Warhammer: After 18 years, finally an end

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Arquinsiel: Jun 1, 2006; "There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look to themselves first."

God Bless Margaret Thatcher
God Bless England
RIP My Iron Lady

The angry meter really was inspired.

# ? Sep 26, 2015 16:41

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# ? May 10, 2024 22:00

mllaneza: Apr 28, 2007; Veteran, Bermuda Triangle Expeditionary Force, 1993-1952

Join in the fun of mocking people who say there aren't any health packs. There's lots of them ! They run right up to you !

# ? Sep 27, 2015 04:04

Arc Hammer: Mar 4, 2013; Got any deathsticks?

I would still say gently caress Ork Rokkit Launchas and their ability to take half your health with one salvo. And a block button would be nice to interrupt an Ork swing.

# ? Sep 27, 2015 04:39

Deptfordx: Dec 23, 2013

Pffft. Look at this noob with his 'Parry' button. The Emperor gave you your sacred power armour for a reason son. Have you tried swinging your chainsword more furiously at the Orks instead?

I think maybe you'd be happier sitting in a Predator operating the Las Cannons. The machine spirit will even aim for you, there's just a big red button marked 'Fire' for you to press. You'll like that.

Deptfordx fucked around with this message at 14:08 on Sep 27, 2015

# ? Sep 27, 2015 11:27

hopterque: Mar 9, 2007; sup

SRM posted:

I absolutely adore that game. The balance between shooting and melee combat is perfect, and recovering health by murdering Orks is the most 40k health mechanic ever. Relic really knows their stuff in regards to 40k, and I really hope they get the license to play with again.

They did, Sega is Relic's new publisher and they are doing deals with Games Workshop anyway (Warhammer: total war), and Relic is working on Dawn of War 3.

Weirdly, the Space Marine IP wound up with Bioware for a while but I think Sega got it back.

# ? Sep 27, 2015 12:14

Fried Chicken: Jan 9, 2011; Don't fry me, I'm no chicken!

hopterque posted:

Relic is working on Dawn of War 3.

Hallelujah, Emperor be praised

# ? Sep 28, 2015 16:03

Cooked Auto: Aug 4, 2007; If you will not serve in combat, you will serve on the firing line!

That's mostly just implied that they are based on them securing the website URLs for the game. There's really been zero news about the game beyond that.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 12:52

Sandweed: Sep 7, 2006; All your friends are me.

Their PR is focusing on the Total War Warhammer game right now I guess.

How did they gently caress it up and not call it Total Warhammer.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 13:18

GannerOne: Feb 25, 2014

Oh what I wouldn't give for a Total War-game in the 40K universe. Maybe following a well known ground-campaign or something.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 14:15

Diran: Jan 28, 2014

GannerOne posted:

Oh what I wouldn't give for a Total War-game in the 40K universe. Maybe following a well known ground-campaign or something.

When I first heart about the total war game I thought it was 40k and got really excited. I'd love to see one of those.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 17:12

Deptfordx: Dec 23, 2013

GannerOne posted:

Oh what I wouldn't give for a Total War-game in the 40K universe. Maybe following a well known ground-campaign or something.

Not Total War. You need to give the boys at Eugen a call and use their Wargame Engine to create a Epic/Apocalpyse scale game.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 18:39

Cooked Auto: Aug 4, 2007; If you will not serve in combat, you will serve on the firing line!

Sandweed posted:

Their PR is focusing on the Total War Warhammer game right now I guess.

How did they gently caress it up and not call it Total Warhammer.

But Warhammer Total War is Creative Assembly not Relic. Granted that's also under Sega.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 20:17

GannerOne: Feb 25, 2014

Deptfordx posted:

Not Total War. You need to give the boys at Eugen a call and use their Wargame Engine to create a Epic/Apocalpyse scale game.

I'd even be glad if Paradox would have made a game. Hardcore strategy management of the empire from Terra.

