As I scour the universe for good 40k fan fiction it usually is a waste of time. Then it magically finds its way to my screen and I rejoice. Here is one such sample of fan fiction done right and happens to be funny.
As a warning this post is long. The best part is you can read it in chunks so do not be afraid to skim to find stuff that stands out.
A Chaos Space Marine’s Diary
The following text is made up of notes from the diary of a Chaos Space Marine in the Black Legion.
Day 1, week 1
– Arrived at new camp on planet Ythcolgar.
– Started to feel pain in left arm. No idea why.
– Hung piece of paper on brother Ardius’ backpack reading “Purge me!” and had a good (and sinister) laugh with the rest of the lads.
– Brother Behemon painted the coolest ever winged skull on his shoulderplate today, and was brutally butchered by the guv’ (Estragor, Exalted Champion of Chaos) for being a Night Lords sympathizer.
Day 2, week 1
– Pain in arm growing. Went to Chaos sorcerer, who told me three words: “Extremis Unconfortablis Mutatis.” I’m visiting brother Arzhar tomorrow, to ask about mutation symptoms. (Arzhar has already got an ostrich-leg and a bat’s nose.)
– The Guv’ didn’t like the “purge me” joke, and as punishment I spent three hours writing “You’re dead!” back to front on the front of my squad’s Rhino, in preparation for next week’s big cityfight.
– Attended brother Behemon’s funeral today. The way sergeant Sargoth placed his blooded skull atop that burning mound of bones really stirred some emotions, but we all forgot our sadness and frustration by getting leglessly drunk on boozed-up blood afterwards.
Day 3, week 1
– Awoke with a terrible hangover from last night, and hung on my bed I found a picture of me making out with a daemonette. This, of course, led to quite a few “HOWs”, “WHYs” and “WHENs”
– Arzhar (who by the way has been gifted an additional ostrich leg by his patron) told me to expect a hideous mutation of my left arm. Although I have yet to read about the pros and cons of mutation, I’m hoping for either a whip-like tentacle or a massive crab’s claw!
– Found a scorched skull on the gound and hung it in my belt, but was then given a thorough lesson from sarge about martial honour, and how one shall only display battle-trophies that one-self has won. Frankly I couldn’t care less what he and the Blood God thinks.
Day 4, week 1
– Today we sacked an undefended city on the planet Urnium. Found a convenience store selling cereal-boxes called “Corn-chaos.” (a fitting name, I might add). The guv, however, took the cereal’s title as an insult mocking his patron, Khorne, and burned the shop personally. Fortunately I managed to grab the latest issue of “Universe at War” before the magasine-rack was consumed by the flames.
– Got into a fight with brother Octavius over which of the two destroyed legions landed on Istvaan V first. He claimed it was the (fragment missing), but surely it was the colossal landing crafts of the (fragment missing) legion which first touched the ground?
– Played Death-poker with the lads before going to bed. The only casualty was brother Magnon, who bought it in the fourth round. Won myself a neat little master-crafted beauty of a bolt-pistol, and a bottle of some blue liquid. (Note: The bottle was labeled: “Do not add anything”)
Day 5, week 1
– Today, the guv beheaded brother Raphaelus for having tattooed a certain rune on his forehead. But Raphaelus died with a smile on the face of his severed head, having had great fun tricking the entire company into believing that he had been given the Mark of Khorne.
– Pain in arm growing, the sorcerer told me to expect a mutation any day. I still find it hard to believe that I have particularly pleased one of the powers, except for perhaps amusing Slaanny by symbolically eating that Eldar’s spirit-stone in a battle a few weeks ago. (That stone was hard as rock, by the way, and it really messed up my teeth. And I was hoping for fangs and all!
– Attended “Pint-night” with the rest of the squad. In lack of boozed-up blood, drank the blue liquid I won at the poker-game. The liquid turned out stronger and fiercer than an irritated Bloodthirster, and sent me running to the latrine, screaming like a Horror. Before I reaching it, I had already vomited half my interiours all over the newly-polished Land Raider. (Note: Formed the vomit into looking like an evil face, and the tank commander was impressed when he saw it the next day.)
