waaagh-and-order

[waaagh-and-order]

WAAAGH! & Order #7 Investigation Part 2.

Krumpchop leaned against the wall while Voss spoke with the beggar. The man had to be ex-Guard—shirt half-charred, dog tags still hanging around his neck. And from the looks of it, begging in the slums of the hive hadn’t gone well. He’d probably have stood at attention and saluted—if he’d had both legs.

“Yeah, sir,” the veteran rasped. “Been hearin’ rumblings. Not on the level. Never the habs. Always near waste extraction—where people go missin’. Days. Weeks, sometimes.”

Voss nodded. “That lines up with what we’ve heard.” He dropped a few thrones into the old soldier’s bowl and turned to leave.

But Krumpchop wasn’t about to be outdone.

“Hol’ up, boss,” he called out.

The ork stepped forward, looking down at the veteran with what might have been—by Ork standards—empathy.

“Gonna give ya an En-Eff-Teef.” He reached into his own mouth with one oversized green hand and started yanking on one of his larger teeth.

“Glhhl… ghlghs… Gaaah—there!” He popped it free with a wet crack and dropped it in the bowl.

“Dat’s a gen-you-ein, Non-Fungus-Toof,” he said proudly.

“Probably worth a lotta fungus beer—if ya spend it ‘fore it sprouts.”

With that, Krumpchop turned and walked off, looking rather pleased with himself.

“You just gave a homeless amputee a biological timebomb.”

With Krumpchop grinning--

“Yeah. Wiv interest.”

[waaagh-and-order]

Waaagh & Order #6 - The investigation begins.

"Look," Voss said, "we're not here about you, or your counterfeit lho sticks. We're here about the disappearances." He folded his arms, expression all granite and judgment.

"Do I have to ask again… or should I let my scary friend do the talking?"

"He’s not that scary… for a greenskin," the teen ganger muttered.

"Why fank yer!" Krumpchop beamed. "I gets me looks from me mum's side. Me muscles from me dad."

Voss didn't even blink. "You're spawned from fungus."

"Yeh. And me mum was a right fetchin’ toadstool, fank you very much."

Voss pinched the bridge of his nose. "Every day… the Emperor tests me."

[waaagh-and-order]

W&O #5 - Whats in a drink?

"I don't much hate mornin's," Krumpchop grunted, scratching his belly. "Jes' wish I could skip 'em. But you lot don't like da smell o' my fungus beer."

Voss sighed, already pulling out his dataslate. "Krumpchop, it made three Magos Biologis pass out from the smell."

"Good stuff, innit?"

"It corroded the floor plating."

"Builds character."

"It made the containers rust from the inside out."

"Means it's workin'."

"It’s explosive."

"Keeps ya awake!"

"We gave it to the Munitorum. They're trying to weaponize it."

Krumpchop paused, genuinely impressed. "Good thinkin's, you humie gitz have."

[waaagh-and-order]

W&O - #4 What's In a Name

"One last thing, Krumpchop," the Arbites Provost said, rubbing his temples as if already regretting this conversation. "When you’re making your reports to the servitor, your partner's name is Voss."

Krumpchop looked puzzled—about as puzzled as an Ork can look.

"Dats wot I sayz. Boss."

The Provost sighed. "No, Voss."

"Boss."

"Voss."

"Boss."

"V-oh-ss." The Provost enunciated slowly.

Krumpchop jabbed a massive green finger at him indignantly. "B-oh-ss. Dat’s wot I’m sayin’! Youz tryna confuze me or sumfink?"

[waaagh-and-order]

W&O - #3 The investigation Begins

Voss and Krumpchop stood in the information center of the Arbites station, the air thick with the scent of recaf, oil, and bureaucracy.

The Marshall leaned over the data-slate, his voice heavy with authority. "We've had reports of organ and limb theft in the lower hives. The patterns match what we know about this Heretek cult." He glanced between them. "Voss, uh… Krumpchop… you are tasked with putting an end to this group."

A long, awkward pause.

"However, we need at least one alive for interrogation."

Krumpchop squinted. "Wot if dey don’t wanna come?"

Voss took a slow sip of his recaf. "We’ll persuade them."

Krumpchop grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Deff iz persuasive..."

[waaagh-and-order]

WAAAGH! & Order #2 - What is art?

“Yer cog-boy said me shootah iz a marv… mareveli… a work wot is art!” Krumpchop announced proudly as they walked down the grimy hive city street.

It was easy enough to move—people had a natural survival instinct that told them to avoid the massive, heavily armed Freebooter Ork.

Voss, walking beside him, took a long sip of his recaf. “I believe he said it defied any known laws of reason and science.” His voice was flat, weary.

“Yeah, dat’s wot art iz.”

Voss opened his mouth to argue. “…Uh.”

He stopped. Thought about it.

Then took another long sip.

He wasn’t awake enough to argue that logic. Not on one cup.

[waaagh-and-order]

WAAAGH! & Order #1 - DUN DUN!

"In dis team, da people are investigated by two separate, yet equally important gitz: Voss, an Arbites wot investigates crime, and Krumpchop, an Ork Freebooter wot likes krumpin’ gitz. Dis is their story—DUN DUN."

Voss paused mid-step, brow furrowing. “Who the hell are you talking to?”

Krumpchop grinned wide, lifting up a battered, jury-rigged servo-skull with a poorly painted checkerboard pattern and a tiny pirate hat.

“Da Forth Wall!” he declared. “It’s wot I named me servo-skull!”