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Inspirational Friday 2019: Blessings and Boons (Dec 27)

Inspirational Friday Inspirational Friday 2019

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#126
Trevak Dal

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Yeah those are some cool looking models. I've been in a building and priming frenzy. I've discovered how awesome plastic glue is (I've always used super glue) it makes assembly a lot easier than it was before.

"Our Turn" - Centurion Khârn.

 


#127
Kierdale

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My apologies. Life has been just too busy, and I’ll be away from the internet most of this week.

#128
Scourged

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Unfortunately, we did not see any entries in Inspirational Friday 2019: Warped Mirror

 

Strike two for Inspirational Friday in these past few weeks. We’ve lost our momentum as of late, but I’m sure we’ll recover. Rather than close this topic, I will stick a pin in it. One day, down the road, we will return to this topic and see what inspiration may take us at that time. Until then...

 

And so begins our second challenge of Inspirational Friday 2019: And They Shall Know Fear

The Daemonic and Warp-touched are fueled by emotions. The drives and desires of all sentient beings are what gives birth to the sentience in the Immaterium. And now that the Great Rift has torn across the Imperium, that sentience is now returning to realspace in greater force than ever before. The creation has returned to the creator, come back home to feed on all of our emotions.

 

But none feeds the darkness better than fear. The Cosmic Horrors lurking in the shadows feed off of fear. It empowers them, and enslaves us to them. The more we fear this real world, the more we flee to the Warp. So tell us, then… how best does Chaos inspire fear? In what manner, in what style, for what purpose? Everyone, channel your inner Night Haunter* and explore the depths of pure, terrified fear

 

IF2019: And They Shall Know Fear runs until the All Hallows Day, Nov. 1.

 

And who shall judge this challenge? That decision lies with our current judge, Trevak Dal

 

The winner of shall claim the Octed amulet:

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And the honor of judging the next challenge. 

 

Let us be inspired.

 

*also Scarecrow and Sinestro, for all us DC fans

 

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#129
Kierdale

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I’m not sure how well I can finish it, but I have a piece to post on Friday :)

#130
Kierdale

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To Be Remembered

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#131
Scourged

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Fantastic! Will we have any other takers before the bell chimes this eve?

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#132
Scourged

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Thank you for all for your entries in Inspirational Friday 2019: And They Shall Know Fear

 

Kierdale has brought an end to our drought with To Be Remembered. And I must say, it was a delightful brutal tale. In one of those stories where bad only leads to worse, we see just how bad things can get, and just how fallible our own memories can be. In the end, who will truly be remembered?

 

I hereby close that topic but if anyone has more stories on that theme, at any time, please post them here with a suitable title.

 

And so begins our second challenge of Inspirational Friday 2019: The Primordial Annihilator vs. the Ordo Hereticus

This month will no doubt be a monumental month for many. Here we are, in November (so soon?!), a time when those of us in the States will be sitting down to give thanks. But if we’re all being honest, the entire hobby will be thankful for the long-awaited return of the Adepta Sororitas. The Sisters of Battle will be returning in force, to serve as the militant arm of the Ecclisiarchy and the Ordo Hereticus, bringing bolt shell and purging flame to all those filthy heretics in the Imperium.

 

Wait… filthy heretics…? That’s us! 

 

This month, let us tell stories of Chaos against the forces of the Ordo Hereticus. Though the focus of all will naturally fall to the Sisters, feel free to expand any stories to include the full branch of the Inquisition. Bring us stories of monumental confrontations of the Daughters of the (False) Emperor as they seek to purge us from the galaxy. A fool’s errand, to be sure, but those have never stopped the faithful from trying. Tell us the tales of how those dutiful Sisters will try to bring the Light of the Corpse-God to the domains we control in this new Dark Imperium. 

 

IF2019: The Primordial Annihilator vs. the Ordo Hereticus runs until the 29th of November

 

By default, Kierdale shall claim the Octed amulet for  IF2019: And They Shall Know Fear

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And the honor of judging the next challenge. 

 

Let us be inspired.


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#133
Gederas

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LIGHT BEGETS SHADOW

 

Spoiler

 

There's my entry. While it's for the current one, it could also work with And They Shall Know Fear laugh.png


Edited by Gederas, 14 November 2019 - 02:30 AM.

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#134
Scourged

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A 2-for-1 deal? Even better, Gederas! With any luck, yours will be the first of many stories to come forward this month. Who shall be next, hm? 