Day 6, week 1
– Last night I had a long vision of Tzeentch, telling me how mad he was at me. I spent all night running from his minions in the psychic realm. How I earned the wrath of Tzeentchie-boy (that old trickster is beyond me.
– Was told at the mess that the blue liquid I had drunk last night was infact an antidote to Nurgle’s Rot, and was lifted up by a group of Plague-marines and carried across the courtyard, being praised and honoured by the foul men. Never before have I drunk and thereby destroyed the nemesis of an entire squad of marines. (Note: My new nikcname is “Doom-drinker,” apparently.)
Day 7, week 1
– Awoke with left arm fully mutated! A beautiful tentacle-thingy, slimy and gross. Had great fun coiling it around brother Xarnon’s throat and almost strangling him. Went to Arzhar’s tent with a bunch of posessees, and had a “Who’s got the most hideous body-part”-competition. (Brother Igmarius won, sporting a toe with a fly’s head and little legs of it’s own.)
– Got tickets for tomorrow’s Emperor’s Children gig on the planet Harthras IV. (Note: Bus leaves at 4.00)
– Went to Chaos sorcerer in hope of finding out which god has gifted me with the tentacle. After two hours of the sorceror looking at the arm and taking down notes, came the following answer: “It is probably either Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle or Slaanesh.” (No big suprises there)
Day 1, week 2
– Went all day fooling around camp. For fun, pretended to be a nutter and was grouped with the posessed squad. Learned all there is to know about being possessed, and wrote down some of their most memorable lines: “The Emperor wins in the end”, “Does my host have bad breath?,” and “Man, the looks of this host are spoiling my chances of getting laid.”
– In the evening, went to Emperor’s Children concert on Harthras IV. Went backstage and got Eidolon’s autograph, and got my picture taken next to him, holding a blastmaster. After the concert, almost my entire squad talked about joining the Slaaneshi cult. (Note: Group pressure is a bad thing)
– Looking forward to tomorrow’s cityfight, spent the late hours painting terror-markings and contrasting colours on my armour, along with the lads. Only one of them had actually pledged his soul to Slaanny after the concert, and we helped him paint ridiculous colour-patterns and naughty artwork on his armour.
Day 2, week 2
– Had a good old cityfight in Yarnus, the capitol of the planet Kravus. Tried out the bolt-pistol I had won at the poker-game, but killed no-one with it (except brother Elmius by accident. He was probably gonna die anyway, right?). Ended with the bolt-pistol blowing up in my hand and rendering me unable to use a weapon. (Ever tried holding a boltgun with a tentacle?) Despite pain and being “psysically challenged” I managed to impress sarge by strangling two hapless citizens with my tentacle in less than 10 seconds.
– On the way back to base, I got friendly with Khorne-berzerker Arturion, and after he initially tried to chop my head off, we had an interesting coversation about social issues and skull-taking.
Day 3, week 2
– Awoke finding Arturion licking the blood off my wounded hand (which I had forgotten to do something about). Went with Arturion to the tech-marine, who replaced my wounded hand with a robot-one. The sad thing is that if it had been treated right away, I would only have had to replace 96, 7 percent of my hand, and not the whole thing. Arturion put his name up in the list for some more psycho-surgery. I said I like natural rage better, but he wouldn’t listen, and kept claiming it would make give him better self-confidence and make him more attractive.
– For an evening out, I went to the killing-grounds with the rest of my squad, to fight a pack of brutish beastmen. Did many things that Arturion had learnt me, but discovered that I still have to work on my “Double-Decap.” (Note: Must remember to send “I’m sorry”-letter to brother Lurg.)
