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Night Lords 33rd Company - The Mongrels of the Eight


MrBear

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JUST so you know. i was that Jealous...i went out on lunch and bought the Omnibus :tongue.: :biggrin.:

 

A good investment mate, it will look good in your book shelf :biggrin.:

 

Sweet, first claw is looking good Bear!

 

Hmm... "Albia of old"...does that mean Vorbis is King Arthur? 

 

Thanks for the praise Flint, they have been given the first layer of midnight blue now aswell so things are progressing.

 

Hadn't really considered an Arthurian angle though the link between Arthur and Albia is obvious in hindsight, a bit late for my to change my plans now but the thought of the 'once and future king' ending up as a Night Lord is an intriguing one... The 'Albia of old' part is a reference to how some of the recruits for the VIIIth came from Albia, just as the 'Dusk Raiders' originated there. A second quote could make things clearer :smile.:

 

The Legion was... not as I had imagined it to be. Most of my kin had been sent to the XIVth Legion and forged in it a reflection of our homeland and it's ways. Some went to the Xth and though their influence was much dilluted by others their service still brought them both pride and honour. But what of us few that was sent to the VIIIth?

We became monsters as much as we became warriors, writing warnings to others in the blood of our victims. No act too grim for us, no atrocity too dark to commit

 

Justinian Vorbis - Captain of the 33rd Company

 

 

Might be that I can get enough painting done today and tomorrow to have another wip picture up by tomorrow night but with some preparations to do for the road trip we'll see if I'll manage that

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The pictures are a little blurry but I can always try to take better pictures if anyone feels like I should. C&C is welcome as always of course.

 

I really like this Warpsmith; a relatively simple conversion as made it look like a whole different model! :cool.:

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  • 4 months later...

Time to bring this thread back from it's comatose state... Somehow more than 4 months have flown by since the last time I posted anything. The major contribution to that is my work where the workload has been more demanding than  expected and if you combine that with all those other minor distractions that life provide  you get the reason to why things have been somewhat... 'slow'

 

My 'First Claw' guys are finished, just need to take some decent pictures and wrap up their background (should be finished within the next couple of days). They have some reinforcements incoming though, not all of them could join the mission I'm trying to put on paper, a couple of guys had to stay on ship as bodyguards to the Captain. So here are Derethan and Kalad

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/FirstClaw6_zps1104c84c.jpg

 

 

And now on to what is probably the most delayed  reply I have ever made...

 

 

I really like this Warpsmith; a relatively simple conversion as made it look like a whole different model! :cool.:

 

 

Thanks Bob! It was the simplicity of the conversion that made me think of it. I'm terrible at sculpting so the fact that it needed little else than a knife and a file was what made it happen. :biggrin.:

 

 

Anyway, pictures of the finished guys from 'First Claw" should be up within a couple of days and I might also show of some ideas for the Captain of my company...

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Thanks for the encouragement guys! Will do my best to finish the background as fast as possible so there can be somw new pictures.

 

I wouldn't worry about the delay in posting. We all know that bears like to hibernate for winter :wink: .

I like the Autocannon guy. I'm guessing that it's from the fine cast havok kit?

Keep up the good work.

Dallo

 

Cheers Dallo, I'm more of a polar bear though. My biggest worry considering the winter at the moment is that there is still no snow where I live, I want to use my skis dammit! :tongue.:

And you're quite right, it's the fine cast havok.  A little bit bent out of shape but I managed to bend it back into something approaching proper shape.

 

 

Yes!! MrBear is back in the game. And with awesome mini's nonetheless, I still love that autocannon. 

 

Will do my best to stay in the game this time mate. I love that autocannon aswell, it just looks so right I couldn't keep myself from using one!

 

Awesome to see you back at it, Bear!

 

Already looking good. 

 

Thanks Flint! Considering I'm only going to paint two models this time instead of seven I'm cautiously optimistic these guys will be finished a bit faster... :whistling:

 

Tsk tsk, Flint, - *way* too informal there. It's MrBear. Just Bear sounds a bit to much like this

 

You do realise I'm absolutely howling with laughter here at my end? :teehee: If there was a way to 'double like' a post this would be the tim to use that function.