# ? Sep 29, 2015 20:49

Cythereal: Nov 8, 2009; I love the potoo,
and the potoo loves you.

GannerOne posted:

I'd even be glad if Paradox would have made a game. Hardcore strategy management of the empire from Terra.

Are you so certain that whenever you boot up a game of CK2 you're not on some feudal world terraformed during the Dark Age of Technology to look like Terra in its prime?

# ? Sep 29, 2015 23:17

OXBALLS DOT COM: Sep 11, 2005; by FactsAreUseless; Young Orc

Deptfordx posted:

Not Total War. You need to give the boys at Eugen a call and use their Wargame Engine to create a Epic/Apocalpyse scale game.

Their publisher Focus does 40k properties anyway...

# ? Sep 30, 2015 02:25

Kylaer: Aug 4, 2007; I'm SURE walking around in a respirator at all times in an (even more) OPEN BIDENing society is definitely not a recipe for disaster and anyone that's not cool with getting harassed by CHUDs are cave dwellers. I've got good brain!

Here is another Doc Eldar story. It's the first of that series of three that I mentioned a while back; it's slice-of-life, not a lot of action, but I had some ideas and wanted to explore them. Honestly, a lot of the time I can't get my ideas to come out in written form exactly the way I want them to be, but I guess that's just a matter of practice.

quote:

Let me tell you a little story about the most terrifying boss I've ever had. It's a story that makes me wonder, as I tell it, what exactly that boss thought of me, in the pathways of his alien brain. I can't say I ever understood him, no more than I understood what must have been going on in the Monsignor Jeremias' own mind to make him think hiring a xeno as chief medical officer was a good idea. Pronouncing the alien's name proved to be just as hard for me as understanding his thoughts, and so I called him Doc Eldar.

"Prepare to deploy the stent," the xeno ordered. "On my word, pressurize to twelve for four seconds, then release." He pivoted his head, ear still pressed against our patient's chest, to stare at the man's grey-tinged face. "You may experience pain as part of the blood flow to your heart is temporarily halted. It will not cause long-term harm."

Our patient was actually an officer of significant rank, the section chief of the ship's fore quarter. A high enough rank that, when he had been found to have coronary artery blockages that required intervention, he had felt entitled to demand the procedure be done by the hospital's most qualified practitioner. He had not, of course, been expecting Doc Eldar to be the one waiting for him in the angiography suite.

The xeno made some minute adjustments to the dials that controlled the directional flexing of the angio catheter's tip. He wasn't using the multi-axis bio-auspex that could have shown the position of the catheter within the patient's heart on any of a dozen screens. He was doing it by ear, in the literal sense of the term.

"Eighty percent stenosis of the left main. I suspect the circumflex will also require stenting," he had said, after his first few seconds of listening at the start of the procedure. A slight shift of his head. "Right coronary has clinically insignificant blockages. No benefit to stenting."

The officer on the table, panic in his eyes, had said "Aren't you going to use the auspex?"

"That would be inappropriate. It would expose you to unnecessary radiation and could increase your risk of developing cancer by as much as a half-percent in the next ten years. Put your arm on this rest."

In terms of corporeal pain, the coronary stenting was considerably less traumatic than the great majority of the xeno's procedures. Other than a needle puncture into the radial artery and placement of an access sheath, everything else was just the manipulation of the catheter into place. But as I watched sweat bead on the man's terrified face, I was reminded that not every torment need be physical.

Not that I needed reminding. I had an experience of mortal terror fresh in my own mind.

Our vessel was in orbit over Rihak, and I'd been looking forward to our arrival for several months - I was due for a ten-day of shore leave, and as luck would have it, the Monsignor's itinerary called for twelve days anchorage. Rihak was a semi-regular stopping point, and I'd spent two days planetside a couple of years before - long enough to know it was a place worth spending leave time. It was world both young and old, colonized by humanity at least ten thousand years ago, but it had been isolated by warp storms and reverted to a barely-industrialized feral state, only being reclaimed little more than half a millenium before.

