Authors note: Sorry for the recent delay in getting chapters out, a mixture of emergency household repairs, a minor writers block, and visiting family made for a hectic writing schedule. The following chapter is long, and it was difficult for me to write, because it's a bit dark. I don't like writing awful things for the sake of being horrible or cruel, however I do believe in being honest to the subject material, and while Orks are often a subject of humor for the 40k universe, the truth is that an Ork raid would be a terrible thing to behold for its victims. The following explores just that. I hope to have accurately expressed the horror and graphic nature of an Ork raid without being overtly gratuitous.
There was an explosion of gore and viscera as a stream of Orkish projectiles shredded one of the pathetic humans. A satisfied smirk grew onto the Ork's massive face as he watched ropes of flesh and blood drip off the wall of the nearby building. His gun was working well, and that made Tniffguff happy. It was a shoota of massive design with three rotating barrels. Weighing in at over 100 pounds, Tniffguff had a hauler-squig bread for just the occasion to carry the ammo for the massive gun. The four legged beast was immensely strong, immensely obedient, and immensely stupid. He called it Furp. Carrying several thousand rounds of ammo on Furp's back, a dispenser gave out a belt of ammo which fed directly into Guff's prized possession. This left the Big Mek's back free to carry other important things, like his combination wrench/axe, or`his bag of tools foreign in their design and ubsurd to all minds but his own.
He also planned to build some sort of shield device, if only he could find a crystal of the right resonance and design. Of course such words and terms were lost on the green brute, he simply knew that he needed a shiny rock, and he would know it when he saw it. Such distractions however were quickly drowned out by the cacophony of his kustom-shoota. Seeing another fleeing pink-skin run from the burning house, he leveled the massive gun and squeezed the firing mechanism. The barrels took several seconds to spool up and required him to rev the guns engine before he could count on it firing jam free. A belch of black smoke signaled the gun's firing state, and he let loose another stream of projectiles into the fleeing form. Another explosion of flesh signaled his success and he let loose a cruel laugh. This village would be as easily ransacked as the other ones.
Tniffguff had taken upon himself a new Title: WoodBurna. Feeling an natural affinity to fire, and appreciating the way it consumed and destroyed in order to grown stronger, He had decided that an appropriate level of hatred for the pathetic and spindly material known as wood could be expressed with his new honorific. Now the leader of a band over several thousand strong, he had already beaten several lesser bosses to death, and used one as a still living torch to start the blaze in honor of his Orkish Gods.
The weakling's shrill screams of agony as his muscle tissues took wick was a perfect honor to Orkish tradition and culture. The lesser beast was made subservient to the stronger one, and was forced to carry out the stronger beasts will. That Tniffguff's will was to use the weaker boss as a living fireball was merely an unfortunate happenstance for the lesser beast. The real lack of luck was built into its Orkish physiology. That it possessed such a resilient biology meant that it served its purpose of ceremonial torch for quite a bit longer than most beings would be capable of. As far as Tniffguff was concerned the weakling should have been proud to do his religious duty. Oh well, 'E wuz a pathedik won.
Tniffguff had also discovered a new interest in his life, aside from the desire to build things, and set things of fire. On the night of the massive blaze, as the Ork camp was taken by a wave of primal furor, The band's psychic weirdboy had been taken into a ferocious trance. As several thousand Orks had unleashed a unified Waaagh into the dark sky, a beam of green light had descended from the hazy night, and engulfed him in pure psychic energy. Opening his mouth, the Weirdboy had spoken with a thousand Orky voices, and charged Tniffguff with the command to…fly? It had been a shock, but as quickly as he had heard the prophetic commands born of the gestalt group consciousness, the idea had taken root into his brain, and once planted, his chaotic imagination quickly grew it into a wickedly brilliant driving force. Still it remained that if he were to make good on the plans, they were going to need more metal.