 

'Bear' is quite alright with me. I might not be that kind of bear nor have any, let's say... 'carnal' interests in men but I have one of those strange Scandinavian names that litterally  means 'bear' so I don't mind.

 

AUTOCANNON:thumbsup: :thumbsup: 

 

Never leave home without one! :tongue.:

 

 

I can't report any progress today I'm afraid. Got delayed at work and then it was off to see 'The Hobbit' at the local cinema but since people was so enthusiastic that I revived the thread I'll throw in a 'sneak peak' at the background I'm trying to finish:

 

 

"There was something impossibly big standing in front of him, shaped like a man but beyond anything he had ever seen and the humming sound was so strong in his ears now that it was the only thing he could hear. His dying brain was still trying to understand what was happening to him when the giant leaned closer. He could feel how the dagger was pulled out of his throat and how the blood sprayed over his chest before everything went dark and he knew no more..."

 

Hopefully some more in a couple of days... :cool.:

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Update time! Once again I have proven that I have absolutely no chance of actually keeping any 'deadline' I give myself, it took me two week to finish the background for 'First Claw' instead of the few days I thought it should take... The  workload these last couple of days has been very draining though so that's the major blame for the delay.

 

 

Anyway, here we go with their own 'theme song' and all:

 

 

It was an Emperor-forsaken night to stand guard at the outer walls of the Luthadel citadel. The wind was howling and the usual heavy rains of the season made it all but impossible to anything beyond a few meters in the darkness. Not that such a fact had let Mennis off guard duty, he had not even bothered to complain about the weather as Sergeant Tresting would have beaten him half senseless for questioning the divinely inspired orders of his superiors. Things weren't too bad though, the bastard wouldn't be out doing any inspections in these conditions so together with Tepper he had managed to find a piece of their section where they were sheltered from the worst of the weather. As long as they met up with their replacements at the right spot, in the right time they might aswell spend the next couple of hours as close to comfortable as they could, even though that was stretching the definition of the word far beyond the reasonable.

 

”I wish Sgt. Tresting could come down with the pox so we could get him out of our hair” Mennis said and spat at his feet. ”Then the lickspittles kissing his arse for easy assignements could get to do this instead of us two.”

”Good luck with that” Tepper snorted ”The bastard has too high an opinion of himself to sleep around with gutter trash, despite the fact that they would be the only ones to even consider going to bed with him. Besides, it's not like we're likely to get anyone reasonable in his stead.”

They grinned at each other, bad-mouthing their superiors was the only good thing with night duty at the walls, no officer would ever sacrifice their precious sleep for surprise inspections and they both knew the other to be a sensible fellow who wouldn't let anyone else know what had been said.

”Still... He's been worse than usual this last week.” Tepper continued after a while. ”Captain Kurdon aswell. Some of the guys at the command platoon has been whispering about some kind of trouble at Byzantante. They say that there is no communication, no one that answer the hails.”

”Bah!”Mennis said with a dismissive gesture and spat again.”The bumpkins there in the east couldn't operate a vox caster properly even if their life depended on it. They are too busy trying to get their cousins in bed to learn anything beyond herding grox, not to mention that they would be trying to use their voxes while having solar storms and the rains at the same time.” He shook his head. ”I've heard some other things... There's something bigger going on, a fellow I know at Company HQ says someone is here from the Inqui...”

”Don't say anything like that!” Tepper interrupted him and hastily made the sign of the Aquila, his face shocked from what Mennis had begun to say. ”I've heard they can read your mind and if they find anything they don't like you'll burn at the stake if you're lucky!”

”You will have an easy time then with your empty head.” Mennis said with a sly smile ”Not likely to find anything there are they?” The insult got Tepper trying to swear and laugh at the same time but he seemed to be happy to drop the subject they had discussed.