From an observation blister, the planet's day side was a mottle of green, brown, and blue, overlaid by brilliant swirls of clouds. It was beautiful, the oceans a brighter blue than those of my homeworld, and in the sunlight it looked like it could have still been feral, such was the vibrance of its ecosystem. But the night side showed that this was no forgotten outpost of humanity, with diffuse glowing webs of transit highways linking the far brighter lights of towns and cities. And as I descended the gravity well in a passenger shuttle, I kept my eyes on the porthole, watching the spaceport and its surrounding city grow nearer.

I've always loved seeing new and different places. It was why I became a spacefarer in the first place. Some people leave their homeworlds fleeing something - the law, the expectations of their families, memories - but I hadn't been running when I took service on the Monsignor's vessel. I had been searching, searching for the new and the amazing. I graduated a reputable medicae academy as a fully certified surgical assistant, and could have gotten a contract with one of the local hospitals, as my parents had, and my older sister, and - a few years after my departure - my younger brother. I could have worked steady, predictable shifts, earned decent wages, and never seen the dawn of a different-hued sun.

Until I met Doc Eldar, I thought that decision didn't even bear a second thought.

The things I saw working alongside the xeno made me doubt the wisdom of my choice, at times. As I sat in the shuttle, I couldn't shake off a memory from the night before, the last case I'd taken part in before the start of my leave. A simple case, suturing a couple of superficial lacerations a young man had acquired in a bar fight. He was quite intoxicated when the medics brought him in, and had no intention of holding still to let the xeno repair his wounds. We had strapped him to a table, as he screamed and bellowed, and the xeno was halfway through closing a cut across his left forearm when he managed to twist his right arm free of the restraints and take a swing.

I caught his arm before it could get near Doc Eldar; he was clumsy and had no leverage, so I was able to get him back into the restraint. The look in his eyes as I had done so - angry, but more than that, hurt, betrayed - and his whimper of "Why are you helping him? Help me!" Those stuck with me. Because the drunken man was right. I was helping an alien, helping him as he caused pain to my fellow humans. Pain that was, despite all the xeno's agile justifications, unnecessary. Doc Eldar, I had no doubt, enjoyed hurting people. He healed them, but never without causing fear and pain. And for me to help him was wrong. And so I went planetside, feeling unclean in my soul.

Rihak's capital, lit by the mid-afternoon sun, made an impressive sight, and provided a degree of distraction from my inner thoughts. It wasn't a hive; it sprawled in some directions twenty or thirty kilometers away from the epicenter that was the spaceport, but it was still a city a single layer deep, each building resting on the ground. It was a growing place, though, and I could see the seeds of what might become a hive generations in the future: a ziggurat-style arcology, its base a square half a kilometer on each face, and rising at least four hundred meters into the sky, and a few kilometers away, the foundations of another, seething with construction activity. The roads near the arcology swept upwards, joining the building at its first step as well as entering it near the base. After visiting Mazaeus, I'd read a book that chronicled the construction of its hives, complete with picts taken over a span of two hundred years. Over time, the net of roads would merge into a contiguous surface, above the rooftops of the ground-level buildings; support pylons themselves the size of skyscrapers would be sunk deep into the bedrock, and another layer of the city would be constructed, suspended above the first. The oldest hive on Mazaeus was, in places, sixteen layers deep - a city more than two kilometers thick, home to more people than my brain could really grasp.

After touching down, I left the spaceport and took passage on a train, headed for the city's outskirts. I wanted to see something other than edifices constructed by human hands, and I had a plan to spend at least a few days far away from the urban centers. But today I wouldn't travel too far; the ship's clock wasn't synchronized to this city, so while I'd boarded the shuttle just after midnight, locally it wasn't even dinnertime yet. A good meal, lodging, and a long night's sleep should set me on course to make the most of the rest of my leave.