Several raids had since passed, and each had provided the Orks with more and more raw materials. Tniffguff's Mek assistants were hard at work pumping out dakka. They were now able to field a whole company of boys armed with shootas. Metal was still precious to the lads, and It had been a stroke of genius on one of his lesser mek's parts to use the stone in the earth as projectiles. There was a simple brilliance to the design that made Tniffguff proud of the little runt. The stone was prone to shattering when the homemade explosive powder was ignited, and the net effect was to send a sizable chunk of stone ripping through the air with relative accuracy, and well as several smaller shards exploding out from behind It in random directions. This natural combination of scattergun and assault rifle left permanent grins on the faces of all the lads who had the privilege to fire the crude weapons. The simple brutality and elegance of the design was so great that Tniffguff was decided to keep the lesser Mek around. He had even rewarded the scrawny engineer with a Tniffguff special made powerklaw. The lesser Mek had no inkling of how close he had come to receiving the other Tniffguff special; Hostile procurement of the title of inventor of said technology and removal of its real inventor as fuel for the workshops furnace. Living fuel of course. He held credit for serval engineering feats procured in just such a fashion.
-111111-
It was a nightmare scenario for any parent. Hordes of greenskins had simply appeared at the edge of their village, and the old metallic walls had done little to hold the waves of hatful monsters out. It was still shocking for BIlko as the image of a veritable wave of green flesh pouring over his beloved walls was seared into his mind's eye. He was still unsure of how they had scaled such a thing as the Krill! Their village had survived multiple generations of inter village conflict and bandit raids, and the people of his town had grown confident in its protection. Meters thick of reinforced steel and ceramic sheeting towered 50-60 feet into the air, and offered a massive bulwark designed by imperial engineers to stand against full-scale attacks from invading armies.
After several hundred years without imperial contact, the military outpost known as the Krill had been abandoned for official usage by the high city of Almendril, and Bilko's people had quickly settled the abandoned structures and made them a home of their own. In all the Krill had been a blessing from the emperor himself, and had left his people as a force to be reckoned with economicly. Safe from literally all threats they had grown prosperous as the entirety of their efforts were now focused on farming and harvesting resources. They had even put the industrial drills to use within the miniature city, and young men were oft known to prove their mettle harvesting raw materials from under the earth. In all, The Krill was an ideal frontier town on a colonial wilderness.
This had also left it as an ideal target for the hungry expansion of Tniffguffs blaze. A mere week earlier the Massive greenskin had brazenly walked up to their front gates, and demanded their surrender. His words had been punctuated by the overnight arrival of a massive host in his wake. The opening of the gates was demanded, and when he went unanswered, a foul sneer had shown evidence of his wicked intentions.
How they had breached the walls was still unknown to Bilko. It had seemed as if they had tunneled up right through the massive structure, like a Ground Tursh in the field to the east. That simply had to be impossible, yet the howling tide of wicked terror running rampant in his beloved home was proof enough that some sort of infamous miracle had taken place. He supposed a miracle from an Orkish god was the foulest of damnation from any other.
"Bilko, what do we do?" It was his younger brother, Ishmi. Emperor bless the young man, Instead of rushing to meet the attacking monsters head on, he had respected Bilko's request, and had run strait to the house to protect the family. With the Krill fallen, that was all they could do now: get the women and children to safety. If they could just get them to the mining tunnels, He had no doubt that Ishmi could lead them from there to the Eternal Forest. Ishmi was a good hunter, and Bilko knew he could count in his little brother to protect his charges. They just had to get free of the immediate danger…
"Ishmi, gather everyone up, and on my mark, you lead them to the tunnels, and you don't stop for anything." He grabbed his brothers shoulder and pulled him in close, placing his mouth to the younger man's ear. "Don't stop for anything. If we get attacked, if they get ahold of anyone, you leave them behind. If you stop, they all die. Better to lose some, then the whole group." Ishmi pulled away and looked to the cowering group of children. By no means the entirety of the city's population, this was merely the best they could do. It was a blessing the Bilko's wife was a teacher, as that put Bilko, Master of the hunters, in close proximity of exactly whom he would want to protect, should the unthinkable happen. Now that it was happening…
Bilko turned his face to beloved wife. Indra was a treasure, and a hero. She stood amongst the children and softly sang to them. Her melodious tones kept them occupied, and seemed to drown out the gun fire and screams that filled the air all around them. Not wishing to interrupt her precious tones, he instead made eye contact with her, and mouthed the words "I love you". A single tear ran down her cheek as she nodded, her voice breaking for only a second. Finally he turned to see his daughter Illo. Bilko did not understand many things in his world, and the horrific miracle she had lived through was beyond his imagination, much less his understanding. Yet still he felt the cool hands of fate upon her life, and he knew it was his duty to get her out alive.
