Acasa
So there's a thread on Boot Camp about why we play IG and one poster threw two mind-blowing awesome posts at us that I want to share:
Welcome to the Guard.
We don't have all the fancy niceties like the other armies.
When you shoot us we fall down and we don't stand back up. We aren't Necrons. We're the Guard.
When you shoot us and scare us we run away because we fail our leadership. We don't have a psychic link to our commander to make us fearless like the Tyranid Hivemind. We're the Guard.
When we reach a river we have to stop and wait for the Engineers to come up and build us a bridge. We don't have Jetbikes and Raider Transports like the Dark Eldar. We're the Guard.
When we move forward to be in shooting range of your troops, the ones we can't kill will be able to charge us next turn. We can't run away in the assault phase because we don't have Tau Jetpacks. We're the Guard.
When one of our great, heavily decorated warriors dies we bury him and fight on. We can't pull his soul out of the dirt and put him into a walker construct like the Eldar Wraithlord. We're the Guard.
When you wipe out all human life on some godforsaken mudball we stay gone until the dropships bring in reinforcements. We don't release some kookie spore like the Orks. We're the Guard.
When we start having visions of the death of one of our forefathers they lock us up. We don't become fearless berserker monsters immune to pain that can move faster on foot than a tank and tear apart enemies with our bare hands. We're not Blood Angels. We're the Guard.
When a potshot takes out our squad leader no uber-powered killing machine rises from his deformed corpse to avenge our defeat. We're not Chaos. We're the Guard.
When all hope seems lost and our troops are falling fast the Emperor will not answer our prayers and empower our fists to punch through armor plate like paper. We're not Sisters of Battle. We're the Guard.
When the enemy is closing and his heavy weapons are trained on our frontline our troops will get torn to ribbons. We don't have some fancy psychic effect making us impossible to spot. We're not Grey Knights. We're the Guard.
When the position is totally unassailable and the toughest assault troopers need to deep strike into the enemy position to soften them up, we send 4+ armored Stormtroopers into the slaughter. We don't have teleporting Terminator squads. We're not the Deathwing of the Dark Angels. We're the Guard.
When the position must be assaulted and the troops need to get in there quick we send Armored Fist troopers in inside 12 armored Chimera. We don't have jump packs or Land Raiders. We're not Space Marines. We're the Guard.
We are humanity's defenders. We are not superhuman or excessively armed. We are not genetically engineered monsters or ancient robots. We don't have hundreds of years of focus on fighting skills or a Chaos deity to power our weak limbs. We are simple humans using technological marvels designed before the reckoning of our time and misunderstood for ten thousand years. We are the largest and most diverse fighting force in the Galaxy. We stand alone with only our flak armor, our Lasgun, our Platoon, and our unshakable faith in the Emperor to protect us from the horrors that stalk deep space.
That and the most serious Ordnance outlay that any army on the battlefield can muster. If you want to talk about leveling the playing field, the Guard can certainly do that.
The Imperial Guard: If the minimum weren't enough, it wouldn't be the minimum.
Wodon, the War god.
Time for another Pep-talk, boy-os!
You're in the Guard now. You may have once played Space Marines, or Chaos Daemons, or Craftworld Eldar, or even (don't you dare say it. The Commissar is watching) Tau. Those days are over.
You're in the Guard now. Your best friend is an underpowered handgun that dares to use the term "Las" as though it had anything in common with a mighty Lascannon. meh! Your best defense is the finest in spun plastic and thin ceramic plates the Emperor can afford to mass-produce in the billions (as effective as particleboard and a prayer)
We're the Guard.
We don't have some fancy steel and ceramic plate armor powered by a fusion reactor capable of supplying lower Manhatten. We're the Guard. We don't have our weak mortal limbs charged with the warp energy of Darkgods that lust for blood and suffering. We're the Guard. We don't have the psychic death throes of our angelic forefather driving us to madness and a frothing, killing lust. We're the Guard. We don't have invulnerable robot bodies in place of our scabbed and rotting flesh and glowing weapons that shred our foes in layers as they watch in horror. We're the Guard. We aren't genetically enhanced, sac-born killing machines driven forward in conquest for the endless hunger of a Hivemind. We're the Guard. We don't have centuries to focus our near-immortal minds on the singular perfection of the act of killing. We're the Guard. We aren't spore-born, green-skinned battling monsters driven to war on a whim and ready to die because more spore are already in the air. We're the Guard. We aren't grey-skinned walking armories using drones and allied races of Xenos to fight our wars while keeping safe inside our Battle suits and flying Tanks. We're the Guard.
