Vraks Remastered! The Death Korps of Krieg! Animated 40k Lore

(Original)

 

TALES FROM THE TRENCHES: Introduction

 

 

 

 

Welcome and well met.

 

 

A long time ago Arch started up a series called The Seige of Vraks. It was to wind up being forty-three videos long and very well received. About ten videos in, people started posting little snippets of ideas and quotes and all sorts of funny things about the siege.

 

At first, it was observational humor, but then there were some serious stories in there. About that point, I was hooked. I had years before quit writing, mostly because of burnout. The ghostwriting scene had dried up and the work I was getting was disturbing. So I just walked away.

 

For some reason, reading the stories getting posted got me going again.

 

At first, it was just strange stuff, then some humorous stuff, but then I was inspired by the reception of Epsilon-288, the lone Kriegs Guardsman who had a run-in with A Nurgel Space Marine and for some reason, Epsilon-228 became very popular. As the series ground on, I started taking the time to put together a bunch of the stories from the comments and the result was Tales From The Trenches.

 

I slapped it together, posted it on a website, and forgot about it,

 

However, TFTT rekindled in me my love for writing, but no longer would I write for profit grinding out soft-core romance novels. This time, I would write for myself and I would write the story that I had wanted to write. A story about heroes overcoming impossible odds. Alas, I hate prequels. So, before I got to the story, I wanted to write the story about how the hero had become the hero. Then I wound up writing the story about how his friends became heroes.

 

In short, I wound up writing 875k words spread out over five different story arcs, and I have yet to get to the actual story I wanted to write. I have finished three books, and I'm working on four more as of this posting. I have the story worked out for a total of 27 to tell the whole thing, and I plan on finishing all of them. I have not made a single penny on any of it, posting it all for free on Scribble Hub.

 

I am very happy with the result.

 

I had relearned why I started writing in the first place.

 

I have Arch and the Seige of Vraks to thank for that.

 

So when Arch started to remaster the Seige of Vraks series, I off-handedly posted, "You know... I should remaster Tales From The Trenches." And I got a bunch of people telling me to do EXACTLY THAT.

 

Honestly, I thought Epsilon-228 didn't make that much of an impression, but apparently, he did. As someone said, "[TFTT is] as far as I’m concerned an integral part of the Siege of Vraks series." This got me thinking.

 

The truth is, I never would have begun to write my Magna Opus without TSOV. I feel a debt to Arch, so I sent him an email. The deal was, that I'd put my own books series on hold and do that deep rewrite of TFTT that I had meaning to do, on the condition that the one thing that bothered me the first time around was fixed.

 

The story got lost in the spam.

 

Every time I posted, it was hit or miss if it would get enough upvotes to rise to the top of the comments. Often I'd post and it would just disappear, so most people never got to read the whole story.

 

Arch agreed to post and tag the stories, so they wouldn't disappear under thousands of posts like last time, and with that one obstacle out of the way, I dropped everything to redo the series.

 

My goal is to go back, fix a bunch of errors, clean it up, feed it through an editor, take the time to go back through the original videos and see if there were any posts I missed, then collect everything, and release it in forty-three installments. I'll send them to Arch so he can handle making sure they get released with each video on time, and with any luck, you'll see the complete and final definitive Tales From The Trenches.

 

Unfortunately, the original TFTT really didn't start until about halfway through TSOV, so the stories will not quite match up with the videos as they are released. Alas, this is unavoidable, otherwise, there wouldn't be any content for the first half of the series. But since we've all seen the original, I don't think that will matter much. This version might seem a bit out of sequence, but that's because, in the end, this is an Anthology. It isn't just my writing, but the writing of a whole lot of contributors.

 

Some of the original work isn't copied over word for word. Often I cleaned it up to make it work better in a serial format. This is all in fun, so if you are a contributor, just understand I took artistic license for the sake of the narrative flow. If you feel I screwed your story up, feel free to post your correction below.

 

However, I plan on including a link to the new remastered Videos as they come up, as well as a link back to the original. Feel free to take a stroll through the original madness. It takes a few episodes before people REALLY start getting into posting stories in the comments, but honestly, it was a good time. Back before COVID.

 

In my opinion, it was a rare moment of innocence. That last sparking moment before the world took the plunge into madness and everyone lost their minds. When you could post all sorts of insanity and nobody cared. Trump was still in office, the economy was going well, and all those progressive idiots who hate humanity and want everyone dead had not taken control. It was the last moment any semblance of moderation was in control of society.

Then everyone went, "You are with us, or against us. Pick a side."

 

Not unlike the story of Vraks itself.

 

---

 

Come with me, on a trip into the distant age of 2018-2019, back when it was cool to sacrifice.

A time when all a man could ask for...

was a trench to stand in...

and a shovel for beating heretics.

