources,

“Shore leave boys and girls, Make the most of it, we are here until we are moved on elsewhere”

Commander Derax had a good smile and she cared about her unit, She didn't much care about anything else and I would sometimes wonder how she had come to be so syncial. It only took me three years to realise that the only glory that awaited me was a mud pit somewhere on some world that no one really cared about.

Or, Like Renae, buried in a burnt out husk of a tank or rhino somewhere.

Derax might have been pretty once, in fact I am sure of it but whilst her face showed a youthfulness about her that had some of the men giving her sly glances; her eyes told a different tale.

One that I would come to know very soon.

Heavens gate was her world of choice for shore leave and, every couple of years she would come here with her unit for some much needed R and R.

I must admit I could see the attraction. There was not one sight of a war machine guarding some Imperial installation. The sounds of the dead or the dying did not invade the air, in fact the only sound that invaded the air was the sweetest sound of bird song.

As I moved round the town, breathing in clean untainted air I noticed that there was nothing remotely Imperial about this world and there were no statues to the God-Emperor anywhere.

When I asked Havlin, Derax's trusted second why this was so, he just said that this was a world of pleasure and such things should not be seen by the Emperor, in case it corrupted his purity.

I shrugged a little but I didn't believe it all I mean, if the Emperor watched over us all ever day then he is gonna see the real true sights that human nature had to offer. So seeing two humans rutting was not going to bother him in the slightest when he had probably just seen a woman gang raped by renegades or a man blown to pieces cause he trod on something that looked like grok crap only to discover it wasn't.

“Just enjoy yourself Corporal, that's what the Commander wants. We are here for a while.”

He motioned to a building at the end of the street and with a smile on his face walked off in the other direction,

I liked Havlin, you knew where you stood with him and I discovered he came from my fathers home community back on Renate.

I lit a I-Ho stick and stood looking at the buildings around me.

There were bars, restaurants and I am certain that the house at the end of the street was a whore house.

I was going to discover that it was much much more then that.

The house was nothing remarkable on the outside, just like a large town house except white washed to beat off the midday sun's heat but inside, one inside it all changed.

The colours were so garish and random that it hurt my eyes to look at them for long but the smell of hashish and other substances was strong and made my head swim. As I took in more of the surroundings I noticed her for the first time and she was coming towards me,

She was Voluptuous and no words could truly describe how my heart beat in time with her sway. Her hair was a riot of colours and her purple eyes were flexed gold. As she took my hand she led me past a room that had bodies entwined with bodies.

Men and women having noisy and very energetic sex whilst involved in other games with other couples and centre of the pile was my commander and her face was pure ecstasy.

I hardly noticed that her uniform was now devoid of any and all imperial insignia.

I was led up a old wooden winding staircase and into a room that had satin and silk bedsheets with big silk pillows. The woman whose name was Deandre gave me a bong to smoke and told me to take a long and deep inhale.

Each inhale was longer then the first and after each inhale she would perform acts on me that no woman had ever performed on me.

By the time I had taken the thirteenth toke I saw a face so beautiful appear in the room with us I wanted him or was it a she? I was not too sure.

I raised my head for a better look but Deandre lay my head gently down and told me the master wanted to observe and give his blessing.

What could I say, as I started making love to her this walking angel was whispering in my ear, showing me how to pleasure her better and their hand upon my skin drove me beyound anything I had ever known.

Deandres nails racked down my back only serving to drive me to acts even more amazing then the last and with each bout the god – for only a god could look that beautiful – would tell me that this is what his warriors were about.

That the corpse I had been serving could offer me nothing like this except an eternity of slavery and death. With this god I could have all I wanted all the pleasure I wanted and all the sensations that came with it.

When I finally slept my dreams were filled with the brightest sounds and colours and Deandre would attend me once more. By the time I came fully to my senses I was alone and sweating from my excursions.

I took another hit of the drug and pledged my soul to the beauteous god who said his name was Slaanesh.

Word count: 1029
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post #7 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-14-11, 03:12 AM Thread Starter
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Originally Posted by jaggedjaw View Post
wait how do you write thirst as a theme?
However you deem fit!

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

Originally Posted by spanner94ezekiel View Post
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 #8 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-19-11, 09:44 PM
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shut yer yap before i clober ya wit me chopa

word count:922

Oi listen up ya grotz an' yoofs cause ise gots me a good storie ta tell ya. Wat's its called? It's called shut yer yap before i clober ya wit me chopa now quite. Once a long time ago dere was dis ork who was a warboss. LET ME FINISH SETIN DA STORY BEFORE YA INTERUPT ME AGAN YA GITZ!

