Well, here we are in my first journal entry, allow me to introduce myself. I am a grot, though in my newly enhanced state I find that term quite offensive and would prefer to be called a muscularly challenged ork. I have still yet to think of a name for myself, as I can now see that Ereyoo isn't my real name, despite what I may have believed for my short torrid existence thus far. It will do for the time being... not many sentient creatures get the opportunity to name themselves, and I wish to put some thought into it. As for my enhanced state, that would be due to my "master" Mek Bugrit, who has been trying for some time to make some sort of weapon that fires my lesser brethren through the warp. I was a test shot yesterday. For some reason I emerged from a horrifying journey with my intellect boosted incredibly. Sadly my muscles were not boosted to match, otherwise I would shove that tube up Bugrits... no, those thoughts are beneath me. I am sure with my gentle guidance his career as a Mek will flourish and make life better for our little tribe.
Our little tribe is centred around Bugrits workshop, where among the various projects he has on the go we are currently repairing a couple of trucks, producing jetpacks for any idiots willing to try them, "testing" some sort of gun that fires my kin through some other realm and of course the endless scheme of creating a motorbike that Mek Bugrit can actually ride, just like his hero Wazdakka Gutsmek. Unlike Wazdakka, Bugrit is hopeless on two wheels, dangerous on three, and just as likely to fall off four or more. For an Ork that loves speed, he really could do with a better sense of balance.
My personal project (apart from mere survival) is to get my hands on that grot gun and find out what happened to me. If I could replicate the effect, I could create a master race. Sure the bigger guys push us around now, but all we'd need to do is reach a critical mass and we could run it all! Can you imagine such a society? Run for the benefit of all green kind with intelligence guiding us through the stars? It is a dream worth striving for.
Anyway, I must return to my duties. I have to go and "correct" my work from earlier. Apparently fully functioning jet packs just aren't crowd pleasers, and if at least one in five isn't little more than a suicide belt with a touch of thrust it's just not good enough.
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