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  • GSCUprising

    Jagieŀŀo inspects their prizes

    By GSCUprising

    The Resistance have finally captured the war machines they believe they require to make their stand.   Brutus, the Malcador, reliable, dependable the spine of their battleline. She will not fail them. She will hold the line, her battlecannon roaring, her sponsons blazing as she paves the way for the Resistance's advance. The Iron Duke, his twin Earthshaker cannons blasting holes in the enemy's fortifications. He guards those retreating and the wounded behind his massive blast shield
    • 0 comments
    • 836 views
  • Bouargh

    Square Pants Bob

    By Bouargh

    Hi Folks,   Today’s blog entry is a little bit specific as it deals with something different from my usual inputs: instead of reporting hobbying progress, I will talk about a trail I did for a new technique (à la TITH – i.e. something that is not new in general but new for me).     The technique is often reported on purpose of adding details and create battle damages or war-torn marks on miniatures. But beyond painting damages, the sponge might be used on purpose of
    • 0 comments
    • 729 views
  • W.A.Rorie

    XIVth Legion build

    By W.A.Rorie

    So am I back from Indiana. I have to head back to move In-Laws into a Retirement Center, in a few weeks. And of course everything goes sideways at work moment I get back. So hobby time has been non existence. Silver Lining is LGS not get Saturnine until Monday, so I can get everything I need to do first i.e. my XIXth Legion and Exorcists  Call to Arms Vows, that I have not started. And won't have time this weekend.   I did start on building one of My XIVth Legion Commanders, not sure w
    • 1 comment
    • 805 views
  • zulu.tango

    Wrapping Wreckas

    By zulu.tango

    Hit the throttle on the Wreckas last week. I've been painting pretty slowly this year all things considered, decided to change that with this project. Finished up free-hand on a few items, got the squigs painted up, did the bases and oil washes last week resulting in a final project I'm pretty happy with!    I dug out some of the leftover terrain bits I had from the sector imperialis/Chalnath terrain. I put a fine terrain paste around those bits and then put in some sand to act as larg
    • 1 comment
    • 763 views
Prawa V - 50 Years On

Getting Freja into the Core

So, this one follows on from the Death of 329 blog, but occurs before it, as regards timeline. As with that one, it's not set in stone, this is all first draft stuff.   For some context, at the end of the previous story, the Resistance and bureaucracy ruling Prawa V made a kind of pact which benefitted both, but was ultimately not what either wanted. Reformed into the Concord. Read through previous blogs for more info.   This story takes place about 50-odd years after the fir
Prawa V - 50 Years On

The Death of 329

So, I am tinkering with a follow-up to the story I have written while I take a break before editing. I cannot recall who who said it (Oscar Wilde, maybe?), but someone said "kill your darlings." I've written this brief passage that follows on from the blog entry here:  Essentially, Krystan has programmed 329 to get ahead and provide a distraction for Freja so she can do what she needs to. There's no sympathy here. It is a machine. And it won't stop. Its only programming is to advance an
The gathering storm

The Hunt of the Night Rovfugl

I am so looking forward to completing one of my pledges - the Night Rovfugl, Barcza, and his team of Kasrkin. I will get this done this weekend. It is, quite honestly, one of the most adventurous models I have taken on. You ain't seen no Valkyrie yet, guys. And, in keeping with my mixing of languages and giving my vehicles some character, 'rovfugl' is akin to 'bird of prey' in Danish.   The Night Rovfugl flew blacked-out, its matte hull cutting low across the desert. No lights nor insi
The gathering storm

Jagieŀŀo inspects their prizes

The Resistance have finally captured the war machines they believe they require to make their stand.   Brutus, the Malcador, reliable, dependable the spine of their battleline. She will not fail them. She will hold the line, her battlecannon roaring, her sponsons blazing as she paves the way for the Resistance's advance. The Iron Duke, his twin Earthshaker cannons blasting holes in the enemy's fortifications. He guards those retreating and the wounded behind his massive blast shield
The gathering storm

Kaśnyk licks his wounds

I realise I've not posted a lot of late. Apologies.   This is the follow-up to the Resistance uncovering 329 and Kaśnyk and his squads attempting to prevent them. I'll be honest, not totally satisfied with this, but constructive criticism welcome.   =====   LV-426. The white-red-white livery of 2nd Company. Not a rescue bird but a retrieval asset. The paint was scratched, worn by desert grit, but unmistakable. Even before it touched down, the survivors of Kasnyk's s
Prawa V - 50 Years On

