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I'm sure someone's excited with the additions of shattered legions and black shields msn-wink.gif

I'm waiting with bated breath to see what Hyaenidae does with the new Blackshields/Scattered Legions avenue. ^_^

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So.... every month one new post, eh?

I can live with that.

Keep going, Brother. Great work.

I think you missed the post's date's year, brother. It's been a bit longer than that between updates...

Ouh.... OUH. No. I can't live with another year. No, no, no.
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  • 3 weeks later...

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RyuL6EF5DL0

Those who pass by know Baal.

When the sun hangs high in the sky, it’s hot enough to boil the exposed underside of a rad scorpion. At nightfall, when the ebon twins shine their moonlight, a scouring wind is cold enough to freeze the clinging sand to our suits. By dawn the eternal fire has returned and the process repeats, over and over again. This is life on Baal. The natural rhythm of our world can be found buried within our own souls. We possess the same light and darkness within the blood of the Angel.

Many have heard of life on Baal. Of the nomad tribes heroically hurling back the scavenging mutant hordes.

Fewer have heard of the internecine wars between the pure-kind. When the darkness consumes the souls of proud men, and when tribes that shared trade and kinship turn upon those they once called cousins.

This was the sight that greeted me at sunset on the day of ascension.

I stand outside our burning home, a temp-hut made of grey mud and silk reeds, woven so tight not a ray of light can find its way inside. My father, gone to the outer wall of our camp, has forgotten his rifle. Men of this age do not forget their livelihood and there can be no mistaking his decision. He’s left it for me to defend my mother and sister, and now I, too, must be a man. He has gone to the wall with only his electro-spear and burnished shield, the mark of our people’s protectors. It is a death wish, and I will never lay eyes on him again for it.

The Syranthi are in our camp. They’ve turned on us for reasons I do not know. I don’t have the time to find the answers, but it falls to me to defend the bloodline. I heft the rifle to my shoulder once more, as the Syranthi runs at me. They’ve blackened their rad suits with oil waste from their wagon trains - a clear mark of their intent. They’ve come to kill us all. They will harvest our livestock, steal our weapons and enslave our young.

My finger meets the trigger, and with a squeeze violent tears vaporize the Syranthi’s head as the rounds impact.

Screams from behind fill my soundpieces. My blue-visored helm obstructs my peripherals while spinning to meet more of the betrayers. Two men trample toward my mother and little sister. As I bring the rifle to the fore, one warrior has already snatched Lysandra from my mother’s grip and is making his way down the backside of the dune in retreat. My sister’s wailing screeches across the sky. The other man is rounding on my mother now, who’s caught in an attempt to save my sister or die trying.

I let out a cry of my own as the rifle bucks in my hands. My shot doesn’t find its mark, clipping the lower leg of the Syranthi. Damn this weighty rifle. I drop it and without thinking charge the man who has stopped to face me. The squared shoulder plate of my radsuit plants into the man’s chin as I knock him from his feet. He flattens, disoriented from the rush.

My hand is already at my ankle to find the grip of my knife. Before the Syranthi can react I’ve already plunged the blade through his windpipe with enough force to break the handle. He’s clawing up at me now, arterial spray decorates the dust shawl wrapped around me with dark blots. The white and bronze-chased plates of my suit are stained red. Father would be proud.

It’s at this time I notice the world around me has gone silent. There is only a funnel of black. I quickly rise from the dying man in search of my mother and sister. I spot them across the dune, where my mother has caught up to the Syranthi who had stolen my sister as he casts her aside. The grin across my face vanishes quickly. I am too far to stop what’s coming.

He rakes his spear through my mother’s midsection, tearing through the lighter plates of her suit with ease. As she falls to her knees he has already turned, hauling my sister up by her shawl while they make for the outer wall.

It’s the first time this fevered panic consumes me. I am running without thought, without any worry for self-preservation, as my vision blurs and my heart thunders. I must get to her. I must save her.