Day 4, week 2
– Was told that brother Lurg from my squad died last night from wounds sustained at the killing-grounds yesterday. Unfortuately no one noticed how he was wounded. Although Lurg probably did, it was hard for him to explain without his jaw. (Note: Must remember to burn the “I’m Sorry!”-letter)
– Played Death-poker in the evening. Won nothing, and lost half my miniature-collection, including the special character “Rambo.” (We play with the miniatures in a game called “Warhammer 2k”)
– Day 5, week 2
– Sarge found the “I’m Sorry”-letter before I had time to burn it. Suprisingly, he didn’t mind the fact that it was I the one who had inflicted the mortal wounds on Lurg (by accident, of course…) Instead, he said that Khorne apparently favours those who kill their friends and allies, and fetched Lurg’s severed jaw for me to wear as a trophy.
– Was part of a group of marines ordered to test the new Dreadclaws. The pod I was in failed to work, and plumetted to the ground at lightning-speed. The pod crashed in a desert area of the planet, the impact killing everyone in the pod except me. Hours later I was found unconcious by the search-team, with a third-degree burn on my tentacle and without a lower jaw.
Day 6, week 2
– Left the field-hospital/gene-mixing-lab early in the morning, with a bandaged tentacle and a fully functional jaw. Apparently, they hadn’t found my original one, so they took the one hanging on a chain around my neck and put that one on instead.
– Went to Arzhar’s tent to ask how to treat injured mutated limbs. Arzhar, the poor #######, has by now been given a turtle’s shell and pig’s head (although he’s still got the bat’s nose), and was not in the mood to talk about mutations. Instead we discussed career-possibilities in the legion, and advaning to higher ranks. I’ve found out that possible career choices are: To join one of the cults, become a biker or havoc specialist, survive long enough to become a veteran, get possessed, almost die and become a Dreadnought, or become a driver. Tough choice, eh?
– In the evening, I returned to the killing-grounds with my squad, this time pitched against a group of imperial captives. We barely made it out alive, although this time I managed to perfectly execute the Double-Decap.
Day 7, week 2
– The talk with Arzhar yesterday really got me thinking. Walked around the camp, asking the different marines about what career THEY had chosen. So far, the cults seem unlikely (although the plague-marines will of course welcome “Doom Drinker” into their group anytime), and becoming possessed seems to leave few chances of advancing further in the ranks. Besides, having a face growing out of my chest and babbling philosofical nonsence all day isn’t my biggest ambition in life.
– Later, the camp was visited today by a small group of Word Bearers lead by a chaplain, coming to tell us all about why we should join their legion instead. Their endless preaching was cut short when the guv’ intervened, butchering them to a man. The survivor was held down and his armour was taken off. Then the guv’ tatooed the eye of Horus on his forehead, and “Black Legion rocks!” all over his chest. He was then carried into a space-ship, and finally jettisoned into space in a sarcophagus marked “To Lorgar!”
Day 1, week 3
– Had nothing to do half the day, so went with brother Ixius to the paint-shed where we stylised our armour some more. Ixius painted a large I (for Ixius) on his chestplate, although I’m sure I’ve seen that particluar letter dislplayed in similar manners before…
– Started preparing this week’s lighting-raid on an imperial hive-city called Necromunda. Apparently, the guv and all his officers and allies had been planning this raid for months, and have done all the nescessary calculations. With the forces we’re gonna use, the hive city will be reduced to a scorched wasteland littered with the dead in no time!
– In the evening, the guv violently slaughtered one of his own marines. The reason was that the marine had been given a mutated head by his god. What had his head mutated into? Two eagle-heads…
Day 2, week 3
– Got up early to play Blood-hockey with the lads, against a team composed of bloodthirsty beastmen and some imperial prisoners. With the game being my first one for ages, I only managed two kill-goals and one goal-kill. In the end, we won the game 18-3.
