Ah yeah! They're dead fo' sho'! Nobody is getting out alive! A good old party of sigmar skirmish match! I would have brought a Carnosaur rather than a skink, but you know different play styles!
I can almost taste the endless aos jokes and references. Looking forwards to writing the next part - it might even be from Bralterakus' perspective...
I can see it now. The corpse of Bralterakus said nothing and did nothing, as corpses are wont to do./Chapter
Nathan is the Stig??????? Just wanting to reassure all the kiddies now: Bralterakus, Aletea and the other one are going to be ok and everyone will be friends again. I read somewhere about them having an adventure in Lustria in an alternate time line.
Yeah, don't worry kiddies, they're all having fun in a bouncy castle somewhere far far away with balloons and infinite cake,waiting for Emily and Zlaqua to join them. What? Is he? I only meant to remind everyone about my vow of destruction of n810. Is he the Stig? I'm beginning to spot joke potential here.
Bob, as much as I would love to run python sketches all day long with you, we must remember that- oh christ! They're here! Send help! They got me oh god oh god oh sdlghs dfphspdfoh ghgfhfgh https://xkcd.com/16/
What better way to hide Stig-hood than denying the existence of any Stig? This is undeniable proof - @n810 must be the Stig. Anyway, on to the story. Marv could probably get a bit of humour into the Tale, and I think that, as dark as it is getting, we need a bit of light-hearted amusement. So Marv it is. Marv lay by the side of the road, wrapped in bandages covered with blood. It was dark, and Marv felt cold. He groaned pathetically, and took care to move to face any carriages or coaches that moved past him. Eventually, one kind driver stopped to see what he could do to help. He dropped off the roof of the carriage, and knelt next to Marv, who by now was shivering. "Hey there fella, what happened to you?" Marv moved his bandaged leg and let out a long squeal of agony. Five masked men leapt out of the bushes and pointed their assortment of improvised weaponry at the driver. He looked confused for a second and then turned to Marv with a scowl, but Marv had rolled out the way and scrambled to his feet, brandishing a self-made rifle with bayonet at the driver. The driver cursed and dropped to his knees. The group of masked men clustered around the door, before throwing it open. The terrified tourists were ushered out, and the group got in and shut the door. Marv was still stood outside. "Guys! Let me in, yeah?" A gun got poked out the window at him - "No! You aren't one of our gang. Get lost!" - and Marv found himself retreating instinctively. What would Mama E. think of you now? You let yourself get betrayed. The least you can do is betray them back. The muppets that had betrayed him hadn't actually organised a driver. What amateurs. Darting under the gun, he leapt and pulled himself fluidly onto the roof of the coach. Stepping carefully onto the drivers podium, he grasped the whips and smacked the horses hard and unexpectedly. They burst forward into a gallop, and he released the reins and rolled off the side, trusting the horses to keep to the road. He grabbed an edge of the roof, and turned his fall into a swinging two-footed kick to the window. The gang surged back from the splinters of glass that flew at their eyes, and the sudden shift in weight caused the carriage to tilt onto two wheels. Then the panicked horses dragged the carriage off the edge of the path, on to ridged, hardened earth. The sudden juddering nearly pulled Marvs arms out of their sockets, and in the precarious position of half-inside the window, half-outside,and he knew that if he fell it would hurt. The group of men reorganised quickly, and drew their guns. All of the guns went off at once as the carriage smacked into the side of a barn, and two of the gangs men went down. The barn collapsed behind them, and they were hurtling towards a large bricked building in the middle of a small town. Marv scrabbled at the roof and started slowly pulling himself up. The gang inside the carriage saw his legs vanish though the window. The leader, a boy of just 17, fired his gun into the roof, and the others caught on quickly. Sadly, the homemade weapons were not good quality (unlike the roof), and began to disintergrate. More damage was caused by guns exploding to the gang members, than to Marv during the whole chase. On the roof, Marv located the watchtower - a slowly crumbling stone fortress, designed at strategic points around the city to repel invaders. It was in poor condition, but as Marv steered the runaway carriage towards it, guards began to tumble out of the doors and spread out. Recalling his long years of illusions, he passed a hand over the ropes tying the horses to the carriage and they broke like wet pasta. The horses careered over to the left and right, and Marv ran his other hand over his bedraggled cape and boots. This was harder, he had to make the magical energy click with the clothes, ...and he did it. With a single leap, he cleared the guard tower and held his cape open as he glided round in a large circle. From above, he watched as the carriage tore through half the huge stone walls, and embedded itself in the side of the tower. Guards approached it cautiously, and when the gang burst out, the unlucky two who leapt at the guards were sprayed with a strange orange liquid. They convulsed, screaming and thrashing. After that, the other gang members allowed the Guards to handcuff them, and take them towards the penitentiary. A well pulled off betrayal, thought Marv, not even a trace of the awful luck that seems to follow me around.Then, an observant guard spotted the flying silhouette and aimed his crossbow - he narrowly missed Marvs head. "No! I'm human! Don't shoot! Please!" Guard Ben turned to Captain Saxon. "From here, it almost sounds human doesn't it?" "Stop thinking and start shooting," Captain Saxon growled in a deep voice. "The R+D boys have been dying to get hold of one of those speedy Pterosaurs or whatever." Guard Ben reloaded quickly, aimed carefully and let the bolt fly. Marv banked so that the bolt would miss his body - a fluke gust of wind blew him back to where he had started. It was almost dawn, and Marv could have sworn that the constellations shifted to show a huge grinning frog head. The bolt whizzed past his chest - a brief moment of relief, and then a ripping noise. He dropped a couple of meters, and through a freak barrel roll, regained control. Then another bolt hit his foot. He screamed. And then with a noise like screeching metal, the magic gave out completely and he dropped like a stone.
Good old Marv. Competence through incompetence or vice versa. I alway did like a good run away horse carriage action scene.
But why else would you ignore my desperate cry for a photoshopped Stigmarine? You must be hiding something.... Wait. It might not be the Stig part of Stigmarine that he is hiding something about.
Marine? I always thought that these guys are proud been what they are and show off their pride by shouting things like "Eskimo p*** is icy cold.." or "One! One! One, two! One!" ... At least nowadays... Don't know what these 40k guys sing... Or if they are better at maths... Or if they still know eskimos...
@spawning of Bob this looks great! Like van Gogh, Picasso and Warhol eaten by one single lizard and put on canvas!
are you sure that it should be a grinning frog constellation, i think the stars aligning like a troll face would be better -EDIT- As no less than three leviathans lazily closed in on Boatymcboatface the stars alignment changed to that of a troll face