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BALDER - Vol.1 (PDF) by Elite-Pirate
Mature content
BALDER - Vol.1 (PDF) :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 11 8
This is what happens when you cronch by Elite-Pirate This is what happens when you cronch :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 3 22 Two Knights One Frontpage by Elite-Pirate Two Knights One Frontpage :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 11 9 On Wings of Steel by Elite-Pirate
Mature content
On Wings of Steel :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 19 15
Diving for pearls, are we by Elite-Pirate
Mature content
Diving for pearls, are we :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 8 3
Nauseatingly End-Timely by Elite-Pirate Nauseatingly End-Timely :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 2 4
Mature content
Throne Agent, V.VI-2 :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 3 14
Literature
Throne Agent, V.VI-1
VI
ILLUMINATION
1
The Valkyrie
Moerchen had few duties aboard the Valkyrie which demanded his attention, and so much of his time was spent in the vessel's chapel.
Perched over the bridge, the "chapel" was a long chamber with vaulted ceilings reaching several stories up, which combined with the rest of its extreme proportions to bring it closer in the Chaplain's eyes to a cathedral built for a hive's upper class than any humble station of faith for pressed crewmen… not that the impressed portion of the crew was permitted anywhere near the chapel.
Moerchen had kept his distance from those officers who appeared for confessions, and let the Ministorum-provided preachers and confessors work the ship's ruling class without the interference of a Space Marine. With Guenther's Kill-team keeping to themselves on the Grim Vigil, there were few who specifically needed him for spiritual matters. In a sense, Moerchen had made a monk of himself, s
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Ragged Edges: Mind War by Elite-Pirate Ragged Edges: Mind War :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 6 6
Literature
Throne Agent, V.V-3
V
REBIRTH
3
The Angrboedha
Sanity, Losa decided, was a rare commodity.
One prominent memory of her youth was asking the Master if he was sane; the response had been a sudden and booming laugh. Similarly, the Traitor Marine could be heard to produce such noises as he roamed the halls of the Angrboedha, waiting for the Master to discuss their future associations.
Losa had never dared ask Magos Sevanar, but knowing what Lunelle Sevanar had become was indication enough that no question needed to be asked. From what word had reached Losa about Sevanar's captive and how much time the Magos was spending with him, there could be little doubt his own sanity was hanging by a thread, at best.
The lift trembled, and the doors opened to the enginarium.
Losa straightened the edge of her jacket, and strode off the lift.
The Death Korps had many sacred traditions for the position of Quartermaster. The Death Korps valued its Quartermasters as mascots and icons,
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Literature
Throne Agent, V.V-2
V
REBIRTH
2
Solomon, Markayn Marches
Lamortes had a long, interesting history with the hives of Solomon. In the early years of his work as a fledgling Tech-Priest, he had been given numerous posts among the local nobility as a menial – as his reputation and experience grew, he began to gain favor among the houses. After the dramatic end of his tenure on Mars, he had known no better than to return to contract himself out to the nobility.
All he could do as he sat at the public tram terminal was reflect on his youth, and smile. Home sweet home, he thought, even if home was a smoke-blanketed decaying forest of old spires.
The Magos heard his vox ping, and took it out. "Max," he plainly said into the device.
"Everything fine? Team's repositioning, couldn't get a good look at you."
Commissar Audes. After the Lady and Freia's kidnapping on Fenksworld, Lamortes and Moerchen had feigned official Inquisitorial orders to relegate Audes and what remained of
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Literature
Throne Agent, V.V-1
V
REBIRTH
1
The Angrboedha
When Losa entered, she found the Master reclined in his throne and surrounded by his holoscreen dome. One screen was from a hull-mounted pict recorder, magnified and focused to watch a meteor shower impacting the nearby planetoid; another holoscreen looked over a hangar, where a squad of crewmen patrolled the narrow spaces between the racks of stored Hell Blades.
When Losa stepped up to the outer ring around the Master's throne, several screens flashed and changed to blurry human faces, all of them staring at her.
"What is it?" the Master spoke, his voice bounding off the walls.
"I just finished with my inspection. I heard that the Marine's vessel was spotted on the outskirts of the system…"
One of the screens directly in front of Vok went dark, and then began to flash a string of text.
Losa tilted her head and slowly, cautiously approached. "What is-"
"A conversation which I was not meant to see." Another screen turned
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Ragged Edges: KT Files - Raege by Elite-Pirate Ragged Edges: KT Files - Raege :iconelite-pirate:Elite-Pirate 8 23
Literature
Throne Agent, V.IV-3
IV
VERITAS
3
The Library of Knowing, Fenksworld
The cost of taking Magos Ordinatos Xiatin was, ultimately, too high – the Tech-Priest was found to know nothing at all about where to hunt down Vok, and so was executed for his blasphemy and treachery with nothing gained from his interrogation. For the Lady and Freia, there was thusly only one place left to find any information, and that was in Yrtzen Vok's past.
Fenksworld, as much as it was a bed of cult-activity, housed one spectacularly important facility: the Library of Knowing, run by the governing House Vaahkon, where such information was held that Fenksworld got its reputation. The Decatalogues of the nine worlds of Prol were known to hold all the Administratum's vast quantities of data on the sector's administrative history, but a search of the Prol archives for anything relevant about Yrtzen Vok would have taken months, if not years.
Fenksworld, however… Fenksworld answered all questions
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Literature
Throne Agent, V.IV-2
IV
VERITAS
2
Fenksworld, Josian Reach
A popular joke among Scintilla's nobility was that Fenksworld answered all questions. The implications were dubious, and the Lady Inquisitor had assigned more than a few observation warrants to equally questionable figures for its citation.
The Lady found herself reminded of the saying as Commissar Audes took a seat across from her, his gleaming new augmetic legs lightly whirring. The Lady had sought more answers to more questions on Fenksworld than Freia thought, and upon coming to Fenksworld, she discovered they could be answered.
"I suppose you'll want to skip the formalities," Audes said.
The Lady shook her head. "No need. I have plenty of time… as do you, I imagine."
"Plenty of time wasted before it even comes." Audes shifted in his seat. "Though, I got permission from the Commissariat to execute the idiot who made my regiment a human mine-sweep. That's today, so I do have to leave at some point."
"What happene
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Literature
Throne Agent, V.IV-1
IV
VERITAS
1
Canopus, Josian Reach
The lady in red appeared again. She took him up in her arms, making him giggle as she rocked him back and forth, before she began to sing to him again. For a few moments he closed his eyes and enjoyed the cool, loving caress of her cold gray hands and the sweet tune of lullaby.
Then the door swung open. The lady in red howled, immediately shoving him back into the cradle before turning to some unseen foe and charging towards the door. The wet snap of broken bone rang against the walls as more shouts burst out; the lady in red grunted and snarled and screamed, and for a moment he could see her fighting with something, struggling, until she was pulled away, still screaming and crying and flailing.
Then the skull-face stared down at him, and a pair of black hands shrouded the world in shadows as the lady in red cried out-
"Heidrich!"
He awoke.
"Finally," came Isnic's throaty growl.
Heidrich's blurry eyes registered the figure
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Critiques