Everything seemed to be back to normal again but something gave Mennis a bad feeling. He was getting goosebumps on his arms and he could hear a faint humming sound over the wind and rain. He rose up to see if he could find out where the sound was coming from but even without moving from where he had sat it somehow seemed to be getting louder. Suddenly he heard a gurgling sound from where Tepper was sitting and turned around. He had a sensation of something hitting his throat and then there was no air for him to breathe, his trembling hands felt the hilt of what must be a dagger somehow. He could see the red blood on his fingers as he lifted them up but how was this possible? God-Emperor help me! It was becoming harder to stand up and his vision was getting blurry but he managed to focus his eyes on Tepper who was lying prone with a slit throat, but there was something else as well. There was something impossibly big standing in front of him, shaped like a man but beyond anything he had ever seen and the humming sound was so strong in his ears now that it was the only thing he could hear. His dying brain was still trying to understand what was happening to him when the giant leaned closer. He could feel how the dagger was pulled out of his throat and how the blood sprayed over his chest before everything went dark and he knew no more...

 

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Milev looked down on the two corpses as he cleaned his blade, these had been the last two guards on the outer wall and the hardest ones to find. He had to admit to himself that it was mildly amusing that the least competent soldiers had lived longer than their more dutiful comrades who had been found, and killed, exactly where they were supposed to be. It had only been a minor diversion though, there were few living things that could successfully hide from an astartes and fewer still who could evade a 'Night Child' of the VIIIth. Let the Nostramans brag about how their 'lightless' world and lawless streets made them natural predators if they like. He knew how men had lived their entire life from birth to death in the prison sinks of Terra, hunting and killing each other without ever seeing even their own hands in front of them. They are scum and scavangers trying to live up to the standards set by their betters. Only somewhat truthful if he was to be perfectly honest though, some of them would have felt at home in the endless caverns of his childhood and the reputation of the 'Old Legion' had not been much better before they had been remade into the 'Night Lords' then after. As a member of the VIIIth though, a 'Mongrel' even, one learned to take pride of what one could these days, no matter how petty it was or how bitter it felt. He spent a few idle moments contemplating past, present and future, wondering about the points where other roads could have been chosen and where he and the others would go from now before laughing softly at his own follies. No wonder that the others call me a philosopher. We were made for death and terror, not thinking about things beyond our bloody craft. He shook his head to clear his thougths before opening a vox channel to the rest of the squad.

”The last of them are dead brothers. They hid well but not well enough, the walls are ours.”

 

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Two storms were striking Luthadel this night. One of them loudly making it's presence known to everyone in the citadel with a second one entering it's halls without a sound, moving through the lower halls as silently as blood-wasp larvae through a man's veins and just as deadly. A fact that the few servants going about their duties ,despite the late hour, had found out. Most of them had not even had the time to react and the few that tried to get away had won no more than an extra heartbeat or two for all their efforts. No alarms had been raised.

Milev wore a slight smile upon his lips as he stepped over the latest corpse, an old, grey-haired woman who had died so suddenly she had not even had time to look surprised. This was what he and his brothers had been born for, what most of them had learned in the darkness of ancient Terra and then had perfected during the Great Crusade. Funny how those days are so often in my thoughts. Mayhaps because they were in their own ways the zenit of the Legion. Though they had never gotten the full acceptance of their brother legions there had at least been a certain respect of their results, if not always their methods. Nostramo had changed that, Nostramo and the Primarch who had risen in it's twisted streets. The transformation of the old VIIIth into the 'Night Lords' had been smooth at first, pale faced brothers of different worlds had united by gene-seed and use of harsh justice into one of the most feared weapons the Imperium possessed. The integration did however go too deep. As more and more of their warriors were nostroman and the Primarch's homeworld descended further and further into lawlessness the Legion was slowly but surely morphed into something as dark and twisted as any of the warlords it first had punished in the Unification Wars. Terror and torture had gone from useful tools to being the primary reasons to fight for many of the Legion's sons. We fell so slowly that we did not even notice it until our decent was completed. Would we have fallen as far or even fallen at all if our father had stayed lost? Or if fate had found him a fairer home? No matter how much he tried thoughts like these kept haunting him from time to time, sometimes almost sending him into a melancholy state of mind. Talaxin's flashing identification rune brought his mind back from the past and he blinked once to open a vox channel to him.

