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About this blog

I'm going to use this to document the slowly-building Genestealer Cult uprising on Prawa V. I am grateful for the opportunity to show off my models and a little bit of my storytelling. I hope you enjoy.

 

For the time being, all models are painted to 'battle ready' standard while I get my painted army assembled. I intend on going back over them to do the finer details once my painting goal is achieved.

 

I welcome all constructive criticism on both the painting and the writing!

 

Entries in this blog

The gathering storm

A glimpse into the future

I'd like to say thank you to those who have been following the story of Prawa V. I appreciate your support. I've been writing about Prawa V and the 280th since the latter half of last year and I am way ahead of the passages I have posted here.  I've found my writing has significantly improved over the past few months and I've also drifted away from writing the little vignettes as I feel I cannot convey everything I want in them. Thus, I am writing longer, fuller texts now and would welcome your
The first steps toward freedom

An Inspector Calls

The desert wind scraped against the battered walls of the prefab inspection room. Dust swirled lazily through the open doorway where the 280th stood lined up. I was in the middle of them, standing at attention with my pulse ticking at my temple.   Lieutenant Kaśnyk paced slowly before us, the heels of his polished black boots clicking softly against the steel flooring. His long grey coat swept behind him with each step. He wasn’t tall, not towering like some officers, but he didn’t nee
The first steps toward freedom

Outpost Takeover

The outpost changed hands with almost no one the wiser. Traders still bustled through Salvager’s Row, lugging crates of scrap and half-broken machinery. The ancient water pump hissed and groaned in its battered station, supplying the lifeblood of a thousand residents. Even the toll booth, perched by the outpost’s main thoroughfare, continued to collect the Emperor’s tithe—or so the clerks believed.   In truth, the coin now lined the coffers of a new master.   Far from the pry
The first steps toward freedom

Field Promotion

Writer's note: I wasn't happy with Rakoczy's departure, so did a little rewriting of things to make it have more impact and give him the dignity he deserved as a good squad sergeant. While we didn't know him as a character, I wanted his lasting memory to be that of a good leader, leaving some big shoes to fill. Thoughts welcome.   The fires had burned low by the time Jagiełło arrived. The smoke still clung to the rafters, curling like lazy ghosts above the wreckage. I stood near the en
The first steps toward freedom

The loss of a good man

The air was thick with the acrid scent of discharged lasrifle power packs, mingling with the sharp tang of blood. The last echoes of gunfire had faded into the desert, leaving only the crackling of small fires and the laboured breathing of the wounded. I knelt by Rakoczy, his hand clutching weakly at my sleeve. His uniform was dark with blood, the wound in his side gaping, beyond any aid we could offer.   He coughed, a wet, gurgling sound. "Good fight," he muttered. "You kept your head
The first steps toward freedom

The desert waystation

Just a little context for this. The Resistance are looking to expand their influence and, working within the Imperial PDF structure, they are putting out their feelers for those who may be persuaded to come over to their side. Our narrator and his squad are visiting a desert waystation on a 'routine' patrol.   The trading post was pungent, as these places always were — the stale odour of too many bodies packed into a confined space, sweat soaked deep into the wood and threadbare rugs.
The first steps toward freedom

Awakening an ancient beast

The dust had not yet fully settled when the officer strode forward, his boots crunching over the fallen rubble. He was a broad-shouldered man with a hard-set jaw, his uniform stained with sweat and sand. Despite the years of quiet subjugation, the vestiges of military discipline clung to him like an ill-fitting coat. He turned and barked an order, his voice sharp against the thick silence.   "Get those lamps in here! Engineers, with me!"   The beams of portable floodlights cu
Introductions

Meeting the Primus

I'm going break character a moment and preface this entry with a little context for you. I've never liked the Genestealer's Kiss mechanic; it's always felt like a bit of a McGuffin to me in terms of story, a quick and easy way to move the story along. So, as this blog continues and follows our narrator, it's going to become obvious he's not been taken by it. He has met the Patriarch, though he does not know the true horror of its monstrosity, being shrouded and cloaked but the encounter has left
Introductions

A distant world, toiling under the yoke of oppression

There are three great Hive Cities on Prawa V: Prawa Prime, Prawa Secundus, and Prawa Ten Drugi. Ten Drugi is my home, the home of my brothers and sisters in the Miners' Guild of Shaft VII. The Imperial overseers rule with iron fists, their myriad bureaucrats ensconced within towering spires, tallying each unit of ore we rip from the rock. They ensure that every shortfall is met with punishment—banishment to the sands rather than execution. After all, our labour is vital for the sector, despite n
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