Hey once again, this thread serves exactly the same purpose as my previous one except it is for Warhammer Fantasy.
8 years agomadmatt0122
This is just a love poem that i wrote in memory of my ex girlfriend, Loise.
Sometime late at night, I lie awake and watch you sleeping.
YouÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re lost in peaceful dreams, so I turn off the lights, and I lay there in the dark.
And then the thought crossed my mind
If I never wake again, and leave you in the night
Would you ever doubt the way I feel towards you in my heart?
Cause IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve lost loved ones in my life. Who never knew how much I loved them.
Now I live with the regret, that my true feelings for them never were revealed.
So I made a promise to myself. To say each day, how much you mean to me.
And avoid that circumstance; where thereÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s no second chance to tell you how I feel.
And if my life comes and goes, will you know how much I loved you.
Did I try every day to show you how I feel, that youÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re my only love.
And if my time on this earth were for nought, would you be able to get through, to get on without me
Is all the love that I gave you in the past, going to be enough to last?
If our tomorrow never comes
8 years agomadmatt0122
Hey guys, i had my Prom yesterday (18:30 til23:30) and also went to an after party. YAY! i can't really remember what happened because i got rather pissed (for the girst time). Apparently i ran around my best mates garden half naked with his girlfriend. (???) Other than that i had a great time.
8 years agomadmatt0122
It had all started when the lord of the realm, King Duronim Hardhelm, had declared the Marunans to be an evil race with only the desire to destroy the human population of Ellusia. He had raised a massive army to wage what was to be a fruitless war. Thousands had died in the slaughter that had followed. Whole cities had been smashed to the ground, entire villages put to the sword. After three bitter years of conflict, a truce had been signed and the war forgotten over time. The following decades had been good for all the people of Ellusia; trade had flourished and relations were better between the Marunans and the humans than they had ever been before. It was a Ã¢â‚¬Å“Golden AgeÃ¢â‚¬Â as many had called it. But alas, it had not lasted.
A group of rebels had arisen to claim the KingÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s throne for their own corrupt reasons. At first King Alethran Hardhelm, grandson of Duronim had paid them no heed, believing them to be a minor threat to the safety of his kingdom. That had not been the case however. The rebellion had grown as it had gained support from the farmers furthest from the influence of King Alethran. It had been several weeks since he had heard any news of the rebels when a messenger had arrived in his court, bearing a blood-spattered scroll that brought terrible news. The man had ridden for two whole weeks through the wilderness to reach the king. He was half starved and his horse was like a sack of bones, so malnourished were the pair. The king had allowed the man to rest while he read the message. It had only a quickly scrawled message inside. Fort Vailor had fallen to the rebels. Once the man had recovered from his arduous journey, the King had asked him to tell the story of the fortÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s capture. All the man had to say was that the garrison had been attacked by surprise. Somehow, one of the rebels had managed to sneak into the fort and open the barred gate from the inside. That was all the man had to tell the king. He could guess the rest. The garrison who would have been totally unprepared were slaughtered where they had stood with hardly any chance to defend themselves.
The king had at once issued an order for recruiting parties to be sent out to every village within his domain.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“We will march in eight months time!Ã¢â‚¬Â the King had declared to his court. That was how it had all started. A recruiting party had arrived in TorenÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s village and he had signed up as a soldier. So it was that Toren, a young man at the time, had left his wife and his young daughter to join the KingÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s army. It had been thirteen years since Toren had seen not only his family, but his whole village. The rebels had managed to escape the kingÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s every attempt to destroy them once and for all. True, there had been small skirmishes but never a pitched battle. The rebellion still lived on. It had been thirteen years of bitter hardship, thirteen years of slaughter and bloodshed, thirteen years of loneliness for Toren. His only company was the other soldiers of his battalion. But now he had returned to his village,his home. He could once again joke and laugh with his old friends and neighbours, once again see his family. He could finally return to a life of simple comforts and peace. He just wished that it could last, that he could hang his battered sword upon the mantelpiece above his hearth and live a life.
He would be a soldier no longer. Or so he prayed.
8 years agomadmatt0122
I have finally finished chapter 2 of my story. I know it's a little rough around the edges but i would appreciate it if you couldgive me some feedback.
Erud followed Karin and the man who was supposedly her father back to the camp that the other men had begun to construct. Each man was busy; some were pitching crude tents that looked as if they were made from animal hide whereas others were preparing campfires. Every single person was busy.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Tell me, what your name is boy?Ã¢â‚¬Â the man asked, exasperated.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Erud, SirÃ¢â‚¬Â replied Erud, not quite sure how to address such a person.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“MineÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s TorenÃ¢â‚¬Â he barked back at the boy, wondering what he was doing in the Keep at such a time. Was it possible that this boy, Erud, had no idea of what happened up there? Then again, he and the men had been gone a long time, so long that his dear Karin had almost forgotten him, Toren mused to himself. It was then that he realised the Erud was staring up at him with a pleading look.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“What is it?Ã¢â‚¬Â he growled softly at Erud.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who are you?Ã¢â‚¬Â Erud asked, scared. The very fact that these men seemed to be from around his village terrified Erud. They all looked as if they would gladly rip off his head if they were told to, not even considering their actions. He was scared and it showed.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“Scary, huhÃ¢â‚¬Â Toren said, his voice more relaxed than before.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“YesÃ¢â‚¬Â Erud answered. And it was true. Erud could not remember any other moment that he had been this afraid, ready to turn and run at a momentÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s notice. But he would not; he could not abandon Karin even though this man was related to her.
