DISCLAIMER:
All trademarked items in this fanfiction is owned by their respected copyright holders (Warhammer 40k is Game Workshop's, Familiar of Zero is Noboru Yamaguchi's). The ones which are owned by me are merely the plot and the author's thoughts. This fanfiction is made solely for entertainment purposes and not intended for any material gain.
Thoughts are in italic.
The Waaaagh of Zero
A Familiar of Zero/Warhammer 40k crossover
Rokk Stabraeka grunted. He laid his weapon, Da Gittax, on the crude table provided by the workshop. He ran his meaty fingers on it lovingly, tracing the chips and grooves on the weapon. While promising blood and violence on every swing, the chain-axe seems to be intended for something else.
"'Ey der Rokk. 'Ere to tweak on Gittax 'gain?" another Ork asked as he entered the room. The newcomer is almost as big as Rokk himself, if clad in more metal bits than Rokk. A few bandoliers and utility belt jingled at the newcomer's person.
"Yeah, Big Mek Roddlejamma. Got dis dere hunch," Rokk replied, reaching for a slightly-bent screwdriver from a nearby toolbox. "Dat Da Gittax can be tweaked t'be betta still."
"Eeh. Ya been wochin' doze 'umie disks 'gain?" Roddlejamma said, taking a good look on Gittax from his position across Rokk. "Dis 'ere screw, needs t' be bigger."
"Yeah, you're right," Rokk professed as he accepted some bigger screws handed by Roddlejamma. "Mite need stronger stringies tho."
"Eh, ye'll get ye want da next raid," Roddlejamma said as he took the contraption and strummed the thick strings, all six of them. Satisfied with the pitch, Rokk nodded approvingly.
A Nob of the Blood Axez Clan, Rokk has always been something of an oddity. While most Nobs are content to leave most everything to their Boyz and support crew in pursuit of some semblance of disciplining the horde, Rokk prefers to maintain his personal wargear alone. Since his retinue is a rather small one, nobody really objected. As a result, Rokk has some semblance of mechanical knowledge.
"Boss! Boss!" a small gretchin barged into the warehouse suddenly.
"Shaddup ya lil' grot!" Roddlejamma shot a withering glare to the gretchin. "Big boyz be workin' 'ere!"
"No Boss! Iz da 'umies!" the gretchin replied. "Sum patrol boyz saw 'em near 'ere!"
"Well, time to get Rokkin'," Rokk said, hefting Da Gittax to his shoulder. "Ready da bikes, Big Mek. We gonna rokk it good."
"Aye, Boss! WAAAAAAGH!" Roddlejamma replied.
"WAAAAAAAAGH!"
…
"Miss Louise Francoise de la Valliere, please step forth before the summoning circle."
Louise steeled herself. The time has come for her to prove that she is a mage, just like everyone else. Her bloodline, the Valliere, has been one of the most illustrious in the Kingdom of Tristain; such weight tolerate no failure. Such is the Rule of Iron.
"My name is Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière. Pentagon of the five elemental power, heed my plea and bring forth my familiar!" the young mage intoned. For a second, hope welled inside her as she felt her magic circuits pulse with power. With this, she could stand in the crowd of mages! With this, maybe she won't be such a failure in her mother's eyes! With this…
A loud bang ensued, kicking up a sizable amount of dust cloud. Some students, who are nearer to the summoning circle, coughed from inhaling some of dust. Some of the people have started to snigger, belittling Louise for her inability of casting spells.
"As expected from the Zero!" one boy jeered.
"She just can't do any magic!" one girl stage-whispered to the other, between giggles.
"And she had the gall to stage a parlor trick like this…" another girl murmured.
Louise just stood there, finally convinced that she's a total failure.
However, between the demeaning remarks and slight wind, something remains. In the middle of the dust cloud, something stood.
"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
The shout seemed to rattle not only the teeth of those who listened it, but also the ground. The cloud of dust and soot from the explosive summoning Louise has done was instantly swept away, revealing a green-skinned muscular figure standing in the middle of the summoning circle. It stood more than six and a half feet albeit hunched, holding what seemed to be a mishmash of metal and blades in the shape of a guitar merged with a giant axe. Blood and assorted bits of body parts stained the equally-mismatched metal armor thicker than an average knight's.
