Steefan Horking and his Cybork Boyz
- Thread starter Orjetax
- Start date
Count Von Bruno
Member
I'm loving the continuing story of Steefan Horking Orj, and I'm seriously honoured with the homage- Kownt Von Bismork looks as perennially baffled as I do most of the time 
Really creative man, kudos.
Really creative man, kudos.
Ti Pouchon
Member
A tin-skull painboy for 99p? And Steefan Horking has three?
Yeah, and I still can't source a decently priced one...
That aside, the cyborks are great and I really enjoy this thread.
Yeah, and I still can't source a decently priced one...
That aside, the cyborks are great and I really enjoy this thread.
Chico
Member
Ti Pouchon":1g2oye05 said:
Mine was just labelled as RT Space Ork:
http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/281300841375? ... 1497.l2649
I see them pop up quite alot but I always have my searches as broad as i can so I tend to search just ''Ork'' and ending soonest
Orjetax
Member
The neurotoxin dart cracked off Steefan Horking's shoulder guard. Neither he, nor anyone else it seemed, could locate the damn stuntie sniper.
His boyz remained unscathed. A few Blood Axes still jerked and twitched in the dirt as their insides turned to liquid. A few more had stopped twitching. The Lugrobs, oblivious, clanked in crazy circles around camp. The stuntie sniper did not even bother with them.
. . .
Subject 24601 hurtled through the warp. His consciousness split and reformed, flickers of fever dreams and half-formed memories flashing across his brain.
His boyz remained unscathed. A few Blood Axes still jerked and twitched in the dirt as their insides turned to liquid. A few more had stopped twitching. The Lugrobs, oblivious, clanked in crazy circles around camp. The stuntie sniper did not even bother with them.
. . .
Subject 24601 hurtled through the warp. His consciousness split and reformed, flickers of fever dreams and half-formed memories flashing across his brain.
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Orjetax
Member
The Brain Boyz had bred him for this. Trained him for this. Pumped him full of chemicals for this. All designed, he knew, so he could complete the mission.
The fragments were scrambled. The Brain Boyz told him it would be difficult, but that he was ready. And that he should hold tightly to each scrap of memory. That being shot through the warp across thousands of years and unknown space would shred his thoughts. But that he - 24601 - must hold them together. Must keep focused on the mission.
Fragments now. 24601 stepping into the chamber. The Brain Boyz telling him the importance of the mission. Telling him that they depended on him. Then another fragment. The Brain Boyz making
24601 study multiplication tables. And practice long division. And cursive glyph writing.
And another fragment now, sleep deprived, flashing lights, and out-performing the other boyz on the centrifuge. 24601 grinning as the others puked up their breakfast.
More memories. The pain of the tubes being bored into his head, and the burn of chemicals flowing in. To make him smarter, the Brain Boyz said, and so he could survive the warp and still remember his mission.
These thoughts jumbled together and split apart again.
The journey was long and strange. The weird denizens of the warp often interrupted 24601's scattered dreaming. Half real claws would scrape at his armor before being repelled by the armor the brain boyz had encased him in. Unseen monstrosities shrieked at him as he hurtled past. And once, a vaguely 'umie presence peered at him curiously. All of these moments blended into one long eternity - somehow inside and outside of time simultaneously.
Abruptly, Subject 24601 came to a stop. He opened his eyes.
. . .
Subject 24601 took in the scene quickly. Immediately in front of him, turned away, a stuntie with a sniper's firearm. 24601's eyes flicked to the distance: an ork camp with dead ladz strewn about it.
The brain boyz had prepared him to face the warp - and he had done so!
A sniper? That was nothing.
In one fluid movement, 24601 flicked on his power axe and raised it above his head.
Then he split the stuntie from skull to groin.
The fragments were scrambled. The Brain Boyz told him it would be difficult, but that he was ready. And that he should hold tightly to each scrap of memory. That being shot through the warp across thousands of years and unknown space would shred his thoughts. But that he - 24601 - must hold them together. Must keep focused on the mission.
Fragments now. 24601 stepping into the chamber. The Brain Boyz telling him the importance of the mission. Telling him that they depended on him. Then another fragment. The Brain Boyz making
24601 study multiplication tables. And practice long division. And cursive glyph writing.
And another fragment now, sleep deprived, flashing lights, and out-performing the other boyz on the centrifuge. 24601 grinning as the others puked up their breakfast.
More memories. The pain of the tubes being bored into his head, and the burn of chemicals flowing in. To make him smarter, the Brain Boyz said, and so he could survive the warp and still remember his mission.
These thoughts jumbled together and split apart again.
The journey was long and strange. The weird denizens of the warp often interrupted 24601's scattered dreaming. Half real claws would scrape at his armor before being repelled by the armor the brain boyz had encased him in. Unseen monstrosities shrieked at him as he hurtled past. And once, a vaguely 'umie presence peered at him curiously. All of these moments blended into one long eternity - somehow inside and outside of time simultaneously.
