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++Inspirational Friday - 19/06/2015++

Inspirational Friday

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#176
Tenebris

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Daemon Forge

 

Spoiler


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#177
Tenebris

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Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. This week we have two winners, Zhaharek and Beachymike123, you can read their posts linked under their names. I am sure many of you would agree with my choice. A honorable mention goes to Carrack. 

 

Step forth Zhaharek and Beachymike123 and claim your reward!

 

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Inspirational Friday - 08/05/2015 - Battles of the Space Marines

 

This week I have prepared something special for you my frater, special because I will open this Inspirational Friday to the rest of the board for a challenge. The topic of the week is a Battle of the Space Marines. The theme is a battle between Space Marines and Chaos Space Marines, the outcome is your choice, the setting and the armies too. In order to make it a real challenge I will set the word limit to 500 words and you are invited to post accompanying art too. 

 

This Inspirational Friday is special for I invite our loyalist brethren to post their own Battle of the Space Marines from the loyalist point of view. A few considerations though. Be mindful of the epic scale of 40k battles, make it cinematic and try to include a plot twist. The word limit is no requisite but it is there to present a challenge. If you feel that your topic should be more extensive you are certainly allowed to write as many words as you wish. The deadline is Thursday 14/05/2015. For any additional information PM me or ask directly in the topic.  

 

Let us be inspired!

 

Tenebris


Edited by Tenebris, 08 May 2015 - 03:44 PM.

There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#178
Tipper

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*Tipper looks around and notes that he is first to arrive. He pulls up a chair and waits.* To the first person to walk in he says, "So you want to hear a story, ehhh? Well, to bad, I'm telling you anyway! My entry for this week: Soon

Spoiler



Spoiler


Thanks to Warsmith Aznable for use of his Iron Hounds.

Edited by Tipper, 21 May 2015 - 09:37 PM.

Oya [õy-ã] - Mandalorian meaning, literally, "Let's hunt!" Colloquially adapted as a positive and triumphant cheer with potential meanings including "Stay alive!", "Go you!", and simply "Cheers!"

#179
Warsmith Aznable

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This is an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and Tipper's story inspired me to go ahead and write it. I'm not sure it fits exactly into this week's theme, but it does involve a battle between chaos space marines and space marines (and chaos space marines versus chaos space marines.)

 

Spoiler

 

Sorry for the length. I actually tried this time to keep it at the word count, but it just couldn't fit the entire arc of what I wanted to describe into 500 words.

 

EDIT: added some clarifying details.


Edited by Warsmith Aznable, 14 May 2015 - 03:05 PM.

The Iron Hounds (CSM) project log here & IA here. | Our Martyred Lady (SoB) project log here  | Lamenters (BA) WIP thread here.

Index of Inspiration Friday entries here.

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#180
Carrack

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When the Gods make war, the world will tremble.

Spoiler

If you would like to know more of the setting of Hell's Holdfast I will repost one of my favorite entries to this contest here
Spoiler

Ps please consider this weeks entry "out of competition".

Edited by Carrack, 13 May 2015 - 03:29 PM.


#181
Tenebris

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Greetings and welcome to Inspirational Friday. I hoped for more attendance with such a topic as a battle among space marines yet it was not the case. I have promised three rewards and three rewards will be given. 

 

Step forth Tipper, Warsmith Aznable and Carrack and claim your reward!

 

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Inspirational Friday - 15/05/2015 - Cult Leader

 

Like many other Chaos organizations, most of the Chaos cults are based around a powerful and charismatic leader, the Cult Leader. 

 

This week I want you to write about your Cult Leader, how he created the Cult, how he gathered followers and how he ended in the employ of a powerful Chaos Lord. What are the motivations of his fall to Chaos, what is the nature of his Cult and how your Cult Leader plans to use his host of believers for his own agenda. 

 

Let us be inspired!

 

Tenebris


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#182
Tipper

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I must respectfully decline the award, m'lord, I refuse to win by default. I would however encourage the others to take theirs', as they are richly deserved. I wish everyone luck in this next competition. Oya!
Oya [õy-ã] - Mandalorian meaning, literally, "Let's hunt!" Colloquially adapted as a positive and triumphant cheer with potential meanings including "Stay alive!", "Go you!", and simply "Cheers!"

