The discussion about how best to handle the bandits took place early in the morning the following day. I say discussion, but there was hardly anything left for either me or the Silver ranked adventurers gathered around me to voice our opinions on, not that I was complaining about having less work to delegate onto Jurgen.
Apparently the guard who I had spoken with the previous day, Veteran Soldier, had already come up with a plan of attack before Frontier Town Governor even thought to request for our aid. Why the vain bastard didn't just allow the 'kindred spirits' under his employment to take care of the bandits rather than trusting the safety of his territory to us 'peasants', I didn't know nor care to find out. The obvious answer was that he knew whatever he was dealing with was more than they could handle, and it was that suspicion that had made my palms tingle all throughout the previous night.
Something about the damage done to that cart felt strikingly familiar for reasons I couldn't explain. I was afraid that some hooligans from the nearest underhive luckier managed to stumble on a hidden cache of weapons from the first human colonizers of this planet, or perhaps the wreckage of a merchant vessel that just so happened to keep it's cargo perfectly preserved after its crash landing. The odds of such good fortune happening to anyone was abysmal at best, but knowing my luck, if a group of bandits did come across such weapons then there was also a chance they also found one of Vulkan's missing relics too. The odds were astronomical, but not impossible.
The way I managed to become the head of one of the governor's forces, the group given the 'honor' of acting as bait to lure these bandits into the ambush the other groups were in charge of, was just as unlikely, but proved to be all too possible. As it turned out, Frontier Town Governor hadn't been offended when I threatened him in his office and was so impressed with my commitment to my aide that he personally requested me to be the leader of this squad. I personally thought the next thing Head Butler was going to tell me was that Horus himself would be leading Witch and the other adventurers when he informed me of his master's desire to see me in action, but I was barely able to keep such thoughts to myself.
Telling the governor to frak off, while entirely appropriate given the circumstances, would have quickly demolished my flourishing reputation that had grown to ridiculous proportions in the day I spent underneath his roof. The maids and butlers who had 'accidentally' overheard me when I stood up for Jurgen in front of their balding boss' face had been spreading rumors about me ever since it had become common knowledge that I had fought against enemies wielding weapons that could mow down over half of the guards patrolling the estate without any effort. Whatever feats of heroism they imagined me performing due to my exaggerated claims of being an experienced daemon slayer, a title that I only now started to fear was a bit too incredible to attribute to myself, undoubtedly played a large part in rapidly increasing my standing as well.
Since it was too late to take back any of my outlandish claims with after my reputation had already started to grow out of control, I permitted myself the luxury of accepting the wistful stares of the young women employed by Frontier Town Governor and imparted the occasional bit of advice to a few aspiring guards who thought there was more to winning a fight than not dying. Playing the part of a gallant hero basking in the praise of those around them seemed to make the crowd of servants happy, and not being outed as a fraud was pleasing enough reason for me to continue the masquerade.
By the time Jurgen and I set out towards the location where most of the ambushes took place in order to act as bait, the six guards and additional liability accompanying me were completely enamored with the idea of watching what they believed to be a genuine hero in action. As much as I wanted to tell them that we would likely be able to take no part in the ambush once our opponents fell for the trap the others were ready to spring on them, either by virtue of being dead or taking cover from whatever tore the carriage I inspected earlier to splinters, I allowed the men and women underneath my command to talk amongst themselves so as to reinforce their morale. Few regiments I have worked with enjoyed tasks like these where the odds of survival were merely an afterthought, Death Korps of Krieg excluded, so I was happy to let those oblivious fools continue living in ignorance if it meant none of them deserted or tried to frag me before making a run for it.
What my group needed to do for the plan to be a success was simple. We simply needed to travel through the forest alongside our carriage, disguised as an exotic merchant's caravan with its ornate wooden chassis and the luxurious purple cloth encapsulating the nonexistent cargo inside, until we were attacked. At that point, we would need to wait for the other two teams, led by Veteran Soldier and Heavy Warrior, to save our arses while our bodies were still identifiable.
Ordinarily, communicating everyone's position would have been impossible without each one of our squad's possessing a psyker. Our Warp powered vox casters would also have required interpreters in order to be understood, because the vast majority of them were nuttier than the pet psyker Amberley included in her retinue. While I wouldn't have minded someone as sane and charming as Witch accompanying me on my glorified suicide mission, the governor's lack of combat psykers meant we were unfortunately unable to entertain that idea. Thankfully, Jurgen proved to be as reliable as always in our moment of need.