I took a room at a guest-house near the train station, left my case of spare clothing, and set out for a walk. The late-afternoon sun was hot, here near the equator, but it felt good to be exposed to something real, compared to the luminators and heat management systems of the ship. And there was greenery, here where the city was less dense: trees planted along the streets' edges, rockcrete planters full of decorative foliage in front of buildings. The leaves here were darker than those at home, a deep grey-green, but the blossoms of the flowering plants covered the full spectrum of colors. The pedestrian walkways here were occupied but not crowded; I expected more people would be on the move as the evening set in.

My thought was to walk until I found a likely-looking restaurant, dine, and then return to my room for the night. I know a lot of fellow crew whose chief enjoyment of shore leave consisted of getting grossly intoxicated among people who weren't their coworkers and mess-mates, relishing the opportunity to act without concern that those actions would enter the chain of rumors and mouth-to-ear news. I wasn't looking for that kind of getaway myself, but some food would be welcome.

What I found, before a suitable restaurant caught my eye, was a cathedral. Not huge or remarkably grand; in a generous estimate, the paired spires on the face of the building might have reached thirty meters, and the walls were poured rockcrete, not carved stone. But it was clean and well-maintained, and it had an air of life to it; it wasn't a monument or a tourist attraction, but the working spiritual heart of the community surrounding it.

And the doors stood open.

I knew, then, what I needed to do. What would free my soul from the guilt that clung to it. I would seek absolution, confess my sins, and turn away from the path I was walking. I was not indentured to the ship; I was free to leave if I chose, I had been saving a portion of my wages since my early days and could live off that while I secured local employment. I hadn't intended to end my journey on Rihak - in the back of my mind I'd always kept a suspicion that after I'd had my fill of traveling, I'd return to my homeworld and settle there for the rest of my days - but it would do. It would be better than spending another day helping the xeno at his work.

Inside the cathedral, although no service was currently being held, the nave was not empty. Several locals occupied places on the benches, some reading quietly from prayer scripts, others sitting silent. A priest, wearing an embroidered garment somewhere between a robe and a coat over austere shirt and trousers, approached me as I entered.

"Be welcome," he said in greeting. "I don't believe I recognize you. Are you new to the congregation?" Low Gothic, as it is spoken on Rihak, carries a heavy accent to my ears, the letter "g" sounding almost as if the speaker is swallowing. I'm sure I sounded every bit as strange to him, in turn.

"Yes, father. I'm from offworld, part of the crew of the trading vessel Ebenezer Majd." Although his eyes were friendly, I couldn't meet them as I continued. "I have done wrong. I wish to confess my sins."

I'm sure I wasn't the first stranger to walk in seeking confession. He nodded towards the confession nooks along one wall. "Of course. I will listen, my child." I couldn't help but notice that he pronounced the "ch" syllable almost the way I pronounced "t."

It was such a relief to close the door of the confession nook behind me. It had been a long time since I confessed; shipboard, absolution had seemed out of my reach, as there was nothing I could do about my ongoing work with the alien. You can't purge yourself of sin if you plan on continuing in its commission. But here, with my new plan in my mind, I knew it could work.

I expect you've picked up on the fact that I wasn't in the clearest state of mind at the time. The idea that I was truly betraying my species, and my own soul in the process, had been eating at me for a long time, and the most recent event had brought me to an internal crisis. I wanted to do what was right, I wanted to think of myself as a good person once again, I was desperate. And so I told the priest...pretty much what I've been telling you, in fact.

You can guess how that worked out for me.

The priest sounded regretful, as he informed me that he'd triggered the lock on the confessional door and called for the constables. "I believe your remorse is genuine, my child," he told me. "But I cannot take this confession and pronounce you cleansed. This is a situation that calls for a professional...investigator. You will need to be held until one can arrive."

