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Lanky Coconut Tree posted:The Omnissiah's Left Lower Back Mechadendrite (the other one)(with the grippy plier)
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Jan 18, 2015 09:33
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JT Jag posted:Leftmost Mechadendrite I like the sound of this
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Jan 18, 2015 09:36
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Grognan posted:Sub-Sixty Niners Given their origin and proclivities when we found them. I see no other appropriate name. The 69th Trallian infantry +1, By His leftmost mechadendrite.
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Jan 18, 2015 09:49
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It's a shame all those trucks were lost as a result of incursion and very fortunate we were able to mitigate any further damage. Of course replacements must be procured as well. First order of business is to learn everything we can about the disposition of the forces served by the trucks and all the associated command structures.
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Jan 18, 2015 11:18
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Hah, leftmost mechadendrite is pretty drat good. Now, we'll hear at the briefing where those trucks are gonna roll out to. We should make sure they're going our way, you dig?
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Jan 18, 2015 12:43
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Love the touch about the lucky meatbeasts. Also, proposing we get the disco lights in our name somehow. Not feeling super poetic today, so maybe "The Light From Below" or something. Also, do we have any chemists in the thread? I'm curious what interacts badly with gold. We've killed a few major baddies, (Abraxus and the psider) so maybe take a name/title like "The [chemical] Spidereater". After all, have you SEEN a spidereater?! They're terrifying. They almost look like they have mechadendrites themselves.
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Jan 18, 2015 15:34
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JT Jag posted:Leftmost Mechadendrite
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Jan 18, 2015 16:10
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I like the Leftmost Mechadendrite as a regimental nickname, with the Disco fighters being the 'Raving Ravagers,' the sub-sixers the 'Subterranean Spider-Eaters,' and ourselves as the Brevet General but only once we can convince the Lord-Sire to appoint us commander of the Beast's surface military in his absence. Once we're actually a general by our family's standards, we can get away with sometimes calling ourselves that. Edit: I just looked up 'Brevet.' DO NOT adopt it as a title. That would imply we don't or shouldn't get paid more for our extraordinary services. Let's just allow the troops to call us 'General' Ohone, Commander of the Beast of Traal's surface military. And then trade in our service for some of those trucks if we can find someone willing to pay us for services already rendered. Next time we find a secret passage to benefit the war effort, charge outrageously for it's location. VanSandman fucked around with this message at 17:24 on Jan 18, 2015 |
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Jan 18, 2015 17:17
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Jan 18, 2015 17:47
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This is definitely management material! Seconding research about the water purifier trucks and regiment they're attached to. Where are these guys getting their supplies from? If something were to happen to their independent supply train and their trucks were stolen and dismantled, we could provide help by offering a great discount for the use of our space elevator, top notch security and access to our supplies and market.
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Jan 18, 2015 18:22
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VanSandman posted:I like the Leftmost Mechadendrite as a regimental nickname
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Jan 18, 2015 18:44
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JT Jag posted:No, no, you mistake me. We're gonna call ourselves the Leftmost Mechadendrite of the Omnissiah. Us, personally. Oh that's good. I like that.
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Jan 18, 2015 20:25
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I like Tunnel Cats 
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Jan 18, 2015 20:28
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my dad posted:I like Tunnel Cats For Regiment name, yes please
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Jan 18, 2015 20:28
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my dad posted:I like Tunnel Cats Do they rule?
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Jan 18, 2015 20:42
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Believe it or not, it isn't a Fallout Reference http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tunnel_rat
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Jan 19, 2015 00:32
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That convinced me. Tunnel Cats
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Jan 19, 2015 00:58
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Tunnel Cats
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Jan 19, 2015 00:58
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mepstein73 posted:Also, do we have any chemists in the thread? I'm curious what interacts badly with gold. We've killed a few major baddies, (Abraxus and the psider) so maybe take a name/title like "The [chemical] Spidereater". After all, have you SEEN a spidereater?! They're terrifying. They almost look like they have mechadendrites themselves.
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Jan 19, 2015 18:14
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Thanks Rockopolis! Now we just need a way to work this into a title.
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Jan 19, 2015 18:28
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Tunnel cats and leftmost mechadendrite, got it. School starts tomorrow, so that will be keeping me busy while I get oriented. Meanwhile, question for the thread. A couple friends have suggested I start a Patreon account, so readers can chip in a dollar or whatever for each post. Is that something people here might be interested in? / Would the Black Library eat my soul if I had a paypal page for fanfics in their playground?
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Jan 20, 2015 05:18
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I can chip in a few bucks a month, sure. Nothing this month though, dental bills and medicines took a big dent out of my budget.
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Jan 20, 2015 05:27
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LowellDND posted:Tunnel cats and leftmost mechadendrite, got it. GW doesn't like people making money off of their IP. They SERIOUSLY don't like it. Even if it's donations, they will send you a C&D letter if they find out.
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Jan 20, 2015 05:29
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Game's Workshop is notoriously lawsuit happy, so I'd recommend seeking legal advice if that is an option!