He called her to himself and smiled kneeling before the little girl. She immediately latched onto his chest in fear.
"Daddy, I'm scared!" she whispered. He smiled and looked down into her eyes. Using every ounce of strength avaliable, Bilko put on a confident smile. Speaking quickly he took her hand and held the golden mark between the two of them.
"I am too little one. But remember-" he said holding her hand gently and showing her the golden mark "Heaven has a plan for you." She nodded as her eyes began to fill up with tears.
"What about you and mommy?" she whispered. His honest answer to her question was not something he could share. Bilko was certain that there was indeed a cosmic plan for the two of them, and he was growing more and more confident that the plan was to give his all to keep this little girl alive.
"Heaven has a plan for us too." He said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "Now remember, Follow uncle Ishmi, and be strong for your friends. Illo…" he paused "I love y-"
The building was rocked by a massive explosion which knocked them to the ground. Indra's song was replaced with a horrific shriek as shrapnel tore through her beautiful form. Falling to the ground, she let out a moan of agony as she pulled herself to her knees and hunched over the children laying on the ground. Blood poured from a wound in her chest as she looked to Bilko. "Run" she whispered before another explosion rocked the building. Indra was sent to the great beyond with pride in her heart as her body protected the children before her.
Bilko was given two choices in that simple moment. He could give into the despair and horror of seeing his beloved die, or he could be the leader he was destined to be. Stealing himself, Bilko rose to his feet and drew his sword. Giving commands to his guards, he sent them to clear a path. "Ishmi!" he yelled, "Go. Now!"
-111111-
Without looking he held out his left hand palm open expecting… nothing? That was a mistake. Tniffguff revved the guns engine in disgust and turned to bear on his assistant. As the gun changed directions, the belt of ammo acted as a leash and dragged Furp in the same direction. Furp was all too happy to oblige, and he roared for the sheer glee of fulfilling his life's purpose: carrying things.
The assistant was truly in an unfair place in his life. Guff had given the lad a chance at redemption for his earlier mistake of stupidity and Pulpmish's melted flesh had healed…somewhat. An unholy wreck of a beast, Pulpmish looked much like a wax figurine of an Ork which had been set to close to a fire, he was scarred and warped to a hideous extent.
Guff was not a cruel boss, as far as Guff was concerned. He had given the lad a very important job… Holding his cigar, and replacing it when the old one was smoked to a nub. This was not a hard task, and Pulpmish's failure was inexcusable. That is was literally impossible for an Ork to stand amidst such a target rich environment and not join in in the slaughter was irrelevant, and when Tniffguff took in the scene of Pulpmish hacking a pinkskin to death, instead of holding Tniffguff' cigar at the ready… It was an unforgivable breach of discipline. Revving the gun once more, Tinffguff was disgusted at the lack of cigar in his mouth. Enraged, he gave a bellowing cry and brought the gun to bear on Pulpmish.
-111111-
The pain of the blow was unreal, and Ishmi was left in a foggy state as his body began to shut down. That he was dying was obvious, and he felt fear. He was not afraid to die, he had expected such a thing would be his fate long before. No, Ishmi feared having to face Bilko and Indra in the next life, for his very presence there would mean that he was not in this world for Illo. Warm blood spattered onto his face as he coughed.
It was oddly relaxing dying like this. He had no more worries, and nothing more that he could do. The blow had simply turned off his ability to function. He was somewhat ashamed however. Ishmi had always hoped that he would go down fighting. Yet here he was, and there the greenskin was. What a sight. It was far uglier than any greenskin he had ever seen, as if it had been on the wrong end of afire of some sort. Melted and disfigured, the beast was horrible to behold. And where did it get that cigar from? That was somehow extra disheartening… he was killed by a smoking greenskin. It really wasn't fair either. It wasn't fair how he had died. He had simply walked out the door, ready to lead the children out, and in a blur a massive hunk of metal was sunk into his chest. That shifty ork Kinfilk.
His whole body shook with the impact of another strike. The general haze of pain was pierced by a massive blow to the chest. There was no wind knocked from his lungs, his open chest cavity simply had no wind. Instead his blurred vison was rattled by the blow. Soon after came another as the beast began hacking into his body. It was odd really. Soon the blade struck down into his chest, but he felt nothing other than the earth beneath his back push to the sides under the massive force. Odd.