I did not, I would like to point out, try to run. The squad of constables arrived in riot armor and carrying military-style weapons, but I didn't fight, nor even protest. They put me into a prisoner transport grav-car and flew somewhere - I'm presuming it was back towards the city center, although the cubicle where they stashed me was windowless, so I really had no idea. I hadn't gotten really scared yet. There had been a sense of near unreality to the whole situation - the cathedral, the confession, the arrest, was it really real? Was it a dream? The gravity of the situation really set in when the car landed and I was escorted to a cell. It was windowless and all but featureless, with only a toilet, a tiny sink, and a very thin polymer sleeping mat secured immobile to the floor. This was a serious cell, a high-security cell, and that's when the fear really grabbed hold of me. I was hungry, I was tired, and I was terrified.

What had I been thinking? Confessing to fraternizing with an alien - of course I'd been arrested. The very idea of doing as I'd done was anathema to any right-thinking citizen of the Imperium, outside of a madman like the Monsignor, and he had the protection of his warrant of trade. I had no protection, and what I had done could only be considered a capital offense.

I was going to die. Possibly in this very cell. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

In my haze of terror, I sat there for what seemed like a very, very long time. The light in the cell was on, and there was no way for me to control it, but I was too afraid to sleep anyway. I might have been there two hours or four, no way for me to tell, when the light shut off without warning, leaving me in absolute darkness.

Maybe it was nightfall outside, I thought. Maybe the prison had a sleep cycle of its own, and I was expected to lie down and try to sleep.

There was a click from the direction of the door, and a faint rubbing of metal on metal. I strained my eyes, but there was still not a glimmer of light, even though it surely sounded as though the door had opened. My brain leaped to a horrified irrational conclusion - I was about to be executed, and the darkness served in place of an executioner's hood.

A voice emerged from the dark, the last voice I would have imagined hearing:

"If you elect to end your leave early, I am authorized to compensate you with triple your daily wages for the unused leave days."

Doc Eldar, here in the pitch-black of a Rihak prison. Talking about...overtime pay?

"What?" I managed to utter.

"I cannot compel you to return to the ship before your ten days are complete," the xeno said, "but if you choose to return now, you will be eligible for triple pay. It is entirely your decision."

"They're going to kill me!" I said, my voice rising.

"Shore leave is dangerous," the xeno remarked. "Injury rates are higher among personnel on leave than under any other circumstances."

"We can actually get out of here? How did you get in?"

"The building's electrical systems are currently suffering extensive failures. As are the alarm systems. As is the constabulary vox network. Do you wish to return to the ship? I must caution that you will not be able to reschedule your leave, only receive the monetary payment."

"By the Throne, yes, let's get out of here!"

I rose to my feet, unsteady in the dark, and felt the xeno's hand close around my bicep, just above the elbow - the same hold, I vaguely remembered from some point in my education, used for guiding the visually handicapped. He steered me out the door and down the hallway, through a confusing series of turns and up several flights of stairs. I never saw or heard anyone else moving in the black; it was as if the two of us were the only living beings in the prison.

"Did you harm anyone doing this?" I asked cautiously.

Not even an instant's pause before his reply. "No. I am forbidden by the terms of my contract to use violence against any citizen of the Imperium in any situation, except the necessary defense of myself or a patient under my care, and even then I am restricted to nonlethal actions. This is merely a significant inconvenience."

"Why did you come after me? Is there an emergency on the ship?"

"Not an emergency. In states of emergency, you can be forced to cancel shore leave regardless of your wishes. That is in your contract. But there is a situation waiting in which you would be useful as my assistant."

We passed another door, and on the far side the air was breezy, and the glow of the city surrounded us - night had indeed fallen, but with a metropolis around us, the roof of the prison was far from dark. Doc Eldar held out a disc, like a very thick coin, and I took it.

I looked at the sky. "How will we get back to the ship? Is a shuttle coming?"

"You are holding a teleport beacon," he said. "Now that we are outside the shielding layer, the ship should be acquiring lock on us at this moment."

