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Welcome to the year's ninth

For those of you that are unfamiliar with HOES, 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. Each and every member of Heresy Online is more than welcome to compete, whether your entry is your first post or your thousandth. We welcome everyone to join the family of the Fan Fiction Forum.

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, totalled 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 and be awarded the Lexicanum's Crest award for Fiction excellence!


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 Boc with your ideas/proposals, especially given that his creative juices may flow a bit differently than yours. All we ask is that you PM Boc 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 this 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 Boc with what you have and he'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 (and likely some responses in the competition thread) if you 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). Keep in mind, comments are more than welcome! If you catch grammar or spelling errors, the writers are all more than free to edit their piece up until the close of the competition, and that final work will be the one considered for voting. Sharing your thoughts with the writers as they come up with their works is a great way to help us, as a FanFiction community, grow as a whole.

The deadline for entries is Midnight US Eastern Standard Time
(-5.00 hours for you UK folks) 5th October, 2013. Voting will be held from 6th-12th October. Remember, getting your story submitted on 5th October will be just as considered by others as one submitted on 16th September! Take as much time as you need to work on your piece!

Additional Incentive
If simply being victorious over your comrades is not enough to possess you to write a story, there will be rep rewards granted to those that participate in the HOES Challenge.

Participation - 1 reputation points, everyone will receive this
3rd place - 2 reputation points
2nd place - 3 reputation points
1st place - 4 reputation points and Lexicanum's Crest

If you have any questions, feel free to ask in this thread.

Without further nonsense from me, let the writing begin!

Table of Contents


91 Posts
I'm in for this one. It's an ironic theme, as I am struggling with delays which I create myself.

328 Posts
This theme actually fits in with a bit of short fluff I'd put together for one of the embellishments on one of my latest models.

They found the Minotaurs sergeant lying near a tangle of mutilated bodies.
It had been a vicious and brutal close quarters fight. Stretched out around
the large dugout were the bodies of Night Lords renegades and cultists alike.
Inside the fighting position itself, the ground was a mess of severed limbs,
rent bodies, and spilled innards. Though his helmet's filters kept out the
smell, Veteran Marcus knew it must be awful. Discarded and empty weapons
lay strewn about, suggesting that the final confrontation had been a
whirlwind of blades and rifle butts. Three of the Minotaur's battle brothers
lay unmoving amidst the carnage. Apothecary Tulio knelt down to check
them for vitals. His vox silence told Marcus everything he needed to know.

The sergeant stirred, looking up at them. Marcus turned back to Tulio and
motioned with his head. “Get him on his feet.” Tulio worked diligently,
patching his narthecium into the suit's receptors, and working to identify the
sergeant's most grievous wounds and push the proper stims to render him
combat effective. Tulio was feeding the Minotaur's suit vitals to Marcus over
the squad comms. The physiology of a Space Marine was extremely resilient,
but it would still take some weeks before he would be at 100%. However,
within a few minutes, Tulio was helping the Minotaur up, his system pumped
full of combat drugs.

From behind his helmet, the Minotaur's voice projected from the vox emitter.
“Thank you brothers.”

The Invectors stood silent. The Minotaur continued. “I am Veteran Sergeant
Korragos. I am in your debt. Let me join you in taking the fight to what's left of
this rabble.” He moved to retrieve a bolter that was lying amidst the bodies,
but was stopped by Veteran Kester. He attempted to move around the
Invector, who moved again to block him.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Minotaur's voice was inflected with a
simmering rage.

Marcus looked to his closest battle brother. “Arctos. Your blade.” Arctos drew
the short sword which was clamped to his pack behind his left shoulder, and
tossed it to Korragos, who caught it reflexively. Marcus turned to Tulio, calmly
handing him his boltgun, and then his bolt pistol. He then turned back to
Korragos, and drew his own blade. The other Marines stepped backwards to
form a ring around the two combatants.

“Traitors.” The Minotaur hefted the blade, assuming a fighting stance. Marcus
dropped into one of his own, but said nothing in reply. The two began to circle.
Korragos lunged, expertly striking at Marcus, who just as expertly parried the
attacks and moved out of the way. Korragos whirled back around.

