Calling all artists, writers and designers of 40k inspired works

[Inquisitor Kallus]

Awesome work there Jaraknarn. The story itself was a joy to read . Looking forward to reading more.

[Jaraknarn]

Thanks, any pointers? Particularly plot wise, do you like where its heading so far? Anything u'd like to see more/less of?

[Inquisitor Kallus]

Id always envisioned Malphract as a fairly robust/healthy looking Inquisitor, and when I read through it the first time I was taken aback that it wasn't exacly how i thought he would be. I then thought that would make for an awesome other story, the quest for youth(appearance and strength wise). There are a few bits I would tweak a bit, mostly to do with annonymity and saving things for later, though I pretty much said otherwise in my previous posts. Names are the primary thing I was thinking of here. The actual plot is very cool and paticularly cinematic. I could quite clearly see it playing out in my head and love the idea of this as a snap shot of his current position, I imagine him on the run as such or maybe only running from a few select individuals.

[Jaraknarn]

If thats how u envisioned him thats cool, just as soon as u describe him as shadowy and that he was a psyker i thought Sith.
I saw a him with a body that LOOKED wracked and ruined through channeling the warp, but in fact was still deceptively strong. Playing into the shadowy part by only revealing his strength when absolutely neccessary. Enemies always under estimate him, until they lose, swiftly, haha.

Ill let u decide which u prefer, but im cool with either.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

ts actually growing on me quite a bit although i previously saw him slighly middle aged in appearance. On a scale quality probably more powerful than Eisenhorn but not to a huge degree. I love the image of him sitting down just waiting, confident in his servants abilities to stop the sniper. Im going to make a copy and do a few tweaks and send it back to you to see what you thinkif thats ok?

[Jaraknarn]

Of course, its basically a commision so its yours to do with what u will

[kurisawa]

At the moment the stories I am looking for are if you like foundations, keystones to the building of the sector to which the campaigns will be set, used to spark off ideas and such about worlds, characters and the like. They will also be something in their own right as not everyone plays games. I know this is slightly in opposition to the term campaign setting, but this is usually an initial draw for people and I want gaming, and indeed the hobby, to play a big part.

Yes, I understand. Designers call it "colour text" - you see lots of it all over the armybooks and codexes. The question stands, though: Do you have a word target in mind?

If you want a simple piece of colour text like in a codex, I'll aim for up to 1000.

A very short story can be done in around 3000 - but won't have much in the way of character development or plot (it'll be more just an anecdote).

For complete short stories, with a nice conclusion and some proper characters, I must admit I struggle to keep them to 7000 (the usual target for the BL competitions). 10k ok? It's not that I ramble (I hope! - you can see some WHFB short stories on the batrep page of the website in my sig)

K.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

I've read a piece of your work already, nice site too. I have no paticular word target in mind. A short story sounds good. Did you take a look at Jaraknarns work? Something longer and broader would be nice so I can see something more in-depth and from a different view point as such?

[CasperTheGhost]

Ha ha, ok thats cool. Though what i'm asking is what parts of the background interest you personally? In other words, if you could choose to write anything like a short story or about a characters exploits, what kind of thing would you choose to write about? I have a host of ideas and characters myself but would really like to see something that almost shows where your head is at. Does that make sense? So feel free to run wild, though Imperial stuff would probably be a good start.

Opps meant to address this earlier.

To be honest, seeing as it seems to be in it's early stages, I was thinking something along the lines of building up and exploring the background of a world through the eyes of it's people; Arbites, Criminals, Inquistor retiune investigating a potential Cult (to link into the idea of invasion and therefore the 40k games), PDF forces if we're looking at specfic forces actually having landed on the world; that sort of stuff.

Of course it depends on what you had in mind; one world or a whole sector (you're leaning towards the latter if I'm not mistaken, no?). If it's a sector then I could happily just 'take residence' on one world and build up the backstory for forces fighting on it; as in why they're fighting on it. If it's the former then just point me anywhere; I'm happy to write whatever, although I'd most likely to best with just the 'human' viewpoints.