Abruptly, Subject 24601 came to a stop. He opened his eyes.
. . .
Subject 24601 took in the scene quickly. Immediately in front of him, turned away, a stuntie with a sniper's firearm. 24601's eyes flicked to the distance: an ork camp with dead ladz strewn about it.
The brain boyz had prepared him to face the warp - and he had done so!
A sniper? That was nothing.
In one fluid movement, 24601 flicked on his power axe and raised it above his head.
Then he split the stuntie from skull to groin.
Attachments
Orjetax
Member
Steefan Horking was not altogether pleased. The sniper had stopped shooting. None of his boyz had been killed. And yet that damn stuntie must have escaped.
Steefan Horking narrowed his eyes, and scanned the area. Trees. Trees. More trees. And a mostly bionik ork spattered in gore. So much for the sniper then. The ork was unfamiliar. One of Skumbag's boyz maybe? Steefan Horking didn't care much for those lazy gits. But maybe this one broke the mold.
He wheeled forward.
Steefan Horking looked the ork up and down. Real fancy bioniks he was plugged into. Top notch, really.
"What's yer name?"
"What's yer name?"
24601 tried to respond. He had much to tell. And a mission to pursue.
He opened his mouth to provide his designation. But only a wheeze issued. 24601, he tried to say. But again, only a wheeze. 24601, he loudly thought. No words issued.
The wheeled ork tapped 24601's chest. "Squig got yer tongue? What's yer name?"
I'm 24601! I'm on a mission from the brain boyz! They've sent me through the warp! It's all of the utmost importance! But again, only a wheeze. There was some disconnect here, between his thoughts and his mouth.
24601 took a deep breath. He focused.
"Two."
Another breath.
"Four."
Another breath.
The wheeled ork thumped 24601 enthusiastically. "Two-Fer, eh? Good work with that sniper. Were you one of Skumbag's ladz? Don't matter. Yer with me now. Fall in."
The newly-christened Two-Fer opened his mouth to protest. But all too soon, his thoughts flitted away.
. . .
Steefan Horking was feeling unusually magnanimous that evening. Of course, he was also filled with fungus wine. He raised his cup to Bad Dok Sawteef.
"Have to give it to yer, Dok. Really outdid yourself on ol' Two-Fer."
Dok Sawteef's head swam. He was profoundly drunk himself. All the better to operate, of course. Fungus wine made his creative juices run.
"Whuzzat?" He slurred.
"Two-Fer. From Skumbag's mob. 'E's with my lot now." Steefan Horking drank deeply. "Fancy work, Dok."
Dok Sawteef stared blankly. "Right. Fancy work. 'Course thats what I did. I'm the best Dok ever was." And he drank deeply too.
Steefan Horking narrowed his eyes, and scanned the area. Trees. Trees. More trees. And a mostly bionik ork spattered in gore. So much for the sniper then. The ork was unfamiliar. One of Skumbag's boyz maybe? Steefan Horking didn't care much for those lazy gits. But maybe this one broke the mold.
He wheeled forward.
Steefan Horking looked the ork up and down. Real fancy bioniks he was plugged into. Top notch, really.
"What's yer name?"
"What's yer name?"
24601 tried to respond. He had much to tell. And a mission to pursue.
He opened his mouth to provide his designation. But only a wheeze issued. 24601, he tried to say. But again, only a wheeze. 24601, he loudly thought. No words issued.
The wheeled ork tapped 24601's chest. "Squig got yer tongue? What's yer name?"
I'm 24601! I'm on a mission from the brain boyz! They've sent me through the warp! It's all of the utmost importance! But again, only a wheeze. There was some disconnect here, between his thoughts and his mouth.
24601 took a deep breath. He focused.
"Two."
Another breath.
"Four."
Another breath.
The wheeled ork thumped 24601 enthusiastically. "Two-Fer, eh? Good work with that sniper. Were you one of Skumbag's ladz? Don't matter. Yer with me now. Fall in."
The newly-christened Two-Fer opened his mouth to protest. But all too soon, his thoughts flitted away.
. . .
Steefan Horking was feeling unusually magnanimous that evening. Of course, he was also filled with fungus wine. He raised his cup to Bad Dok Sawteef.
"Have to give it to yer, Dok. Really outdid yourself on ol' Two-Fer."
Dok Sawteef's head swam. He was profoundly drunk himself. All the better to operate, of course. Fungus wine made his creative juices run.
"Whuzzat?" He slurred.
"Two-Fer. From Skumbag's mob. 'E's with my lot now." Steefan Horking drank deeply. "Fancy work, Dok."
Dok Sawteef stared blankly. "Right. Fancy work. 'Course thats what I did. I'm the best Dok ever was." And he drank deeply too.
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Orjetax
Member
A long delayed update, and a bit of fluff.
I don't deny Mek-Quake was more than a minor influence . . .
- - - - -
Steefan Horking's boyz got the credit for finding the ancient imperial robot. When humies hastily fled one of their farming settlements, they left behind the rusting hulk -- still lashed to the plow it had been pulling.