Before we divided into our respective squads, my aide produced over a dozen comm-beads from one of the multitude of pouches wrapped around the tangle of webbing and harnesses he carried everywhere with him. When I asked where he managed to acquire so many of the closely monitored Munitorum issued devices, he informed me that he had shouldered the burden of carrying a large amount of my backup equipment during our decades of service which he coincidentally forgot to tell me about until now.
Maintaining a straight face while thanking Jurgen for his ever reliable nature was only bearable because of the vindication I felt knowing that I hadn't lost hundreds of comm-beads and other pocket sized supplies over the course of my service to the Imperium. It was truly a miracle that the relief I felt knowing I wasn't going senile in my extreme age had been able to overcome my frustration at having felt like I was losing my mind in the first place. Of course, the immediate benefit Jurgen's unexpected revelation provided also made the news that much easier to stomach. It didn't mean I liked thinking about that debacle an hour after it happened, but at least it gave me something to think about from inside of the carriage aside from what would surely be my imminent demise.
"How the hell do I get this damn thing to work?" I heard a voice bark into my ear, breaking me out of my thoughts and allowing me to refocus on the task at hand.
"All you need to do is press the button on the earpiece like you are doing right now, Heavy Warrior." I informed the squad leader who made up in enthusiasm for what he lacked in technical aptitude.
"Are you really asking this question again?" Veteran Soldier shouted, mindful to turn his volume on his comm-bead down this time after almost deafening us when we initially tested them out. "How the hell can you not understand how to work these things after Gunner explained it to you twenty times?"
"I can explain it again, if you need me to." My aide chimed in, as I of course made sure he was among the select few to be permitted a comm-bead for this quest.
"That won't be necessary, Jurgen. I believe Heavy Warrior has finally gotten the handle of it." I assured him. "If not, I'm sure Female Knight will be more than happy to take the role of squad leader off of his hands."
"Don't worry. I have it figured out… probably." As confidence shattering as Heavy Warrior's claim was, I decided to leave the matter alone.
Out of the four adventurers together in Squad 1, he was the only one I trusted to maintain a civil relationship between them and the governor's guards by not shooting his mouth off. I didn't even consider Witch as a possible candidate, because as sensual as it would have been to have her voice pouring into my ear from kilometers away, letting someone who could hardly speak a few words at a time would have made it impossible for her group to communicate quickly with the others. It was a sad but necessary decision on my part to make Heavy Warrior the adventurer in charge of his group's comm-bead.
"Very well then. Are both of you in position?" I asked the two squad leaders while my group still had an ample amount of time to stand back should either of them run into any unforeseen problems.
"Yes. We're still waiting for your arrival at the southern entrance of the clearing." Veteran Soldier reported.
"We just prepared our ambush as well, Commissar." Heavy Warrior confirmed. "Witch has [Deflect Missile] prepared in case you were right about the weapons these bandits are using."
"Good. My group should be attracting our enemy's attention at any moment." I announced, forcing a laugh to keep up the illusion of my suicidally brave attitude and overpower the whimper that almost escaped my lips. "Maintain radio silence until you receive further orders."
"What does that mean again?" Heavy Warrior asked me, both Jurgen and I groaning at his inability to remember even the most simple of terms.
"That means Commissar wants you to shut off your damn comm-bead until he starts shouting at you! Isn't that right, sir?" Veteran Soldier answered, waiting for my confirmation like the dutiful trooper he was and nearly blowing out my eardrums in the process.
"That's right." I said, lowering the output on my comm-bead just enough to avoid any further issues from him.
Rather than deciding to just cut off my feed, I thought it was only proper to utter at least one humble prayer in case I did end up before the Golden Throne. Piety was never my strong suit, but I would at least like to think a final word to Him on Terra would have counted for something, even if I lied and cheated my way to glory until the very end.
"The Emperor Protects." I signed off, palming the aquila while listening to Jurgen repeat the same platitude I had chosen at random.
Without any more distractions to unnerve me as my squad finally entered enemy territory, I surveyed the men and women that had been assigned to me with great reluctance. Out of the seven troops I had been assigned, six of them were guards whose competence was laughable at best. Guard 1, Guard 3, and Guard 6 at least tried to look like they intended to protect the carriage their companions mostly ignored.
The numerical designation I gave those guards were not their real names. I couldn't be frakked to ask for their names, as I intended to protect my sanity against this planet's blinding lack of creativity by not threatening it in the first place. Interestingly enough, when they overheard Jurgen referring to them by those nicknames, not a single one of those unimaginative fools protested against it. If anything, it seemed to me that they also thought their own titles were not any better than the ones we gave them.