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Jan 20, 2015 05:31
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You would have to start a Patreon for Something Totally Unrelated To Games Workshop Guys, but hey, total coincidence, it seems your production in Games Workshop fanfiction also seems to increase the more money you get.
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Jan 20, 2015 05:44
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If they are lawsuit happy I'd shy away from starting a Patreon
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Jan 20, 2015 05:58
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My advice is not to take money for anything remotely GW related, even if that's only a small part of what you do.
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Jan 20, 2015 07:02
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If you keep churning out Ohones exploits gratis... I may be persuaded to chip in convince you to continue another CYOA in which a mouse devours a lump of cheese ad infinitum.
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Jan 20, 2015 08:01
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Outrail posted:If you keep churning out Ohones exploits gratis... I may be persuaded to chip in convince you to continue another CYOA in which a mouse devours a lump of cheese ad infinitum. An open mind is like a cheese shop with its doors unbarred and unguarded.
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Jan 20, 2015 11:55
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Seriously though a Patreon is a bad idea because GW loves to sue.
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Jan 20, 2015 16:00
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Good points about the GW lawsuit bit. I'd definitely support a "Help LowellDND write great collaborative literature!" Patreon, where you're not just writing Ohone's adventures, perhaps. Maybe even have a 1-3/week schedule for a couple stories, (based on funding), not all of which are in the 40k universe. In fact, if you just keep this one going as a "not really part of the Patreon, but hey, if you like it and have a SA account go read it," that could be a way to get around that. I
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Jan 20, 2015 16:49
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Thats a good point everyone. After talking with my gf, we decided it would be better if I did a fitness blog instead. Basic idea is that Ill do the couch25k program, and then a marathon. I used to do 50 mile weeks, and I want to get back into it. And hey, maybe I can turn it into a real book sometime. If this sounds interesting to you, check it out. https://www.patreon.com/user?u=502147 Completely separate from this, I am starting my coffee and cooking up the next Ohone post.
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Jan 22, 2015 07:06
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Headquarters Essentially every building in the base was its own independent nest of fortifications. They took advantage of the existing terrain, towers rising and falling as they overlooked the endless walls. Countless troops marched this way and that, trucks rumbling, tanks devouring the earth in long lines that headed North. It was a city in truth, one that breathed and dreamed war. The Headquarters building was deep underground. More of a complex, really, with the top-most layer being formed of walls and barracks, an elite unit that brooked no rebellion. They looked over the nearby terrain with hard, unblinking eyes, and their gear was the best you could have asked for. Gilded and in perfect condition, they were easily centuries old. It looked like the ammo itself had been individually blessed and consecrated. They looked down at you as you approached, leaning over their heavy guns. The Headquarters complex was a hive of activity, hundreds of people entering and leaving, messengers, officers, mercenaries, the nobility. The lines of entrance were carefully maintained, however. No one got through without being checked by the security, who had a sheen over their eyes. Cybernetic implants, overviewing the pass list. Judging by the discoloured mud on the ground, it looked as if someone had tried testing it. The last idea of their life, in all certainty. The sentries stared at you with laser-like focus, and you fought the urge to shift nervously. There was something unpleasantly predatory in how they looked, how they moved. They almost acted like birds of prey, and you wondered how they had been augmented, and to what extent. It was surely beyond your capability at the moment. They finally let you pass with a nod, and you strode forward as if you owned the place. If your rivals sensed weakness they would eat you alive, and you weren’t going to let some cadre of meatsacks do that. Instead, you shouldered your way through the crowded hallways. Even though you were half the height of most people here (did the Nallani come from a low-gravity world?), you demanded the respect that was your due. The interior design lacked any maps, and was built to a certain complexity for security purposes. However, you sensed the overarching design - a variant of the fractal builds the Sectutors liked to use. Almost without thought, you made your way deeper into the vaults, down sets of stairs and countless office rooms. The heart of the war was in this place. You lost count of the number of colonels and generals you saw here, all coordinating a vast war effort on a front a thousand miles wide. Here, too, were an army of mercenary officers and nobles and their retinue, all working their way deeper, trying to reach the most important thing in the world - access to the General and his Court. Access was power, after all. Access was everything. And fortunately for you, you were an Emissary of a Trading Family. Not only that, but your Family was the primary support cord for this Army. Without the Beast, supplies would stop. And it was that leverage that meant the General would be determined to keep your Family happy (in so much as that could be used; there was a war on after all, and things could be pushed too far). It was also that leverage that meant you could find ways to keep in good standing with the General, even as others would never reach him. Sometimes, you could understand the thrill in what Limosa did. There could be a pleasure to it, breaking down hierarchies and power relations into their component gears and cogs. And rebuilding them into a machine that was more fitting to your purposes. Deep under the earth, past tons of cement and steel, you finally reached the inner sanctum. You had passed even more layers of sentries and patrols, all determined to keep the heart of the war beating. Your rough calculations suggested the headquarters complex could take a direct hit with a burrowing fission bomb and still survive and function. Two or three might be pushing it, though. You hoped that the counterbatteries were good around here, or that the xenos hadn’t discovered