Now were was I? Oh ya, once a long time ago dere was dis ork who was a warboss who rela luved to fight. An' when I say dat I don't mean dat its bad, its just he rela RELA luved ta fight. Well anyways he was fightin' some chaos boyz and he rela like fightin dem. YES DEYS DA SAME CHAOS BOYZ WE FIGHTIN NOW NOW CRAM IT!

Now den 'e eventualy managed ta fight deys boss an' he killed him 'oweva after dat he was neva da same. He began saying strange thingas no normal ork would say like "HELP IM BEING POSEED BY A DEMI BOY" and we 'ad no reasson to figa out why he did that. He also began ta do weird things like takeing the skulls of 'is enemies, bathin in dere blood, and bathin in general. Eventualy 'e began ta lead WAAAGH!!!s that would result in all 'is followas dead an' then they made up 'is bath wata. WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?

WHY WON'T YA JUST SHUT UP AN' STOP ASKIN SHUCH STUPID AND GROT LIKE QUESTIONS YA SQUIG? Now were was I? GREAT I LOST ME PLACE AN ILL HAVE TA START ALL OVA AGAIN YA GITZ! Once a long time ago dere was dis ork who was a warboss who rela luved to fight. At Da same time he was fightin' some chaos boyz and he rela like fightin dem.

Now den 'e eventualy managed ta fight deys boss an' he killed him 'oweva after dat he was neva da same. He began saying strange thingas no normal ork would say like "HELP IM BEING POSEED BY A DEMI BOY" and we 'ad no reasson to figa out why he did that. He also began ta do weird things like takeing the skulls of 'is enemies, bathin in dere blood, and bathin in general. Eventualy 'e began ta lead WAAAGH!!!s that would result in all 'is followas dead an' then they made up 'is bath wata. An' 'e also began forcin some strange changes on us boyz.

Some of da changes was mina onez an' we din't mind haveing them like 'aving ta take da skulls of da enemis. But some of da otha ones was just to weird for us boyz. Most of dem were like how we had to respect some of da chaos boyz who wandaded inta camp. HOW DA GORK SHOULD I KNOW WAT DEY'S WAS DOING DERE NOW SHUT YA TRAP! 'oweva all of those mina changes was nothin' compared to da big 'un.

'un day wes all crawl outa bed ta descova dat all da idols o' Gork AN' Mork 'ad been crashed ta da floor and all o' dem had dere heads choped off deys did. In addition ta dat almost all o' da nobs 'ad been murdad during da night and also 'ad dere 'eads choped off. An' deys was chaos boyz evera were and dey forced us ta go ta a main arera outside o' da camp. WE LISTENED TA DEM BECAUSE WE DIN"T KNOW DAT DEYS WAS CHAOS BOYZ AT DA TIME YA ZOGGER! Eva way what we saw in da main arera was a blasphamy beyond all o' us wildyest drems.

'e 'ad torn down and melted all our stompas and made a rella huge fing dat looked kinda werd an i cant rella explain it. 'e was also red now and 'ad some 'orns growin out da top of his 'ead like the pain boy wurked on him or somethin. eva way he was flanked by some of da chaos speesh mahines and 'e began talkin to us in a rella unorky like voice. Long storie short 'e promised us da biggest an' badest WAAAGH!! eva an' all we 'ad to do was worship korn an fersake gork and mork. So we killed 'em all.

It was aboot dat time dat da boss began ta explode and then there was a giant demi-boy were 'e was an' then all da pieces fell togheta, da boss was neva an ork in da furst place he was rella a chaos boy 'ho managed ta pertend ta be an ork cause 'e knew dat orks was betta den de otha races. So we killled 'im. Becasue i dont know of any ork who would want ta werk for da chaos boyz cause den we'd have ta give up gork an' mork. Afta' we killed da demi-boy da chaos boyz ran away wit dere tails between dere legs and fer da ones witout tails dey just ran like a grot. Course wen dey started runnin us boyz went in dere ta chop dem up.


I hope you enjoyed shut yer yap before i clober ya wit me chopa
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post #9 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-20-11, 05:43 PM Thread Starter
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Great entries so far! As an update, Commissar Ploss has agreed to start featuring the winners in The Heretic, so let's get writing!