As promised, I give you critique. This is a really handsome picture. The color can be described as lush in spite of a fairly simple pal...

by TD-Vice

So for starters, this is a piece that seriously needs to be viewed at max-resolution - for one because size-compression creates horrifi...

by TD-Vice

Right. Gonna just try out this whole "Critique" feature here, as I'm strapped now for writing anything else. Anyway, have I ever told y...

Which do you think is the most overused fiction genre? 

32%
17 deviants said Urban fantasy (my eyes may have just started hemorrhaging)
26%
14 deviants said High fantasy
19%
10 deviants said Post-apocalyptic
6%
3 deviants said Low fantasy
6%
3 deviants said Sci-fi
6%
3 deviants said Space opera
6%
3 deviants said Alternate History

Activity


You Can (Not) Go Back.

Journal Entry: Tue Dec 13, 2016, 5:22 PM


I want to tell you a story.


I assure you, I've been waiting until I felt I was in a reliable position to say this.

Hopefully this background is still palatable to you, because it's starting to be an eyesore to me after all these years.

Now, bear with me. It will take a while to get there, but there will be an ending to this... if you catch my drift.

First of all: hi. I'm Staffen. Hello there. I hope you are well, wherever you are and whoever you are.

I started writing Ragged Edges when I was, I think, just 14 or 15 years old. The majority of the writing was done when I was between 15 and 16. My little project started as a method of validating myself to a group of people who I had come to admire -- people who I wanted to consider me, perhaps, valuable. I pretended I was older at first, because I had seen how positively obnoxious people in my age-group were (in retrospect, I was little different back then) and how that made them ill-received. I was scared of rejection. I wanted to be able to point to this little project of mine later as a way of saying, "Look at me! Look at what I did when I was only this old!"