#183
Lord Pariah

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If that is the case, I call a vote in this court to extend the deadline for late entries for the IF battles prize, as i know that many schedules are filling on the run up to summer.
I also vote to have the new if run in tangent but has aspirants make it known to what prize they wish to gain... or even both.

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#184
Carrack

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If that is the case, I call a vote in this court to extend the deadline for late entries for the IF battles prize, as i know that many schedules are filling on the run up to summer.
I also vote to have the new if run in tangent but has aspirants make it known to what prize they wish to gain... or even both.


I second this, with the caveat that we can further edit and refine our original submissions.

#185
Kierdale

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As we have had 'Interview with a Chaos Lord' and 'Interview with a Chaos Sorcerer' can we assume there will someday be '...with a Warpsmith' and '...with a Dark Apostle'? I ask as if the latter will be a future IF then I'll do another story for this week's Cult Leader.

#186
Tenebris

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I understand the predicament. Point is that I think that even if I extend the deadline there is little to no interest by the loyalist brethren. What I would do in the future would be a cross-challenge with the Liber for Chaos, be it a battle, a warband DIY or other things. In truth I am seeing that IF is loosing steam and what confuses me most is that I have put some really big topics in the past weeks which should generate interest, but they did not. Sincerely I know not how to proceed. 


There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#187
Kierdale

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You have a devotee in me. I've been abroad for three weeks and extremely busy back at work last week but I'll submit entries for the top a I missed in good time. :)

Could it be that members are busy at this time of year?

As for the loyalists, perhaps not many of them are familiar with IF and perhaps one week is too short for them to get to grips with the challenge? That's just me thinking aloud.
Change IF to a 2-week event?

#188
Tipper

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I understand the predicament. Point is that I think that even if I extend the deadline there is little to no interest by the loyalist brethren. What I would do in the future would be a cross-challenge with the Liber for Chaos, be it a battle, a warband DIY or other things. In truth I am seeing that IF is loosing steam and what confuses me most is that I have put some really big topics in the past weeks which should generate interest, but they did not. Sincerely I know not how to proceed.


We're here, and I find myself amongst truly great writers, who's level I aspire to attain someday. Who needs the loyalist scum anyway? What I assume happened is they read through the previous topic entrys and got scared off! You say the topics don't generate interest but the few entrys that are put up, I find to be incredible!

Honestly the handful of writers that IF draws, put out such tremendous work, that stopping would be a crime. Sometimes a topic does not speak to everyone, but the truely inspired work that I have found here rival many published authors that I have read. Which in turn inspires me, and isn't that the point? To inspire and be inspired?!

I am all for a dead line extension, and perhaps the awards being dropped to the original 1. I also like the idea of it being a 2 week event. Truth is Tenebris, if you proceed by simply continuing to run IF just as you have been, we'll keep showing up and writing our hearts out, and even if we are the only ones that do or even see it, isn't that enough?

Edit: I took the liberty of pulling a little treadromancy over on the other side, and issuing a challenge at the same time. If they don't show up now, we get permina "better writers then you" brag rights. ;)

Edited by Tipper, 16 May 2015 - 12:24 PM.

Oya [õy-ã] - Mandalorian meaning, literally, "Let's hunt!" Colloquially adapted as a positive and triumphant cheer with potential meanings including "Stay alive!", "Go you!", and simply "Cheers!"

#189
Warsmith Aznable

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Were the loyalists challenged directly in their own threads or just in the events subforum? Maybe the challenge didn't get seen by enough of them?

I like this ongoing thing here. It gives me both motivation and an "assignment." I will try to enter more in support of it (a lot of times I come up with a story idea but get too busy to write before the dead line.)

The Iron Hounds (CSM) project log here & IA here. | Our Martyred Lady (SoB) project log here  | Lamenters (BA) WIP thread here.

Index of Inspiration Friday entries here.