Searching for the server room

So, I've been enjoying writing my little vignettes for the follow-up story to my story of Prawa V. For those following, you already know 329. I hope you enjoy its redicsovery. I do have a weakness for 329. It, ultimately, dies, buying time for Freja. But, in the meantime, I am happy to let it terrorise people! Also, I do know this board censors naughty words, which is cool, but I have written Łaska to be, say....expressive! She's the only character who swears in my stories, but, if she swears, y
Baltarn

When the abyss stares back

Hi all,   Something a little different today. This is a small vignette from a game world I created some thirty years ago. It is not Warhammer-based, though it is strongly influenced by the mythos of 40K and the original Warhammer Fantasy. It's quite a personal piece. I have struggled with addiction in the past. The whys, wherefores, and whats are not really appropriate for this board, so, respectfully, I won't be discussing them. What I have made, what I have finally summoned the
Prawa V - 50 Years On

Overcoming fear

As said earlier, I have set aside Prawa V for a little bit. I'll return when I am ready to edit it properly. In the meantime, I've picked up the pen (or, more accurately, keyboard) and started on a sequel. I am enjoying writing my little vignettes. In this one, 329 is buying time for Freja to do what she must. She's the only one with the access and knowledge. Freja is terrified. She's a mid-level clerk. She is not built for this. But, our Narrator, the sergeant,  has other ideas. She eventually
Prawa V - 50 Years On

A debt to pay

I felt I needed some sort of connection between the Prawa V I'd written and the sequel, some 50 years later. It was difficult to choose who to pick, but I think I made the right decision. Our narrator and Łaska will serve as an introduction to Freja (see previous blog entry) and a gateway to the new story, before fading off into the sunset. They've had their story. It's time for them to step aside, but not before firing up the new one.   =====   The sun was low when we return
Prawa V - 50 Years On

The Beast awakens

Hi all,   I realise I have not written here for a bit nor have I started on my pledges for the Call To Arms (for shame!). Been a bit occupied travelling and with new job, etc. I've set aside Prawa V and my beloved Resistance for a little. I've finished the story and am going to go back in a month or so with a big, fat, red pen and edit, whilst mostly muttering "what the was I thinking?"   In the meantime, I've started on a sequel set some 50 years later. Here's a small sa
The gathering storm

Kaśnyk investigates

Apologies for the lack of updates over the past few weeks. Had a few things going on I won't burden you with. Now, it is time to return to the sciroccos and the sands of Prawa V. For context, I've already finished this story and we're about 1/3 of the way through. This is the first draft, so any and all constructive criticism is most welcome. I've not yet returned to it to revise for the second draft, so am open to ideas. (Yes, @W.A.Rorie, that includes your mini-Napolean complex Cyclops.)
The gathering storm

Mødet med nomaderne - Meeting with the nomads

Firstly, my apologies for any errors in my Danish. I am far better at Polish! I hope these three passages help to bring to life the different waves of settlers who arrived on Prawa V over the centuries. I also hope it deepens the mystery of Mona a little. As always, comments, criticism, etc. most welcome. Thank you.   If you're interested in pronunciation, it's Jagiełło (yah - gee - eh - woh - soft G), Stenrik (steen - rik), Kasnyk (cash - nik - yes, I am aware I've missed out the accent
The gathering storm

We need to talk about Marek

The vault walls were old steel, streaked with oxidation and reinforced with thick slabs of desert-cut stone. Lamplight traced long shadows across maps, dataslates, and supply manifests scattered over a folding table at the centre of the room.   “They found him slumped in the runner,” she said, voice soft. “Or, at least, what remained. No one heard the shot.”   “They weren’t meant to.” Jagiełło didn’t look up from the slate he was reviewing. He paused. "The round was designed
The first steps toward freedom

The Aftermath

Lieutenant Kasnyk leaned forward, monocle interface flickering green as he parsed the packet’s structure. A transmission, incomplete. Encrypted but within protocol. Origin: Marek Sobczak, Sergeant. Timestamp: early hours, local time. Location: near the southern ridge. That alone should have been routine.   But Marek was dead.   The initial report had come through the PDF relay chain an hour earlier — Sergeant Sobczak found in his runner, chest perforated by unknown fire. No w
Prawa V Background