Chapter 17 of Ragged Edges was released in March of 2011; 5 years, 4 months and 4 days ago. Since that date -- without fail -- I have received at least one inquiry per month, asking: "When is the next chapter coming?"

Some days, it was only one person asking. Other days, a group of enthused friends would all ask me at once. It might have been the same person a few times or it might have been an entire new crowd of people. Sometimes the question is asked in private correspondence; other times they ask openly in my gallery comments, on my profile comments, or on the comments of previous chapters.

At first I was baffled. I was working on other projects at the time... projects which I considered a million times better. Things weren't going well for me and I took the attention that Ragged Edges received very personally - very cynically. Indeed, things weren't going well for a lot of people around me: 2011 was, if I recall correctly, the final year that many of the people who all came together to support me in my writing ever talked to each-other on friendly terms. I hated that I couldn't seem to outdo something I wrote as an pretentious, elitist brat. Outside of my writing it felt as if everyone around me was letting me down at every corner. I was letting myself down. My frustration mounted. The clash of my old values and expanding ideals and shifting outlook created a dissonance with my raison d'être.

Or perhaps that wasn't how it happened at all. Memory is fickle. It would be convenient if things were that simple, that one-sided, wouldn't it? For the most part I don't think it really matters. I was sick, I realized later. Sick I was and sick I've been.

Around 2013 I realized there was a peculiar sensation which set in whenever I sat down and tried to write. I can't tell if it was a side-effect of some medicine, or if it was the accumulation of the worries and the do's-and-do-not's which had inevitably piled up since I began in 2009. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it was a lack of practice. That feeling of powerlessness and immobility was a terrifying sensation to me. Whether it was for work or for leisure, writing became impossible. And I don't mean it was "boring". I mean that the moment I had a fancy to write it was gone by the time I was at the keyboard. When ideas did linger the only words which came to mind to express such thoughts were rendered as a pressing static which enveloped my brain. White noise was the only thing which greeted me as I tried to go through the old motions of creation, as I had years ago.

So I stopped, almost completely and totally. I thought that I could just recuperate by making the long break I was already taking official. But to me, to the person who has said previously that, "Writing is not my passion - it is who I am", the incapacity to write -- to be -- only weighed heavier and heavier as time went by.

2015 was the worst year I think I've been through. I was in the hospital for a couple weeks midway through that summer. In that time several projects fell apart in my absence; projects I had pushed myself into working with others on in a vain hope to get back on track. When I got back out everyone in my circle was understanding, and gave no suggestion of disappointment, but I saw it everywhere around me. I was deeply ashamed of how the last few years had gone. It felt as if I had accomplished nothing.

Then, earlier this year one long-time friend (who beta-read RE as I produced it) came to me and told me a story of his own. While searching for new players to join his Only War campaign, he and another of our friends (who had also been one of my oldest beta-readers) had encountered a peculiar person on the sup/tg/ IRC. This individual, he thought himself very clever in making less-than-subtle references to a certain commissar and her band of misfits. When my friends picked up on these they pressed him for details. My name came up.

Then my friend told me a similar story of another individual who explained that Ragged Edges had been much of the reason for his long-standing enthusiasm for 40K. Another story came up of a casual conversation about Raege they happened to espy in an IRC channel. And, while not entirely related, I had an opportunity to speak to yet another stranger who'd enjoyed my writing on Discord earlier this year. As ever I was somewhat embarrassed, brusque and more than a little bewildered to hear anyone compliment me the way that gentleman did. A few years ago I would have regarded the experience very cynically. But I think I've finally come to realize what it was which drives people to ask after me as they do. I was a fool to have taken so long to understand.

My friend came to a very simple therapeutic conclusion: I must complete Ragged Edges. I protested at first that too much had changed: too much time had passed and the difference in style was too stark. My friend would not hear it. To him, he said, much of the value in reading RE had come from watching me grow as a writer with every chapter. And I hate to admit that he was right in his assessment. It was never a matter of time's passage since it was already to painfully obvious across the entirety of Ragged Edges, and of Throne Agent, and of any of my more "serious" (dumped) projects for that matter.

I messaged Mr-Culexus earlier this year to declare my intention to put a wrap to things. I gave him my thanks for the big role he played in my adolescence, and I was happy to receive his blessings in return. So it is that an ending will come, soon.