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#135
Aothaine

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Just discovered this! I'll be participating! I'll edit this post with my stories as I work on them over the course of the next two weeks! biggrin.png

 

**NOTICE** This story is a little dark. If you find yourself disgusted with it please stop reading. I do not want to upset anyone. But this is something I imagine Chaos would be about and do. It is not fun and games, but dark and insidiously evil. 

 

Awakening

Spoiler

Edited by Aothaine, 15 November 2019 - 01:28 AM.

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#136
Zhaharek

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I have a story I'm working on also, and am eager to post ASAP.
It's good to be back, brothers

Edited by Zhaharek, 17 November 2019 - 07:45 PM.

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#137
Torbenos

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My first time trying this out! Was nice to try and think some about a warband I have planned.

 

The Price of Genius

 

Spoiler


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#138
Scourged

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Very glad to see all of your entries, folks! Our deadline is coming up at the end of the month, so there's still time for anyone still working on an idea. I'm already looking forward to spending my post-holiday relaxation time reading through all of the entries. biggrin.png


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#139
Kierdale

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The Survivor
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#140
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Thank you for all for your entries in Inspirational Friday 2019: The Primordial Annihilator vs. the Ordo Hereticus

 

Gederas delivered to us Light Begets Shadow. This was a treat, as it was a wonderful entry for both our current topic as well as our previous one! A small group of sisters learn - the hard way I might add - what it is that goes bump in the night. On a personal note, the penultimate sentence for this tale was my absolute favorite.

 

Aothaine was next with Awakening. If nothing else, this story serves as a potent reminder to always check on the maintenance of your Gellar Fields. When lost in the Warp, pious faith can only save you for so long. For one unfortunate Sister, she learns the hard way which deity has dominion over her fate, and it may not be the God-Emperor after all… 

 

Torbenos joined our ranks with The Price of Genius. What should have been a simple retrieval mission turns into a fight for their lives - just another day in the life of the Adepta Sororitas. Yet, when it is the Heretic Astartes that bring the fight, lives are quite often forfeit. How much will the Sisters give to protect that which they came for?

 

Lastly, Kierdale gave us The Survivor. To be the lone survivor of a Heretic Astartes assault is almost certainly a curse and not a blessing. Better to die than to be taken prisoner, which is the tortured fate our sole sister finds herself in. This had a fun moment that gave me little hints and vibes of The Last Church as the faithful speaks with the nonbeliever. And such a fun surprise at the end. 

 

I hereby close that topic but if anyone has more stories on that theme, at any time, please post them here with a suitable title.

 

And so begins our second challenge of Inspirational Friday 2019: Blessings and Boons

A season of gift giving is quickly approaching for us all. But as followers of the Dark Gods, many of us are already no strangers to the ‘gifts’ they choose to bestow upon us. That is the bargain, after all - we serve in the Ruinous designs, and they grant us with their boons when they see fit. But that which is a blessing in a God’s eyes is not often viewed the same through those of a mortal…

 

For our topic, tell us of a Gift of Chaos. What form did it take? How was it earned? How and why did your patron God bestow it? And is it truly a gift, or more of a curse? Does your gift help or hinder? Does it raise you higher to the soaring pinnacle of Apotheosis, or is it dragging you down to the pits of Spawndom? 

 

If you’re looking for ideas beyond the obvious of our recent Codeces, I would point you to the old Realm of Chaos books. I know for certain that the list of boons in those books are quite lengthy and descriptive. In addition, though I can’t confirm this myself, I’m sure that Dark Heresy would have some fun ideas, as well as possibly Wrath & Glory

 

IF2019: Blessings and Boons runs until the 27th of December 

And who shall judge this new challenge? That decision lies with our current judge, Kierdale

 

The winner of IF2019: The Primordial Annihilator vs. the Ordo Hereticus shall claim the Octed amulet:

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And the honor of judging the next challenge. 

 

Let us be inspired.

 

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#141
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As a bit of an administrative note...

 

This topic will be the final one for 2019. As with the previous one, I felt that a full month would be a smart decision, given how busy  so many of us will undoubtedly be for the next month. Then once the new year begins, we'll start it off right with a new Inspirational Friday 2020 thread. I look forward to seeing you all there.

 

Also, let me take a second to offer a MASSIVE thank you to all you wonderful heretics who have contributed over the past year. It's been both an honor and a load of fun continuing this traditional thread here on B&C. Reading through all of your stories every few weeks is always a treat. I'd like to offer an early resolution and say that I'll be contributing more prose of my own next year, but we shall see how the Winds of Fate blow. 