 

---

 

PRESENTING:

TALES FROM THE TRENCHES

(Second Edition)

BY: The Fans

Compiled By: The Eldritch God

 

PS, If you wish to contribute, nothing is stopping you from replying in the comments below.

In fact, it is encouraged. I will periodically troll the comments, and the best ones will be added to the madness that is

 

TALES FROM THE TRENCHES,

 

---

 

 

"All right, all right, ALL RIGHT!

 

BUT!

 

Apart from sanitation, medicine, education, wine, public order, roads, a delivery system for purified fresh water, algae production facilities, planetary defenses, and the commitment of navy patrols to protect the interstellar shipping lanes that allow the flow of wealth to and from Krieg...

 

What EXACTLY has the Imperium done for us LATELY?"

- Krieg Autarch Lord Jörg Aust (Pre-Civil War)

 

 

 

"A soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."

- G.K. Chesterton

 

 

 

"The reflected radiance of the God Emperor lands on those around Him... and it burns."

- Observation by Amin Kagori about Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex

 

 

 

"If you ain't dyin', you ain't tryin'"

- Common Krieg Saying

 

 

 

"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement."

— Final litany of the Litany of Sacrifice, recited by Krieg Korpsmen when entering battle

 

---

 

===PROLOGUE===

 

The war on Isin had slowed down.

 

It was rare, but from time to time the battle waned on a given front while things heated up elsewhere. Tonight, that slowdown was the western front.

 

A group of Krieg guardsmen were off duty. The sky had cleared up and you could see the stars. In fact, it had been dry for several days now. The air was cold making it somewhat less than pleasant to be standing around, so they gathered about a low fire.

 

As they munched on their MREs the topic turned around to childhood. This eventually led to them talking about their favorite scary stories.

 

Guardsman Gamma-7365 looked around, "I have a tale of pure horror." The others looked at him. One gestured for him to tell it. The guardsman took his flashlight and shined it up under his chin, "Have you ever heard the story of... Theta-1?"

 

A few shuddered, but most had not heard the story. The ones in the know kept quiet as Gamma-7365 continued, "Theta-1 was a guardsman so successful, he never failed. Not only that, but not once did he get wounded."

 

"Eventually, he lived so long, that they made him the leader of his regiment where he led from the front with distinction. That is when he became Theta-1." Unnoticed by all, the sergeant quietly slipped out of the firelight.

 

Gamma-7365 paused for effect. The other guardsmen didn't seem that impressed with the story so far, but still, he continued, "He fought in over four wars before finally... he died."

 

He paused again, long enough for those listening to shrug or nod with approval.

 

Abruptly Gamma-7365 jumped up and exclaimed, "OF OLD AGE!"

 

The group recoiled!

 

Gamma-7365 started to lurch about, swaying in close to members of the group, "He passed on PEACEFULLY!" One of the recruits recoiled in disgust!

 

He swung around to get in close to another, "IN HIS SLEEP!" He cried! This caused the new guy to let out a sharp yelp!

 

Gamma-7365 straightened up and slowly went back to sit down. He leaned in close to the fire, "He died at the start of this very war over 12 years ago.

 

It is said the God-Emperor rejected him because of his lack of sacrifice and so his very soul, happy and content, haunts these very trenches.

 

"Late at night, he seeks out lone guardsmen who fall asleep on duty..."

 

"so he can smile at them..."

 

"and tuck."

 

"THEM."

 

"IN."

 

From the shadows, an eerie voice was heard. It spoke in a moan, "I... am so..."

 

Then from out of the shadows jumped the sergeant without his gas mask on! He had a flashlight pointed up at his mouth and was smiling as wide as he could. He staggered into the middle of the gathering shouting, "HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY!"

 

The new recruits all jumped out of their skins, one even going so far as to dive for cover, "AH! IT'S THETA-1!" He shouted before everyone calmed down and had a big laugh.

 

As they gathered around the fire again, the veterans making fun of the fresh meat, a figure stepped into the firelight. The glint off his cybernetic replacements made it clear this could only be one man.

 

Alpha-1.

 

The top dog. The big cheese. Numero Uno. The Big Man himself. He was famous (or infamous) for getting down in the trenches with his men. He didn't ask them to endure anything he himself would not.

 

Rumor had it he was more machine than man. Rumor had it he was over two hundred years old. Rumor had it he once killed an Ork by glaring at it so hard it had a heart attack and died.

 

 

He was a legit badass.

 

 

He had long ago earned the unwavering respect of his men, so when they noticed his presence, they all went silent. As they began to stand at attention, Alpha-1 held out a mechanical hand, motioning for them to remain seated.

 

He said nothing, just watching the men gathered around the fire. His eyes flitted from gas mask to gas mask, looking for weaknesses, and considering how to encourage their strengths.