I made sure to pair up each incompetent fool under my watch with one of their more vigilant squadmates. Guards 1 and 2 were paired to our left, 3 and 4 to our right, and covering our rear were Guards 5 and 6. Jurgen was focusing solely on keeping our horses trotting at a snail's pace, relative to my aide's usually tendency to consider the maximum speed a vehicle can achieve to be the minimal speed limit of whatever motorway he decided to terrorize that day, leaving me and the annoying little brat by my side to monitor the area directly in front of us.
This additional headache that was forced upon me by Frontier Town Governor happened to be his own daughter, of all things. Noble Fencer had originally volunteered to assist the Silver ranked adventurers instead of myself, but as she told me several times both before and after from her father's mansion, she had been so enthralled by my defiance of her old man that she demanded to be attached to my squad instead. Why the fat bastard didn't invoke the authority he held over her, both as her father and the local governor, I couldn't begin to guess. She made sure to take advantage of her position beside me in the carriage by rambling on about her dreams for the future, when she wasn't singing praises in my name for standing up for the staff serving her family's estate. By the time she finally shut up I almost wanted the bandits we were looking for to attack us and put me out of my misery.
"How much longer until we can finally put down those no-good bandits, Commissar Cain?" The royal brat asked me, finally returning her attention to the mission at hand instead of blabbering absolute nonsense again.
"Not much longer now, I would imagine." I told her, hoping she would be smart enough to shut up before our enemies were close enough to hear her.
"That's great! Now I can finally complete my first quest!" Noble Fencer shouted in excitement.
Unfortunately for me, it seemed like the group under my watch lacked both intelligence and creativity in equal measure. No wonder Frontier Town Governor had given me the 'honor' of supervising these idiots.
How she managed to miss my hints for her to lower her voice, I'll never know. I would have expected her to have been as oblivious to my visible shock at her inexperience as an adventurer and competent combatant as I had been with her refusal to frak off and leave me alone, but it seemed the girl's pride was just as sensitive as an inquisitor's, and she was quick to take offense from the way I rolled my eyes at her declaration.
The scowl on her face proved that the girl was no less arrogant than the average egomaniacal madman or madwoman with the ability to declare an entire planet for immediate genocide… barring a few notable exceptions of course. The Inquisitor I had the good fortune of associating myself with was perhaps the most shining example of just how generous and forgiving a person with access to their own personal clade of assassins could be. My continued existence despite her knowing exactly the kind of person I was beneath the impression of myself I tried to impose on others proved how considerate and sane an Inquisitor could be. Not having my family jewels cut off and mounted on a plaque above their desk also spoke volumes of just how much she enjoyed my company, both the more intimate moments we spent together and those that neither of us would care to remember.
If only Noble Fencer had as much tact as some of the better Inquisitors out there. Unfortunately for me, pride seemed to be one of, if not the only vice she inherited from her father.
"How dare you think I cannot handle a simple bandit hunting quest!" Her scowl never wavered as she pouted, even with my aide sniggering right behind her.
"Oh… frak. Cain?"
"My apologies. I shouldn't have assumed that just because you were a Porcelain ranked adventurer that you wouldn't be able to fight a Ruby ranked threat on your first adventure." I told her, before offering her a devilish smile as I tried to talk some sense into her. "You did know what rating this quest had before agreeing to join it, didn't you?"
"Cain, sir?"
"O-of course I did, Commissar!" She stammered back, the fire in her eyes fading but not extinguished quite yet. It seemed that she had yet to run out of ammunition to defend herself.
"Commissar, I really think you should see this…"
"You're a Porcelain rank just like me and you were just as eager as me to take this quest once you heard what it was about." She exclaimed.
"Commissar Cain."
While it was true that she had a point about the both of us sharing the same rank and deciding to take this quest together, our similarities stopped there, as did my efforts to entertain her any further.
"For the record, Noble Fencer, if I had known what the target for this quest would have been before Frontier Town Governor requested me for it, I would have declined his offer. If it hadn't been for my decades of experience fighting foes of all races across a multitude of different battlefields, then I would have gladly returned to Frontier Town after meeting with your father." I informed her, carefully leaving out my intentions to indebt her family to myself by assisting them in their time of need.
"Ciaphas!" My malodorous aide shouted, his use of my first name instantly seizing attention.