 

Lastly, if any of you have ideas for future IF topics, let me know! I've got a list of ideas I'm still working from, and always try to keep adding to it. Any ideas that you all have for stories you'd like to tell are always welcome. And, if there are any topics from the past you'd like to revisit - especially for any such topics that sadly did not see entries - I think that'd great idea too. There's already a few from the years past I have my eye on. 

 

Once again, thank you all, and let us continue to be inspired. 


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#142
Aothaine

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** Work in Progress **

 

Hopefully I'll get this one finished lol! Still working on fixing my last story. Already have a good idea what I want to do here though. I'll update this post as I start to get a more solid starting point though.

 

 

 

Spoiler

Edited by Aothaine, 09 December 2019 - 07:39 AM.

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#143
Kierdale

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There were some very solid entries this time and all were interesting to read.
I’m awarding the Octed amulet to Torbenos for his piece [i[The Price of Genius[/b].

On another note, it’s great to see you here, Aothaine. I was (am!) a fan of your blog (FTW) and it’s good to see you have a new one too!

As for new themes:
- a less serious one but I know a lot of us are inspired by music. I thought it might be fun to have a song-inspired one. Members can take it as literally (or not) as they like. Slipping lyrics into the story, inspired by the atmosphere of a particular song, etc.
- Rivalry. Nurgle vs. Tzeentch, Khorne vs. Slaanesh.
- Standard of Chaos. Though banners and flags are something we saw more in 2nd edition, all legions or warbands likely have storied standards they bear with them when they march to war.
- Realm of Chaos. One we have touched on in the past and I’d love to revisit. A trip into the home of one of the Gods (a vision quest into the Garden of Nurgle, etc.)
- Interview with a... We’ve done these before but as years have passed we have new active members and it might be good to revisit them.
- Nemesis of Chaos. Another one we could perhaps revisit.

#144
Scourged

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Thanks, Kierdale. You make a good point. This idea was started in 2012 (wow!), and a great deal of things have changed since then. A lot of these topics/themes have been done in the past, but are well worth a revisit. We have new writers, and new lore to work off of. There's plenty more potential for Inspiration there. I like it! 

 

But with that said, there's still plenty more time to submit a story for Blessings and Boons. We all can't let Aothaine go uncontested, can we? Where's the fun in that? Let's end the year with the bang of bolter rounds. Let us resolve to impress our patrons and earn their blessed gaze.

 

And, as mentioned, any ideas that you have for topics in the coming future are always welcome. Tell us all what you would like to write about. Share the ideas you have been brewing in your Warp-tainted minds. 


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#145
Aothaine

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We all can't let Aothaine go uncontested, can we?

 

Still working on my story lol! Far from finished. :D



#146
Kierdale

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I’m working on my entry for the current theme too :tu:

#147
TrawlingCleaner

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Blessings of the World Spirits

 

Malakeye strode into the cave wearing a simple garb made of rough cloth and furs, as was the norm of those who lived on this planet. He was the Chapter Master of the Blood Diviners and his usual cocky attitude was replaced with apprehension. His superhuman senses were clouded by the darkness in the cave, he could not see his forearm if it was held out in front of him. He had bested the Avatar of the Raven in an ancient board game, long forgotten. The avatar spent too long looking to possible futures and trying to beat him with complex strategies, that Malakeye won 4 games each in four turns. His blessing was to bestow knowledge; knowledge that would increase his war efforts 10 fold. How to build new war machines, weapons and armour, the enemies movements and weak spots as well as planets and systems that would be easy to conquer or sympathetic to their cause.

 

Next he had bested the Avatar of the Toad, he had survived the 40 days of Plagues of which none before him had completed. He writhed, screamed, his skin fell off his body in clumps, he bloated like a corpse in water and wasted away for 40 days and 40 nights until as suddenly as they had happened, they stopped and he was made whole again. The Toad had blessed him with resilience that none had seen the likes of. He could be shot, stabbed and burnt; hung, quartered and beaten to what would be death for all men but he felt no pain. Wounds would pour ash instead of blood, body parts would pull themselves back together and skin would reknit itself. Warp fire and warp power would leave lasting wounds but they could still be slowly healed.