 

 

”You seem troubled brother.” Talaxin said in his deep voice as they walked on towards the next stairs ”Are you haunted by the shades of our history once more?”

Milev was unsurprised that it was him of all his brothers that had been first to notice his mood, Talaxin was considered the wisest and most farseeing member in the Company and after the Captain he was also the most respected. His resilience as much of a reason for this respect as his wisdom as he had endured enough wounds to cripple a whole squad. There had certainly been warriors interred in Dreadnought with more of their bodies left than Talaxin, he was indeed know to all as 'The Walking Dead' and had enough bionics to make a member of the Xth envious.

”Perceptive as always Talaxin” he said with a bitter chuckle. ”My thoughts go back to when we wore the grey armour of our youth. Of what we were and could have been...”

”What was can be again Milev, the VIIIth might be glorious once more” Talaxin replied and Milev had to smile at that encouragment, the Old Legion was not truly dead yet. The whole of 'First Claw' were a living testament of what had been, in their hearts they were still the 'Primus Pilus, XXXIIIrd Centuria, VIIIth Legiones Astartes' no matter what their nostroman brothers might name them.

”Always the optimist Tal!” He answered back in a more mirthful voice ”You should have kept serving the cursed Throne, the 'Chaplains' of the thin-bloods can't be half as motivating as you are.”

He expected no answer to that as Talaxin had always been laconic at heart, even his armour was understated. It did not sport any trophies, just a small skull carved from one of his own ruined legs. When once asked about it he had just shrugged and without a trace of humor said that it brought him luck. As he contemplated this the squad vox came to sudden life with Taan Zhar's harsh voice:

”Prepare yourself brothers, the auspex show that our prey have proper guards ahead of us.”

That meant that they had reached the levels of the citadel where from where they would have to fight their way forward. They slowed their pace and moved as silently as they could through the still dimly lit servant's corridor, there was doorway at it's end and they saw who were guarding the door.

 

Only two Sisters and as many guardsmen? Almost suspiciously easy... Especially as he could see how they interacted with each other, the guardsmen clearly intimidated by the Sisters and they in turn obviously irritated by the how the men kept glancing at them. And here I thought that things would turn complicated. Apparently Taan Zhan had been thinking the same as the contempt in his voice suggested to Milev.

”It seems they are expecting other 'guests' than us, someone that might see this 'guard' and hesitate. Kwaan, Ulef. Take the Sisters, headshots. Let them pay for their lack of sense. Kersaid, Yomen. The guardsmen are yours.” The others acknowledged the orders but it was clear from his grunted answer and flexing lightning claws that Kersaid was not pleased, he probably saw the Sisters as his legitimate prey. He had been a fervent champion of the 'Imperial Truth' and had helped expunge whole religions as the Great Crusade moved across the stars but the revalation that the great 'truth' was a lie had unhinged something in his mind. He still fought with zeal for the same ideals that he once had but he had now made the Ecclesiarchy his primary target. 'The Iconoclast' decorated his armour with nothing but the bones and flesh of martyrs and Imperial saints, others had sometimes mistaken this with worship of the Dark Powers and Kersaid's reaction to these guesses was quite often fatal. Though he resented some faiths more than others he spat upon all forms of belief in his anger. Will today be the day when the bonds of brotherhood breaks? Trying to keep him from his favourite sport could be dangerous even to Talaxin and he have never respected Taan Zhan even half as much. But if the Sergeant felt the slightest unease he hid it well, though evidently he felt the need to explain his decision.

”Don't be a throne-deluded fool Kersaid.” Taan Zhan said in a firm tone, as if talking to a missbehaving child. ”The Sisters have com-links, the guardsmen don't. As long as you insist on carrying those blasted claws around you'll slay those that can't give us away. No matter how much you may wish it you're not faster than a bolt round.”

The only answer from Kersaid was a single burst of static as an acknowledgment. He can make Talaxin seem overly talkative when he is in this kind of mood.