Karin surveyed the campsite as only a girl could; picking out minute details that she was sure that Erud would have missed. She saw the men laughing jovially as they removed their armour. Karin even noticed the presence of a woman and a small but healthy looking child. The place seemed to be peaceful, at least for the moment. Karin glanced into the interior of a nearby tent and saw the various weapons of the men carelessly discarded in a pile on the floor. Next to it, on a small stand, she saw a gleaming sword. The blade seemed to glow in the interior of the tent, its grip wrapped with a fine wire of gold. The hilt contained a blood-red ruby that looked as if it contained a flame within its centre. Karin stared in wonderment at the weapon. It was not just a tool for killing but also a thing of beauty. The way the light was reflected off of one side of the sword made it look as if it glowed with a magical aura.
Toren looked round to see where Karin had gotten too. He exploded in rage as he saw where she was, somewhere that she was not supposed to be.
Ã¢â‚¬ÂKarinÃ¢â‚¬Â he yelled at the girl. No longer a girl, he mused. She was growing into a fine young woman, and he had missed it all. Toren suddenly felt ashamed of his sudden outburst, ashamed that he had not been around while his child had grown up. He had not even seen her in thirteen years. He was even surprised that she had still recognised him after such a long time. TorenÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s mind lurched back into the present as he heard a soft keening noise. It was coming from Karin. Toren realised that she was crying, probably because he had shouted at her.
Ã¢â‚¬Å“IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m sorry KarinÃ¢â‚¬Â he apologised, not knowing what else to do. Being away for so long had made him forget how to be a father to his own child. All he was to her was a soldier. A cold hearted killer. True, it was fighting the KingÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s enemies, yet it was killing all the same. Strange, he mused that these children, in fact the inhabitants of the entire village had no idea of the conflict that had been raging for years in the rest of the realm.
8 years agomadmatt0122
This is basically a post that will tell you that i will be doing my GCSE exams over the next few weeks so will probably not be online much. On the plus side i sjould have the 2nd chapter of The Great Keep finished soon and will post it when it is done. For those of you who do not know what that it, check my previous journal entries. Until then, i shall depart.
8 years agomadmatt0122
This is yet another story that i have started. Without further ado..
Colonel William McCrae stood inside the command bunker, staring out towards the rapidly advancing horde of Greenskins. As he glanced to his left, he saw Lieutenant Ayers pull his power sword from its sheath beside his waist. McCraeÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s eyes followed the edge of the blade along to AyersÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s hand. Ayers had had his left arm brutally hacked from his body by an Ork on Malena Prime several years before. That had been, if memory served the colonel correctly, their first battle together. Ayers had been a private while McCrae himself had been a captain. That was a long time ago though. The 13th Larenian, the regiment that McCrae and Ayers had served in on Malena Prime had been wiped out almost to a man. Out of 20,000 men who had served in the battle, only a handful had survived, amongst those survivors were Ayers and McCrae. It had been their first battle and they had been scared. Ayers, forced to fight in a trench and expected to die at a whim by his commanders, McCrae supposed to set an example to the rest of his men. This had not been the case for either of them though; Ayers had curled into a ball at the base of his dugout and sobbed while McCrae had hidden in the scorched ruins of a Leman Russ battle tank. Despite this they were not cowards.
Ayers and McCrae had been decorated as Ã¢â‚¬Å“Valiant Defenders of The ImperiumÃ¢â‚¬Â after the battle was over. And that wasnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t all. They had been awarded Macharian Cross each and Ayers was further awarded by being given the Medallion Crimson in recognition of his horrific injury. It had happened as Ayers was in his dugout. A massive Ork had climbed into the trench, swung a giant cleaver at the man next to Ayers, decapitating him with a single stroke. Ayers must have made some noise for the brute had then looked down at the man at its feet. It had raised the cleaver above its head and brought it down upon AyersÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s left shoulder, shattering his bone and rendering it useless. He had not realised it at the time but Ayers had pulled his laspistol from its holster and shot the Ork through its eye with but a simple pull of a trigger. Ayers then lay in the trench while the battle had raged around his position. He could still recall the agony that he had felt that day, the cries and moans of the wounded all around him, the final cheers of victory as the reinforcements that their commander had requested had arrived and wiped out the Greenskins. As the battle drew to a close, the surviving men walked among the trenches looking for any survivors. It was then that they had found the mutilated Ayers, his arm left hanging from his body by a scrap of torn and bloodied flesh. He had been found in a puddle of his own blood, unconscious because of his wound. The men who rescued him had not seen the message scrawled in the bloody mud next to him. Ã¢â‚¬Å“Emperor Preserve Me!Ã¢â‚¬Â the message had read. And the Emperor had done just that.
Ayers had been hurried to a surgeonÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s tent and what remained of his arm had been removed and replaced with a bionic limb. Made of steel, it was supposed to be able to survive even the hardest blow from a sword or axe without breaking. It had taken a whole month for him to recover from his wound. It was in the field hospital that he had met the then Lieutenant McCrae and they had become friends. They were not alone though. The two young men also met others such as Private Dawson and Corporal Harrison. Though they did not know it, they would serve together in the near future.
The four men had then proceeded to serve together in various battles, winning glorious victories and also narrowly escaping from disastrous defeats. They fought together through them all. Becoming decorated veterans and rising through the ranks. So it was that the four men along with the relatively new sergeant Jenkins who had been transferred from 173rd squad to act as medic for colonel McCrae and his command squad, looked out of the command bunker together.
This thread is just for introductions and also what projects you are working on. Just post a short comment about yourself and what and why you like Games Workshop products. Feel free to spevulate on whatever you want as long as it is Games Workshop related.