Soon he lost interest in the rapid blows as they hacked his body to shreds. In the seconds he had left, there was a small mercy given as the image of Bilko stepped over his body. Ishmi could swear that he heard his brother say something. Maybe an apology? Either way, he didn't mind.
He blinked his eyes in surprise as something green landed next to his face. It was on Ork's head. A hideous thing to see. Something was familiar about the sight, but he could not quite remember it. The head just as surprised as he was it appeared. That made him smile. It was kinda funny really. Besides… The smell of burning Tezki leaves was refreshing, and the Ork's head had the weirdest object between its teeth. It looked to be a cigar of some sorts. That caused him to laugh. Odd, no sound came out. And he was really tired. Maybe he should sleep now, he remembered a promise that he would see his brother soon after this nap. Where was his brother? Was Illo okay?
-111111-
Tnifguff was not pleased. Watching the head of Pulpmish hit the ground, he groaned in anger. It was an inconvenience, and the stupid git had the gall to let his cigar touch the ground? There was no way he was going to let the idiot die. Heads could be reattached, and there would be no fun to be had if the fool died now. If he was dead, how could Tniffguff ridicule him in front of the other lads? While failing to hold the cigar safely was his primary sin as far and Guff cared, the added insult was that the blasted fool had been beheaded by a pinkskin. That was simply too much, and Guff would have to make an example of the foolish little vermin. Scowling he took in the scene before him. All around his lads were engaged in an orgy of slaughter and violence. Pinkskins shrieked in terror as they were torn to bits by Orkish gun fire, or hacked to pieces by the crude blades. There was very little resistance left as the 'uman warriors had been mostly slain upon the walls. Yet here before him was something different. One of the wretched creatures stood glaring into his eyes defiantly. The nerve was insulting. Setting the massive gun down for a moment, Tniffguff reached into his apron and felt around for a new cigar. Taking the time to light it, the voice of the insolent human broke the air.
"You killed my family!" it shrieked in its annoying tongue. Tniffguff did not understand the human language, and could only hazard a guess as to what it was trying to say. Still, its voice was grating and just plain wrong compared to the powerful and guttural tongue practiced by the Orks. Taking a massive drag from his cigar, Tniffguff responded by raising his middle finger. The reaction from the human was perfect as its face warped in anger. That was a language that Guff understood, and it made him laugh.
"Yuz want to 'ave a go?" He bellowed out in challenge to the arrogant little squig. "Fine, 'ave sum 'o dis here!" Tniffguff had set his gun down, but he hadn't turned the engine off. That meant the gun was ready to fire. The human was surprised at the speed in which Tniffguff The Woodburna brought the weapon the bear. It was even more surprised when Tniffguff turned and gave the handle a squeeze right into the building from which the human had come. Through the holes blown in its side, Guff had quickly noticed movement from within. If there was movement inside, and had not come out to join the other pinkskin, Guff reckoned whatever it was, the human was trying to protect it. From the horrified scream of anguish the pathetic git gave out… Guff figured his fire had hit its intended target.
That made Tniffguff laugh and laugh. Through the peppered holes in the wall he saw no movement, save a quickly forming pool of blood. There was a lot of blood as well. It amazed him how much blood the pinkskins had in them, almost as if Gork and Mork had created them specifically to be killed by Orks. They made a wonderful mess when given a proper greenskin kruppin. Closing his eyes he grinned and took in a long deep drag from the cigar, letting the sweet smoke fill his lungs. By chance he happened to open his eye just in time to see the human upon him. That was surprising.
Tniffguff flinched back in surprise and raised his new gun in defence as the human delivered a slashing blow from its sword. The air crackled and popped as the electric blue blade arched strait through the massive shoota, lopping it in two. Both chunks of his beloved toy hit the ground hard as he barked in surprise. Anger exploded through his body as he realized just what had happened. His gun, his gun, had just been destroyed by the pathetic little beast. That loss of such a precious object was heartbreaking. The worst part was that the Human didn't even understand the grave insult it had delivered… You didn't just destroy an Ork's gun and not expect retribution. Behead an assistant? Whatever, Kill a few dozen of his boys? An annoyance. But this pinkskin trash had delivered the gravest of insults, and had taken something cherished from Guff. He almost wanted to cry.