If Kersaid was silent though, there were others that would speak their mind.

”Are we finished with this 'war council'? Or should we perhaps ask those mortals about how they feel about this aswell” Ulef asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm and a gesture towards the doorway ”We are the VIIIth, it should not matter who kills whom as long as the survivors fear our return.” A nice little speech. He have always had an inflated ego but he know how use turn a phrase. Especially if it can make himself seem so much grander and wiser.

While he did not like Ulef there was no denying that he had a point this time, his importance to the Company was a different matter though. He liked to drop 'subtle hints' about deposed kings of Pre-Unification nations among his ancestors as to mark himself as special, as if anyone born in those subterranean pits had much knowledge even about their parents, much less their ancestors. Milev could never quite tell if Ulef belived those stories himself but he kept his armour as gaudy as possible and the handcrafted helmet had something looking suspiciously regal like circlet upon it. He was a brother of the 'old days' though and one of the best shots they had so there was no reason to let a minor dislike grow out of proportion, there were others in the Company he could focus his despise on instead if he so wished.

 

Taan Zhan was no more fond of Ulef than Milev was and just nodded at his words before turning to the others. He made a quick gesture, it's meaning as old as mankinds habit of killing, and the fate of the guards was sealed. The Sisters died instantly, two combi-bolters fired as one and their heads were vaporized. The guardsmen's lives ended almost as swiftly, with the sound of the bolters ringing in their ears and the blood of the Sisters over their faces they had neither time nor rability to react. Before they knew it one of them had Kersaid's claws through his intestines while Yomen tore his comrade apart with his eviscerator. It had taken no more than a handul of seconds to kill them all. Kersaid's coarse laughing was heard through the squad channel and Milev could imagine how the others were grinning behind their helmets but he wasn't. He glanced at Talaxin and could see from his posture that his brother also seemed to think something wasn't right. It's too easy. No Inquisitor would have guards such as these, not even if they thought themselves secure inside a citadel. There must be something we are overlooking somehow. There was nothing tangible though, nothing to mention to his brothers without making himself look nervous.

He was holding his bolter in a steady grip as they moved through the doorway, the auto-senses of his helmet had helped him stay alive for centuries so he was prepared to rely on them once more. There were no warning signals flashing before his eyes though and he heard nothing besides their fotsteps. He still felt and walked like a predator, nothing could shake that self image, but even a Carnodon would walk cautiously if there were Devil Leeches in the area.

Milev had been certain there would be an ambush waiting for them behind the heavy door and the thought of it was still there in his mind. He was trying to ignore it but it was gnawing his brain like some kind of screeching vermin trying to escape a trap.

No matter his unspoken doubts they moved more quickly through the corridors now, as there were reasons to haste. While stray servants going missing in the middle of the night were unlikely to raise any trouble they could not know if or when the guards would be replaced and anyone finding them in the state they had been left would definitely sound the alarm. These levels were also better lit which was a clear sign that more mortals could be up and about even at this late hour. The thought of how the 'light' must sting Kwaan's eyes made him chuckle despite the fact that he was half expecting gunfire to break out any second. I don't care if he thinks it's more satisfying to look upon a terrified mortal with his own eyes. Just because he is almost thick-skulled enough to stop bolter shells with his forehead doesn't mean that he should tempt fate like that.

He had never been close to Kwaan so his brother's discomfort was a welcome amusement. Few warriors of the Legion were known for their pleasant personalities or great social skills but Kwaan had taken bitterness and hatred to extreme levels even for the sons of the Night Haunter. Be it one of the imperial lapdogs, a fellow 'renegade' or even a brother of the VIIIth it would not matter to him, he would kill anyone with a twisted grin upon his face before spitting upon their corpse. As violent mood swings were part of his 'charm' aswell it was perhaps not surprising that most beside his squad mates avoided him. They in their turn would not shed any tears if he fell in battle as he could be difficult to deal with, but as long as he did not turn his anger upon them he would be tolerated. The feelings of fraternity within the squad may have been much shredded by time but it still meant something to them, a brother stayed your brother almost no matter what.