"An orc! Louise summoned an orc!" a student jeered after a bout of stunned silence. A repectable feat of his own, considering all of them has been stunned silly just a moment ago.
"Heresy! This is heresy!" a female student 'helpfully' pointed out.
"The hell-" a dark-skinned redhead muttered, drawing her wand back in preparation of a spell.
"Wait," a short blue-haired girl beside her said in a flat tone. "Binding Rituals. Stand back."
"WOT DA ZOG IS DIS!?" The green-skinned summoned being bellowed, hefting his weapon high while facing the nearest boy behind him. The bald lecturer supervising the whole thing readied his spell. "LIL' 'UMIES LININ' TA GET KRUMPED?!"
"HEY YOU!" Louise shouted, trying desperately to divert the attention of the seven-feet mountain of green-skinned muscle to her. "YEAH YOU, YOU DUMB ORC! I'M THE ONE WHO GOT YOU HERE!"
"NOBODY TAKES ROKK FROM 'IS BATTLEFIELD! PUNY 'UMIE WILL BE KRUMPED!" the orc bellowed, axe coming down with great force to Louise's head. "WAAAAAGH!"
In that split-second, something welled inside Louise's chest. It burns like liquid fire expanding in her meager torso. It welled up into her throat, yearning to be released. So release it Louise did.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
Scant centimeters from her forehead, the grisly weapon stopped. Everyone held their breath, save for Louise, whose ragged breath of fatigue only contradicted by her defiant stare.
"…Boss…" the orc murmured, yellow eyes meeting pink.
"DAMN RIGHT I'M YOUR BOSS!" Louise bellowed, not wanting to lose her momentum. "NOW KNEEL DOWN SO I CAN BIND YOU!"
"Yes Boss!" the orc immediately complied, dropping to his knees.
"…Will this be enough, professor Colbert?" Louise said, panting a little.
"Y-yes! Please bind this beast quickly, before it rampages!" the bald professor said, his readied fireball still hovering on the tip of his staff.
"Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers, grant your blessings upon this creature and bind it as my familiar!" Louise bellowed, touching her wand to the orc's forehead. Well, maybe not so much 'touching' as 'whacking'. With a small flash, runes inscribed itself on the orc's left hand, a row of eight black runes standing out against the green of his skin like a tattoo.
"W-well… this concludes it, then," the teacher reluctantly conceded as he sketched the runes for documentation, with great haste. "With this, the Springtime Familiar Summoning Ritual is done! Tomorrow you all will have a free day to get to know your familiars better! Class is dismissed!"
With the other students marching out of the field, some with greater haste than others, fatigue finally caught up with Louise. She fell down to the ground, panting heavily like a horse exposed to desert heat.
"Boss? Ya okay?" the orc said, looming over Louise in concern.
"I'm okay… well, not that okay," Louise squeaked out. For all her earlier bluster, she is just a girl with children stamina. All the events has more or less drained her out, Rule of Iron or not. "Familiar, I command you to carry me to my room."
"Aight, Boss," the ork dutifully said, putting the exhausted girl on his shoulder. A few moments passed in silence, as Louise realized that they have yet to move. "Urrr… which way, Boss?"
"Thought so…" Louise grunted tiredly. Fortunately, out of the corner of her eye, she spots a maid approaching nervously, perhaps to clean the courtyard.
"Maid!" Louise exclaimed. The maid promptly approaches.
"Y-yes milady?" the short-haired maid said, somewhat intimidated by the mountain of muscle.
"Guide my familiar to my room, and then wash my clothes after I rest," Louise commanded.
"Yes milady. R-right this way, Mr. Familiar…" the maid said.
…
"There you go…" the short-haired maid said, tucking Louise in after taking care of her soiled clothes. The pink-haired noble fell asleep halfway through the journey. Her tasks mostly done, she hauled the laundry basket and exited the spacious room.
"You done, 'umie?" the familiar asked as the maid stepped outside the door.
"Yes," the maid amicably said, shutting the door. "Um… can I ask you a question, Mr. Familiar?"
"Urm… sure, I guess?" the familiar replied.
"How does an orc live?" the maid asked, setting down the laundry basket. "I… I heard your people rape, burn, pillage, and eat babies…"
"Urr… wot's babies? Wot's rape?" the familiar replied, tilting its head in clear confusion. "I dunno stuff like dat. 'E'd just go eat squigs, drink grog, an' krump sum otha boyz. Mebbe loot sum bitz while we're at it."