– Later, my squad and I was ordered into the desert-region of the planet to crush a beastman rebellion against us. When arriving, we saw that without any material to build a proper base with, they had constructed a gigantic sandcastle in the middle of the sea of sand-dunes. I was the big hero of the campaign, firing the descisive (and only) shot which took down their stronghold, burying them underneath. Was rewarded a medallion by the guv, which was ripped from my armour again when the lads told him what kind of resistance we had met.
Day 3, week 3
– Brother Taxius and brother Cormius came up with a great tactical idea today: Havoc bikers. Taxius and Cormius decided on sharing their stroke of strategic genius withe the guv himself, and went at once to his throne-room. Strangely enough, only one of them received a public execution for their stupidity (Cormius). Infact the guv assembled a unit of Havoc bikers, and made Taxius the unit sergeant. Apparently, the guv thought leading such a pointless unit on the battlefield would be prove to be punishment enough.
– Around noon, brother Praetorax threw a spray of “Mr. Clean” into the plague-marines’ tent as a joke. Punishment was dished out by the guv, who ensured that Praetorax will have his hands busy for quite a while; Praetorax was ordered to polish the armour of all the company’s plague-marines, and only when every single piece of armour has passed the white-glove test, will he be allowed to stop. Not suprisingly, a dozen of our company’s marines joined the Nurgle-cult today, for obvious reasons.
– Used most of the day packing my bags and preparing for the hive-city assault.
Day 4, week 3
(Nothing was written this day)
Day 5, week 3
– Mission to destroy hive-city Necromunda yesterday was cancelled, as our base fell under attack by a force of Iron Warriors before sunrise. Me and the rest of my squad were taken as captives by them, and we were taken deep into the warp aboard a small space hulk the Iron Warriors had mobilized. Their commanding warsmith said to us: “Half of your men escaped, half of your men were killed, and the last half were captured.” (So much for the Iron Warriors’ cold and efficient LOGIC) But he also told us how amazed he was by our defence skill, and that he was impressed by our tactical abilities. Apparently, the Havoc bikers had held back the Iron Warriors for several hours, allowing many marines to escape the doomed base.
– Today, we landed on a desert-planet (Tellarm or Tallern or something) for unknown reasons, and from my iron cage (which I was held in) I overheard two Iron Warriors playing in the sand:
“My sandcastle is bigger than yours!”
“No it isn’t!”
“Yes it is, and it has lascannons here and here, and these are missile lauchers!”
“Well mine’s got that aswell, and a moat full of skulls and barbed wire!”
“Your lascannons aren’t placed at the right spots! What if the enemy attacked here? Or here? Or put heavy fire on this wall? You’d have to concentrate the fire on that area over by the dead lizard, while your terminators got into position over by that pile of bones. And barbed wire placed over there isn’t gonna slow the enemy down! You’ve gotta put another turret on this spot here, next to the cactus, and have warriors standing ready over here in case of a breakthrough. And what if that scorpion over there assaulted this wall? I’d suggest a squad of…”
No doubt the Iron Warriors are tactical geniuses. I never learned what their business on the desert-planet was, and we left only hours later.
Day 6, week 3
– Early in the morning, we were brutally dragged from our warm and comfy chains and shackles and pitched against a squad of Obliterators in a game of inter-planetary Blood-hockey. We were solemnly beaten 23-2, with two casualties, one IGB (In-Game-Betrayal), and four of our men are probably still drifting into space.
– Discovered on my way back to the cell that the guv is also aboard the hulk. Not a big suprise really, as it’s not like him to run away or die in the heat of battle.
– Played Death-poker with a makeshift deck of cards (don’t ask), and I stole the show, winning three pieces of dry bread and five glasses of stagnant water.
Day 7, week 3
– Enjoyed a peaceful day in the cell. Nothing much happened, apart from brother Garvius being put in a straightjacket, brother Xathras climbing the walls, and the ever-complaining, ever-wining, ALWAYS annoying brother Urshar being knocked out, permanently. (NOT by me, I swear…)
– Later, a brilliantly co-operated jailbreak was carried out. Lead by the guv, all the Black Legion captives aboard the space hulk rampaged through the drifting metal-behemoth, killing everything we met, and probably everything we didn’t meet, considering we ended it all by blowing the hulk into at least two pieces. (Doesn’t have the same effect as “a million pieces,” does it?)