 

They had reached a large hall, probably meant for official cermonies judging from the decorations, when the ambush came. Searchlights and lamps lit the room up as a booming voice called out from one of the many balconies:

“Halt heretics! Lay down your weapons in the name of the Most Holy Emperor's Inqusition!”

None of them felt inclined to obey such a command and dove behind whatever cover they could find among pillars and cermonial furniture. Predictable enough their movment led to an outburst of lasgun and bolter fire to where they had been standing. The instant they had something solid between themselves and the incoming fire the vox came to life with the voices of the others.

“Where in the name of the Father did they come from?!” roared Yomen.

Talaxin, by comparison, was much calmer and spoke in his usual manner.

“Nevermind that. How many of them are there and where? Brother Sergeant?”

“Blood of the corpse-god!” snarled Ulef “Why do you think our 'illustrious' leader will know that when his precious auspex never told us we were walking into an ambush!”

Milev felt a weird mix of vindication for his suspicions coming true and amusement over how his brothers reacted, especially Kwaan who provided such a seemingly endless supply of growled curses and insults that the others muted his 'contribution' in order to get their own voices heard. A pity we don't have the time to break the codes for their vox-net and let them listen to him. It would be interesting to see if he could make their ears bleed from all his cursing. The thought made him smile despite the situation they were in. He blind-fired his bolter from behind the pillar he used as cover and was rewarded with a cry of pain, clearly audible to trained ears even through all the gunfire. The smile grew into a face splitting grin as this unlikely hit tilted the odds ever so slightly in their favor.

A good 'omen', maybe we actually have a reasonable chance to get through this mess after all.

“It doesn't matter much how many they were, there is one less of them now anyway” he laughed over the vox as their enemies seemed to focus their fire at his position.

“The auspex says there are twentyfive of them” Taan Zhan answered at last. “Ten seems to be in the balconies and the rest on the ground level. They were twentysix but it looks like Milev actually hit something other than a wall for once.”

“How do you know we can trust that cursed thing this time? It didn't tell you they were there in the first place.” spat Ulef as he tried to cover behind what had once been expensive furniture.

“I don't” Taan Zhan said in a strained voice. “ But no shields can keep someone hidden while they are firing though and if any warpspawned witch was messing with my mind I would still not see anything on it. So unless you've suddenly developed psychic 'gifts' telling you something else we will go with what I can see!”

Not even Ulef could argue with that logic and they all steeled themselves for what they knew was coming up.

“We can't stay here, the whoresons will be able to overwhelm us eventually when their reinforcements arrive.” said Taan Zhan. “If we try to pull back they will follow us and make boarding a Thunderhawk... 'demanding' even if there wasn't a storm covering half the continent. I barely trust Yarda's flying skills in decent conditions and him taking off in the middle of a battle in these conditions is probably more dangerous than fighting our way through them. Besides, do any of you want to be the one to tell the Captain that you fled from your prey?”

Milev thought the lack of responses spoke for itself. The Captain is 'reasonable' to a certain extent but I doubt that he would take kindly to his 'chosen' abandoning their task for running into a score of mortals. I don't know about the others but I prefer to keep my skin upon my back.

“There is no idea trying to use any supressive fire, we all rush them at the same time. Fire as you charge. Milev and Talaxin target the balconies. Ulef and Kwaan focus on those on the ground. Yomen and Kersaid, maim whoever you can reach. Don't kill the Inqusitor if you can avoid it! Brothers, charge at the count of three! One. Two. Three! For the VIIIth!”

The whole squad rose as one and charged their enemies, guns roaring. Some of them were echoeing their Sergeant, using proper warcries, and Kwaan was still howling vile insults at the top of his voice but it was Yomen who seemed to shock their enemies most, causing them to slow their fire for a few vital heartbeats. Milev had to admit that the while the sight of a skull-helmeted Astartes wielding a giant eviscerator charging them would make most mortals hesitate, the singing was what must have stunned them. As always Yomen was singning as he charged, taking no heed of lasgun fire or bolter shells he sang his usual lullabies in ancient gothic with a surprisingly melodius voice. He had once confessed to to Milev that those songs were the only memories he had of his mother, another evidence of what had been taken from all of them when they were chosen to become the Emperor's murderers.