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"Three times faster than the usual Warsmith."


#190
MaliGn

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Perhaps in an analogue to gw itself the topics have become too big? I have certainly abstained from a few largely because my knowledge of the subject matter has been insufficient (knights, mechanics etc) I've preferred some of the more specific, but still open-ended challenges, both in terms of participating, but also in reading the results.

#191
Carrack

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If anyone is interested, I have managed to loosely tie several of my last submissions into a single story arc, and posted it in the fan fiction forum.

#192
Carrack

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The Beast of Boones
Spoiler


#193
Teetengee

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I have been pretty busy, and the battle seems like it would take much more to write well. However, I am still very much interested in this topic.


My Chaos WIP Thread (Bigger Pics and Foul Xenos offsite) Hall of Honour, My Storm Reavers (DIY SM Chapter) Story, My Chaos 7.5 Homebrew Codex Thread
In us burns a fire for vengeance that will only be quenched when we stand triumphant over the smoldering ruins of Terra. Our laughter on that day will haunt their survivors till the end of time. We will stride forth victorious through the shattered gates of their fortress, holding high aloft the defiled corpse of their rotting god as our prize.
Wulfkry, on 02 Jul 2013 - 3:38 PM, said: So an inquisitor is receiving SM implants using GK geneseed stolen off the fields of armageddon interesting..
Captain Semper, on 29 May 2015 - 4:10 AM, said: There is crazy and there is Teetengee crazy... ph34r.pngnuke.gif

Warsmith Aznable, on 30 Jan 2016 - 01:16 AM, said: 13. Teetengee wrote "Warp Born" and I won't even go into how disturbing the subject matter was.
The Psycho, on 26 Apr 2016 - 10:50 PM, said: That's either really disturbing or really cute, I haven't quite made up my mind yet.

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#194
Beachymike123

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I don't feel the IF is in trouble. I think as we head towards the summer months people will tend to be going out more or be busier with work. I can understand your frustration when you give your life and soul to a project and it seems to lose steam, but keep dark hope Tenebris. All great things experience down times but come back better and with a new lease of life. 

As an idea, why not have a monthly event that ties several IFs together? 



#195
Tenebris

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Inspirational Friday: Challenge the Traitors

 

I would not say that IF is in trouble but alas it seems that I have trouble keeping it interesting, or so it seems. The Liber Challenge is very popular and should I go for a similar monthly event I would be crushing the party down there, which is not my intention for I like and participate in the Liber events. 

 

To move it to a two week event achieves nothing that could not be done in one week. The interest is around the same with four posts max and here is the problem I am foreseeing. I wonder why a Liber challenge has all the forum writing and a much smaller event like Inspirational Friday does not. The topics are as good as those down there, plus I keep an open forum/feedback policy which truly allows for a greater interaction and participation for the frater.

 

In truth I know not what I am doing wrong save for not being a pro-imperial topic. In truth sometimes I think "why bother" but then I somehow pull it together. I simply wish more posts and activities and a greater participation. As it seems is that people can write about imperials and the Horus Heresy for days on end yet no one is interested in Chaos fanfiction save the few of us. It is getting ... strange, especially due to the time, free time, I invest in Inspirational Friday to keep it regular, interesting and a fixture of the Chaos community. 


Edited by Tenebris, 19 May 2015 - 12:32 PM.

There is only the Truth. I do not know what it is, but I do believe in it!

Attributed to Dark Apostle Toren Mar, Chapter of the Broken Seal, 71st Host, Word Bearers Legion.

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#196
Kierdale

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As much a fixer as an Exalted Fecund cult leader, I present to you...