We're sent to war daily on millions of worlds against a thousand different kinds of foe using weapons and equipment designed twenty thousand years ago, handmade and maintained by priests who misunderstand the purpose and barely understand the workings of the technology that they coat in blessings, pour over with sacred oil and dab with blessed ointment, then burn sacred inscence over before activating. We fight an endless war against a numberless foe threatening to engulf our people. Today will end in victory or defeat. Defeated, our world will be consumed by the Xenos-scum to become their paradise. In victory, we achieve only a temporary respite, for tomorrow a hundred foes will array against us. Eventually, individually, we will fail and we will fall, but if we have done our job well the Guard will grind on. Although we lent a hand in the victory, our life will not be missed, for there is nothing but war and our meaningless lives have but served their purpose.
We are the Guard. We are simple men and women with no enhancements, no special powers, no technological wonders in our hands. We are busy building a defensive bastion around our homes with our own hands and defending our world against the horrors that stalk the blackness between the Emperor's worlds. Adeptus Astartes giants fly between worlds in their powered armor and their Battle Barges, claiming glory in the name of the Emperor, but they are not heroes. With invulnerable bodies, powered armor and holy boltguns anyone could be a hero. It does not take bravery to battle your foe from behind the mask of Powered Assault Armor using weapons that tear bloody holes in the enemy. The simple man armed only with a lasgun and in the simplest of Flak armor, trained for three weeks at most, standing his ground and firing his lasgun true into the face of the coming onslaught of the Xenos tide, knowing well that he hasn't the shots left in his magazine to kill the hundreds of charging enemy. He is brave. He is the true hero. He is the defender of the Imperium.
We are the Guard. We are the Heroes of the Imperium, for it is us, and not the Space Marine, that pays the price for failure. It is our wall that falls, it is our family that is slaughtered, it is our world that dies, when the enemy is victorious. The Space Marines go back to orbit and lick their wounds to return and fight again. Our graves go unmarked and our dead uncounted. Victory is not an option. It is the only outcome we survive.
We are the Guard, and this, too, we will defend.
Welcome to the Guard.
We don't have all the fancy niceties like the other armies.
When you shoot us we fall down and we don't stand back up. We aren't Necrons. We're the Guard.
When you shoot us and scare us we run away because we fail our leadership. We don't have a psychic link to our commander to make us fearless like the Tyranid Hivemind. We're the Guard.
When we reach a river we have to stop and wait for the Engineers to come up and build us a bridge. We don't have Jetbikes and Raider Transports like the Dark Eldar. We're the Guard.
When we move forward to be in shooting range of your troops, the ones we can't kill will be able to charge us next turn. We can't run away in the assault phase because we don't have Tau Jetpacks. We're the Guard.
When one of our great, heavily decorated warriors dies we bury him and fight on. We can't pull his soul out of the dirt and put him into a walker construct like the Eldar Wraithlord. We're the Guard.
When you wipe out all human life on some godforsaken mudball we stay gone until the dropships bring in reinforcements. We don't release some kookie spore like the Orks. We're the Guard.
When we start having visions of the death of one of our forefathers they lock us up. We don't become fearless berserker monsters immune to pain that can move faster on foot than a tank and tear apart enemies with our bare hands. We're not Blood Angels. We're the Guard.
When a potshot takes out our squad leader no uber-powered killing machine rises from his deformed corpse to avenge our defeat. We're not Chaos. We're the Guard.
When all hope seems lost and our troops are falling fast the Emperor will not answer our prayers and empower our fists to punch through armor plate like paper. We're not Sisters of Battle. We're the Guard.
When the enemy is closing and his heavy weapons are trained on our frontline our troops will get torn to ribbons. We don't have some fancy psychic effect making us impossible to spot. We're not Grey Knights. We're the Guard.
When the position is totally unassailable and the toughest assault troopers need to deep strike into the enemy position to soften them up, we send 4+ armored Stormtroopers into the slaughter. We don't have teleporting Terminator squads. We're not the Deathwing of the Dark Angels. We're the Guard.
When the position must be assaulted and the troops need to get in there quick we send Armored Fist troopers in inside 12 armored Chimera. We don't have jump packs or Land Raiders. We're not Space Marines. We're the Guard.