Teleportation is an experience that strikes everyone differently, at least from what I've learned in speaking to the few other people I know who've undergone it. One thing in common is that it is never pleasant. I felt like I was being pulled between where I stood on the roof and the teleportarium on the Ebenezer Majd, so that for an instant my hand holding the beacon and my feet were separated by thousands of kilometers, and that I was stretched like an elastic band, almost to the breaking point. All psychosomatic, I'm sure, but a terrible sensation nevertheless.

"Deploy the stent now," the xeno said. I pumped the squeeze lever until the dial reached twelve, held it for four ticks of the wall-mounted clock, and hit the release trigger. The officer on the table looked like he was about to start vomiting. Doc Eldar adjusted his head several times, listening to the man's chest. "Left main flow restored. Circumflex also needs one stent. You need to change your lifestyle and develop better health habits," he directed towards our patient, "or you will return for an open bypass surgery. Which I will perform, as I am also the most qualified surgeon."

The second stent was placed half a minute later, and we left the angio suite, with the patient in the care of the cardiology team - as I'm sure he would have preferred to be from the start.

"Was that the situation where you needed my assistance?" I asked. I had squeezed a lever and pulled a trigger on cue. In most surgeries, I did actually fulfill a useful role, but this was a task any nurse could have done, or any cardiology tech. Or a servitor of any but the most primitive mono-task sort, for that matter.

"Yes. I do not work well with other members of the medical staff." He offered no more. I could have asked further, but I refrained. I do wonder about it at times.

(If you're wondering where the slapstick is, don't worry, that's coming next installment)

As always, all feedback is welcomed!

Kylaer fucked around with this message at 03:45 on Sep 30, 2015

# ? Sep 30, 2015 03:42

Hustlin Floh: Jul 20, 2009; by Jeffrey of YOSPOS

Just finished the Macharius trilogy after starting it waaaay back when. Not bad overall, plus a guardsman tells his buddy "Don't be a dick".

Question about the end though: Is there any other fluff that has Macharius dying in his final battle? From what I remember all that has ever been said about him is that he died on his return journey after his men refused to follow him into the Halo Stars (after all, he's just Space Alexander). Is that a retcon or just artistic license?

# ? Sep 30, 2015 04:36

Sandweed: Sep 7, 2006; All your friends are me.

Kylaer posted:

Here is another Doc Eldar story. It's the first of that series of three that I mentioned a while back; it's slice-of-life, not a lot of action, but I had some ideas and wanted to explore them. Honestly, a lot of the time I can't get my ideas to come out in written form exactly the way I want them to be, but I guess that's just a matter of practice.

(If you're wondering where the slapstick is, don't worry, that's coming next installment)

As always, all feedback is welcomed!

I like it. Especially the bit about overpay.

# ? Sep 30, 2015 11:37

HerpicleOmnicron5: May 31, 2013; How did this smug dummkopf ever make general?

GannerOne posted:

I'd even be glad if Paradox would have made a game. Hardcore strategy management of the empire from Terra.

Interstellar War Simulator 2015 used to be called Chapter Master, a Warhammer 40k, and received a 40k mod. You command a Space Marine chapter and it is pretty great for some 40k strategy.

# ? Sep 30, 2015 11:48

TheArmorOfContempt: Nov 29, 2012; Did I ever tell you my favorite color was blue?

SRM posted:

I absolutely adore that game. The balance between shooting and melee combat is perfect, and recovering health by murdering Orks is the most 40k health mechanic ever. Relic really knows their stuff in regards to 40k, and I really hope they get the license to play with again.

I wanted a tad more, but I'd agree it is the best 40K video game yet. I think I would of preferred a combination of Gears of War still cover and hack n slash. I wanted to be a big ole murder machine against Orks and normal humans, but figured a more traditional gun fight would make sense against chaos marines. I do really like the soundtrack, it nails 40k, and I like just listening to it in general.