"Eh?" the maid managed to say in surprise. "Well… do you want to get some food? You look like you're hungry…"
"Yea! Takes a full stomach to run a Waaagh," the orc said, his tone happy.
"Well then, follow me," the maid said, lifting up the laundry basket. "I'm sure chef Marteau will have some leftovers you can eat."
"Aight!" the orc enthusiastically replied.
…
Far o'er da misty mount'ns cold,
Da holes o' deep, caves zoggen old,
Must pack n' go, ere break o' day,
To get da bitz 'e long fergot
Louise drifted to wakefulness as she heard strummed strings resonating in her room. Oh yeah, orc familiar… she whispered to herself. Though I distinctly remembered that orcs are hunter-gatherers at best, menacing mad pillagers at worst… never artisans, much less humanly-passable performers like this… I wonder if he's some sort of nobility…
"Boss! Ya okay?" the orc asked as he stopped playing his instrument, turning to the waking girl.
"I'm okay, familiar. Just a little weak," Louise said while propping himself to the headboard. A quick gaze outside reveals to the girl that night has fallen, and moonlight lit the room. "What's that song earlier? Is it the song of your tribe?"
"Zat? Naah, no' really… tend t' sing nonsense wen I'm muckin' n' quiet-like, Boss," the orc answered, putting down his instrument.
"I… see," Louise said in a low tone. "Do you have somewhere to go back to?"
"Da boyz I left 'ere prolly joined 'nuvva warband, or krumpin' za ottha boyz wit' Roddlejamma," the orc said. "But eh, dere will be boyz joinin' ya soon, Boss. Always da case."
"Eh? You mean…" Louise said, her face losing a little bit of color.
"E'll gather sum boyz an' make a warband, den go WAAAGH an' krump evryone 'round! Dat's da right n' proppa Orky way!" the orc happily said.
"No! There's no war going on around here!" Louise bellowed. "You will not gather a war-anything until I say so! Boss' orders!"
"Urr… well, so 'e ar' jus' gunna muck 'round, Boss?" the orc asked, tilting his head in confusion.
"Well… this is probably going to be hard to explain to you barbarian…" Louise groused, hand massaging her temples. "Listen. I need to be better at magic so I can be a bigger boss than I am now. I'm currently in a low rank because I can only make things explode."
"Eeh? But ya got da WAAAGH down pat, Boss! Ain't nuffin is stronger!" the orc argued.
"Well… sometimes it's more than shouting at the top of your lungs," Louise said in a low tone, before pointing to a stack of hay on the corner of the room. "Anyway, I'm going to get some rest. You can sleep at that haystack tonight… see if I can get you a cot next time."
"Aight Boss," the orc said.
"Oh, and familiar… do you have a name?" Louise said as she made herself comfortable again. "I don't feel like calling you 'familiar' forever, you know."
"Rokk Stabraeka, Boss," the orc said.
"Alright, Rokk…" Louise said. "…um, can you sing that song again? I like hearing it… just don't get too loud."
"No prob, Boss," Rokk replied, hefting his instrument once more.
Mount'n burnin' under da moon
Ain't gunna blabber, 'e'll be dere soon
O'er boyz a WAAAGH zat krumpin' on
N' all who got us will know the WAAAGH
That night, Louise dreamed. She dreamed of standing on a plain slicked with blood. She dreamed of the deafening din of battle, of roaring behemoths of steel, of shrieking weapon wet by blood. She dreamed of walking beside green-skinned metal-clad soldiers. That night, she dreamed of the WAAAGH.
And it was glorious.
Sum Boss 'e nevar fergot
Othar boyz we nevar stoppn'
Ain't seen the last 'o us yet
'E'll fight as long as 'e live
All eyes on za zoggin' Eye
Keep shootas n' choppas on
'E'll WAAAGH on za crashin' storm
'Til' 'e got za bitz 'e long-fergot
A/N:
Well, that's it then, the first fic where Louise summoned an Ork. One armed with a guitar-ified chain-axe =)) Also, as far as the crossovers go, amongst the WH40k races only the Tau is left. I don't think I get the lore accurate enough, but hey. Orks are made for rokkin =)) Expect some canon butchery from both sides, slow updates, Orkified songs, and other stuff. Reviews for the Review God! Favs for the Favvy Throne!