“Stand fast in the name of the Emperor! Keep firing!” the Inquisitor cried out and broke the shortlived 'spell' that Yomen had created with his voice. As short as it had been it had done enough though, his singing had shaken their opponents for a few crucial seconds, allowing the squad to cross most of the open space intact. When the full chaos of battle resumed the odds had tilted massively in their favor.

There was gunfire coming from all directions, screams of pain and rage, chainswords roaring and pleas for mercy ending abruptly. Enough was happening around him to make even an Astartes feel like he was fighting under water. Milev saw a Sister aiming her bolter at him and he lowered his head to make himself a smaller target as he tried to bring his own bolter about, her shot hit him at the top of his helmet and sent him crashing to the floor. His head was hurting like someone had hit him with a thunder hammer but he was still alive, mk.III helmets were made to withstand almost anything a warrior might encounter. As he was rising again, he heard Talaxin's plasma gun fire and the next instant the Sister's upper body was desintegrated.

“My thanks brother!” he exclaimed when he was standing again, firing his bolter at a stormtrooper taking aim at Kersaid and seperating the mortal's right arm from the rest of him. Kersaid in his turn was doing his best trying to turn two other of the Sororitas into bloody pieces with his claws, one of them missing her left hand but both of them making good efforts themselves considering the cracks from their bolters in his brother's armour. Milev fired off another round, hitting the knee of the one-handed Sister and making her fall to the ground. Kersaid's roar discovering that he was facing just a single opponent was equal parts triumph and resentment and Milev grinned as the final Sister was finding it increasingly difficult to hold back her enemy on her own. The bastard will rant about the help for ages. As if we should humour his notions about what's his proper prey when we need to finish this as quickly as possible.

He looked around searching for another target but there were fewer of them now, he and his brothers had been badly battered by their rush at the enemies but once among them they had spilled enough blood to make a member of the XIIth extatic. He sawYomen, still singing the songs of his childhood, exchange blows with what had to be a death cult assasin. A lithely built, masked woman in a skin-tight black and red bodyglove who moved as if she was dancing. Kwaan was moving up from behind them, trying to draw a bead on her with his combi-bolter. With contemptuous ease, without even looking, she threw one of her many knives at him. Only a last second dive to the side saved his eye but the knife still lodged itself in his Kwaan's face mask, cutting off his cursing even though Milev was certain it reached new levels thanks to this.

The cultist was moving in a speed difficult to follow even for an Astartes but to Milev's surprise Yomen was keeping up, wielding his eviscerator as if it was as nimble as an ordinary gladius. He was fighting as if possessed, matching every move his opponent made and still his singing was heard through the sounds of battle, the fight looked like it would be able to go on for ever but ended abruptly. Finding no way past Yomen's sword the cultist tried another approach, she used her speed to run halfway up a pillar and somersaulted over Yomen. She had moved with such quickness that there could be no way for him to stop her from striking him in the back, yet somehow he did. Milev had never seen anyone move as swift before but when she was coming down, his brother's sword was there to meet her. With gravity working against her there was little she could do, even so she tried to turn in the air anyway but to no avail. Between two heartbeats she was impaled and their fight was over.

Milev felt as if he had witnessed something from a legend, something that would live in the memory of the 'Mongrels' as long as they existed.

He realised that everything was quiet around them, not only the duel but the whole battle was over. The only things that could be heard was the soft humming of their power armour and the hoarse voices of his brothers as they cried out their triumph. All of them looked like they had battled their way through a legion of enemies, their armour shattered, broken and blood splattered but they were the ones standing and their enemies lay dead at their feet. The sole exception to that was the unconscious Inqusitor that Taan Zhan had slung over his shoulder. No one had seen their fight and it was as if the Sergeant had heard their unspoken questions.

“The fool thought we were fighting a proper duel with rules and limitations” he said with contempt in his voice. “I smashed my helmet in his face when he wasn't expecting it. The bastard broke my skull mask with his thick head!”