Mek Broke Screw snorted disdainfully. Who knows how many generations had passed with this treasure being used for farming! He had seen at a glance that it had once been a far greater tool -- the fittings that once held weaponry was obvious.
More difficult to untangle was the antique war machine's programming. Mek Broke Screw had examined the robot's artificial cortex for weeks, poring over every detail. Eventually, in ways he could not possibly verbalize, he came to understand the machine.
Its programming was a tangled wreck, a degraded hundredth generation copy, patched and re-patched, half-over written and poorly revised. Here was an imperial war robot, its original programming long hidden beneath directives fit for an agricultural tool.
Mek Broke Screw had done what he could. He affixed a new heavy bolter to the robot and recharged its long dormant power fist. He scraped off as much rust as he could before getting bored.
Most important, he dug out what he could of the combat programming and brought it to the fore. Grinning, he turned on his new Tinboy. Its optic sensors flashed to life, and it's audio output began booming:
"GOOD MORNING. THIS ONE IS DESIGNATED PIOUS GREGORY. DID YOU KNOW THAT A LIFE OF HARD WORK AND JUST TOIL IS ITS OWN REWARD. HOW CAN PIOUS GREGORY SERVE."
Mek Broke Screw smiled foully. "Yer gonna kill stunties an' anyone else I tells yer to."
"HE IS EXCITED FOR GAINFUL EMPLOY. HE IS ENTHUSED TO KILL AND MAIM STUNTIES AND WADE WAIST DEEP IN STUNTIE BLOOD AND CORPSES. ALSO WHAT IS A STUNTIE."
The Tinboy clenched and unclenched its power fist experimentally. Then it paused, and fixed its optics meaningfully on Mek Broke Screw.
"THIS BEST JOB PIOUS GREGORY EVER HAD."
I don't deny Mek-Quake was more than a minor influence . . .
- - - - -
Steefan Horking's boyz got the credit for finding the ancient imperial robot. When humies hastily fled one of their farming settlements, they left behind the rusting hulk -- still lashed to the plow it had been pulling.
Mek Broke Screw snorted disdainfully. Who knows how many generations had passed with this treasure being used for farming! He had seen at a glance that it had once been a far greater tool -- the fittings that once held weaponry was obvious.
More difficult to untangle was the antique war machine's programming. Mek Broke Screw had examined the robot's artificial cortex for weeks, poring over every detail. Eventually, in ways he could not possibly verbalize, he came to understand the machine.
Its programming was a tangled wreck, a degraded hundredth generation copy, patched and re-patched, half-over written and poorly revised. Here was an imperial war robot, its original programming long hidden beneath directives fit for an agricultural tool.
Mek Broke Screw had done what he could. He affixed a new heavy bolter to the robot and recharged its long dormant power fist. He scraped off as much rust as he could before getting bored.
Most important, he dug out what he could of the combat programming and brought it to the fore. Grinning, he turned on his new Tinboy. Its optic sensors flashed to life, and it's audio output began booming:
"GOOD MORNING. THIS ONE IS DESIGNATED PIOUS GREGORY. DID YOU KNOW THAT A LIFE OF HARD WORK AND JUST TOIL IS ITS OWN REWARD. HOW CAN PIOUS GREGORY SERVE."
Mek Broke Screw smiled foully. "Yer gonna kill stunties an' anyone else I tells yer to."
"HE IS EXCITED FOR GAINFUL EMPLOY. HE IS ENTHUSED TO KILL AND MAIM STUNTIES AND WADE WAIST DEEP IN STUNTIE BLOOD AND CORPSES. ALSO WHAT IS A STUNTIE."
The Tinboy clenched and unclenched its power fist experimentally. Then it paused, and fixed its optics meaningfully on Mek Broke Screw.
"THIS BEST JOB PIOUS GREGORY EVER HAD."
Attachments
Asslessman
Member
Love everything, the back story and Pious Gregory and the painting is excellent, nice weathering. the 100th copy with patches had me in tears.
daddyorchips
Member
Orjetax":96cz7dnn said:
hahahaha! that made me larf out loud. MOAR
Count Von Bruno
Member
Great to see an update, lovely piece too.
Unfortunately the Mek Quake stuff goes right over my head, but I enjoy your stories nonetheless
Unfortunately the Mek Quake stuff goes right over my head, but I enjoy your stories nonetheless
Orjetax
Member
Count Von Bruno":3q0vaspj said:Great to see an update, lovely piece too.
Unfortunately the Mek Quake stuff goes right over my head, but I enjoy your stories nonetheless
Howdy CVB!
I had one of those "non-hobby periods" and hadn't done a dang thing for three months or so. Coinciding with (American) football season, of which I'm also a big fan, suspiciously enough . . .
But the hobby bug returns as it always does. Lots of good stuff on the forum since I was last on. Have already caught up with some of the blogs I've missed including yours.
daddyorchips
Member
great paint job on one of the best ork minis ever made.