“I will cut both of your hearts out.” The Minotaur struck at Marcus again, who
again deflected the blows, before delivering a short kick to his opponent's
thigh, staggering him. Korragos brought the combat blade around in a
sweeping arc, but Marcus was already gone.

They clashed again, Marcus catching the Minotaur's blade, and sliding it flat
to lock them guard to guard. The Minotaur tried to loop an overhand punch
at his helmet, but Marcus stepped back, sweeping around and the punch
landed flush against his power pack with a dull thud. Marcus shifted his arm
up to catch the fist between his collar and the pauldron before the Minotaur
could retract it. Taking advantage of Korragos's momentary surprise, Marcus
threw an elbow which rebounded off of the Minotaur's helmet, before
Korragos was able to wrench his fist free and separate himself. The Minotaur
was slow. This was almost too easy. Almost.

Korragos wasn't done yet though. “What did the dark gods promise you?
What did it take to turn your back on your vows, your brothers, and your
Emperor, traitor?” The Minotaur swung at him again, but he was a fraction too
slow, and Marcus moved inside the strike, catching it forearm to forearm.
The Invector drove two quick, short fists into Korragos's helmeted face, rocking
his head back. The Minotaur staggered, and Marcus kicked his legs out from
under him. The Minotaur dropped hard, but recovered quickly, rolling to avoid
a downward strike that never came. Instead, Marcus simply watched him roll
away and come up to one knee defensively. Realizing there was no follow-on
attack coming, Korragos stood. But he seemed to know he was fading.

“If I were not so gravely wounded, I would destroy you, coward. Your victory is
tainted and-”

“I've given you every chance you gave the Inceptors at Euxcine.”

The Minotaur said nothing, but the slightest flinch betrayed recognition. For
a few moments, the two Space Marines stood silently. Suddenly, the Minotaur
whirled, bringing his blade down on Kester. But the Invector veteran was
faster, deflecting the strike with his boltgun, and kicking at Korragos, who
leaped backwards out of the way.

In a sweeping cut, Marcus hacked through the soft armor behind the Minotaur's
right knee, severing the posterior ligaments. Korragos staggered, falling to a
knee, and Marcus looped the sword back around and down onto his wrist. The
blade bit deep into the Minotaur sergeant's flesh and bone, and he dropped
his weapon. Marcus gripped the Minotaur's pack with his left hand, wrenching
him around violently. The Invector struck him on the forehead with the pommel
of the blade, and delivered a kick that sent Korragos to sprawl on his back.

With a sweep of his boot, Marcus kicked the Minotaur's borrowed blade aside,
where it was picked up by Maro. Marcus walked over to Tulio, and retrieved
his bolt pistol. He turned back to where Korragos was sitting, having pushed
himself up with his one good hand. Their duel had trampled bodies and
entrails into the dirt, churning parts of it into a foul reddish brown paste which
now streaked the fallen Minotaur's armor.

Without a word, Marcus shot him in the neck. The bolt round punched through
the layered mesh of the soft armor, and into the Minotaur's throat, where it
detonated, pulping the airway and fracturing his spine. The Invector
re-holstered the stubby pistol as he approached the twitching Minotaur
sergeant. Kneeling down, he carefully disconnected the seals on the bronze
helmet, and lifted it gently off of his head. Korragos was not dead yet, his
superhuman physiology fighting to overcome even such an obviously mortal
injury, and his face was still contorted in rage. Through the dull black lenses
of his helmet, Marcus looked down into the Minotaur's eyes, a vicious smile
hidden behind his scowling faceplate.

“Burn the bodies. All of them. Their genetic legacy ends here.”​

Word Count: 1097

91 Posts
Sorry chaps, I had no time to write my story, although I actually (for the first time ever) planned a story out. Damn shame.

626 Posts
Couldn't come up with much for this theme, so I've decided to wait until the next one. So, is there a process for H.O.E.S. with only one entry, victory by default:)?

579 Posts
Worry is Bad

Worry is Bad

David Hasson thought he could delay the inevitable but he was wrong. The Inquisition had not only seen but were on their way at this very moment. David wished that he were a speck in dirt, beyond anyone’s notice, but as Chief Administrator of the librarious Lex, he was sure that even if he were a speck in the dirt, they would find him. The Inquisition could find anyone at anytime and that was a fact. So what he had failed to see and tried to hide when he did see it would cost him his life. He was under no illusion about that. They were coming and would put a bullet in his brain and really, there was nothing that he could do about it.

