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Major_Slovak
Moderator
| Joined: | Wed Aug 3rd, 2005 |
| Location: | Zombie |
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Posted: Wed Feb 28th, 2007 06:56 pm |
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the sound of marching feet. The Battalion of the Colonies does approach and readies for war.
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Brother Tiberius
Moderator
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Posted: Fri Mar 2nd, 2007 12:03 am |
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That sounds entirely too precise and rythmic for the Lost and the Damned, aka, the Chumps of Chaos...
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Major_Slovak
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| Joined: | Wed Aug 3rd, 2005 |
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Posted: Fri Mar 2nd, 2007 05:32 pm |
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The chumps of chaos? You say chump like it's some sort of a bad thing. . .
Dregs of the universe we might be, but there's a freedom to that at least. Better to be a Chump of Chaos than a slave to some ziplock dipshit of an emperor, wallowing in the fetid mire of his own shallow infected memory, the prisoner of his self-styled colostomy bag; more bed sore than god, impotent prisoner of the great ruse, deep fried and brainless and propped up on the scabbed boney elbows of the 'known' universe, the byzantine dildo, stuffed chimp, brain-dead and plugged in like an alarm clock that cannot keep time, a barely living metaphor devoid of meaning, the stubborn insistence on abject failure, a bowling trophy for Horus.
Better to be, I believe, a chump of the unknowable or a fool to the wilderness of your own desire than a posturing Astartes chambermaid boot-polisher, the stalwart defender of the absence of intelligence. Better to be the dregs of the Imperium than an employee of the Imperium, library of sewage, the blindfolded hall monitor of a colossal, malignant DMV.
Word up. Drinks for all my men, we ride at dawn.
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grimlock35
Member
| Joined: | Sun May 15th, 2005 |
| Location: | Big Bend,WI |
| Posts: | 188 |
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Posted: Fri Mar 2nd, 2007 11:12 pm |
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the battalion of the collonies...the name left a sour taste in the mouth of marshal typhon. These lawless dregs were far removed from the grace of the holy emperor of mankind. Heretic's and blasphemers, there was no place for them.
Lord marshall news from the reliquary. chaplain Grimaldius has said a brother has seen the visions of sigismund! the black sword and armor of faith are being readied as we speak. This was excellent news for the 2nd luna crusade has been with out an emperors champion since brother gryphon had fallen in firce combat with a greater deamon. The light of the emperor was shining brightly this day.
As the crusade was preparing for planet fall, a hush fell upon the assembled company as the new emperors champion brother Apollo mad his way to the dias. in passing each and every templar fell to one knee in reverence of this mighty hero. Then as brother Apollo began to speak the assembled marines repeated his words. "O Emperor, in wrath rejoicing at bloody wars;fierce and untaimed. whose mighty power doth make the strongest walls from their foundations shake. All-conquering Master of Mankind, Be pleased with this war's tumultuous roar. Delight in swords and fists red with alien blood, and the dire ruin of savage battle. Rejoice in furious challenge, and avenging strife, whose works with woe embitter human life!"
As`the black templars were making planetfall Typhon knew that this assault would be glorious en deed!
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Brother Tiberius
Moderator
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Posted: Fri Mar 2nd, 2007 11:40 pm |
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Major_Slovak wrote: The chumps of chaos? You say chump like it's some sort of a bad thing. . .
Dregs of the universe we might be, but there's a freedom to that at least. Better to be a Chump of Chaos than a slave to some ziplock dipshit of an emperor, wallowing in the fetid mire of his own shallow infected memory, the prisoner of his self-styled colostomy bag; more bed sore than god, impotent prisoner of the great ruse, deep fried and brainless and propped up on the scabbed boney elbows of the 'known' universe, the byzantine dildo, stuffed chimp, brain-dead and plugged in like an alarm clock that cannot keep time, a barely living metaphor devoid of meaning, the stubborn insistence on abject failure, a bowling trophy for Horus.
Better to be, I believe, a chump of the unknowable or a fool to the wilderness of your own desire than a posturing Astartes chambermaid boot-polisher, the stalwart defender of the absence of intelligence. Better to be the dregs of the Imperium than an employee of the Imperium, library of sewage, the blindfolded hall monitor of a colossal, malignant DMV.
Word up. Drinks for all my men, we ride at dawn.
Geez Pete, could you work any more adjectives in there?
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Pen dull
Member
| Joined: | Wed Apr 13th, 2005 |
| Location: | Milw., Wisconsin USA |
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Posted: Sat Apr 14th, 2007 08:32 am |
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Orks are gunna hit 'em in da head. Wit' an axe. 'Nuff said.
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