fission yet. Absently, you thought you should try to find out more about the xenos. It was odd how little you were being told about them. You knew that the standard doctrine for civilians was to keep them safe from ideas that might cause them harm (like the true disposition of xenos), but it seemed rather important that you find out at least some details. The innermost room was built like an upside down ziggurat, and you took a moment to appreciate the accoustics. The General, at the very bottom, could direct his voice easily to one person or all. He did so effortlessly, managing the hundred or so people who were vying for his attention. You could see how the room had been set up, with little nests or nooks dedicated to certain activities. Dominating the center of the room was a massive map, some ten by twenty meters across. You could even see the tiny contours of the model mountains and rolling terrain, and tiny figurines were pushed inches at a time by long wooden arms that stretched across the room. Looking closer, you could see the figurines labeled - each one was notated as a regiment or division. Orbiting around the General and his map, a half dozen alcoves. Starting from your left, a nest of clerks, administratum, paper shufflers from the bureaucracy. Adepts and servitor skulls surrounded them, and the quiet buzzing of cogitators never ceased. Glancing over, they seemed to be personnel records. The next alcove over seemed to be dedicated to psykers. Precogs, telepaths, adepts of a different sort. They cast bones and read the Emperor’s Tarot and placed red outlines and arrows on the map. They seemed distraught about something though - the bones were all coming up the same face, and the cards didn’t seem to be making any sense at all. Across the other side of the room, your own kind. More technically, on the left were the nobility. They were staring daggers at each other, and making bets, and drinking. Their retinue seemed dedicated to trying to make them happy, or at least entertained, and the nobles bristled when they saw you enter. They had no pleasure in another rival. On the right of them, the Tech-Priests. They were buried in a web of wires (something that reminded you unpleasantly of the psider), operating the communications hub. You could see radios, wiring and codes, and even the occasional telepath. Messengers went from there to every other hub, and it was nearly as active as the General, down below. Coming around, directly on your right, the war planners. A dozen or so generals, aged with experience and hopefully wisdom. At their center, a Magos of tremendous size and power. Even just sitting relaxed, you knew he was the most dangerous thing in the room, and you could only dream to someday reach a tenth of that. Finally, of course, at the core of it all, the hub the wheel spun around. General Zetkin, first of his name, the leader and hero of a million men. --- Lord, but I’m tired. Getting all the school paperwork set up has been exhausting. I’m still brainstorming what’s going to happen with the truck heist, so lets do some socializing at HQ for a bit. Who do we talk to first? A. Tech-Priests (include if you want to talk to the Magos) B. The nobility C. The mercenaries D. The officers (include if you want to talk to the General) E. Someone Else. Also, say if you want to find out anything in particular, or want me to just eyeball it.
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Jan 22, 2015 09:20
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May as well buddy up with the Tech-Priests, they get everywhere for everyone to do anything; they might have some useful information for us about things we can do for the General without bothering him directly. Oh, and do speak to the Magos.
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Jan 22, 2015 09:46
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Serpentis posted:May as well buddy up with the Tech-Priests, they get everywhere for everyone to do anything; they might have some useful information for us about things we can do for the General without bothering him directly. This looks good to me.
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Jan 22, 2015 09:59
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A. They are our people more than any of the others, but do try to be polite about it to the rest.
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Jan 22, 2015 10:07
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LowellDND posted:Thats a good point everyone. After talking with my gf, we decided it would be better if I did a fitness blog instead. Basic idea is that Ill do the couch25k program, and then a marathon. I used to do 50 mile weeks, and I want to get back into it. And hey, maybe I can turn it into a real book sometime. You poor man. Not even the craziest Cult of Chaos will torture people by making them run. What horrendous crimes against humanity did you commit to have such a terrible punishment heaped upon you?  The Mercenaries might be more willing to divulge information on these xenos than the guard proper; they might be willing to lend a hand in
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Jan 22, 2015 14:20
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Say a quick hi to the Nobs, then head over to the Mercs. We need to keep our hand in the family, even if we bypass them on the way to taking control of the ship (via a shipping psider web) they can be a nuisance and we need them onside. But the Mercs are more likely to help us do
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Jan 22, 2015 14:52
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A. Talk to the Tech Priests first and definitely pay our respects to the Magos. We can talk to the mercs or whoever later but we should make sure we acknowledge the faithful of Mars foremost. I'm guessing we should ask about Xenos attacks on military and civilian organisations (including say independent supply lines) and who takes care of the maintenance of the equipment of the nearby regiments. That way we can find out more about the goals of the Xenos as well as gather information to prepare to steal the trucks.
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Jan 22, 2015 14:56
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LowellDND posted:You could see how the room had been set up, with little nests or nooks dedicated to certain activities. Dominating the center of the room was a massive map, some ten by twenty meters across. You could even see the tiny contours of the model mountains and rolling terrain, and tiny figurines were pushed inches at a time by long wooden arms that stretched across the room. Looking closer, you could see the figurines labeled - each one was notated as a regiment or division. Sounds like someone's been playing Warhammer 40,000 on the job. Haha. My vote is A, tech priests. Maybe they'll have useful info on the xeno capabilities too.
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Jan 22, 2015 15:14
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