Jurgen was always careful to remain professional at all times whenever he could help it, only referring to me casually when he believed us to be in danger. As not even an entire Necron tomb world in the first steps of reawakening its thousands of inhabitants and the presence of a Ork Warboss charging me with a flock of his Nobz in tow had made him worried for our safety, hearing him call me by name now of all times made me realize that whatever he had been trying interrupt me for earlier was of the utmost importance.
"What is it, Jurgen?" I asked him, drawing my laspistol as he brought our carriage to a stop.
"Look over there, on the tree." My aide pointed off towards one of the trees beside us, Guard 1 and Guard 2 failing to notice what he was looking for and instead preparing themselves to receive an attack.
I squinted in the direction my aide's grime covered glove was pointing in, and when I saw the symbol crudely etched into the surface my blood ran cold in an instant. Although it was barely visible from where I was sitting beside my foul smelling aide and the whining brat, I could barely make out what appeared to be an Ork Klan marker. While I had no idea what particular Klan it was meant to represent, I had no doubt my aide, given his people's long standing hatred towards all greenskins, would inform me of what it was we should be terrified of.
"I can't say I recall which Klan that marker belongs to." I mused, doing my best to keep my voice from trembling from the overwhelming fear surging through my veins. "It wouldn't happen to be Freebooterz, would it?"
My guess sounded reasonable, as the skull and axes arranged into a similar symbol to the decor most human pirates adorned their vessels with. Orks were known to steal plenty from their enemies, whether it was through their spoils of WAAAGH! or scavenged ideas mangled to the point that one could hardly recognize the Orks' original inspiration. The Low Gothic loan words they adapted for their own use, such as shoota and choopa, are just a few examples of the many concepts they have stolen from mankind and twisted for their own nefarious purposes.
"That's not the Jolly Ork, sir." Jurgen commented, dropping his reins entirely and slinging his lasrifle into his hands.
"We're in Blood Axe territory. They're a nasty bunch of greenskins that like to hide until they are close enough to ambush their targets." He continued, his next words instantly seizing me with terror. "Most of them are kommadoz with some sort of invisibility, if I remember correctly."
"Everyone, create a defensive perimeter around the carriage now!" I shouted at my squad, my sudden order striking fear in the hearts of a few guards who had not been taking their duty as seriously as should have. Despite those few fools taking a brief moment to collect themselves, they too backed against the carriage in preparation for an attack from any direction.
"Commissar Cain, what is going on?" Noble Fencer asked, the girl acting less like the adventurer she claimed to be and more like a witless damsel in distress that I would gladly leave to die if she didn't bother removing her rapier from it's sheathe before we encountered our enemy.
I didn't bother answering her, as I had a more important matter to attend to. I quickly reopened the vox channel between me and the other squad leaders who were eagerly awaiting my arrival to our own ambush site to inform them that not only were we not facing any human or abhuman opponents, but we were woefully under equipped to face the threat my squad had discovered.
"Heavy Warrior, Veteran Soldier, abandon your current positions immediately!" I shouted at them, hoping my comm-bead was still capable of overriding theirs and hoped that neither of those two turned off the devices instead of muting them.
"What's going on Commissar? Did you manage to find the bandit's camp?" Veteran Soldier asked me.
The head of the governor's guard sounded blissfully unaware of the danger I wanted to inform him of, quite unlike his counterpart leading the Silver ranked adventurers.
"Commissar, what's wrong?! Are you under attack?" Heavy Warrior yelled through his comm-bead, nearly deafening me with his outburst.
"Retreat to the governor's estate now!" I ordered them, no longer trying to conceal the terror I was feeling any longer, regardless of the consequences. "It isn't bandits attacking the caravans travelling through the forest, it's something worse!"
"What could be worse than a dozen or two bandits?" Veteran Soldier inquired, his tone of voice making it clear he was doubting my judgement.
"If the traces of our enemy that I found aren't meant to mislead us, then we could very well be dealing with a horde of greenskins numbering in the hundreds, all of them ready to tear us apart limb from limb." I said, scanning my surroundings for any trace of the vile xenos preparing to charge us en masse.
"Greenskins… you mean goblins?" Heavy Warrior mumbled in disbelief.
"No, not goblins, Orks." I corrected him.
"What's an Ork?" Veteran Soldier inquired, the term apparently being alien to him.
While hearing a so-called veteran claim that he never heard of an Ork when his planet was infested with untold masses of mutant snotlings was concerning, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as he likely had little experience regarding the monsters, xenos, and other threats the adventurers of this planet faced on a daily basis. At least, that was what I thought until Heavy Warrior proved me horribly wrong.
