Just a little showcase of my growing Cult army, for those interested.
Lore-wise, they live on the planet Prawa V, the fifth planet of the Prawa (prah - vah) system, located somewhere in the arse end of space. Prawa V is an arid world, for the most part. Vast, cold deserts stretch from pole to pole, punctuated by the occasional small settlement eking out a stark existence in the harsh, barren landscape, serving as bleak oases for wanderers, nomads, and the rarely-seen Imperial patrol.
"There are three great Hive Cities on Prawa V; Prawa Prime, Prawa Secundus, and Prawa Ten Drugi, with Ten Drugi being the home of my brothers and sisters and me, the Miners' Guild of Shaft VII. The Imperial overseers rule the cities with iron fists with the myriad bureaucrats ensconced within their towering spires tallying each and every unit of ore mined and ensuring the managers of each operation are made aware of any shortfalls in production goals. Shortfalls are punished harshly, often by banishment to the sands rather than execution, as they are vital for the Imperial presence in the sector, despite no conflicts in the Prawa system for over a century at the time of writing. Historically, the Prawa system was the site of great conflict against long-forgotten foes, and buried beneath the desert exist great weapons of war, mothballed, dusted by the desert sands, awaiting the call to take to the battlefield once more.
Once approximately every three or four Terran years, Prawa V experiences her rainy season when torrential downpours serve to flood much of the land, drowning my friends and family by the hundreds as our mines are inundated by the deluge. This has been happening for centuries and the Imperial overseers, in their callous obedience to meeting their quotas, consider these acceptable losses. No protections are employed to protect us as we toil in the mines beneath Prawa Ten Drugi, nor little warning of the oncoming floods given. Such events can only occur so many times before a deep, festering resentment takes root in the hearts of the of a people and a hatred, a slumbering, burning ember awaiting a desert wind, a scirocco, to fan it into flames. But, until that time arrived, we toiled away, cowed by our oppressors.
Then, she came. She strode, with elegance, with grit, and with grace from the desert: Mona. She was a vision, such beauty, such hypnotic eyes, and a voice to soothe one minute and to bring alive the fire in our hearts the next; our scirocco. Slowly, she helped us organise. Small acts of civil disobedience here and there, barely noticed by the foremen, but it felt so good, uplifting, to take back if but a tiny sliver of control.
One day, some months later, she was joined by a cloaked stranger, He kept himself hidden, Mona explaining he, too, was abused by our oppressors and he wished not for us to see the extent of his scars. Still, she called him father and spoke of his sage wisdom and gentle nature. To begin with, we barely saw him and only then merely a cloaked figure in the shadows, watching while Mona coordinated our small acts of taking control. Then, one day, Mona took me aside. She asked about my family. She asked what I planned to do with my life and what I planned to do to make my family's life that much more bearable. I could not answer. What could I say? What could I possibly do for them? Our small acts would only go so far before the overseers and bureaucrats discovered us and exiled us to the desert, as much as those small acts fired up my heart.
'Family is everything,' she said, fixing my eyes with that ethereal gaze, 'and family is what you have here.' She moved her face close to mine, our cheeks lightly brushing together. I could feel her soft breath on my skin. A faint scent of cinnamon and cloves breezed over me. 'He is ready to see you, now,' her soft voice caressed my ear.
'Who?', I whispered.
'Father.'"
So, that's the backstory. I really enjoy the idea of the subversive nature of the Genestealer Cultists, the way they stealthily insinuate themselves into society, building like a cancerous tumour over the years, unseen until the day is right and they burst forth to purge their oppressors.
With the war-torn past of the world of Prawa V, there are vast subterranean bunkers filled with ancient weapons and the Cult, by infiltrating the Planetary Defence Force has gained access to them, hence why I have a lot of HH and Legends units in my display cabinet. Needless to say, I play Brood Brothers Auxilia, on the rare occasions I play.
The models here are painted to Battle Ready (base, ink, highlight) standard and I will go back over them once I've achieved my goals in terms of what I want to get painted to smarten them up and go over the finer details.
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![IMG 20210923 195036[740]](https://bolterandchainsword.com/uploads/gallery/album_15233/sml_gallery_84244_15233_458958.jpg)
