Lemming Von Huffledink and the Chaos Brigade

 

Lemming Von Huffledink and the Incidentally Heroic Chaos

The dim, grimdark expanse of space once again proved that bureaucracy is alive and thriving, even amidst the never-ending war. As the newly self-appointed Rogue Trader (because reading the instruction manual is for heretics), I, Myles Von Huffledink, decided that our crew needed adventure—or possibly therapy. With a confident finger jabbed at the nearest ominous symbol on the star chart, I declared, "What's this? Let's go there." The starship’s automated response was less inspiring: "Unidentified void ship. Intercept initiated."

Cue Dave's panicked shout: "Abort intercept! ABORT INTERCEPT!" while Craig's more practical approach was to scream, "Man the guns! Prepare to repel boarders!" And, like clockwork, I innocently replied, "It’s not my fault."

After narrowly avoiding a high-speed introduction to the afterlife, the crew gently suggested we tackle something less apocalyptic for our first mission. I found a planet with a starport. “Starport equals market equals shopping,” Craig announced gleefully.

“No shopping,” I countered.

“I quit,” Craig replied immediately.

To which I calmly responded, “Fine, number one on our to-do list: replace Craig.” Thankfully, our ship’s Master-at-Arms was efficient. “Release the prisoner,” he commanded, and moments later, a newer, marginally fresher Craig joined the crew—equally irritating but slightly less defiant.

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The Shuttle That Couldn’t

Our descent to the starport was a study in how not to land a shuttle. Anti-air fire lit up the sky, and Craig was already halfway out of his seat when I yelled, “Deploy chaff! Launch flares! Get us on the ground!” By some miracle—or possibly a glitch in the targeting system—we survived, slamming down on Pad 3 like a sack of grox dung.

We were greeted by a squad of guardsmen who immediately questioned our presence. "Don’t you know who I am?" I bellowed, slipping into character as Lemming Von Huffledink, scion of an illustrious Rogue Trader lineage.

“Forgive me, my lord,” their sergeant grovelled. “We didn’t recognize you.”

The sergeant explained the local rebellion situation, and I reassured him with my finest false praise: "You’re doing a stellar job. I’ll sing your praises to the governor." Just as I finished my condescending pat on the metaphorical head, Zaph and his Psyker sidekick arrived with their usual impeccable timing.

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Ambush 101: Laser Bolts and Demons

As we advanced across the starport, rebels emerged from behind shuttles, yelling "AMBUSH!" and showering us with laser fire. Craig took the opportunity to flank the enemy (read: disappear to the other side of the battlefield), while I heroically shot a guardsman in the back. “Why aren’t the rest of you doing anything?” I demanded as the remaining guardsmen edged toward the nearest exit.

Zaph sniped a rebel, the Psyker did some psychedelic light show, and Craig eventually reappeared just in time to help us mop up. Then, because the universe hates us, the Psyker accidentally tore a hole in reality, summoning a Chaos demon.

“WTF?!” we collectively exclaimed.

After a chaotic battle that involved fire, screaming, and Craig maybe saving the day (the warp corrupted the video evidence, so there’s no proof), we looted the bodies, questioned the sole surviving guardsman, and marched toward the city.

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Enter the Tech-Priest

On the way, we encountered a lone Tech-Priest obliterating heretics with an exploding machine. Impressed by his practical application of firepower, we kicked out one of our gunners and invited him to join the crew.

“He has grenades,” Craig noted approvingly.

“Exactly why we should confiscate them immediately,” Dave countered.

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Righteous Looting in the Emperor’s Name

Our first stop in the city involved a frenzied looting spree across rooftops and elevators. “It’s for the Emperor,” I assured the team as we stuffed our packs with gear of dubious legality.

Finally, we encountered rebels attempting to override defense turrets. They failed spectacularly, activating the turrets, which shredded them into confetti. The Tech-Priest took the opportunity to prove his worth by securing the turrets for us just as 15 more rebels arrived. It was a bloodbath. We applauded.

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Stairway to Betrayal

The guardsman led us to the site of his patrol’s ambush. After his third round of evasive answers, I suggested shooting him. Democracy prevailed, and we spared him—right before rebels attacked us again. The guardsman, bless his incompetent soul, was promptly stabbed.

The battle ended with Craig, once again, being suspiciously helpful. “Could we have been wrong about Craig all these years?” I mused.

Dave, ever the grudge-holder, replied, “We will never forget the gold dragon. No amount of heroics will redeem you, Craig.”

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The Verdict

In summary, we survived—barely. Craig is still Craig, the Tech-Priest has grenades (God help us), and I remain the only thing standing between this team and utter chaos. Just another night in the dim, dark future where there is only war… and the occasional loot-fueled shopping spree.

From Goats to Grimdark: Our First Steps in 40k

 

Grimdark Shenanigans: Our First Foray into Warhammer 40k

As the saying goes, "All good things must come to an end," so we bid farewell to our Enshrouded game (except for Dave, who’s contractually obligated to milk the goats daily) and took a warp jump into the far-flung, grimdark universe of Warhammer 40k. It’s a place where there is only war, and conveniently, also suitable character classes for all of us.