Day 1, week 4
– Back on our good old planet! We all celebrated our happy return with a visit to the killing grounds. Even the guv joined in, and we all had a merry time killing each other, since there was no-one else to fight. The guv said afterwards that events like these are nescessary to determine who are worthy of serving him. Those who died were obviously not worthy. Later, we partied in the mess, the sorcerer conjuring drinks from the depths of the warp, and we all got totally hammered. (Note: It’s fun dancing with Horrors when you’re drunk)
Day 2, week 4
– Received tragic news that brother Praetorax had comitted suicide with a bomb, finally having had enough of polishing plague-infested armour. There was a memorial service at noon, with the (very few) remains of Praetorax being ritually fed to a pack of wild mutant-geese. Everyone attended except the plague-marines, who had lost both their servant and their sergeant when the bomb went off. Ironically, the bomb-explosion had burnt every drop of slime off their armour…
– Brother Arzhar, the Toy of the Gods (which he has been titled by his superior) has received yet another mutation. His latest hideous feature is a frog’s chin. And while we was captured aboard the space hulk, he had been gifted a fish-tail. Lay awake all night because of the noises coming from his tent. (Note: “Riddip” and “croak” are the two most annoying sounds in the galaxy.)
Day 3, week 4
– Felt like doing nothing, so rented three videos with some of my squad-mates: “Edward Lightning-claws”, “Children of the Khorne”, and a documentary film starring among others the guv himself: “Pitch Black Crusade.”
– After having watched films for hours and eventually getting fed up, we went to the mess. On the tent, there hung a large poster with a picture of his majesty Abaddon the Despoiler, pointing at us with his Talon of Horus, and the text read “Abaddon wants you!” Inspired by the movie we had just watched (and just for kicks, of course), my entire squad (including me) put their names up for the next Black Crusade. We decided that burning planets, killing imperials and enslaving billions looks great, and we made the guv really proud of us too.
– Later, we found this really neat piece of armour in the junkyard, and brother Halus put it on at once. Of course, no-one told him that what he had just put on was a suit of armour from the Thousand Sons legion. And we quickly discovered that it was still occupied by it’s original wearer, when the armour ran off with Halus screaming to get out.
Day 4, week 4
– Today, sarge told us that there were already thousands of regulars who had signed up for his majesty Abaddon’s next Black Crusade. In order to participate in the crusade, our squad had to choose a more specialized style of warfare, since there was still a shortage of specialist troops in the Black Crusade army. We had a poll, and it was soon decided that our path was to become bikers. Without further ado, we all started practising to become bikers, something that was quite hard considering we had not been issued any bikes yet.
– Saw the new poster at the mess, telling that there is a contest to see who can recruit the most marines into joining the Black Crusade. (First prize is an antique shoulderplate worn by the great commander Orghoth, that’s for recruiting 20 marines.) Went to Arzhar’s tent and tried persuading him into joining the crusade, and he finally agreed to, after I had outdone myself in making up lame reasons for him to join.
Day 5, week 4
– Got up before sunrise and ran around camp recruiting marines to join the crusade. I realised that if I wake them from their sleep early in the morning, most of the marines will say (or agree to do) anything as long as you go away and let them sleep.
– Went to the head-office and handed in the paper with all the signatures. It actually turned out that I didn’t win the recruitment-contest, as the Berzerker champion had walked around the camp last night and forced a heap of marines to join. If the choice is between going on a Black Crusade or getting you head cut off, what would you have answered? Anyway, I won second prize, a really cool replica of Khârn the Betrayer’s helmet. After scaring a few of my squad-mates out of bed by wearing the helmet and shouting “Blood for the Blood God!”, I painted it black and adorned it with the Eye of Horus, the most infamous of all the Chaos symbols. (Plus it’s my favorite one.)