The vox-channel erupted with the crude laughter from the others, they all knew how painstakingly Taan Zhan had crafted it himself from the skull of a Black Templar.

“Enough with this.” he said when they had finished. “Fall back to the extraction point. We have what we came for.”

 

 

First out is Talaxin, Milev and Yomen

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw7_zps6d2c9991.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw8_zpsc4ebbb2c.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw9_zpsa4deda26.jpg

 

 

Then we have Ulef, Taan Zhan and Kwaan

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw10_zpsa84752d2.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw11_zps50497859.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw12_zpsc8947fe8.jpg

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw13_zps3d05e609.jpg

 

 

And finally Kersaid

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw14_zps6801284c.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw15_zps36a5bead.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw16_zpsa0f4c832.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/Firstclaw17_zpsbbfdce46.jpg

 

 

The lighting conditions up here at this time of year are not what you could call optimal but I did the best I could with the camera. C&C is of course always welcome :smile.:

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Merry Christmas all! Or as we Swedes say it: "God jul!"  And thanks for the encouragment and comments aswell! :smile.:

 

Work has begun on the next couple of fellows but they are only undercoated so far, I'm also working on converting my Captain. With any luck I should have something to show in the next week or so. I know I'm terrible at actually living up to these statements but with no work until the 7th I should be able to actually manage this time :wink:

 

 

@deathspectersgt7: Thanks mate, glad you liked them

 

@Augustus: Take your time bro, Christmas is a great time to kick back and put your feet up.

 

@Noctem Cultor: Will do my best!  Thanks for the praise brother.

 

@Flint: Thanks sister. You know you can drop the 'MR' though, unless you want to shield Augustus' mind from bear-related pictures of course. :biggrin.:

 

 

Anyway, I hope everyone will have a great holiday!

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

looking good mate :thumbsup:

 

is that torso on the last guy from the FW night lords terror squad? 

 

keep up the good work brother!

 

Thanks for the praise brother. Sorry for leaving you without an answer for so long but I haven't checked the thread for a while. You're right though, it's from the Terror squad. A nice little kit :smile.:

 

Time for an update, MrBear!! :biggrin.:

 

Funny that you mention that, I have something... Something coming up that is. :wink: While I haven't had the time to paint as much as I have wanted and  paint in a glacial pace compared to 'some people' :whistling: I have been able to do a little now and then. The next couple of guys are nearly finished so it shouldn't take long. Might have some pictures of the first converted guys for 2nd Claw soon aswell.

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'Work in progress' you say? And here I thought it meant 'We're into plastic crack' the whole time! :teehee:

 

Kidding aside, you're quite right. There should be more wip-pictures but the whole 'glacial' painting speed is part of the explanation, most of the time there is so little progress to see that I can't be bothered to take pictures. And then somewhere along the process I usually realise that they are so close to being finished that I might aswell wait for that (as with the upcomming two guys that round of 'First Claw').

 

That being said... I have a couple of pictures of some coming conversions. First three guys from 'Second Claw'  that are just tacked together for now as I wait for some parts, then some early ideas on a 'Librarian' type and finally the next thing I will start painting (in a week or so I hope...), my Captain.

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/SAM_0285_zps1e4ae681.jpg

 

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/SAM_0286_zps4e3331da.jpg

 

http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m101/The-Bear-in-the-North/SAM_0287_zps3b8b4694.jpg

 

 

Obviously there are still quite a lot to do with these guys and so but at least it's something. :tongue.:   

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Haha well don't worry - the wip pics give us an insight into your work process, which, like everyone's work process, is always in the process of improving :D 

 

Point in case: I really like these dudes, mostly because of the different bits you used (I approve highly of the raptor arms and the MkV legs) and especially the last guy. He looks the part. Small detail on the left guy in the first pic: I'd try bending his torso a little backward (it slightly looks like he is bending forward now) and a little to his left (which will give the impression of his torso adding momentum to his swing). :tu: What is the last guy going to be - a warpsmith or 'just' a champion of some sort?

 

MOAR!

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