Clicky

Jump to content

Vegna Fouroux

Public
  • Posts

    27
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Everything posted by Vegna Fouroux

  1. this just instantly made me think of our community: />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGp4DvFEgh8&feature=fvsr
  2. Glad to see so many fans, seriously disappointment with the online presence though, like it has great potential,
  3. Ill be honest i just had ogotos and e-200 laser rifles before my xbox broke, destroys everything.
  4. Sorry but I see a distinct lack of popularity in these wonderful games with everyone I know, am I the only one who thinks they are balls-to-the-wall awesome?
  5. Did it a while back, same result; ENTJ e i t j 44,62,75,56 lol J.P Morgan
  6. I AM THE DAY'S TOP POSTER.

  7. #2 I should make this a book "German History for Minors 1918-1932"
  8. i thought ther'd be loads of comments here like "YEAH" "WOOOO" "BOOM" well whatever not like i care anyway im a celebrity psychologist irl. fuk u guys.
  9. Praetorians have come a long way, they used to guard my tent
  10. "I'm doing my rightful duties of spreading heresy and taint" Isn't that kind of a contradiction? I mean let's look at it logically; first we must assume that for you to be heretical and full of taint, Ordo must therefore not be these things. Which it isn't, they're pretty cool upstanding emperor-fearing guys and not too keen on the taint. But if we take this assumption then they would fall within the bracket of "rightful duties" of being pretty cool upstanding emperor-fearing guys, whereas you would be a guy there's naked pictures of the internet of. Patrox your name is most sweet
  11. This is some really great stuff man! As to your initial comments....I'll be back...some day
  12. I joined because sparta was greek, ordo was roman and bruno didn't like him. Rebellious teen shit there. I've got daddy issues.
  13. WELL...NO CHECK THE LITERATURE SECTION YES
  14. FINE FINE JUST IGNORE THE FACT THAT I WROTE A STORY. FUCKER.
  15. "you know what I do boy?" The adjutant nodded quickly. He couldn't see the old man due to the darkness and realized the he in turn couldn't have seen the nod and was about to speak when - "Good. You don't talk. I hate talkers." There ensued a silence. The young NCO looked about the office. It was, (much like the old man himself) a relic. Very much a touch of the "old Ordo" about it. No neon to be found here, or brilliant sheets of metal...or much technology at all. With what he could make out from the warm, lamplight , there appeared to be a large, dark, wooden writing desk in the corner of the room. A few framed photographs with some very senior Ordo Personnel in them and the pale outline of the outdated Ordo Imperialis Crux dominating from above the desk. Again the voice came out from the shadows. "But you're wrong you know. No one knows what I do. Except - well." The adjutant approached the desk. "Sir...I have here..a message from His excellency, The Imperator." But the voice just kept on talking; "You know I'm the most unfortunate? Oh they all did well for themselves; Zrazor got that Harem finally approved, bloody degenerate, Agares got to facelift the entire Imperiosus Cult. Kytec...well I always liked him. I don't begrudge him anything. But Kristian Kit and that cane of his? We're the same age you know, but he makes me feel like a wrinkly fish, dying his hair silver prematurely...smarmy bastard. They were all my friends once, in the old days, before Intus and Aelus..died.." The man hobbled to the desk from the back of the room, where he had been sitting on the floor the whole time. His face was like a battered Ash tree. But the first thing the boy noticed was the way the light danced in his eyes. Big, brilliant, blue eyes gleaming with a ferocious intelligence. "However, that's the past and I guess you're here with the new. Give me the message young man." "Well...uh...Sir it's more of a parcel" "Give it here." Taking the parcel, He hobbled over to the comfortable, leather chair, and removed what sounded like empty bottles off the desk. There was a rustling of paper, a thud of metal. And then utter silence. "Oh." After 5 minutes "Sir?" He swivelled the chair around. "Oh it's too be expected, someone like me." His eyes flashed in the light. "Too much up here you see." He said pointing to his head. he took the parcel off the desk and showed it to the boy. Inside there was a gun and a note simply stating You're in the way, leave at your convience. - Aryte "Sir you don't mean -" "Yes. Surprised? Don't think Ordo doesn't do this to each other?" "But...But...you're..." "Yes I'm Tiridates Mikadze, former Primus of the Frumentarii. 