Also I thought I would link to an example of my work, while I'm here. It's the only real example I have that I have up at the moment, so take a ganders if you wish - http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?t=243862

[Inquisitor Kallus]

Very nice work there Casper, captures it through the eyes of 'mere mortals' very well. I really like it and it gives the image of Space Marines being elevated and different from normal humanity which is an awesome thing about the background to them. Unfortunately it is not seen so much in games, where marines are considered 'the norm', with all other races being compared to them as a standard as opposed to, say, the Imperial Guard/humans who shoudl really be the standard.

The human viewpoint element helps us relate to the events happening around, which is also one of the reasons why Forgeworld write their books from an Imperial standpoint too. I also like the obscure elements to 40k too, with some things being left unsaid or not paticularly fleshed out, which feels somehow more epic to a degree. A story or two from a human viewpoint on a paticular planet would be great, maybe a hive as this would be diferent from the other writers so far and would give a slightly broader view of area types/planets for me to use. If you feel like fleshing out a world as such let me know as I am in the process of working out all manner of things including 'World Templates' and 'Area Terrain types' (the latter of which will be used in games and will comprise of not only generic, but specific locations and types).

The works that I have seen so far have been extremely rewarding to read and Jaraknarn has done an amazing piece of work which even changed my perception of a character i've had in my head and played around with since the Inquisitor rulebook came out.

The ideas i am leaning to more are less fights with alien races and 'uber threats' like Chaos Space marines appearing on the doorstep at the moment, but more criminals, small cults and more standard 'Imperial characters' like arbites, planetary governors, hive gangs etc.

That being said I am also planning for 'alien held' worlds such as Fordian which is disputed between Tau and Orks.

[CasperTheGhost]

Well that piece of work is actually based in the Great Crusade period, so it does revolve around Space Marines being the norm. I know what you mean though and revolving around the normal arbites etc, works fine with me.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

In terms of scale it then makes the appearance of the Space Marines all the more awe inspiring, which I feel is as it should be from people who have never seen them before. I'm glad you understand where i'm coming from.

[RandomSelect]

I would like to do some pictures, i've always enjoyed a spot of drawing.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

Awesome, thanks RandomSelect. At this point I would also like to give a big shoutout to everyone who has contributed, thanks for all your hard work.

[kurisawa]

I've read a piece of your work already, nice site too. I have no paticular word target in mind. A short story sounds good. Did you take a look at Jaraknarns work? Something longer and broader would be nice so I can see something more in-depth and from a different view point as such?

Hey Kallus, thanks for the props.

As you may have seen, BL is opening a warp-portal, err I mean a submissions window, so I'll be working on that for the time being. I hope this does not put you out too much - I'm not sure how quickly you wanted stuff.

As a consolation, if I'm rejected (again ) I can send it to your site instead!

K.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

Thats cool Kurisawa, I wish you good luck with your submission. Go for it Randomselect, if its something you enjoythen it makes it all the more fun! Does anyone else have any Necron style work? Or indeed Daemons/Chaos?

On another note I am also looking for anyone who would like to be affiliated with the site in a slightly more 'professional' capacity, such as artists, writers, moderators, rules/codex writers and the like. feel free to post here or PM me. Thanks again guys.

[Wyrmwood]

I have an old work in progress story, based around the Flesh Tearers that I can post if you're interested? As well as a World Eater tale and one or two other bits.

[Inquisitor Kallus]

That would be great Wyrmwood, thanks!

[Wyrmwood]

Okay, the Flesh Tearer story is about... Two years, maybe three years old. It is W.I.P (I know, I left it and never returned) so, here goes:

Prologue - Cathedral.

An effigy to an unfailing will; the ruins of the monolithic cathedral sat on the horizon, lording over the open landscape of Perdita II's once glorious countryside. All of its eternal splendour lost to the living, stolen by the empirical ravages of modern warfare. The encroaching grasslands were vaporised; less than ash. Innocence and beauty stolen and offered up as a testament of nuclear fire. In ages long gone when the Cathedral was erected to the gods of Perdita, it's purpose to provide an answer lost to humanity in the maelstrom of Old Night, it was a magnificent structure; no, it was more than that - it was a sanctuary. Myriad, intoxicating blends of reds, blues and greens marked out the stained glass windows that depicting images of saint and saviour, the triumph of good over evil and the eternal splendour of the Lord ascendant. Rows of ordered oak benches, splintering from overuse and the musty smell of rose incense; light pink smoke that would drift around the ankles, obscuring the ghosts of priest and peon masked in the humid air.