Stepping back from the human he locked eyes with the vermin. It was crying. What did it have to cry about? Bellowing in a blind fury, Tniffguff roared a question to the human as he pulled his axe-wrench from his back.
"What are yuz crying 'bout?" He took a step forward and delivered a massive overhead strike as he shouted "Yoz din lose yer gun!" The axe crashed down hard into the spot where the pinkskin had stood seconds before. To Tniffguffs great surprise the stop was found empty. To his greater surprise the blade came whistling through the air into his face, and pierced through the back of his throat before ripping off to the side. The human's strike missed the massive Ork's spinal column by the smallest margin of error, and failed to sever the all-important cluster of nerves needed to keep the walking bullgrox in action. Such a wound could be recovered from, but in the heat of combat it would have been assuredly fatal as Tniffguff would have immediately been left helpless before Bilko's wrath.
Instead the momentum of Bilko's spiraling footwork pulled the energy blade away from the spinal column, and instead neatly severed the right side of his jaw. Howling in pain, Tniffguff ripped his axe from the ground in an attempt to deflect the next incoming blow. The human was unbelievably fast, and instead he took a stab directly through his chest. Piercing a lung, Tniffguff shrugged off a wound which would have been fatal to any other being. Before he could process the full effect of the blow, or even react, a third lightning blow was delivered severing Tniffguffs arm at the elbow. That got his attention.
Somewhere deep in his soul, an emotion he had not felt since he first crawled from the ground flickered back into life. Tniffguff looked down at his severed arm, felt the pain in his chest, felt his near severed jaw, and simply felt afraid. Were he any other being, such circumstances would have initiated flight for the beast. Unfortunately for Bilko, He was a Boss Mek. A Big Mek. When Tniffguff felt fear he became angry, truly angry. And an angry Ork is a sight to behold.
Bilko redoubled his efforts and delivered a fourth blow directly down onto Tniffguff's shoulder. Given his skill with the deadly energy sword, he fully expected the blade to cleave a chunk of the monster clean off. Instead Tniffguff displayed an act of low cunning and instead of ducking or moving from the blow, he instead stepped into it, taking the blow fully on the shoulder. The full momentum of the strike was lost as the blade struck near the hilt instead of it full fulcrum length. This slowed the deadly edge just enough to stop the blade in Guff's body. Feeling the sensation of being almost fully cleaved in two, the entire left side of his body went numb as it was separated from the never cluster. Expecting the blade to pass right through, Bilko was caught off guard just long enough to be left vulnerable. Instead of using his speed to his advantage, he instead stopped and stared dumbly up at the massive horror before him, mouth agape. For a split second the two warriors locked eyes. "Fool" Tniffguff grunted at the man, which in turn blew rancid spit and ash into his eyes. Flinching back from the sudden assault, Bilko was unprepared for Guff's signature move.
Tniffguff kicked the master hunter in his knee. It was delivered with such force that his leg snapped backwards and he fell to the ground screaming in pain.
Grunting at the exertion of trying to breath with a severed shoulder, and filleted lung, Tniffguff the Woodburna, BigMek and Boss Mek, Stepped away from the downed man, and grabbed an ammo belt from Furp. He carefully wrapped the belt around his partially bisected torso, pulled both ends tight, and used his immense strength to crimp the ends of the metal belt together. There was still plenty of killing to be had, and he would be a bloody git before he let such a simple injury stop him. He stretched his good arm, and tested the brace, making sure the ammo belt would indeed hold him together. Almost immediately the two severed halves started to coagulate. In another few hours feeling would begin to return to his partial bisected left half, and within a week he would be good as new with an impressive new scar to scare the other lesser Orks into submission.
Feeling victorious, The Bull Ork smiled and took a deep drag on his cigar. He coughed once, and smoke erupted from the already healing seem in his chest. Now that was something to laugh about. A low rumble of sardonic chuckling erupted from his lips, and was reflected in the smoke rippling from his chest wound. Stretching his limbs out again, he rode out the pain and cracked his neck. A loud pop snapped the air. He looked down at the stump of an arm and scowled. Freshly victorious such an injury was simply frustrating. Now where was his arm?