7 great wounds I bear from battle. I kill my enemies and scatter their ashes to the wind. Yet now I must make this sacrifice for the Ordo. My past services disregarded. My memory deleted. Tell me boy, what would you do?" "Sir...I don't know..." The old man smiled. SUDDENLY, multicoloured neon lights started flashing up the office. a podium arose out of the ground. A Furry in a hot pink officer's uniform started gyrating as loud, drumming, techno pulsed through the room. Enlisted men in hot pants started rushing the office, everyone dancing to their own Boom Boom. Howling furries descended from the ceiling caked in glowstick fluid. Zrazor Rozenstrauch, the pink uniform-clad furry, begin singing; "IT'S RAINING MEN..HALLEJUAH IT'S RAINING MEN..." At this point The Imperator Aryte Vesperia strode into the epileptic office, donning a flashing multi-coloured strobe-cape, he looked every inch the diva-wolf. He leaped at the young NCO roaring; ORDO IMPERIALIS - IT'S A PARTY.
  16. The Preparation. Zrazor clawed his way out of the rivers current which, weak as it was took its toll on his exhausted body. Starving, naked, utterly exposed to the elements but still alive. Zrazor flashed a savage grin. He felt lethal, not angry. He would be the raging waters to the Vanguard’s fires. But this would take time, the one thing he had in abundance. He raced his mind, one way then another. Food, clothing and shelter were the most important necessities right now. His Ordo “back up buttplug” a beacon which sends a distress signal of any frumentarii operative in the field, had been removed upon discovery in Castle Snow Mew. Zrazor hissed at the memory. …………………………….4 days later……………………………………. Progress. Zrazor had quickly established himself as King of the Verklund Hinterlands. He ate what he liked, killed as he pleased, wore the warmest of materials and honestly did not want for any material basics. As I type Zrazor’s story it is truly remarkable upon reflection of how strange man is. One day he is cultivated, dignified, full of noble virtues, Honourable and peace loving, and in two weeks he can change; Become a feral beast a mighty avatar of Mother Nature herself. But on with the story. It was time to expand his territory. He had driven the snakes out, made a shaky peace with the bears, and burned all the furries he had found to the stake. But the resources of his area were exhausted and he ventured into the deep jungle, ready to “snap any motherfucking Nazi animals” he growled in the parlance of the sector. Hours in and he was making progress, chopping down thick shrubbery and generally establishing himself through a series of roars and body language. Perhaps I will erect a shrine to the imperator the last remaining civilised side of him thought, and he did. Selecting a row of Oak trees Zrazor chiselled, hacked, grated and generally toiled for 40 days and 40 nights and produced one of the 7 Wonders of the Second World; The Triumphal Procession of Verklund. Starting out with a statue of Aeneas, it spans the deep jungle following with statues of Julius Caesar, His successor emperors such as Trajan and eventually the heir to this legacy Imperator Vesperia himself. Just as he had finished the last detail of the Imperator model, Zrazor glanced around. His heightened senses knowing something was afoot. The rustle of a leaf, the breaking of a twig, the sound of prey fornicating, Zrazor knew all these distinct sounds of the jungle and more, but this…this sense was different… “BOOM HAHAHAHAHAHAHA” Zrazor jerked, it had been the loudest thing he had heard in what seemed like a lifetime of quiet. “AWWWWHHHH YEEEEEEAAAAA.” He looked up and a shadow of black descended upon him. He woke up by a fire. “Shit, shit, shit how could I get captured..again? I’m fucking in for it this time, they’ll roast me alive and eat my balls!” But surprisingly he was unbound. He rose up and turned around just to see his captor arriving into the jungle clearing with more firewood. “SO AWAKE I SEE.” The figure was humanoid, an in some kind of black armor, it looked old….but wait!... what was that symbol? The flaming star!?! This thing…man… was a Merczateer! Perhaps some deranged veteran? A rogue light ops who had finally lost it? Zrazor would never know… the figure dropped the firewood and sprinted off. “STAY MOIST SON, AND DON’T TELL ANYBODY YOU SAW ME HERE YO.” The faint purple glow of night vision googles betrayed his shadowy escape, but Zrazor never saw the Merczateer again… What Zrazor did know was that he was ready. The legions of Vanguard would stand in the way of him and his revenge but his divine faith would hold him through. Ave Imperator. To be continued.
  17. Vegna Fouroux