Meet the Misfit Mercenaries:

• Dave: A "Sister of Battle" soldier. Yes, he chose to roleplay as a pious, armor-clad nun with a gun. As Dave put it, "Who doesn’t want to be a self-righteous zealot?"
• Zaph: The operative, a stealthy sniper who’s only in the room for cleanup. His strategy: "Shoot, scoot, and pretend you’re invisible."
• Myles: Naturally, the officer. This suits his love for giving orders, though our compliance is… inconsistent. "When will you lot learn that my plans are flawless?"
• Craig: The warrior, or as we call him, "Straight-Line Craig." If there were a class that didn’t require reading text or thinking about geometry, he’d have taken it.
• Two NPCs: A Psyker (a.k.a. witch) who can throw lightning, rupture the warp, and kill us all—and a second warrior to set a behavioral example for Craig. Spoiler: It didn’t work.

And So It Begins

We started aboard the voidship of Rogue Trader Theodora von Valancius. Myles’s character is distantly related to the von Valancius Dynasty, which made the rest of us his "trusty sidekicks," plus Craig. (To clarify, Craig is his own category.)

Theodora’s opening act? Summoning us for a test to prove our worth. Before we could bungle that, the peons on the lower decks staged a mutiny, the servitors went berserk, and chaos erupted. Typical Tuesday.

Betrayal and a Smidge of Flamethrower Justice

On orders to check on the navigator, we followed the ship’s Master of Whispers—a shifty sort who promptly stabbed us in the back, literally. He knocked us unconscious and dragged Myles off to the chamber of the Writ of Trade (the holy McGuffin of Rogue Traders). Myles, true to form, woke up mid-abduction, dubbed him "Skanky Pond Scum," and refused to cooperate. Luckily, the servitor lock mechanism recognized that Myles was being threatened. Cue flamethrowers and turrets annihilating the heretics… except the Master of Whispers, who legged it.

Assemble the Dysfunctional Avengers

With Myles rescued, our merry band regrouped and gained some reinforcements. Enter the Psyker and Craig’s new favorite toy—a chainsword. We slaughtered our way toward the navigator, who was hiding behind an energy shield. Surprise, the twisty Master of Whispers escaped again while we looted bodies and Dave performed a heroic solo act that left the rest of us scrambling to catch up. (Dave, the Emperor protects; but maybe wait for backup next time.)

Bridge Over Troubled Fire

At one point, we faced an infernal bridge through flames where our choice was "make a deal with the devil" or "burn." Myles opted for dogmatic zealotry, yelled, "The Emperor protects!" and dragged us all through the fire. We emerged singed but alive, while our NPC entourage became crispy critters. Rest in ashes, redshirts.

Detective Work (But Not Too Much)

After endless firefights and more straight-line Craig charges that hit precisely nothing, we found Theodora. Alas, she was dead, riddled with bolter fire. We poked around for clues but not too hard—our priorities were now firmly aligned with ascending to the Rogue Tradership. The Psyker failed to psychically read a corpse but did manage to get visions from some broken glass. Useless. We found a cryptic document detailing Theodora’s mission to an unknown destination. Cue ominous foreshadowing.

Climax of Chaos (and Craig)

The grand finale occurred on the bridge. The Whisperer was mid-ritual, sacrificing henchmen to summon a Chaos demon. Myles immediately declared we’d fight to the death, but Englebert Humpledink (a rival Psyker) decided to "help." Naturally, this resulted in him transforming into a Chaos demon. Because of course it did.

The fight was epic and chaotic:

• Myles gave commands, most of which we ignored.
• Dave went full Rambo, slaying three henchmen in quick succession.
• Craig charged straight into… thin air, missing spectacularly. Again, warp logic or Craig logic?
• Zaph and the Psyker took down the demon’s defenses.

After much bleeding and screaming, the demon chowed down on a henchman to regenerate. Myles, perched on the upper platform, assessed the dire situation below. The demon was regaining strength rapidly, feeding off the remaining henchman, and Craig’s last charge had connected with precisely nothing—again. Realizing the window to act was shrinking, Myles maneuvered to the edge of the platform, took careful aim, and fired, taking out the final henchman just before the demon could feast.

"All clear! Craig, distract the demon.," he quipped with a self-satisfied grin, lowering his weapon. Below, Craig grumbled audibly but reluctantly shifted focus to the Chaos demon, muttering, "Distract it? I’m not a chew toy!." The rest of us wisely opted to keep our distance, offering support from as far away as possible.

Finally, we took down Demon Englebert. Myles plopped himself on the Rogue Trader throne, ordered us to "get this ship back to reality," and declared victory.

Post-Battle Wrap-Up: A Litany of Woes

As the session ended, we received grim reports about the state of the ship:

• The navigator needs replacing. Apparently, they don’t grow on trees.
• The engineer is dead.
• The tech crew is dead.
• Craig remains alive.

Myles, as the new Rogue Trader, endured a 15-minute debrief that involved more talking than shooting. It was well past midnight, and no one could feel their legs. But hey, the prologue was complete, and victory… sort of… was ours.

Closing Thoughts

If this is the prologue, we’re doomed. But at least we’ll die heroically—or in Craig’s case, hilariously—in the grimdark future where there is only war. See you next session, warp willing.