The cave he was in currently belonged to the Avatar of the Serpent. He was brought back out of his thoughts with the smallest change in movement in the air of the cave. Though the darkness was all consuming and he could not see or hear, he could still feel the air and could smell. A sweet scent moved about him, the air moving about him in an unnatural way. Out the dark, a creature moved at him with a snarl it’s face a mix of human and serpent with a glimpse of huge shining teeth. Malakeye managed to dodge thanks to his superhuman reflexes, swinging his fist round after it, which hit something that felt like silk. He dodged 2 more times before he readied himself for the next attack. The creature came at him again and Malakeye clamped his hands inside of its mouth, forcing it open. Its writhing body wrapped itself around him, crushing his ribs and legs and forcing him down towards its mouth. 

 

He saw the creatures’ teeth in detail for the first time. They were as long as short blades and were the perfect shape, their pearlescent finish reflecting on his face. He felt his body relax slowly, his head moving willingly towards its mouth. This was his death and he fully accepted his fate, to die to such beauty was the blessing he would receive from this Avatar. The screaming in his head increased in volume, some part of him knew this was not his fate and was attempting to break home free of the stranglehold. Now inches away from the maw, he blinked as if waking from a dream. Malakeye shifted his hands further into the mouth to get a better grip, impaling his palms on it’s teeth. With an almighty roar and herculean effort he heaved the creature off of his body and tore his hands away from each other. The creature squealed in realisation as it is ripped from mouth to the tip of its tail. Its body melted away, to a black liquid that seeped through the cracks in the cave, leaving only the shimmering teeth. The blessing of the Serpent is a tool with which to make a mesmerising weapon.

 

 

This is the first time I've submitted fluff to this thread and one of the few times I've posted fluff to this site in general. I've used it as an explaination of how the chapter master got a chainaxe that doesn't allow enemies to flee (the new Word Bearers relic). If its too long let me know, I can shorten it. C&C is very welcome too


Edited by TrawlingCleaner, 09 December 2019 - 11:44 AM.

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#148
Kierdale

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Nurgle has me in his grip (bronchitis) so I haven’t been able to get my idea written.
Had one - a marine gifted with the face of a horror of Tzeentch (I rolled it randomly from the old RoC books and forced myself to come up with a story)....but just haven’t the time or energy to do the writing.

#149
Jalgar

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Blessings and Curses

 

The warrior stalked across the land that less than two hours ago had borne witness to the sights and sounds of pitched battle.  Acrid smoke still billowed across the field, markers of burning vehicles, soldiers, and buildings.  The warrior stopped and took in the gruesome sights around him.  He thought back to the days of the Crusade.  The remembrancers that followed the Legion like parasites would pic capture battlefields like this.  He shook his head as he remembered them trying to find the “perfect angle,” where they could show the citizens of the Imperium the dead enemy but avoid framing fallen Astartes in the same picture.

 

The gene enhanced soldier continued walking forward in a halting gait.  The pain in his joints was intense as the cartilage had long since eroded away leaving his bones to grind against each other.  He moved his head side to side looking for surviving enemy combatants.  He could feel the popping in his vertebrae as he did.

Sudden movement to his left caught his attention.  A soldier of the Astra Militarum that had managed to survive the battle began sprinting from the cover of a derelict transport.  He ran like a small rodent frightened by a circling bird of prey.  The warrior watched him for a few seconds.  He tried to remember the last time he had run.  Had it been on Istvaan V?  Maybe it had been.  Maybe after that.  He fired his bolt gun one-handed, snapping a single round off.  The fleeing guardsman’s left leg evaporated in a fine crimson mist.  He would be dead in seconds from shock or exsanguination. 

 

The warrior looked at his bolter.  It had served him well for so long.  The foregrip wood was rotted, the casing was rusted and pitted.  The weapon was, like all his equipment, seemingly beyond its service life yet still functioning perfectly.  His combat knife was corroded and seemed to constantly weep a green ooze.  He ran his hand along the handle of his knife.  How many slaves of the corpse Emperor had died from just a scratch of the blade?  How many Astartes had he slaughtered since the Long War began?

 

The warrior came to a slight rise in the field and looked around him.  He took a deep breath.  His lungs gurgled like a death rattle, rancid fluid bubbling deep within.  He coughed and a vile mix of phlegm and pus filled his mouth.  He spit it out within his helm.  It mattered little to him.  He tried to remember the last time he took a breath with clear lungs.  That mattered even less.