Brother Anansi
Clad in a voluminous robe of a deep purple streaked with silver thread in patterns like the web of an arachnid, Anansi -the most common of his myriad appellations- has ensnared a great many souls, each under the guise of aid. Businesses protected from the extortion of gangs, the hooligans mysteriously disappearing from the streets...donations given to keep shelters open for veterans, waifs and strays...a life saved by the timely delivery of a perfectly-matching organ...a spouse's lover eliminated...the most debauched fantasies fulfilled...nothing is beyond the power of brother Anansi. And often the needy needn't even seek him out, for Anansi -clad in that gargoylesque jade mask of his- appears upon their door as if in answer to their demands.
Yet never is his aid given freely. Never at the time of salvation but one day down the road a price must be paid.
That business might be called upon to store crates marked with fell symbols for a term...
The shelter give access to its charges, many leaving with Anansi and the people of his cult in the dark hours, never to be seen again...
A different organ demanded in payment...
Services requested lest past adultery and murder become uncovered...
And a great deal more favours stretching the very power and influence of those who once made their deals with brother Anansi.
All knew that they would eventually be called upon...but needs must...
And when the Arbites, the Imperial Judges, come calling for him he has already faded into the shadows, all that remains being strands and fragments of tattered lives.

#197
TDF

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#198
Tipper

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Lies
Spoiler

Tried to keep it shorter this week.
Oya!

Edited by Tipper, 21 May 2015 - 09:58 PM.

Oya [õy-ã] - Mandalorian meaning, literally, "Let's hunt!" Colloquially adapted as a positive and triumphant cheer with potential meanings including "Stay alive!", "Go you!", and simply "Cheers!"

#199
Carrack

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I liked my first story, but I don't think it quite captured the role of cultist on the battlefield, so I finished up a false start I had on this challenge. Please consider my first entry the official submission.

Battle of Ramhorn Valley, Woolmark Siliquastrum Sub-Sector
Spoiler


#200
Zhaharek

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(My entry this week is rather long, detailing a Slaaneshi blade cult. Enjoy.)


27 Silver Edges

Lighting flashed as High Priest Valentin De Rouchelle stood, at the altar, within the White Cathedral. Halthan VII’s low moon shone through the stained glass windows, silver light filtered through as blue by the murals upon those windows. Long slits of that blue slid across Valentin, illuminating him. The rain that slurred onto the windows distorted these ribbons of light. The light felt... good again this flesh. The altar before him was vast, and it was dominated by The Emperor himself, cast in white marble, flanked by two Space Marines, of the same marble manufacture. Their eyes were rubies. Not only that, but they were life size. Valentin always felt small when nearby, and oh, did it bother him. He knew he couldn’t focus on that now though. He turned, his cloak drifting about him. The cathedral was ventilated, and chill whispers of air punched in at moments. He pushed back a tendril of flawlessly black hair, slicking it all back with one hand. Rich green eyes, set below a high brow, in a porcelain pale face, surveyed the congregation. At least a few thousand, perhaps even half a million men and women sat, in the endless sprawl of pews. The horror of The Silver Edge, the cult, had driven them here. Yet, this place of worship could house so many more. Such was the grandeur of The White Cathedral.

All 26 of his Disciples stood in attendance at the edges of the pews, shrouded in black, all of their bodies hidden. There was no hiding the masculinity or femininity of some though. Not that the shrouds were immodest, they were all-enclosing, yet the proportions of the wearers simply denied modesty innately. They were still, aside from the slight movement of their heads, as they watched those in the pews. Valentin breathed deep, and looked up. The White Cathedral was as tall as it was wide, which meant that it was truly enormous. Filling the domed, far, far, far above ceiling was the Pale Crusade. An entire Imperial Fleet formed of white marble, set sail across stained glass stars. The pride of Halthan VII, a white fleet.