David sat on the chair outside the back door to his hab and tried to see past his impending doom. He tried to think of all the wondrous places that he had gone to as a perk to his position. He tried to remember all the beautiful women that he had slept with, another perk to his position. He smiled at the thoughts that came to him, but then frowned when the doom thoughts came back with a slap of reality. There was not enough money in the universe that could save him and he knew this to be true. What had he done that was so wrong to deserve death? He began to sweat even though the evening was cool. He looked up. The stars were bright tonight. They seemed to be just out of reach but he knew that they were as far off as his salvation. He began to tremble. David did not want to die. The very thought of being put to death caused his mind to race, to look for a way of escape. But David knew there would be no escape. There was only one way out and that was a bullet to the head.

David slept in fits and cold sweats. In fact, David did not sleep. He couldn’t sleep because of his worry. They would be at his door in the morning and then everything would end. Everything that he had worked for all his life would be as the fog, here today and gone with the wind. Oh, how he wished that he had done things differently. Oh, how he wished that he could unsee what he had seen. But that was a false wish. There could be no redemption. He had seen what he saw and that was the end of it.

The morning had come too soon. David had not slept at all even though he had lain there in his fine bed all night long. The sheets had been soaked with sweat and when he finally got up he was chill from the cool night air. He showered. If he must die at least he would be clean. Better to meet your death clean, he supposed. There was a knock on the door and David froze. He could barely even put two thoughts together. David’s dog began to bark but David did not get up. He was petrified. Finally the person at the door knocked again and with that, David stood and walked to the door. Each step was like walking though a dream. Every breath felt like he was fighting brutal gravity. Every blink of his eyes felt like crashing waves.

David took hold of the doorknob and took a heavy breath. He turned it slowly and pulled. It took every ounce of strength to pull the door open, but he did it. He had opened the door and was a bought to let death in. The Inquisitor smiled but his eyes seemed to be soulless. His stature was short but strong. His hair was black as a raven’s wing. ‘Won’t you come in.’ David managed to say without too much trepidation in his voice. The Inquisitor stepped through the entrance and looked around. The home was simple yet full of nice things. It was not something that boasted great power but was soothing to the senses. ‘Mr. Hasson. Your home is very beautiful.’ The Inquisitor said with genuine respect. He continued, ‘The morning is nice. I do love the country life. Living outside of the hive must be very relaxing?’ David realized that it was a question, ‘Yes sir. It is very relaxing.’ David had no clue what was happening. He expected a bullet in the head at any moment. ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked. The inquisitor inclined his head. David went to the bar to pour a drink, but the Inquisitor stopped him before he could pour it. ‘Do you have milk?’

Milk. Yes he did have milk. It was rare and expensive, even more expensive than most jewels. David poured the milk for the Inquisitor and handed him the glass. The inquisitor drank it slowly. David stood there in his living room sweating and pale. The shot would come soon. He could feel it. He knew that the Inquisitor did not come all this way for milk. ‘I have something to ask you, Mr. Hasson.’ he said. He sat the empty glass down slowly and gently. The glass on the table. It stood out to David like a burning fire. For some reason David could not see anything else. He focused on it like it was a lifeline. ‘You have recently come in contact with forbidden literature. Do you remember anything of what you have seen?’

There it was. Now he would die. David answered truthfully. ‘Yes sir. I remember every word.’ The Inquisitor nodded and stood up. He reached for a leather pocket and dipped his hand inside. David closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself the best he could, but he was still shaking, almost uncontrollably. ‘Open your eyes Mr. Hasson. You are not going to die today. I need a person that I can count on to be able to remember and interpret meanings for our team. I make an offer to you.’

Years later as David read what before would have surly brought about his death, he smiled. Sometimes the Emperor’s will is better than we could have ever dreamed.

1,042 words

579 Posts
Good job.

Cool story and great picture. I vote for you. It may be late, but Delay was the subject afterall. :grin:
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