This is not The End

So, spoiler for this - this is not the end I plan for my band of Resistance fighters. I was just tinkering with ideas for them, but I thought you might like to see. It's a short passage, but you can see how they are all bonded, even 329 spins up for the fight. Thoughts most welcome.   The sun didn’t rise that morning. Not properly. Just a bruised smear above the horizon, like the sky was ashamed to look us in the eye. We stood in the courtyard — the last open ground before the fallback p
The first steps toward freedom

Marek's Report

The wind tore at them as the Valkyrie dropped into the canyon, its engines shrieking against the tight walls. Dust and gravel whipped into the air, reducing the world to a swirling maelstrom outside the armoured glass of the troop compartment. Kasnyk stood, swaying with the turbulence, one gloved hand gripping a restraint overhead as he stared through the side viewport. The canyon was exactly as it had been described in the geological surveys — a deep scar in the desert, sheer cliffs of win
The first steps toward freedom

The Iron Duke

This series of three four passages is a lot longer than I have posted in the past and I hope you have the patience to read it. I feel it is quite revealing about our three main character, our Narrator, Mona, and Jagiełło.   Constructive criticism always welcome, of course.   -----   The engineers worked with steady purpose. The charges were placed meticulously, each bundle of explosives hugging the seams and structural weak points where ancient metal met equally anc
The first steps toward freedom

Marek returns to the outpost

Nowa Avestia loomed ahead, washed in the pale glow of the setting sun. Marek sat atop the Chimera’s hull, arms folded, eyes scanning the familiar silhouette of the outer walls. The station was as he’d left it — quiet, unassuming. Yet, as the squad dismounted and rolled through the gates, something gnawed at the back of his thoughts. The yard should have been busy. The 280th, ever a fixture at the outpost, were nowhere to be seen. No idle banter, no groups lingering near the vehicle bays. Marek’s
The first steps toward freedom

New orders for the 280th

The resistance outpost bustled with quiet activity. Low voices traded logistical updates, ration tallies, vehicle status reports. Jagiełło stood at the centre of it, near a long table littered with half-folded maps and dataslates. But when the coded chime of his personal vox-bead crackled in his ear, he stepped away without a word, moving toward a corner where the shadows gathered near the storage crates.   He pressed a finger to the side of his jaw. "Fennec. Report." Silence for a hea
Prawa V Background

Some notes on the story of Prawa V

So, I've started posting more full scenes on the story. I originally starting to create small vignettes from my originally-written passages but felt they were not conveying everything I was trying to get across. Currently, I'm about six months ahead, in terms of writing progress, of what you see here and I hope you are enjoying it. I never really intended to share my writing, but it is heartening that people enjoy it.   I've made quite a few breaks from the GW Genestealer Cult lore:
The first steps toward freedom

The hunt is on

The Fennec lay low beneath the dune’s crest, body pressed into the soft slope, the sand shifting slightly beneath her weight. Through the scope, the desert station played out its quiet, predictable routine. Marek’s Chimera lumbered toward the toll booth, weathered but functional, waved through without question. There it was — the familiar pattern. The complacency.   A flicker of satisfaction stirred within her. The hunt had always held its quiet thrill, but her breathing remained stead
The first steps toward freedom

The Fennec

Eventually, the council dispersed. One by one, the squad leaders filed out—quiet nods, exchanged glances, brief murmurs as they returned to the surface. Jagiełło left without ceremony, as he had entered. I remained behind for a few moments, alone in the cellar, the dataslate still warm in my hands.   "You spoke with conviction," came a voice behind me—soft, familiar, and unsettling in how near it was without warning.   I turned. Mona stood at the foot of the stairs, her postu
The gathering storm

The Resistance Gathers

A bit of a longer post today, but I couldn't decide where would be an appropriate place to break it up. Sorry if it's a slog, but hopefully you enjoy. Constructive criticism is welcome, as always.   The cellar was dry, dark, and cold in the way only stone could be. It had once been used for storage—wine, perhaps, or sealed grain back when the trade station was younger. Now it was quiet, its walls lit by low-burning lamps and the soft hum of activity above. The building that sat atop it
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