Valentin gestured, only slightly, a deft and polite turn of his wrist, a slow pan of his arm at waist level. It was enough to bow the heads of the thousands. They began to pray, enough of them whispering to form one voice, a hushed giant. Valentin and his Disciples joined them, bowing their heads and intoning. In the gestalt tones of the worshippers, one could hear the prayer:
“Love the Emperor
For He is the salvation of mankind
Obey His words
For He will lead you into the light of the future
Heed his wisdom ​
For He will protect you from evil
Whisper his prayers with devotion,
For they will save your soul
Honour His servants,
For they speak in His voice
Tremble before His majesty,
For we all walk in His immortal shadow.”
When it was done, the people began to dissipate, leaving in small groups, through the towering doors that the Disciples had thrown open. They left, shielding themselves against the brutal rain, as the elements battered them. The wind howled into the cathedral, driving Valentin’s cloak into madness, rippling about his body in utter abandon. The gale had much the same effect on his Disciples, their shrouds exploding around them. As each of the worshippers left, the space within the cathedral became emptier, and emptier, until all that remained were Valentin and his Disciples, clad in wind-blown black.
The Disciples at the doors began to close the yawning aperture, and then stopped. Valentin had heard it too.
“High Priest! High Priest!” The tinny voice of the Planetary Governor was carried in on the wind. The Disciples at the door swung the doors open once more. His tone was of high import, and a degree of fear, but the sound of Governor Noisson’s voice was not what interested Valentin. What interested him was the sound of immense footsteps, on the wet, cobbled stairs outside.
Valentin noticed, after the titanic footsteps, the low, tooth aching hum that accompanied them. Then the stink of weapon oil, blood and sweat that, somehow, the iron tang of rain could not mask. Finally, the silhouette stood in the door way, so much taller than any mortal man. Lightning struck, throwing its long shadow across the entire span of the cathedral, till the shade of a helmed head met the ever-shifting brim of his cloak.

The Astartes began to stride into the cathedral. His armour was as white as the marble floor upon which it walked, and that pristine white was trimmed in deep, tarnished gold. The tarnish bothered Valentin. The armour gave little in the way of ornamentation, bedecked not with scrolls of devotion to the giant’s god, or trophies of victories past. This also bothered Valentin. The Astartes strode through the pew aisle until he stood directly before Valentin, looking past the priest, at the marble statues that resembled him, and his grand-sire. Valentin heard him whisper, almost inaudibly, “We never asked for this,” and stared at the Marine.

Governor Noisson called out from across the other side of the cathedral, almost drowned out by the storm, “This is Sergeant Archturous, the leader of the squad that has promised to help, to help,” the Governor fumbled over the simplest of words, “to help rid us of this... Silver Edge Cult”.
Valentin looked at Archturous, this Angel of Death sent to ‘help’. Valentin almost shrugged. Instead, he stepped slightly closer to the living tower, and introduced himself, full title and name. Sergeant Archturous failed to notice him, merely continued staring at his marble likeness. Valentin pursed his lips and internally sighed, then tried a different tactic: “I heard that one of your noble squad was lost in the lower habs recently. I give you my condolences... my lord.” The Sergeant was still unresponsive. Valentin raised his voice, “I heard-
“Yes, I’m sure you did.” The boom of the Marine’s voice echoed through the huge space, clear as a bell. “Hear, that is.” The titan slowly turned, and looked at Valentin. As loud as any other Astartes, he thought. Archturous spoke again, “Have you ever met an Astartes before, High Priest Rouchelle?” “No I can’t say I have,” lied Valentin. The Astartes inhaled deeply, causing a stutter of feedback from his helm. “I would like to ask you to... lessen the public awareness of the Silver Edge. Cult’s such as these, they feed on the peoples fear, weakening the populace like a vile cancer, from the inside out,” he said in a very matter of fact way. Valentin nodded slowly, as if contemplating it. “I can do that.” Archturous turned, and left, striding beneath the shadow of the Pale Crusade, and back into the storm. Governor Noisson looked at Valentin as if to say something, met a piercing gaze, and followed the Space Marine. The doors slammed shut. The Astartes hadn’t seemed to of noticed the fact that the Disciples had all been slowly walking forward, to surround him while he spoke to the High Priest.
Valentin looked as his Disciples for a few moments, before turning on his heel, cloak fanning behind him.

