If you were a grunt – forum – dakkadakka electricity sources


We continued to grow more and more debased trying every pleasurable act and drug we could access. I continued to fall deeper into opulence and decadence, becoming obsessed with pleasure, pain, and a desire to be absolutely perfect in all ways. Our cult began to rise in popularity, drawing nobles and wealthy individuals bored of the rigid confines of imperial service and desiring to experience the euphoria of experiences we offered. As nobles joined the cult, it increased our resources to try even more things and fall further into decadence.

We began to construct a large monument deep in the under hive hidden from sight of the planetary government and watchful eyes of the Planetary Guard. A great statute of a man with a single breast and an alluring smile. We didn’t know the man, nor the symbols we carved painstakingly on the side of the mighty statues base from anywhere. They just seemed to come to us as though we had always known them.

After the construction is completed the statue seems to glow with a strange aura. Within hours, the statue seems to pulse. I felt my very soul being torn from me and consumed by the alluring statue, As I collapsed to the ground and my body began to die, I could see the souls of the entire underhive being consumed by the statue as it glowed ever brighter. In my last moments I could see beautiful, alluring, and yet monsterous feminine figures pouring forth from a glowing portal that had opened on the statute.

I am brother Simmons of the church of geneology. Having successfully pushed a political and religious agenda focusing largely on the utmost importance of modesty and the right of the citizenry to bear arms (Both fire and regular, optimally as many as possible) our great and benevolent secret overlords signaled to me and my companions to begin the attack.

Amazingly, the pitiful puppets of the false emperor stood their ground in front of me and I watched as we only managed to kill three guardsmen. Then upon charging in my horror multiplied as only a single additional guardsman fell – what superhuman monsters were these? I looked to our more blessed brothers for support, but our acolyte comrades had gotten lost in the secret tunnel network and were only now clambering over the far edge of the large, rectangular plateau the city had been built on.

At a word from a nearby officer – "fix bayonets!" the guardsmen we were fighting were suddenly seized with a fervor rivaling the mightiest warriors of khorne. Attacking with impossible fury, they struck back twice as hard as our supposedly physically superior cultist warriors. A bayonet in my chest, I looked up at my killer in disbelief.

I’ll be high on Adrenalight having a good time with several other Eldar and our cousin(The Dark One…) having a party with some drinks on shores of the planet of Solaris IV. When the topic of footlockers comes up. Our cousin gloats of his horde and it was well known… So in spite of my cousin I set to make a joke of him with my own kin. I tell him a tale of treasure in my footlocker and he grew angry and proclaimed me a liar. I told him if he really wanted to see it we needed to get drunk first so I can remember where it is. He queried why? I told him the way is lead by a drunken trail when I placed it. He would follow the trail while I remember once my memory had been stirred. He agreed, so high and a hair shot of being incapacitated with the fear of waking next to Slaanesh we began: Stagger, stagger, crawl, roll, roll, crawl, stagger, roll, crawl, crawl, crawl, crawl. He looked back at us quickly on all fours in his pointy armor. His eyes sharply narrowed in question his jet pack weighing down above him. We all held our laughter best we could. I waved him forward to go; Crawl, crawl, stagger, roll, crawl, stagger…

Yes! yes… That rock that rock indeed I exclaimed drinking my wine. He dusted the sand off and pointed down toward the large stone. I told him to dig and he began, we drank and watched him. The more he dug the more suspicious he became and yet the irony was I looked upon my physical forms own shallow grave. The ruse remained tell another reaver started comparing him to a pet Mon-keigh. If only he was smaller he could fit on our shoulder. The laughter was great and the ire of our cousin was unfathomable as his eyes where bright as two dipping suns along the dusky seaside horizon after hearing the comparison. Here little Mon-keigh come here Mon-keigh~. He crawled out of that shallow ditch, flares ignited from his jet pack flying toward us. I… of course was the target. He grabbed my mesh armor neckline and started to shake me. I was starting to feel a bit sick from drunkeness tell suddenly the shaking stopped and the sharp pinch came along my chest that not even the Adrenalight or wine could numb off. I looked down at his sword in me, You stabbed me…. I exclaimed quietly, I looked at him with meek shock before all was dark.