# ? Oct 3, 2015 04:01

Arc Hammer: Mar 4, 2013; Got any deathsticks?

I prefer Dawn of War 2's soundtrack to Spess Mahreens. And gently caress putting enemy gunners in positions where you can't hammer them and have to rely on ranged weaponry.

# ? Oct 3, 2015 06:09

Arquinsiel: Jun 1, 2006; "There is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look to themselves first."

God Bless Margaret Thatcher
God Bless England
RIP My Iron Lady

Uroboros posted:

I wanted a tad more, but I'd agree it is the best 40K video game yet. I think I would of preferred a combination of Gears of War still cover and hack n slash. I wanted to be a big ole murder machine against Orks and normal humans, but figured a more traditional gun fight would make sense against chaos marines. I do really like the soundtrack, it nails 40k, and I like just listening to it in general.

The developers wanted GoW style cover too. Then they realised that cover is for pussies and replaced it with the angry meter.

# ? Oct 3, 2015 06:21

Khizan: Jul 30, 2013

Uroboros posted:

I think I would of preferred a combination of Gears of War still cover

If the Emperor meant for you to take cover, he wouldn't have armoured you in blessed ceramite. Now shut up and charge them with your chainsword.

# ? Oct 3, 2015 06:29

hopterque: Mar 9, 2007; sup

You don't need to take cover, you're literally wearing your cover.

# ? Oct 3, 2015 11:52

GannerOne: Feb 25, 2014

Anyone checked out Wolf King? Not that familiar with Chris Wraight's work.

# ? Oct 4, 2015 09:30

Deptfordx: Dec 23, 2013

He's alright. Space Wolves seem to be his thing. His Space Marine Battles, and the Blood of Asaheim books have all been decent reads. Didn't really like Scars, the writing was fine, just didn't care for the story.

As for Wolf King. Because of my terrible eyesight, i exclusively read Ebooks these days (Backlit, can increase the fontsize etc). No way in hell I'm paying �20 for a 128p novella.

# ? Oct 4, 2015 12:38

Lincoln`s Wax: May 1, 2000; My other, other car is a centipede filled with vaginas.

I really like his Blood of Asaheim series and Battle of the Fang. I normally don't bother with novellas but he's good with wolves.

# ? Oct 4, 2015 12:42

TheArmorOfContempt: Nov 29, 2012; Did I ever tell you my favorite color was blue?

hopterque posted:

You don't need to take cover, you're literally wearing your cover.

I just wanted a bit of change in the pace, the game got very repetitive, needing cover for enemies wielding plasma or melta weapons would've made it interesting.

# ? Oct 5, 2015 13:51

hopterque: Mar 9, 2007; sup

Uroboros posted:

I just wanted a bit of change in the pace, the game got very repetitive, needing cover for enemies wielding plasma or melta weapons would've made it interesting.

Yeah it definitely did get repetitive but I still think having to take cover wouldn't have helped that.

# ? Oct 5, 2015 14:09

SRM: Jul 10, 2009; ~*FeElIn' AweS0mE*~

Just got an email pointing to a new fiction event happening:
http://www.blacklibrary.com/the-beast-arises.html
Looks like a book a month for the next year around 1500 years after the Heresy. Dan Abnett's writing the first one, which has Rogal Dorn as a central character. Could be cool, provided these are actual novels they're releasing and not $50 novellas.

# ? Oct 7, 2015 21:13

Deptfordx: Dec 23, 2013

Did some digging.

Simon and Schuster say 248 pages.

Amazon says 336.

So :shrug:

# ? Oct 8, 2015 16:21

Dodoman: Feb 26, 2009; A moment of laxity
A lifetime of regret; Lipstick Apathy

Deptfordx posted:

Did some digging.

Simon and Schuster say 248 pages.

Amazon says 336.

So

So 88 pages then.

