Brother Errata

Coming soon

Antoine wrote:Coming soon

Arrgghh you dick!

if you spent more time writing instead of devoting facebook groups to your lover boy, you'd have something posted by now!

hahahahahahah get back to your daughter, oh and join the group

It was within the power of a codicier of the libraricus, to not only narrate a story but to show it in the minds of those that are willing to receive. A small intrusive probe which surfaced upon the targets subconscious, as if watching a dream play backwards.
Rembrancer O’Dean was experiencing just that, at the time of this recording.
He was hot, not uncomfortably so, but a single minute ago his surroundings were that of a sparse and ordinary crew quarter. If a marines dwelling could be called ordinary in any way, In O’Deans experience each marine he had met had there own specific quirks, these, in there own peculiar way manifested themselves in different ways. Whether they were battle honours, gifted for servitude under fire or crude symbols of war that hung from the belt, kills that should be honoured and remembered.
A thin layer of perspiration had settled over O’Deans brow, he was hot now, bordering on uncomfortable, his lower back, shins and under his arms felt moist to the touch, was he dreaming? Kind of…
But it wasn’t his dream, but rather Erratas remembrance, the lingering sense of a past lost to never ending war.

Oblitarax was its founding name, but after the affairs of Waaaargh Zapp Toof the imperium only knew it as ‘the ghost world, and with good providence, the war of Oblitarax was hard fought over a campaign of many grueling winters.

‘The ghost world’ was named due to its strange goings on, the world was not a fortified world, save for one imperial bastion named ‘The Sanguine’ in the heart of a baron and rocky outstretch of dust and sand. An area of little variation that could see for miles upon miles, but with this strength came its only weakness. It too, could be seen for miles and miles. With that thought in mind Errata could only sense one rational answer.
Why not!
After all, marines do not cower, they do not fear the enemy, they all but welcome death as an every day occurrence, cheating or besting death with each breath they take, with each stroke of there mighty chains-words and each round of there sturdy bolters. no matter what form or purpose invaders have in mind, the marines welcome but another chance to rend there foes asunder.

This would not be the case for ‘The Sanguine’ for Zapp Toofs waaaargh came too quick and without warning, although the bastion took great damage from orbital weaponry its void shields took the brunt… but nothing on ‘the ghost world’ could have saved it from the hulk that crashed directly through the most southern tip of the fortress, ultimately collapsing the void shield and clearing the path for the onslaught to arise anew.

The extraction plan was not greatly executed, whether by incongruous fluke or preposterous accuracy the hulk came upon the defenders within a heart beat, turning there stoic defence into an all out tactical withdrawal, but to where was any commanders guess, there was no high ground to take up a fighting stance, no obvious rocky outcrop where as the defender had the advantage, so the marines made the decision and pushed north. The plan of retreat was as simple minded as the ork attack. Retreat in numbers, then splinter groups would retract from the main cell and spearhead ambushes on the advancing orks, it was no easy task, for the waaaaargh came on relentless.

For 54 days and nights the main cell moved. Each day would start like the tide, water crashing upon rocks and like the dawn of ages the tide was unyielding and the rocks smoothened, but this evolutionary process was happening at a much faster pace, with each tide, came the death of another of the emperors finest, the hardest dawn to bear came on the 7th morn, when 82 marines were felled in a single onrush of speed freakes, mekboys and weirds.
The marines found that a disturbing foe to contend with, encircled by the speed freakes, constantly abashed form the sky from un-weildy Deff-Kopters and pinned by the weirds magi The stoic marines held firm, breaking the tide upon themselves, they utterly decimated the speed freaks in a daring faint, the cell broke on both sides similtariously, as if routing from the encirclement, the speed freakes took the bait, rushing straight toward the marines in a furry and delight that surpassed insanity, but the marines held firm to there faint and encircled back upon themselves, creating two small circles that began northwards and then back in the center from whence they came, ultimately trapping the crazed and over enthused ork bikers in a brutal and crushing cross fire.

Once the marines found themselves unpinned they pushed upon the heart of the weirds attack crushing there foes under there boots, then like a shadow unwelcomed at night they were gone, retreating ever northward, leaving there dead. What gene seeds that could be saved were securely locked away, those that could not be extracted were forever mourned.
It was decided that evening that the cell could never be pinned again, thus the ambush factions came into place and went from the defensive stance to the offensive, keeping there foe at bay and never truly tasting the strength of numbers again. This tactic did not come without its own perils, ambushing strike teams were often the target for fighters and bombers alike, not having the aerial prowess of the main force to support against this new threat, the splinter cells had to weather the storms as best they could.

Errata entered his APC that the marines colloquially called a Rhino, there scout reconnaissance troops had discovered an odd tempest emanating from a far stretched part of the orks eastern line, the ambushing forces had not reached that far abroad and certainly not that deep, but Errata had a deepening sense of foreboding and hitched a ride with the ambushing forces next sweep, with all intentions to get a better look at this ‘Storm’.

Upon first glance the storm was a putrid, sickly green which seemed to emanate 100 feet in the air and hang like thick smog, swirls of deep unforgiving purple weaved in and amongst the smog like evil spirits on the prowl.
Whether a design of the orks or not, the lines separated from each other clearing the area around the storm like a ghastly stench, although what could reek more than a 8 foot muscle bound, sweat soaked beast that had never purposefully bathed in its entire hate filled life was any ones guess.