We are humanity's defenders. We are not superhuman or excessively armed. We are not genetically engineered monsters or ancient robots. We don't have hundreds of years of focus on fighting skills or a Chaos deity to power our weak limbs. We are simple humans using technological marvels designed before the reckoning of our time and misunderstood for ten thousand years. We are the largest and most diverse fighting force in the Galaxy. We stand alone with only our flak armor, our Lasgun, our Platoon, and our unshakable faith in the Emperor to protect us from the horrors that stalk deep space.
That and the most serious Ordnance outlay that any army on the battlefield can muster. If you want to talk about leveling the playing field, the Guard can certainly do that.
The Imperial Guard: If the minimum weren't enough, it wouldn't be the minimum.
Wodon, the War god.
Time for another Pep-talk, boy-os!
You're in the Guard now. You may have once played Space Marines, or Chaos Daemons, or Craftworld Eldar, or even (don't you dare say it. The Commissar is watching) Tau. Those days are over.
You're in the Guard now. Your best friend is an underpowered handgun that dares to use the term "Las" as though it had anything in common with a mighty Lascannon. meh! Your best defense is the finest in spun plastic and thin ceramic plates the Emperor can afford to mass-produce in the billions (as effective as particleboard and a prayer)
We're the Guard.
We don't have some fancy steel and ceramic plate armor powered by a fusion reactor capable of supplying lower Manhatten. We're the Guard. We don't have our weak mortal limbs charged with the warp energy of Darkgods that lust for blood and suffering. We're the Guard. We don't have the psychic death throes of our angelic forefather driving us to madness and a frothing, killing lust. We're the Guard. We don't have invulnerable robot bodies in place of our scabbed and rotting flesh and glowing weapons that shred our foes in layers as they watch in horror. We're the Guard. We aren't genetically enhanced, sac-born killing machines driven forward in conquest for the endless hunger of a Hivemind. We're the Guard. We don't have centuries to focus our near-immortal minds on the singular perfection of the act of killing. We're the Guard. We aren't spore-born, green-skinned battling monsters driven to war on a whim and ready to die because more spore are already in the air. We're the Guard. We aren't grey-skinned walking armories using drones and allied races of Xenos to fight our wars while keeping safe inside our Battle suits and flying Tanks. We're the Guard.
We're sent to war daily on millions of worlds against a thousand different kinds of foe using weapons and equipment designed twenty thousand years ago, handmade and maintained by priests who misunderstand the purpose and barely understand the workings of the technology that they coat in blessings, pour over with sacred oil and dab with blessed ointment, then burn sacred inscence over before activating. We fight an endless war against a numberless foe threatening to engulf our people. Today will end in victory or defeat. Defeated, our world will be consumed by the Xenos-scum to become their paradise. In victory, we achieve only a temporary respite, for tomorrow a hundred foes will array against us. Eventually, individually, we will fail and we will fall, but if we have done our job well the Guard will grind on. Although we lent a hand in the victory, our life will not be missed, for there is nothing but war and our meaningless lives have but served their purpose.
We are the Guard. We are simple men and women with no enhancements, no special powers, no technological wonders in our hands. We are busy building a defensive bastion around our homes with our own hands and defending our world against the horrors that stalk the blackness between the Emperor's worlds. Adeptus Astartes giants fly between worlds in their powered armor and their Battle Barges, claiming glory in the name of the Emperor, but they are not heroes. With invulnerable bodies, powered armor and holy boltguns anyone could be a hero. It does not take bravery to battle your foe from behind the mask of Powered Assault Armor using weapons that tear bloody holes in the enemy. The simple man armed only with a lasgun and in the simplest of Flak armor, trained for three weeks at most, standing his ground and firing his lasgun true into the face of the coming onslaught of the Xenos tide, knowing well that he hasn't the shots left in his magazine to kill the hundreds of charging enemy. He is brave. He is the true hero. He is the defender of the Imperium.
We are the Guard. We are the Heroes of the Imperium, for it is us, and not the Space Marine, that pays the price for failure. It is our wall that falls, it is our family that is slaughtered, it is our world that dies, when the enemy is victorious. The Space Marines go back to orbit and lick their wounds to return and fight again. Our graves go unmarked and our dead uncounted. Victory is not an option. It is the only outcome we survive.
We are the Guard, and this, too, we will defend.