# ? Oct 10, 2015 07:14

Cooked Auto: Aug 4, 2007; If you will not serve in combat, you will serve on the firing line!

Dodoman posted:

So 88 pages then.

With 12 pages dedicated to adverts and an excerpt of the second book. Just to bring the page count up to an even 100.

# ? Oct 10, 2015 18:48

Enentol: Jul 16, 2005; Middle Class Gangster

Why is Black Library so bad at keeping things in print? Why don't they want my money? I've been after a new copy of the Ravenor Omnibus for ages...

I see that they've just reprinted Eisenhorn (with the great French cover art), and I'm really hoping they do the same for Ravenor now...

# ? Oct 11, 2015 02:24

Groetgaffel: Oct 30, 2011; Groetgaffel smacked the living shit out of himself doing 297 points of damage.

Enentol posted:

Why is Black Library so bad at keeping things in print? Why don't they want my money? I've been after a new copy of the Ravenor Omnibus for ages...

I see that they've just reprinted Eisenhorn (with the great French cover art), and I'm really hoping they do the same for Ravenor now...

They apparently don't want your money, just buy the books off of Amazon or something.

# ? Oct 11, 2015 11:32

Enentol: Jul 16, 2005; Middle Class Gangster

Groetgaffel posted:

They apparently don't want your money, just buy the books off of Amazon or something.

It's kinda hard to swallow $60 for a used copy.

# ? Oct 11, 2015 18:41

berzerkmonkey: Jul 23, 2003

Guys, guys! The Macragge's Honour Graphic Novel is out. According to the email I received from BL,

quote:

�It will be like holding a 500 million dollar movie in your hand�� That�s what artist Neil Roberts promised when talking about Macragge�s Honour, the first Horus Heresy graphic novel. And you know what? He and author Dan Abnett delivered.

Just to put this into perspective, Avengers cost $220 million and Dark Knight Rises cost $230 million, so Maccragge's Honour is twice as good as either, or equally as good as both somehow combined into some Marvel/DC explodgasm! And BL is only charging $40 for hc, $28 for ebook - how can GW afford to do this?

# ? Oct 11, 2015 20:27

Deptfordx: Dec 23, 2013

berzerkmonkey posted:

Guys, guys! The Macragge's Honour Graphic Novel is out. According to the email I received from BL,

Just to put this into perspective, Avengers cost $220 million and Dark Knight Rises cost $230 million, so Maccragge's Honour is twice as good as either, or equally as good as both somehow combined into some Marvel/DC explodgasm! And BL is only charging $40 for hc, $28 for ebook - how can GW afford to do this?

They are sweet and gentle souls, uninterested in vulgar profits. They may have a giant golden statue of Sigmar outside their offices, but that's just for show. Inside it's Zen gardens, and the gentle exchange of koans of wisdom.

# ? Oct 11, 2015 22:45

Cooked Auto: Aug 4, 2007; If you will not serve in combat, you will serve on the firing line!

Deptfordx posted:

They are sweet and gentle souls, uninterested in vulgar profits. They may have a giant golden statue of Sigmar outside their offices, but that's just for show. Inside it's Zen gardens, and the gentle exchange of koans of wisdom.

Sounds like some kind of heresy to me. :commissar:

Where are the venerations to the Immortal God-Emperor?

# ? Oct 12, 2015 01:23

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# ? May 10, 2024 22:00

Kylaer: Aug 4, 2007; I'm SURE walking around in a respirator at all times in an (even more) OPEN BIDENing society is definitely not a recipe for disaster and anyone that's not cool with getting harassed by CHUDs are cave dwellers. I've got good brain!

^^^

I actually have a vague outline for a one-shot short story about this kind of location in the 40K setting - an actual monastery with rock gardens, meditation, no movement faster than a walk, and so forth. It's my concept of an Eversor temple.

# ? Oct 12, 2015 02:32

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > The Book Barn > Warhammer: After 18 years, finally an end

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