Now, bullet holes dotted the great granite walls, splintered fractions of refracted light lanced through the remnants of the great windows. A slab of granite had smashed into the pulpit, skeletal fingers clutching out from beneath, forever begging for salvation for a being that had never cared, nor ever would. Ash and dust coated the splintered oaken plinths, softly blanketing the ruined skeletal statues, fallen protectors and sentinels all.

Framed by the encompassing warm glow of six o'clock sunrise, it was indeed a picture of lost innocence and isolation. It stood against the dawn; defiant, resplendent - an effigy, in opposition to the wasteland of nuclear holocaust that knelt before it, as though it were addressing the people of the world still. What remained of a forest, now skeletal and lifeless, edged down the hillside and spread out into the grey valley. On the hillside, carved by man and machine, there was a labyrinth of trenches dressed in jewellery of finest barbed wire, dead husks of tanks and biped war machines were coated in blood and ash, kicked up by the morning wind and frozen in the darkness of night. No birdsong echoed, no rumbling engines, no distant chatter from the town parish, only the angry rumble of distant roars, violent and clattering - signalling the approach, only the high pitched howling wind, assuring the corpses littered across the hill that their end was nigh, that they'll be kept safe in the clammy embrace of death.

As the new dawn lorded over the valley, frozen in time, the Angels of Death soared overhead, on chariots of fire. Screaming Stormbirds loaded with black and red clad giants, bathed in the eerie red light penetrating the viewing slits of the mechanical birds. Beneath their trailing heat waves, stalked a snaking armoured column of Chimera troop transports and Leman Russ battle tanks. Beneath their iron treads, muffled crunching bones were drowned out by the engines of the armoured vehicles. On the hillside, sprinted bipedal Sentinels that advanced past dead trees, beneath the Cathedral. The cacophonous roar signalled one thing.

It signalled Perdita's end.
________________________________________

the rancorous bark of bolter fire lit up the murky blackness of Perdita's night, kicking up clouds of ash and bone as rounds strayed and impacting cover or missed entirely. Shouts, screams and cries formed a malicious symphonic accompaniment to the terrible light show of muzzle flares. Above the skirmish amid the ruins of downtown Ostrubect, Valkyires and Vendettas soared in packs, their dark forms framed by the rising red moon of harvest, the setting sun and the glaring, crimson celestial giant of Perdita III that bathed the ruined city in a glowing bloodbath, stretching dark shadows and hiding cowering Guardsmen and Separatist alike; casting hell upon the fighting men and women of the Imperial Auretian 51st regiment and the crimson clad giants of the Flesh Tearers of the Adeptus Astartes.

Littered skeletons of archways, closed streets and fallen buildings littered the blood soaked soil of the former park. Guardsmen, their heads down, blind firing over rubble - some cowering, or muttering for the horrific, indescribable sound of the battle cries of the Flesh Tearers; they advanced through the murk, only muzzle flares giving clues to their position before they slammed hard into cover; forever advancing, toward the Separatist squad held up in a ramshackle encampment of makeshift bunkers and hastily dug trench lines.
"Push forward, as darkness is our ally, switch to chainaxes!” bellowed Sergeant Arthis, "Frag out!"
In response, a Flesh Tearer dashed past him, and slid into the cover provided by a fallen archway. Seconds later, a deep thud lit up the encampment as the belt of frag grenades detonated, along with the wet threshing of fallen innards and cries of hate and loss.
"Into the trench, my brothers!” this time it was a roar.
The Flesh Tearers ducked into the trench, chainaxes roaring; the carnage illuminated by distant cracks of artillery fire and once again obscured by shadows. In the brutal melee, bolt pistols were barking, chainaxes were roaring and the Flesh Tearers were laughing.

To some, this scene would have been baleful butchery, but to the Flesh Tearers it was art, it was beauty, it was magnificent.

...And it was a theatre for their fury.
++ Chapter One - Descend, the Shades of War ++
Two days ago, aboard Imperial Crusade Command Vessel "Cacophony"

The dull glint of security camera lenses fractured the almost perfect pitch black of the cavernous ceiling, hefty baroque archways punctuated the darkness that seemed to ooze, like water dripping from stalactites, and encompass the corridor to the Lord Solar's Stratagem.