Orks in such great numbers could be smelt for miles and miles before seen in the flesh, but this never belied the where a bouts of the green monstrosities. The plumes of smoke from there engines were generally the first tell tale sign of there movements.
Errata picked up another smell, not an earthly smell, not an orky smell, Errata’s heightened senses were filled to bursting, every pore of his being filled with its stench
‘holy father of terror’
Then, Errata had his first true glimpse of it, his eyes closed, yet it filled his view with its formidable hulk, the smog had been so thick the marines could not see through it, one great earth shake after another.
Marines did not know fear, not that of mortal men, but each man in the group was a gasp at the sight before him.
With Errata’s eyes closed his every sense felt the earth move
“they call it a weird gargant”, pronounced Errata,
“there is nothing we possess that could take down such a titan, we must retreat back to the column, they must know what we have witnessed here, for we have no hope in defeating such a thing” gasped one of the younger of the initiate scouts in the ambushing party,
“we have but one hope, a fools hope” stated Errata defiantly.

The gargants mighty lifta droppa turned to face the withdrawing marines, its power overly simplified, but with deadly effect. The arm was magnificent as it trembled into being, arcs of terrible silver lightening coursed through the arm into a colossal ball of luminescent light, caught in-between the pincer like grip of the golden arm.

The marines fled as fast as there armoured personnel carriers could take them, there engines seemingly bursting at the seems, then came the mighty CRACK, as the air particles around the gargants giant pincers were instantaneously vaporised in a nano second. The rhinos came to a bone jarring halt while simultaneously defying the laws of gravity and rising from the earth, the marines inside suffered g-forces of outstanding magnitude, to be stopped mid flight and raised from the gravitational pull of the gigantic sand strewn earth they called Oblitatax was certainly not to bode well.

The true energy had not been released, instead the sickly purple haze above the gargant started to strike the ball of incandescent light with strikes of ailing purple hued lightening of its own, gobbets of corrosive green ooze started to fall onto the gargant, most however were attracted to the terrifying ball of energy still within the gargants claw, as if the swirls and lightening had a gravity of there own.

Then, as if the very sound was sucked out of the marines ears a deafening silence took over the entire force, a second later and the sound came back ten fold, and with it came a deep, deafening screech. The marines were dropped from there temporary stasis of mid air flight and came crashing down to oblitorax with all the speed the worlds gravitational power could muster, wrecking the rhino ambush cohort in a single and foul swoop.
The ball of glowing energy behind them swallowed the clouds above it, in a swirl of tremendous gravitational void
The gargant lifted into the air just as the marines transports had but seconds before, the outer shell buckling under the extreme pressures of its own demise, then, like a tin can the gargant gave a all-mighty crunch as the pressure over came its structural integrity, The gargants death shrieks were deafening, like the sound of rusted sheet metal being slowly scraped upon gravel with an unimaginable force, the buckling slabs of metal each had there own decipherable pitch as, under the extreme pressures they buckled in on themselves slowly twisting and contorting itself into a ever so solid form. Compressing metal upon metal till the crunch slowly tuned itself into a low whine and the gargant was a floating piece of scrap.

At this, the orks had stopped cheering and clapping, many if not all of the orks around had never seen such a powerful weapon discharge and had not known the peril they were under, until it was far too late. With there beady incomprehensible eyes they were blinded by the flash instantaneously, howls and hoots of a different magnitude came from the savage larynx’s of the enemy, from howls of praise and bewilderment now came screeches of pain and anger, thousands died in the initial shock wave that was released from the gravity well as it disintegrated under its own power, sucking in too many particles to sustain itself the miniature black hole exploded out of existence, gouging itself full.

There had always been a thick smog of psychic commotion since the orks had first arrived, like bad static combined with terribly trained guardsmen using a thousand vox channels simultaneously for fun… that had all stopped. There was nothing but the eyrie edge of calm.


The age old story of un-numorous foes against a select few, a tidal wave of in-summountable force that could only be stemmed for but a second before all was consumed in its roiling fury.
For an astrate, a second was life or death, a second was all that was needed, a mortal man would blink a second away without re-course, but astrates revelled in the decisive aptitude which rose them above all others, in that second the rhino crashed upon the earth of oblitorax, Errata clipped his release harness and with every ounce of his augmented muscles kicked the buckled door of the rhino open from the inside, the door crashed open, its hinges destroyed under the pure power of the astrates raw clout.

The psychic back lash was enough to knock Errata off his feet, the on-rush of densely charged particles, crashed into his bulk the second he leapt from the rhino in such a force that he found himself crashing back into the remains of the downed rhino, to his left there was a rhino that seemed to have weathered the gargants misfire, the APC’s armour was robust and its track wide, easily the width of a guardsman’s forearm, built to last, built to serve was what was etched into its sturdy side.
A Rhino was what they were named, they were Trojan war horses of old terra, never yielding in there un-ending service to the emperor of mankind.
Built to transport the Emperors elite into the heart of any battle field, three separate exit points, rear and sides, aiding the marines to disembark and unleash there holy torrent of retribution and cleansing to each and all enemies of mankind.

Ill be honest is just dont get it .

Maybe im too simple but ive read it twice now and im just not sure what your chara is ment to have done other than run away in a rhino?

Its background... your not meant to have 'done' anything in paticular... and if you can actually read, he hasnt even ran away in the rhino! ()yet)!

You Scouse JEW