"I don't know, but it doesn't sound like he's talking about the tribes of demihumans sharing the same name." He said.
I made a quick mental note to inquire about this other variety of greenskin once I returned to the Adventurers Guild, if I managed to survive the quest I had foolishly volunteered to join. "Unless the greenskins you are talking about stand taller than two and a half meters at their shortest, are stronger than an ogryn, and can ignore most injuries so long as they are presented with a target to kill, then I doubt you are prepared to fight the army of Orks that have claimed this forest for themselves."
"Shit!" Both men exclaimed, perfectly summarizing the terror I felt with one simple word.
"Stay calm and immediately head back to the governor's estate so we can regroup and call in reinforcements to properly face this threat." I ordered them. "Every second counts, so don't wait for me, I'll-"
I was going to tell them that I would meet them at the governor's palace since my group was several kilometers closer to our base than they were, but as it turned out, fate had other plans in store for me.
"WAAAAAAGGGGHHH!"
The guttural roar abruptly pierced through the nervous silence that had befallen my squad, the familiar warcry that haunted several of my recurring nightmares sending a chill down my spine and sending everyone but Jurgen and I into hysterics. Considering the barbaric warrior that appeared out of nowhere directly in front of us, in full view of every ill-prepared guard that accompanied me, all of whom were unprepared to face such a monstrous opponent, it was hardly surprising that they reacted so cowardly before the last sight of countless Guardsmen far more equipped and better trained than they were. The roaring of the Ork's twin chainaxes, raised over its head in preparation to cleave each and every one of us into bloody chunks, likely contributed to most of the fear the more inexperienced members of my squad were feeling. The sight of the purple clad marauder baying for our blood was more than enough motivation for me to remain behind what little cover our transport provided me as Jurgen and I attempted to take the brute down before it could put its crude weapons to use.
Unsurprisingly, Noble Fencer had abandoned whatever pride had convinced her to accompany me when she readily cowered inside the carriage when faced with a threat far greater than even I expected to face on this adventure, doing exactly what I wished I could have done, and wrapped herself in the purple tarp covering the carriage Jurgen and I kept firing at the kommando. Neither of us waited for the other to steady their aim before firing. We both knew we were dead should the muscular xenos have come close enough to put its weapons of choice to use. The Ork managed to soak up a considerable amount of lasfire, only collapsing a few meters away from the our defensive position after receiving over a dozen shots to its torso.
It looked like the final hit that toppled our lone ambusher hit its spine, but I didn't dare to check to see if it was dead. Orks were remarkably resilient, so much so that most Guardsmen in the Astra Militarum genuinely believed that at least one Ork managed to survive their own decapitation long enough to wage WAAAGH! another day. I believed that particular rumor to be complete nonsense especially since, if most versions of the rumor I heard were to be believed, that meant there was a Commissar somewhere in the galaxy capable of shooting lasbolts out of his eyes who replaced his severed arm with a Power Klaw during a duel with an Ork Nob. As amazing as it would be to imagine such a legendary colleague of mine living up to the fanciful reputation I have built for myself, I knew that such rumors was yet another piece of the Commissariat's outrageous propaganda.
The soldiers accompanying me must have been blindingly optimistic after the Ork collapsed or as foolish as those Guardsmen that believed the mythical Hero of Hades Hive wasn't a Space Marine. I was so distracted by the possibility of the Ork getting back up or its reinforcements ambushing us from our flanks that I never noticed those fools abandon the minute safety afforded to them by our carriage, but there was no way I could have possibly missed the tortured screams that rang out from the fallen Ork's direction.
The kommado had apparently been playing dead, a surprisingly effective strategy due to the average Ork's superhuman levels of endurance and general disdain for such cowardly tactics, and took Guard 3 by surprise. She was barely able to let out a yelp of surprise before the monstrous greenskin latched onto her with its bare hands, rewarding her lethal levels of curiosity by effortlessly pulling her apart like a wishbone. Her remaining comrades were quick to flee in terror as her entrails fell to the ground along with the rest of her corpse, the half-dead Ork discarding her corpse in an attempt to get its hands on one last victim before dying.
Had the lower half of its body not been crippled by the damage Jurgen and I inflicted on it, then the Ork surely would have claimed yet another unfortunate victim by the time I lined up a shot on its thick skull. It was only through sheer luck that it was unable to extend its reach to the remaining guards that had wisely backed away from it in panic, similarly to how the single lasbolt I fired splattered the contents of the injured Ork's brains across the forest floor.