Along the walls of the corridor, lurked statues of rusted, copper armoured sentinels that stared, lifelessly out from their shadowed alcoves, ever vigilant. However, their presence in the darkness, gave the distinct impression of peering eyes, the uncomfortable suggestion that something was watching.

Seth, Commander of the Flesh Tearers Chapter of Astartes, stormed down the passageway flanked by ten figures armoured in bronze - The Honour Guard; their footsteps in time with their Commander's but oddly detached and sinister.
At the end of the passage, a mighty bulkhead obstructed the path, guarded by two of the Lord Solar's own Honour Custodians. If the Flesh Tearers were detached and dour, then these men were terrified.
Seth and his procession stood before the two men, who visibly shook at the sight of the Space Marines, clearly having never seen them before, one man even let out a whimper that caught in the cold air, visible as a ghostly grey shape.
After a few painful seconds of growing impatience, Seth broke the silence,
"Lord Solar Matakison is expecting us. Are you going to open the door, like good little serfs or, alternatively, are you going to keep us waiting even longer?"
Seth's eyes pierced into the visor of the man on the left.
"F-forgive m-" stammered the man on the left, clearly not concerned about his companion. Seth took two steps forward and bent down, looking directly into the glassy visor covering the man's eyes, and cupped the man's chin in a baroquely armoured fist, soft as a lover's touch. His snarl vanished and his eyes softened. Seth spoke softly, almost a whisper:
"Dear child, we are your friends and protectors, do not fear us for we are your angels, your defenders, a bulwark against the nightmares of war. Now, will you please open this door so that we may talk to the Lord Solar, you don't want to make us late do you?" He had given the man, not the boy, a choice.
"Y-yes, m-my lord. I'm sorry to k-" sputtered the boy, clearly still worried by the giants before him.
"Don't worry about it, let's just get this door open shall we?" smiled Seth.
He stood up straight and his Honour Guard took two steps to fall in behind him. The boy fumbled with the key pad, unlocking the door after a few uncomfortable moments, silent but for the click of pushed keys. The hiss of pistons signalled the door to be lifted as unseen Servitors heaved the slab of metal up into the rafters.

[Wyrmwood]

Another random tidbit:

++'Opening the Adamantine Gate'++

Shoulder to shoulder; rank and file they stood, shivering. Mighty banners wrought from silk flew proudly against the battering, howling winds. Ghostly grey puffs of warm breath dissipated before the frozen, roaring rain spilling from the fiery heavens.

Upon the horizon they stood, stark shadows against a blazing backdrop; Giants bearing down before them, eyes glowing as gems plucked from the caverns of hell. Vicious stabbing light that scorched the ashen dunes was followed by concussive blasts that echoed through the night sky. A rumbling light show briefly illuminating the scorched earth between Giant and man.

Burning, searing orbs darted through the maelstrom; the eyes of the devils that haunted the darkest corners of the dwellings and fortresses of man, they disappeared behind the Giants on the crest of the storm. Then, as if erupting from within the earth, they would rise up and into the shrouded void, where the gaze of man cannot pierce.

In the legends of man and in the corrupted mythologies of this world, this was the time of 'Ragnarok'; the apocalypse that consumed all with lustful jaws of burning ice that stole the fire from the heart. The Dragon would break free from his prison beyond the veil, shrouded by storm clouds, amidst the burning prism of fire. Then, after devouring the very light from the sky, would feed upon the very earth itself. With its legions unbound, the power of the eleven would crumble, sucked into an inescapable voracious vortex. Their very screams all but forgotten, swallowed and frozen by the Dragon, to echo throughout the void for a brief second; a howling prologue of the ravenous hunger of the Beast.

Such a violent cataclysm would be begun when the giants, blackened beasts of hell, would destroy the barriers between worlds, escaping their diabolical torment and thus would burst forth into the cities and lairs of man with gleaming jaws and snarling oblivion. The Giants would leave rivers of the blood and festering carrion in their wake; for those that fought, would be slain. What could not be corrupted would be burned. What could not be taken would be smashed. Those of no use to their primagen would be left, defiled iconoclasts of freedom.