    Escape

    Escape Zrazor Rozenstrauch ran. He ran and ran. Not once did he tarry. Not once did his hairless body, with only a pink loincloth for cover think about doing anything else, a panzerfaust round flew by his ear. "Holy Throne" He shouted and jumped to his right, almost immediately regretting it. His bare bottom slid down the rocky mountainside. but into the thankfully cool and unthankfully filthy river. Zrazor breathed with his mouth alone. How long had it been? Real Food? Christ...He let his body float down the easy river it's noxious fumes disguising his body to any onlookers from the mountain above. He lay on his back in the water. Letting the horrors of the past two years wash away from him. Some time beforehand... Titan, Base of the Ordo Imperialis, Zrazor was on sentry duty, or rather supervising the sentries from his outpost station. "A quiet night" he mused and looked up at the picture of the Imperator on his desk. The image reminding him to keep vigilant. Alas easier said than done! Zrazor had been on continuous duty for 6 days now without sleep. The main force had been sent away to Chronus, where it was rumoured an Alliance Navy Armada was planning to use as its former base. Zrazor inevitably drifted off. SNAP. He awoke in a dark room. he could see nothing bar the outline of a man in front of the sole light of the area. His mind raced "Shit...shit..I dozed off. FUCK." The light intensified and he could make out that the man wore an eyepatch. "Tiridates Mikadze! you're...dead." the man smiled. "And so are you, Zrazor Rozenstrauch was officially made an unperson at 3 A.M this morning and executed at dawn, no explanation was needed or given for this." Mikadze was Frumentarii, it was common knowledge even it wasn’t official. Zrazor had to be careful or he might end up in their top secret tower of tortures, where it was rumoured disgraced admiral Shadow Keegan was now the gaoler, he shuddered at the thought. “Cigarette.” Tiridates actually looked surprised. “What’s that unperson?” Zrazor looked up without fear. “Look you bastard, you’ve taken everything from me, EVERYTHING. Just give me a fucking cigarette!” Tiridates sat down, he looked a lot older than Zrazor had initially thought. “You shouldn’t smoke Zrazor, it’s worse than Candy for breakfast.” Candy for breakfast? Could this be some kind of code? He quickly stopped trying to figure it out, analysing the mind of a frumentarii was like trying to figure out a high functioning autistic rubik cube; it appears complex and it is fucking complex. “I’m going to level with you Zrazor we need your help, this kind of help requires a few things before it can be given, firstly, the Ordo needs to think you’re dead, secondly, Vanguard needs to think you’re alive and thirdly, Vanguard needs to think you’re alive because our execution of you did not go to plan and you escaped with important documents to bring back to your real masters who were Vanguard all along, you get the drift? Good, have a cigarette.” Tiridates offered Candy. Zrazor gulped, but didn’t accept. He spoke quietly “Alright…Alright… I’ll do it, whats the job in Vanguard? Officer position? Grunt? High Command?” He laughed. “Hell I might even enjoy this.” Tiridates smiled in return. “Oh no..we’re inserting you into Castle Snow Mew. Zrazor burst out laughing at this. “That some kind of codename?” …………………………….Present Day………………………….. Zrazor continued to float down the stream. No it hadn’t been a code name. It was a torture camp as well as the Fuhrer of Vanguard’s private residence. Inmates were forced to dress in nothing but pink skirts. The things Zrazor had seen…the horror, the sheer depravity. And for what? The Fuhrer was still alive, Zrazor had failed his mission, he had broken finally and barely escaped with his life. (not that it was much of a life now). But he couldn’t fail the imperator. He would hunt, he would train, he would become all things, and he would return…one day…to Castle Snow Mew to finish his mission To Be Continued
  18. And so it was that in the 50th year of the reign of Imperator Aryte Vesperia that the Vanguard Armed Forces rose once more to defy his rule. It was a strange time, a time of fur and fury. Our story picks up during the fiery sermon of the Custodis Mysterium of The Imperiosus Cult, Ordo
×

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Privacy Policy, and Terms of Use.