– Went to Arzhar’s tent, and helped him paint the Eye on his turtle-shell. Actually, I didn’t, and wrote instead: “One-man zoo!” A mean thing to do? Hardly, since mutants always say they want to be treated like everone else.
Day 6, week 4
– Today, some crucial messages were given to us by sarge. The Black Crusade is commencing in one week, but we won’t be joining it until the main fleet comes to our system, which should happen a few days later. Also, he told us that our squad had been accepted to become bikers, and that our bikes would be issued to us when we join the fleet. Finally, he told us that the guv has been accepted into Abaddon’s inner circle of lords for the crusade. Apparently, this is to be celebrated next week at the newly built pub/pleasure-house “Sex, drugs and worse!”, erected by the Slaaneshi cult.
– Went around camp all day trying to get hold of some drinks for next week’s party. I came over several choices: the regular boozed-up blood, a bottle of “Brother Bravius’ Belly-burner,” and some green slime which sticked to the wall when I threw it. In the end, I went with the Belly-burner for variety, since the slime tasted bad, and I’m tired of boozed-up blood. (Besides, the last time I drunk it, I vomited up big lumps of coagulated blood the next day, which pleased only the berzerker who I allowed to have them.)
– Played Death-poker with the squad, and lost my fake Khorne-necklace (Oh no:). I also lost a gold tooth that I never knew I had. Apparently, brother Renghar, who won it, had been a friend of brother Lurg, the former owner of my jaw.
Day 7, week 4
– Walked around camp with brother Fermicus and sold off all the gear that we won’t be needing when we become bikers. Traded our beloved Heavy bolter for a skull-shaped helmet, an antique deck of cards and a small Chaos familiar that was found in the mess sink this morning.
– After a big, bloody fight that probably pleased Khorne, brother Halus got to keep the skull-helmet. Then we played a quick game of Death-poker (without the full rules, since we wanted to be at full strength for the crusade), and since no-one wanted the familiar, I guess I’ stuck with it.
– In the evening, sarge assembled us in the main tent where we were to discuss biker-tactics. After hours of debating, arguing, countless feet being stamped and fists being hammered onto the table in rage, we finally agreed on a strategy: the good old “Charge!!!”
Day 1, week 5
– Had nothing to do, so I went with brother Furiax to the killing-grounds, to test our mettle against the good old beastman horde. Dispite our fearless fighting, me even managing a Double-Decap without trying to, we were outnumbered and quickly surrounded. But fortunately, some last-minute help in the form of the berzerker-squad arrived, and they quickly turned the place into a fountain of blood.
– Used the rest of the afternoon trying to get all the beastman-blood off my armour. Later, I went to the mess to try out today’s special, “Rotting corpse.” (Plague marines had mess-duty today) It tasted kinda out of date.
Day 2, week 5
– Borrowed the latest copy of “Universe at War” from brother Vulkus, and read interesting article on combat-bikes. Got some really cool ideas for my future “metal steed” (that’s what us pros call our bikes), and I’m definately gonna try out the flame-pattern.
– Later today, the list of Crusade-squads was hung up. It turned out that two thirds of our company, including the guv himself, have enlisted into his majesty Abaddon’s crusade. Noted down names of all the squads joining: Squad Estragor (Raptors, lead by the guv himself), Squad Dharkos (Possessed), Squad Zerus (Havocs), Squad Sargoth (That’s us! Bikers, of course), Squad Traghius (Plague marines) and Squad Mhorkorus (Berzerkers). Also, we’re committing a Rhino APC and the Land Raider “Eternal Hatred” to serve in Abaddon’s forces.
– Went to Arzhar’s tent in the evening. He’s not been put in any of the squads, it turned out, but is being taken along with some other (weirdo) marines to be used as auxilliaries. Had a long chat with him, mostly about violence and the meaning of death. Noticed before I left that it looks like a pair of rabbit-ears are appearing on his head.