I want to warn you: it has been five years, and I've thrown out the original draft I was working on for the final chapters. There will most likely be a distinct Rebuild vibe to this -- take from that statement what you will. It might be a little jarring; we might lose a foot, or an arm, or a few faces along the way. I keep having to scratch my head and shuffle through piles of badly-organized notes to remember who everyone is, what's happening, what the sub-plots are. I never exactly kept a lot of notes to begin with anyway. The end-product will also likely look a lot different, since I can no longer stomach looking at dA's method of parsing prose. If you read Balder you might have noticed dA's fucking hideous compared to reading out of a PDF. The biggest problem of all is that I'm honestly sick of 40K in-general. Haven't liked where it's been going for years, haven't liked the way the lore has changed, and have been disappointed with it. The 40K which I depict in Ragged Edges might not be precisely identical to the 40K any of you newcomers out there are probably used to seeing. Or maybe I'm over-exaggerating the changes. That said I'm in a much better place than I was two years ago, and over the last few months I've been preparing to get back to work on this by watching and reading the things which inspired me to write originally...
which means a lot of anime about giant robots and child-soldiers.
The other big blockage that remains in the way is that the laptop I've been comfortably writing on for the last few years is on its last leg. I'm a PC gamer, and so my desktop rig is a behemoth unto itself, but it is also a machine without Microsoft Word. So I'm going to have to get comfortable transferring all of my files at some point into Google Docs sometime in the coming weeks. Technical problems are a big stressor for about everyone, and as much as I work with computers I am no different.

I for one am content with recognizing my own weakness, and am looking forward to finally writing again. It took me a while but I've finally gotten comfortable the last few years with social media, so feel free to engage me on twitter over at @FreiherrStaffen.

Thanks for waiting. Thanks for reading.

deviantID

Elite-Pirate
Staffen
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
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shehrozeameen:iconshehrozeameen:
hey! Happy brithday!!!!
Wed Nov 7, 2012, 9:34 AM
annemarie:iconannemarie:
Oy! Elite, where are you?
Mon Feb 6, 2012, 6:06 AM
Elite-Pirate:iconelite-pirate:
Looking to puke out another two chapters of Ragged Edges by the end of the week.
Sun Dec 11, 2011, 1:00 PM
shehrozeameen:iconshehrozeameen:
happy birthday :D
Mon Nov 7, 2011, 11:38 AM
Elite-Pirate:iconelite-pirate:
Reading Boone Quest is a good way to spend the first hour of my birthday, I guess.
Sun Nov 6, 2011, 10:13 PM
MaKo85:iconmako85:
*pokes gently* ;3
Wed Nov 2, 2011, 8:08 AM
annemarie:iconannemarie:
But the fat yellow man brings such a pleasentness to life!
Thu Aug 25, 2011, 8:23 PM
MaKo85:iconmako85:
*chuckles*
Tue Aug 23, 2011, 7:19 AM
Elite-Pirate:iconelite-pirate:
The bard. Not the fat yellow man.
Mon Aug 22, 2011, 10:48 PM
Elite-Pirate:iconelite-pirate:
For that we must turn to the collective works of Homer.
Mon Aug 22, 2011, 10:47 PM
Nobody

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:icondarkborg-ix:
Darkborg-IX Featured By Owner Dec 11, 2016
You need to be alive. You are not allowed to be dead.
Reply
:iconelite-pirate:
Elite-Pirate Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2016  Student Writer
What is dead can never die.
Reply
:iconvakos67:
vakos67 Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2016
happy birthday!Have your cake and eat it too 
Reply
:iconsahara-brant:
Sahara-Brant Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
The heretical zombie was directed to this site. You have been followed now. Titties. Also Felipe says "Finish Ragged Edges".
Reply
:iconrecklesscharge:
RecklessCharge Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday :) :iconbrewplz:
Reply
:iconshehrozeameen:
shehrozeameen Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday man :) Looking forward to seeing more Balder whenever you're finished with it. Stay strong, stay blessed and keep posting here on dA. Cheers.
Reply
:iconlife-takers-crayons:
Life-takers-crayons Featured By Owner Oct 14, 2015
Thank you for faving :) 
Reply
:iconsev-imperiya:
Sev-Imperiya Featured By Owner May 28, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey mate! How are you doin'?

Still active - good to see ya!
Reply
:iconelite-pirate:
Elite-Pirate Featured By Owner Jun 2, 2015  Student Writer
Doing great! Glad to hear from you.

What about you? Doing well?
Reply
:iconsev-imperiya:
Sev-Imperiya Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Same, same. Can't complain))

Not much happened here but what about your life?
Well it seems you are still doing art - which is great!
Reply
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