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

Originally Posted by spanner94ezekiel View Post
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post #10 of 19 (permalink) Old 02-21-11, 12:14 AM
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Ooh, this seems fun- you'll probably be seeing me in the future. I don't want to spell out the contents of the story and ruin the point of it, but let's just say I'm expanding upon curious fluff left unexplored.

A Wretched Silence Examined

A Warhammer 40,000 short story, 1000 words right on the dot

You can never comprehend. You will never know what I have tried so hard to forget.

I speak to you now in the body, the rippling surge of matter against matter. My eyes cannot speak for me. My mouth does not move. Only this occupation of space, this metal skeleton can create any expression. The expressions found within the flesh; the gashes, lacerations, gaping holes and carved skin.

You will never know what I feel, what I have spoken; the same words we sowed across Oblivion eons ago. Those words have blossomed into essence upon the universe it sprouted from. Hatred. Weakness. Pain. Genocide. Since the beginning we have thirsted for so much more then what we were. We hungered for that just barely beyond our grasp. We would never have made it this far had we not been gorged on that which one can only find at the bottom.

Hatred kept our will alive. When all else failed to make our blood surge with purpose, it nurtured us and weaned us like a twisted mother.

Weakness kept our ambition alive. The shame that dwelled within, the guilt of unfulfilled destiny brought us forward, one foot after another.

Pain kept our bodies alive. It was our discipline, the reminder of our failures and that we were still alive, if only barely by its fickle definitions.

Genocide kept our race alive. It unified us under one desire. If we couldn’t overcome our fate, Genocide would allow us to drag everyone else down to our level for company of misery.

Yet I know you do not understand this. You do not understand that which I unceasingly try to show each of you as I reach out for you. I understand that no amount of blood spilled and bones broken can ever convey a tangible idea, a message that may be understood universally. Yet I try anyway if only to justify my actions, no matter how weak it really is.

Some things cannot be understood, much like what I desperately try to convey. They have taught your kind that death is a blessing…But for all the wrong reasons. In the end, everything is supposed to die. No matter how briefly or no matter how long, everything dies. Time itself is the only permanent, yet it dares not mingle with the abominations we have become. I am neither alive, nor am I free from the confines of the material plain.

I have become Death Itself. That thin scythed blade that serves as the dividing line between the trillions alive and the innumerable dead. My brethren have been It for so long that they no longer even think of it, let alone anything else. Days slipped into months and months into years. Years became centuries and centuries became seconds. Even the seemingly immortal aspect of time has faded from my comprehension altogether. My condemnation and the agony of its burden will never end for time has lost all meaning. I am the referee between life and death, constantly judging but alone and unable to take part in either role ever again. My brothers have suffered likewise, but I still envy them.

They have lost all drive, all meaning, all awareness. They are no longer even the echoes of the ancient hatred that sill resonates within their empty sockets. Only I remain, and only I know that I lead them to become these pitiful husks. I envy them, if they can even be thought of as entities any longer. I envy their liberation from the self imposed definitions of this universe.

They are just grisly toys. But at least they will never know how far they have fallen; how much they’ve let their ancestors down when they once promised them they knew how to save them from pain and suffering. I was not so lucky. I trudge on alongside them, leading them forward into the eternal harvest.

They may never be sentient again and thus never hold judgment, but that which I hold upon myself is enough. The doom of my entire race sags against these tired metal shoulders. It slowly but patiently erodes my conscience, my dignity, my once impenetrable denial. Like damnable waves it seeps its way into every corner, every crevice and every hollow of my being. That which Time itself cannot physically wear down, this Guilt does for it.

Perhaps your leader feels just like I do as this legion’s master. We both had our thirsting to stand above all else. We fought long and hard, just to be trapped within this material prison and forever be unable to escape it. Ambition has given away to the stagnation of eternity, and to fully understand that it has no end is to abandon hope. We both watch over our kind, desperate to save them from the mindless slavery they have willingly undertaken. Yet we are no longer truly your masters. Rather, we are merely sad reminders of our races undertakings. We have taken different roads and used different methods to reach the same destination at different times.

It may be impossible to win that pointless mortal game, yes. I once took my role in it but knew not what I had. What we had. We had an experience and we cared not for it but the destination at its end.

You see me loom before you and know Death. It’s a gift that I may give but will never receive no matter how many times I am struck. All that thirst so long ago was sated and was never enough. It’s simpler than ever before yet all but impossible. All I want now, after so much, is to scream. I just want to scream one last time. I know I have lost. I know I can never be freed from what I have forged for myself. I just want to let it all out before I continue about my impossible task.

I just want to scream.

I can’t.

Yours will have to do.
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