“Mother,” the quavering tone in my voice surprises even myself. I kneel and take her hand in my own. She’s lying on her back as her blood runs cold. She is weary and dying.

“Phylo,” she gasps, it’s an effort just to gather the strength to speak.

“Mother,” I begin, “we… we have to get you away from here now. I have to save Lysa!”

She shakes her head. I can see the heavy look in her glossy eyes. Only mere moments are left between us.

“We have to leave.” I beg her as I gesture to the horizon where the sun has fled. I am begging for her to stand up again and run with me. Tears clot my eyes now.

She grips my hand tighter and pulls for me to come closer. There is a sudden conviction in her voice as her eyes narrow. “You must kill the good inside you,” she says sternly.

“You must,” she instructs me, as she always has. Only this time it is the last time. “It is the only way you will survive in this world.”

“Go now, Phylo. Run,” she says as a final breath leaves her body.

Her last words have resonated throughout my lifetime and I remind myself of her message before what we are about to do.

We are about to kill our compassion, our understanding, our advancement, so that the human race will survive. We are needed in this time. As brother turns on brother, I am so reminded of that fateful day. I must destroy the good inside.

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Phyloandrus of the IX

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Damn it, Tyrannicide! I just bought a bunch of Blood Angels stuff last week to use in 30k and you go and blow all of my ideas out of the water! :P

 

Nice biggerizing on Phylo, tho. He looks like a badass, so please tell me he's an HQ choice. I don't think I could live with an entire army as cool as him...

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First of all, great use of the fury road soundtrack. Second, that is a fantastic model. Never would've thought the dark eldar winged lack would look so good on a marine, yet here we are. Dare I say it, it looks better than the sanguinary guard wings and their wonky proportions.
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  • 3 weeks later...

Thank you for the comments, everyone! I'm really looking forward to getting the ball rolling again with the Angels.

Damn it, Tyrannicide! I just bought a bunch of Blood Angels stuff last week to use in 30k and you go and blow all of my ideas out of the water! tongue.png

Nice biggerizing on Phylo, tho. He looks like a badass, so please tell me he's an HQ choice. I don't think I could live with an entire army as cool as him...

He's one of the basic chosen from the Command Squad. msn-wink.gif

Now I definitely nee some Dark Fury packs. Amazing fluff and model.

Thanks, bro!

First of all, great use of the fury road soundtrack. Second, that is a fantastic model. Never would've thought the dark eldar winged lack would look so good on a marine, yet here we are. Dare I say it, it looks better than the sanguinary guard wings and their wonky proportions.

Couldn't agree more. I won't go near those Sanguinary Guard wings, way too many issues there. Credit goes to Rohr on this one, who thought up using the Scourge wings. Also felt the Dark Fury pack gave it a sleeker, more appropriately aerodynamic look.

Great story and model, but I'm not really a fan of the wings, even though these are the best wings on a jump pack I've seen... I just think wings of any type on a jump pack look kinda silly.

Appreciate the words, Kage. Can't argue with personal preference, but there has been some thought put into the rationalization behind the wings.

I'll take this opportunity to describe how these wings actually serve a purpose beyond invoking simple angel imagery. Rohr and I envision they work like a glider frame. There's the frame, which is controlled by two arms, and then the surface area, which has been sewn together as feathers. The frame itself doesn't fly, rather, extends to control rapid descents. It functions similarly to a wing suit. The pack mounts would control motion along the X-axis, where the frame arms control rotational motion along the Y. This way the wings can twist and raise at different articulate points. All our Blood Angels 'veteran' units have the wings, which in-universe would be used for low mesopheric drops. Think of HALO jumps, and these guys are our void-to-ground jump troopers.

I like him. The pose is great, the background is great. I quite like the wings, how do you plan to paint them?

Glad you like him, dude. I'll probably stick with white to draw the angel parallel. I had considered black or even an alternating black and gold feather pattern, but that might make the models too busy.

+++

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Paint to follow soon. Hoping to run some color tests tomorrow.

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