****************

Valentin ran through his passageway into the bowels of the cathedral, desperate and fast. He struggled out of his robes like a drowning man for air, limbs pulling, flying everywhere. Kicked open the door at the end of the passage, panting, chest heaving. The priest tumbled into his private quarters, a decadent place. He scrambled, hand over clawed hand, to the mirror by his bed. Stood, tying a charm around his throat. It was tipped with a silver circle, one that was split by a sickle ended line. He snapped the chord tight. He looked up, and saw a pale, lean man. Whipcord muscles over sharp bones. The man was unhealthy pale, as if he were made from the same marble as the cathedral. There was livid cut on his lower stomach. His eyes were green, and human, but if one looked they’d notice the size of his pupils. The herald of mutation. The man stepped forward, and put his hand up to meet Valentin’s. Valentin returned the gesture, stepping forward, until their hands touched, and he was face to face with his reflection. He left, to don his armour.
His reflection didn’t. It smiled, and its gums were black.

Minutes later, Valentin walked through another passageway, black armour fitted snugly around him. He sighed, happy to be out of the church of The False Emperor. He was a false priest too, an irony that wasn’t lost on him. His ears pricked up, someone behind him. He swivelled. Valentin was confronted by Aliavia Lechair, his 5th Disciple, and his favourite, among other things. She was out of her shroud, and in her armour, grey, and of a geometric design. The hard lines of the all encompassing armour accentuated her curves, somehow. Valentin put it down to the gifts of the Dark Prince. She strode up to him, and he turned and carried on walking, he was in a hurry. She caught up easily. “Still got that cut from last night?” she asked, voice echoing in the passage. Valentin grinned, “Well, I haven’t been gifted with regeneration just yet, so yes.” She chuckled from beside him. With a short spur of speed, she overtook him, standing in his path. He proceeded until he was obscenely close to her, the more outward plates of their armour scraping slightly against each other. “I have a separate tunnel for a reason,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. Aliavia ignored him, drawing even closer, until he could actually taste the warp-dust on her breath, she’d probably taken it the moment she had reached her quarters. “These... Angels of Death.” She said, in the most hushed tones, “tell me, you’ve fought one before: What’s it like to kill one?” Valentin smiled, kissed her, and pointed to the door at the end of the passage. “Let’s go find out.”

The sounds of sword against sword were already ringing as Valentin stepped through the door, onto his balcony. This was his true church, in which he was a god, second only to Slaanesh. This hall, meagre by comparison to the cathedral, where the Silver Edge drew over closer and closer to mastering the sword, was where he ruled. The hall was adorned, on every wall, with jewels and murals of demons. In the centre of the floor, surrounded by duelling Disciples, was a chained adamantium cylinder. Valentin De Rouchelle, the Bleeding Edge, was his name. Not... High Priest. An imperial priest, who lives a double life as the master of a decadent blade cult, how am I pulling this off, thought Valentin.

Aliavia peeled away from him, vaulted the balcony, and landed, with a thud below. Valentin came forward, and retrieved his sword. It was sheathed in the throat of a kneeling corpse, which had once been Valentin’s 27th Disciple. The fool had allowed himself to be wounded, imperfectly, a ragged unclean cut. So, as not to hold the rest of his Disciples back, Valentin had found a new sword holder. After all, was it not Fulgrim himself who had once discovered that perfection was not achieved when there was nothing left to add, but nothing left to remove?
Valentin cleaned the blood off of his sword and held the needle slender blade aloft. His Disciples paused their duels and did the same, all mimicking his act, leering in anticipation. He began his speech: “So, you all bore witness to what I was just forced to endure. The False Emperor sends his crass angels, to stomp us out like insects.” Valentin spoke, there was an unholy racket form the chained cylinder, yet, heedless, he continued, stepping up on the edge of the balcony: “They claim we are a cancer. A plague, like all the other cults. Of course they do.” The Disciples smiled, as Valentin said, “The unwashed have always thought such of their betters.”

He jumped, landing before the cylinder, which was becoming noisier by the second. “Open it,” he commanded the Disciples on either side. As it began to creak open, the Silver Edge, for the first time in years activated the power fields of their blades, and lighting struck overhead. “The gods are watching,” muttered Aliavia.

“Your gods are false,” a wounded, booming voice echoed form the cylinder, clear as a bell. Valentin sighed, saluting with his sword, “I could say the same to you”, returned the leader of The Silver Edge.
The Astartes roared, and managed to make it five steps, on already wounded legs, before 27 silver edges flashed.

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