Warhammer: After 18 years, finally an end

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > Warhammer: After 18 years, finally an end

«‹›1139 »

TehRedWheelbarrow: Mar 16, 2011; Fan of Britches

Warden posted:

And it was utterly awesome.

yeah seriously i think the most memorable moment of the whole HH for me was Horuses slow realization that big E isnt even talking to him and he is not even worthy of notice in that scene

# ? May 23, 2024 19:37

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 25, 2024 02:02

FoulWeatherFriend: Apr 10, 2006; Huh, okay...

Lostconfused posted:

Half way through Descent of Angels and it was honestly more when it was a simple heroes journey with some mysticism but then the space marines had to show up eventually.

I remember way back on Caliban when I read that and people were talking here about how it was quite repetitive on Caliban. I was actually surprised on Caliban when it turned out to say "on Caliban" on a distressing number of pages.

Or maybe that was the sequel book, I'm honestly unsure it's been so many years

e: On Caliban

FoulWeatherFriend fucked around with this message at 20:33 on May 23, 2024

# ? May 23, 2024 20:30

Biplane: Jul 18, 2005

When are we getting more Fehervari stuff. When. I need, medically, to find out what the gently caress is going on with the angels resplendent or I might die

# ? May 23, 2024 20:41

Kylaer: Aug 4, 2007; I'm SURE walking around in a respirator at all times in an (even more) OPEN BIDENing society is definitely not a recipe for disaster and anyone that's not cool with getting harassed by CHUDs are cave dwellers. I've got good brain!

Since I don't think enough people have read Rhuairidh James' novella Da Gobbo Rides Again, possibly due to the fact that nobody can spell his name, I want to give a couple of little samples of it. You all should read this.

quote:

Vakka, a painboy to the last, didn�t waste the chance to make the most of a really horrible injury. Like a schola-demonstrator leading an amputation, he�d guided Stimma�s meaty hand to each of his organs, explaining what they did, how they worked.

�Dat�s da wobbler,� Vakka had said, forcibly placing Stimma�s fingers against a quivering lump of flesh that hung loosely from his ruined flank. �It wibbles.� Then he moved Stimma�s hand up to a cluster of lumpy protrusions deep within his thoracic cavity. �Don�t know wot dese do. Usually I just give �em a poke and den leave well alone. If you find any spare, pocket �em, you never know when dey might come in �andy.�

Stimma had initially recoiled from this impromptu lesson in orkish anatomy. This was not out of disgust, but boredom. Stimma didn�t mind gore, but back then, he much preferred making it than mucking around in it. However, as Vakka�s tuition continued, Stimma found himself thinking about the orkish body in ways he�d never considered before. It was like taking apart a slugga�� an ork was just another really brilliant machine, one that could be looted and bolted back together and improved endlessly. The heart? That was a bit like a fuel pump, keeping the rest of the organs juiced up and ready to go. The wobbler? Well, that was easy. It wibbled. The brain? Well, it did something important. He could work that out later. Vakka had unfortunately expired before he could get to that bit, but by then, his work was done. Stimma was a painboy now. He Got It.

quote:

�Wot�s yer name, snot?� said Stimma.

�Goggulz, boss,� replied the grot, standing as tall and proud as his gnarled little body would allow.

�How�s dat?� asked Stimma. Grots usually got their names from things orks yelled at them�� maybe this one was a runaway.

�On account of da goggles, boss.� The grot gestured his gnarled claws at his face, indicating, with some pizzazz, where a pair of goggles conspicuously did not sit.

Stimma growled. �I can�t see �em.�

�Dat�s cos dey�re in yer pocket, boss.�

Instinctively, Stimma patted a pocket. There was something there. He vaguely remembered pulling a tiny pair of goggles out on the ship over, and assuming that he�d had a much smaller head until recently and hadn�t noticed. The possibility he�d nicked them off a grot did feel at least equally plausible.

�Did I take dese, Goggulz?�

�Yeah, boss. Stringbag was complainin� about gettin� guts in his eyes and said it wasn�t fair I got �em. So you took �em off me to shut me up. And den clapped Stringbag and took his bag off �im.�

Stimma nodded. He didn�t remember the specific incident, but it was representative of the wisdom and professionalism he brought to his dok-shop. �Where�s Stringbag now?�

�I strangled �im, boss. For gettin� me goggles nicked.�

�Good lad. Always hated Stringbag.� Stimma had. Stringbag was always complaining about the orderlies not pulling their weight, which was Stimma�s job.

The writing is brilliant. I'm really hoping he gets to tackle a full-length novel, or at least more short stuff.

# ? May 23, 2024 21:02

Biplane: Jul 18, 2005

Kylaer posted:

quote:
Stimma was a painboy now. He Got It.