Glancing around he looked past the wounded form of the still squirming human and saw his missing arm. Still wrapped tightly around the handle of his wrench-axe, it stood erect in the air, quivering as the muscle memory and sheer Ork resilience kept it alive. Tniffguff trod purposefully over the down man, making sure the step on his other leg as the reached for the arm. Feeling the satisfying crunch as the man's bones gave way to powder under his immense form, Guff paid him the ultimate insult, and acted as if he was nothing more than a wounded animal to be ignored. He pried his own fingers off the weapon and casually held up the severed limb. Flipping it in the air, he caught the hand with his uninjured hand, and turned to face the downed 'umie.
"Oi, yah rancid git," he said, looking down at the injured hero. He held his own severed arm for the doomed man to see. "Das why Orks are dah bes'". He hocked a loogie onto the injured father, and then beat the man to death with the severed green arm.
After several more whacks than was necessary to see the job through, He looked down at his own stump and found a new thing to be annoyed at. Aside from the fiddly red blood that ruined his otherwise proud greenskin. The stump was no longer a clean slice, and had been beaten ragged by the subsequent thrashing against the pathetic human. He murmured in frustration and tossed the limb into his sack. Now where was the 'umie sword? It was fiddly and lacked the characteristics of a good Orkish blade, but even he had to admit that the blasted thing could cut. It would make a fine bayonet on the next version of his gun.
A sudden thought crossed his mind. He was curious to see just what he had shot that had enraged the man. Marching towards the blasted out wreckage of the building, He wiped the remnants of the man in the dirt. The only thing that looked good with 'uman blood on it was a blade after all. Crossing around the corner, he was greater with a scene of carnage. He let out a soft grunt of surprise. It hadn't been just one person, no his burst of fire had seemingly caught a whole lot of the little humans. It was amazing the mess they made, and yet he felt somehow unsatisfied with it. Seeing the 'umie cry was funny, and he'd shoot the little ones again given the chance, but something about the experience wasn't fun. Had he been a deeper thinker, perhaps the beast would have reflected on the lack of challenge, and lack of accomplishment left him feeling indifferent. There was nothing much worth bragging about this lot.
Tniffguff turned to leave the carnage in search of more victims when he heard the faintest sound. A shrill squeak popped into the air, and turned his massive head back to the scene of desolation. It was odd that he heard the sound, as the barking of Ork stubguns, and roars of laughter combined with pinkskin screams of terror and left a pleasant cacophony is the background. Yet hear the sound he had, and his predatory gaze quickly noticed a little body scamper behind the wreckage of a larger 'umie. A wicked smile broke his cruel visage and the promptly set out to stomp the wretched creature. Kicking the larger body aside, a tiny 'umie with brilliant orange hair screamed and pushed herself up to the corner. Tniffguff laughed and raised his foot, preparing to smash it like a grot when a something peculiar caught his eye. The pathetic little beast raised its hands to protect itself, and Tniffguff noticed it had a golden something on its hand. He bent down and wrenched the little git into the air, holding its hand up to his eye. Her screams of terror felt on deaf eyes as the monsters lust for all things valuable was sparked into life. The golden mark seemed to be part of the girl, and it had glowing 'umie markings in the middle.
"Well lookie 'ere" He grunted staring into her terrified face. "I bet yuz a luck little git aint 'cha?" He sniffed her and scowled. She smelled sweet, like a mountain flower. That was aggravating to his Orkish sensibilities, so Tniffguff inhaled a cloud of smoke and promptly coughed it all over her face. That helped only so much. "No sense in krumpin yuz jes yet," he declared. "You kin be mah lucky git". With no further thought he tossed the young girl into his sack. Walking out of the blasted out building, he stopped by the still living head of Pulpmish, picked it up, and tossed it into the pack with the girl. He could have sworn her heard her scream, but really didn't care. Looking around for Furp, he saw the beast feeding on the body of the vanquished human and laughed. Tniffguff whistled for the stupid animal, and was pleased when it bounded up to him obediently. Lighting a second cigar, Tniffguff the Woodburna placed the smoking bundle carefully between the lips of his hauler-squigg before standing up to admire his handiwork. Furp looked confused at the treat and promptly gobbled it down.
Laughing at his pets antics, Tniffguff grabbed his axe-wrench, tossed his sack over his good shoulder, and moved on looking for more things to kill.
He was a happy Ork.