 

He walked over to a bench the men had pulled up to the fire and pointedly looked where the sergeant was seated. The sergeant got the message and moved over to give Alpha-1 some room.

 

Alpha-1 sat down and warmed his hands by the fire, which seemed like an odd gesture, considering that both his arms had been replaced with cybernetics at some point.

 

The men just sat there in awkward silence, not quite knowing what to do. The only sound was the crackling fire as they burned what little vegetation they could find on this chaos-accursed planet.

 

"So..." The silence was broken when Alpha-1 finally spoke, "You like ghost stories?"

 

The men all looked at each other, a few nodded, not quite knowing where this was going.

 

"I got a ghost story for you." He mentioned, in an off-handed way.

 

Alpha-1 hunched forward to get closer to the fire, "It happened on the planet of Vraks." He picked up a long piece of reclaimed wood from a smashed shipping crate. He stopped talking as he poked the fire to turn over the coals. This act forced the flames to die down. With the fire burning lower, everyone had to pull in just a little bit closer, which was good, because Alpha-1 spoke in a voice that could scarcely be heard over the crackling flames, "Ever heard the story of..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Epsilon-228?"

 

---

 

*A single gunshot rings out*
"Seems someone just executed someone for cowardice."

"Probably the Commissar."

"Well, yeah who else would execute someone for cowardice?"

"No, I mean the Commissar was executed for cowardice."

"Uhhhh..."

...

An average guardsman sees a dead commissar: "Keep fighting he might be faking it."

A Krieg guardsman sees a dead commissar: "Finally! We no longer have to fight with one arm tied behind our backs!, what with nobody tugging on our leash anymore!" Then double taps the commissar just to make sure he properly sacrificed.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield.

A Chaos Sniper radios to his commander, "Good news! I just threw this regiment of corpse worshipers into disarray!"

The Commander responds, "How did you do that?"

With pride in his voice, the sniper responds, "I just bullseye'd their commissar!"

"YOU FOOL! YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL!"

 

---

 

The Administratum representative sat across from the group of representatives sent to negotiate Krieg's return to the imperium, "Now, we will need to see a show of intention. However, we are not without mercy. To start, we require you to provide up with a single regiment."

 

The first officer responds, "Single? What shall we do with the other nineteen?"

 

The representative chokes for a second, cleared his throat, then quickly shifted his position, "Well, that's just a sample. To ah... to see the quality of your troops. Of course we need more than just ONE regiment." He cleared his throat and rubbed his upper lip in an attempt to hide his excitement. This was a negotiation, after all. best not to tip one's hand, "If you only have twenty to start, that's... that's fine."

 

The officer's assistant started to mumble as he took notes, "The imperium is requesting an additional twenty regiments.

 

The head officer nodded to his subordinate, "So forty in total."

 

The Administratum representative started to blink rapidly, "Forty?"

 

The logistics officer on the end frowned. Apparently his hearing wasn't that good, after his years in an artillery unit, "You need another forty? Well, it'll be tight, but before your ship leaves orbit, we'll have another forty ready."

 

The officer's assistant nodded and mumbled as he updated his notes, "Sixty... regiments... in total." He looked up with a nod.

 

The head officer nodded as well, "Now we're talking." He turned back to the administratum representative, "Of course, we demand that those sixty regiments be sent to the most dangerous and lethal battlefields in the galaxy."

 

The representative opened his mouth, but no words came out. he closed his mouth, swallowed, and took a few moments to compose himself before finally speaking, "I..."

 

The Krieg representatives waited patiently for a response.

 

"I need to use the bathroom." The Administratum agent proceeded to stand up and hurry away while taking a stack of folders with him to strategically hide his boner.

 

The Krieg officers all looked at each other with puzzled expressions on their gasmasks.

 

How does one look puzzled while wearing a gasmask?

 

A krieg solider can.

 

---

 

An Astartes finds himself waiting for orders from the inquisitor and strikes up a conversation with a quartermaster, "You know, it takes decades of training, meditation, conditioning, and hardship to produce a single battle brother. Each one is a pinnacle of perfection. Each chapter is one thousand of the finest warriors mankind can produce. We are capable of facing the most brutal and horrible terrors the galaxy can conjure. Our battle honors span millennia. Each Astarte is worth a thousand times his number." There is a pause as he notices the quartermaster scribbling in a notebook, "What ... are you writing?"

 

The quartermaster doesn't look up, "Oh, just running some numbers." He tapped his pen against the side of his gasmask lens while he mentally reviewed his figures, "Accounting for nominal casualty rates and allowing for shortages, Krieg produces enough troops and material to destroy your chapter once every 96 hours." He glanced up at the Astartes, "Nice armor you got there. Paint that yourself?