Neither the guards nor Noble Fencer, who had finally emerged from the safety blanket she wrapped herself in earlier, were able to celebrate the kommando's death. The warcry the foul xenos uttered had certainly been loud enough to be overheard by anything close to our location, friendly or otherwise. It was with the thunderous cry of dozens of bloodthirsty, musclebound giants that the once silent forest surrounding us on all sides roared into a viscous frenzy.
From the small portion of the forest I could see from my comfortable and increasingly dangerous position within the purple canopied carriage that I saw no less than ten kommandos pop into existence, the purple striped abominations somehow escaping my vision until they were close enough for me to smell their rancid breath that was only marginally better than Jurgen's halitosis. Unlike the overeager ambusher that revealed himself before reinforcements arrived, these Orks were all wielding shootas that, while still horribly inaccurate, were able to compensate for their wielder's inability to aim with the impenetrable wave of bolter fire they poured in my direction.
Guard 1 and Guard 6 were both eviscerated by the hail of gunfire that pelted their torsos, those two experiencing an arguably worse fate than Guard 2 who's headless torso managed to run a few more feet further than he had with his worthless helmet on before the rest of his body was turned into a pile of gore by the numerous bolter rounds it received. Guard 3 and Guard 5 made the mistake of trying to stand their ground against the tide of greenskins, the two of them failing to parry the massive choppas that cleaved through both their torsos in a single swing.
I was powerless to watch as my squad was eradicated by the oncoming WAAAGH! and in an effort to prevent my hat and greatcoat from being added to the collection of trophies my intended killers possessed, I threw myself flat against the floor of the carriage and hoped for The Emperor to provide me with a miracle in order to survive my hopeless situation. Noble Fencer had fainted from fear moments before I made the most of the minimal coverage the carriage's wooden frame provided me, despite knowing just how worthless it had been for the occupants of the ruined carriage I had inspected the previous day. Jurgen joined me not long after I started feverishly muttering The Emperor's Prayer underneath my breath, likely assuming I had some sort of plan to help us survive the impossible odds we were pitted against.
I couldn't bear to look at the calm face of my trusty aide, so I closed my eyes and waited for the pain I was certain I would experience before standing in front of the Golden Throne a few decades later than I should have. I was so worried about what the Orks would do to us that I barely noticed the now bolter ridden tarp covering our carriage collapse on top of us, offering us minimal protection against the oncoming horde of greenskins.
With nothing else to do but wait and hope for our deaths to be as painless as possible, I palmed the aquila for what I thought would be the final time and closed my eyes in preparation for a chainaxe to come crashing into my back. My every muscle was tense with anticipation of the messy and inglorious end a coward like me deserved. It was only then, when I was absolutely confident in our imminent demise, that the miracle I wished for had appeared. Or more accurately, it disappeared, taking the savage cries of the Orks that had been attacking us along with it.
Artor's Corner:
'Aight, 'ere we go! Da Orky boyz iz finally 'ere likes I said theyz wuld be and dis time, it'z time fo' ya gitz to start listenin' to a real git! Da 'umie I krumped to get 'ere told ya dere wuz greenskins, 'n now you gots 'em! Dunno 'bout da 'umie wif da fancy 'at's chances o' krumpin' 'ma boyz, but I kno' dere's gunna be lots o' brutal an' kunnin' stuf to cum.
Prepare fo' WAAAGH! lads! Don't mater 'ho it'z 'gainst o' how many 'ooman's ya krump, s'long as ya 'ave fun doin' it!
WAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
Vumanchu: This is just bloody beautiful man. From start to right now, I am just waiting in anticipation for what comes next.
Alwayz zoggin' great ta 'ere sum 'umies likin' sum gud ol' fashun krumpin'. I 'ope ta not dizapoint yu in da futur!
nlaj1: Teleport more wh 40k units
Teleport more wh 40k stuff later
Da tellyportal haz been… uhh… tellyportin'!
To da two gitz tryin' to krump each otha in da comments like a bunch o' humies:
Wot are you twos tryin' to do 'ere? Ya're arguin like a bunch o' bleedin' grots! Zog off wif dat stuf 'fore I needs to do sumfin' 'bout it! 'Aight?
'Aight ya zoggin' gitz! Dat's enuf readin' like sum weak 'umies. Get out dere an start sum krumpin! I's best be seein' you boyz latur!