Lmao

# ? May 23, 2024 23:01

PupsOfWar: Dec 6, 2013

Biplane posted:

When are we getting more Fehervari stuff. When. I need, medically, to find out what the gently caress is going on with the angels resplendent or I might die

Fehervari seems like the type of guy who would have writing ambitions outside of licensed fiction, maybe he's got his own stuff in a drawer somewhere and he's been busy trying to get the ball rolling on that

# ? May 23, 2024 23:35

Kylaer: Aug 4, 2007; I'm SURE walking around in a respirator at all times in an (even more) OPEN BIDENing society is definitely not a recipe for disaster and anyone that's not cool with getting harassed by CHUDs are cave dwellers. I've got good brain!

Your father's hand brushes against your face, too weak to be a blow, merely a touch. He is battered nigh unto ruin, no longer worthy of the term adversary, and you think he is merely a tottering half-step from being consigned to history. Until you feel his knuckles pinch on both sides of your nose and pull.

And now he speaks, not past you, but for the first time in years, to you.

"Got your nose, lol."

There is a shadow of his old warmth and mirth in those words, the faded echo of better days. The memories it evokes clash with the rising horror you feel as you see a lump of something flesh-colored clenched between his battered knuckles, held too close to your eyes for you to focus on it clearly.

You scrabble in panic at your face, thinking this must be another of his lies, but the Talon is too vast and clumsy an instrument and the touch of its enormous claws give you no enlightenment.

As he steps back, you realize that your father has, in the end, spoken the truth. He has stolen your nose.

# ? May 24, 2024 17:22

DAD LOST MY IPOD: Feb 3, 2012; Fats Dominar is on the case

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

# ? May 24, 2024 19:32

hopterque: Mar 9, 2007; sup

DAD LOST MY IPOD posted:

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

# ? May 24, 2024 19:52

Black Griffon: Mar 12, 2005; Now, in the quantum moment before the closure, when all become one. One moment left. One point of space and time.

I know who you are. You are destiny.

The years start here, with the ruin of your face and the fog of confusion overwhelming your senses. They start with the melding of fiction and reality. Your nose exists in two places at once, two places overlapping in a jumble of memories and ruined architecture.

"Sejanus," you say, "Bring the Mournival together, I must present my plan to retake my nose."

But Sejanus is not here, and neither is Mersadie, and neither is your nose.

# ? May 24, 2024 19:54

Gravitas Shortfall: Jul 17, 2007; Utility is seven-eighths Proximity.

DAD LOST MY IPOD posted:

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

# ? May 24, 2024 20:00

Warden: Jan 16, 2020

DAD LOST MY IPOD posted:

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

# ? May 24, 2024 20:11

hopterque: Mar 9, 2007; sup

Black Griffon posted:

The years start here, with the ruin of your face and the fog of confusion overwhelming your senses. They start with the melding of fiction and reality. Your nose exists in two places at once, two places overlapping in a jumble of memories and ruined architecture.

"Sejanus," you say, "Bring the Mournival together, I must present my plan to retake my nose."

But Sejanus is not here, and neither is Mersadie, and neither is your nose.

okay god damnit lol

# ? May 24, 2024 20:37

Kylaer: Aug 4, 2007; I'm SURE walking around in a respirator at all times in an (even more) OPEN BIDENing society is definitely not a recipe for disaster and anyone that's not cool with getting harassed by CHUDs are cave dwellers. I've got good brain!

DAD LOST MY IPOD posted:

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

Black Griffon posted:

But Sejanus is not here, and neither is Mersadie, and neither is your nose.

# ? May 24, 2024 22:27

Adbot: ADBOT LOVES YOU

# ? May 25, 2024 02:02

Improbable Lobster: Jan 6, 2012; "From each according to his ability" said Ares. It sounded like a quotation.; Buglord

Kylaer posted:

Your father's hand brushes against your face, too weak to be a blow, merely a touch. He is battered nigh unto ruin, no longer worthy of the term adversary, and you think he is merely a tottering half-step from being consigned to history. Until you feel his knuckles pinch on both sides of your nose and pull.

And now he speaks, not past you, but for the first time in years, to you.

"Got your nose, lol."

There is a shadow of his old warmth and mirth in those words, the faded echo of better days. The memories it evokes clash with the rising horror you feel as you see a lump of something flesh-colored clenched between his battered knuckles, held too close to your eyes for you to focus on it clearly.

You scrabble in panic at your face, thinking this must be another of his lies, but the Talon is too vast and clumsy an instrument and the touch of its enormous claws give you no enlightenment.

As he steps back, you realize that your father has, in the end, spoken the truth. He has stolen your nose.

DAD LOST MY IPOD posted:

it�s not your nose, it�s how he steals it

Black Griffon posted:

The years start here, with the ruin of your face and the fog of confusion overwhelming your senses. They start with the melding of fiction and reality. Your nose exists in two places at once, two places overlapping in a jumble of memories and ruined architecture.

"Sejanus," you say, "Bring the Mournival together, I must present my plan to retake my nose."

But Sejanus is not here, and neither is Mersadie, and neither is your nose.

Excellent

# ? May 25, 2024 00:30

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > Warhammer: After 18 years, finally an end

«‹›1139 »