 

He continued to limp across the field, stepping on or over corpses that were already decaying.  Any grass that had not burned in the fighting was dying, becoming brown and dry.  Small daemons fed upon the bloated dead.  The vile creatures giggled as they chewed on purplish flesh.  Some of them ran around playing in a twisted similarity to small children.  The marine thought there was a time when the nurglings, as they were known, disgusted him.  Now, he was as indifferent to them as he was to insects crawling across the ground.   

 

He glanced at a blinking red rune on his visor display.  It was a warning that informed him his armor was empty of combat stims and medical drugs.  It had been blinking for thousands of years. He could not think of a time when he needed them.  Surely, he had used them. 

 

The warrior finally reached his objective.  A small group of about forty prisoners had been rounded up in front of an old chapel and were being watched over by seven marines.  One of the prisoners bore the robes and trinkets of the Ecclesiarchy.  His gnarled face was pinched in a permanent scowl but the tremors in his body gave away his fear.

 

The old man was able to mutter one word.  “Heretic.”

 

The warrior chuckled; the sound made more sinister through the vox caster in his helm.  He mused to himself how these pathetic mongrels must see him.   His armor was ancient and had witnessed countless battles.  It was cracked, pitted, and corroded.  It was caked with dried blood and viscera, and black mold had spread all over it.  Rivulets of disgusting fluids seeped from cracks and joints in the armor.  The armor’s gut plate had been split open years ago by a round from a bolt gun.  The explosion of the round not only opened the armor but had also split his bloated belly open.  Ropes of slimy, putrid intestines were visible and hung from the wound, draping down in loops. 

 

The warrior held his arm out towards the priest.  A dozen writhing maggots fell from the wrist joint of the warrior’s armor.

 

“This is where you tell me your Emperor protects,” the warrior growled.  “Where I kill you and you become a sainted martyr.  This is the day the Imperium will sing your name upon high as it roars to battle for the glory and honor of your corpse god.  Am I right, priest?”

 

The priest only glared at the warrior; his one good eye allowed only a single tear to fall.  Even though he trembled, he swore he would give this Chaos marine no satisfaction in his death.

 

The plague ridden marine leaned forward at the waist and his helm was inches from the priest.

 

“Answer me, dog!” he roared, the vox caster distorted the words to an almost unintelligible garble.

 

The priest gagged.  The odor of the warrior was one he knew well.  Fifty-one years ago, he had arrived on a planet weeks after a city had been slaughtered by heretic cults.  The dead had been left in the hot sun.  This warrior smelled of every stench he had encountered in that city but even more so.  He smelled of decay, death, rot, waste, blood, and vomit.  The priest retched. 

 

The warrior stood up straight and laughed a quiet gurgled laugh.  He reached out and grabbed the priest and dragged him towards the front of the chapel.  Erected to either side of the main door were two statues. On the left was a statue of the Emperor hold aloft a sword and on the right were the shattered remains of an Astartes of the Imperial Fists.   The Plague Marine raised the priest high and held him aloft over the marble sword of the Emperor’s effigy.  He slowly, almost mockingly gentle, lowered the priest upon the blade.  The blade entered the priest in his lower back and slowly pierced through his torso. 

 

The priest screamed out in agony and then yelled as the blade punctured through the collarbone.

 

“The Emperor protects!” were the last words of High Priest Yorin Galgovick. 

 

 

The Plague Marine laughed.  “There it is,” he said.  “There is the blind faith of fools, brothers.” 

 

 

The priest’s body twitched as the warrior walked away.  He walked past his fellow Death Guard battle brothers and walked to an open clearing some fifty meters away.

 

He thought quietly to himself.

 

I do not run as my body is shattered, yet Father gives me the endurance to keep walking.  Disease resides within my body and without, yet Father allows me to live.  My equipment and armor are corroded, yet Father allows them to still protect me and destroy the enemy.  My combat stims are long gone, yet Father gives me strength.  The medical drugs in my armor are no longer usable, yet Father allows me to take the pain and shrug it off.

 

The warrior looked back at the battlefield.  His brothers-in-arms.  The rotting dead.  The twitching priest.   

 

Papa Nurgle I am forever your servant.  Your blessings keep the curse of weakness beyond me.  Your blessings upon me are the curse upon the Imperium.


Edited by Jalgar, 27 December 2019 - 02:42 AM.


#150
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I'm sorry for my delay, folks. Life has been a bit nuts for a while. I'll wrap up this thread and start our new one soon, I promise.
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