Day 3, week 5
– The day started with us talking about the World Eaters at the mess. When we came to the fact that they have no recorded home-world, brother Hades found a good reason why: “They ate it.” Stupidity-execution carried out by the guv, who hates stupid people (and doesn’t like bad jokes either.) Only minutes later, brother Unghor foolishly asked out loud: “If Slaanesh is the god of sex, why is it Tzeentch who’s got a thousand sons?” It resulted in the guv having killed two of his own men for being stupid before breakfast was over.
– Checked the mail, and found a flyer with “Join the BDA” displayed on the front. After reading through it, I found out that it wasn’t anyhting for me. (A Chaos marine joining “Blood-Drinkers Anonymous”? I don’t think so.)
– In the evening, the (slightly delayed) party to celebrate our return was held. (We were captured aboard a space hulk, remember?) We all had a jolly good time, but soon a pack of daemons invited themselves to the party. Before night was over, a drunken Plaguebearer had vomited on Brother Fratius (killing him), a swarm of Nurglings got the Land Raider going and drove away with it, and three of our men were possessed by daemons. It all came to a finale when a enormous Great Unclean One materialized in the pub, squashing several marines and cultists to death upon it’s arrival. (Note: Nurgloid daemons are very annoying. Remeber NOT to get possessed by one!)
Day 4, week 5
– Awoke face down in a puddle of slime behind the bar. Got up just in time to get out of the pub before it was demolished. Apparently, it was fully trashed inside, and so full of slime from the daemons that dropped in last night, that the guv saw no reason in keeping it standing. Instead, he is planning to erect a Chaos monolith in it’s place.
– Our squad was called to search for the Land Raider which was hijacked by the Nurglings last night. We eventually found it half-buried by sand in the desert-region of the planet. It was littered with dead Nurglings, dryed up and shrivelled, who obviously couldn’t cope with the heat. Brother Furiax insisted riding back to base on top of the tank, but it almost cost him his life; When we returned his lungs were half-filled with sand, and he was twice as heavy to carry because of the amount of sand inside his armour.
– Used the rest of the afternoon sharing thoughts about war with the familiar.
Day 5, week 5
– Finally found my diary! Who on earth put it under my bed? Thanks to whoever it was, I didn’t get to write anything in it yesterday.
– Had a talk with Arzhar (who by the way has got a pair of rabbit-ears now, just as I predicted.) He says he’s going to be grouped with the possessed once we join the Black Crusade, even though there isn’t a daemon in him (yet). Had a glass of vintage boozed-up blood (slightly coagulated, but that’s how it’s supposed to be, apparently) and talked about how the Crusade’s gonna be like. Promised we’d meet again before we leave.
Day 7, week 5
– Spent the day making huge posters and banner reading: “Warmaster, command us!” and “Welcome, Your Highness!” They were all spread out on the camp-grounds facing upwards. Brother Grax dug a deep hole in the ground and covered it with a huge sheet, on which he had written “Land here!” It was just intended as a joke, of course. However, the guv quickly found out (the hard way), and Grax was shackled, gagged and blindfolded and thrown in the pit immeditaly. However, he was not buried alive. Instead, the guv simply covered the pit again with the same sheet. (Talk about digging your own grave…)
– We all wrote our wills in the mess. Decided that if I die, sarge can keep all my stuff. (Note: Remeber to make sure brother Tryvus doesn’t survive the crusade, since he’s put me up for his antique pre-heresy bolter if he dies.)
– Couldn’t sleep, lay awake thinking about the crusade.
What will Abaddon be like?
How long before I get my bike?
How many planets will we burn?
Will I be dead before we return?
I hope you enjoyed!
Questions for Comment:
- Know of some good 40k Humor?
- What makes for good fan fiction?
- Anyone know the author of this diary?