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Hello Fraters, This is a public release to advise that the Cabal of Dead Ink will hopefully be publishing its first PDF project for general availability through the Downloads section soon. (Pending Admin approval etc). The release will be an original short story set in the run up to the Badab War, featuring new or barely known characters, and will hopefully be the first in a series from different perspectives and POV of both the Loyalists and Secessionist forces. It will also contain original artwork (covers and maybe interior art) of the same subject. It will not be a graphic novel product. You can rest assured that all artwork will be board and subject appropriate. The reason for this notice is to not only create interest, but also to prevent any concerns of improper use of the artwork. You can see one of our previous Notices of Interest for Graphic Designers/Digital Artists. We have sourced work from a professional artist called Dan Morison, who has been very generous in allowing us to use his art for this purpose. Some of the artwork will also be commissioned (by me) so, in short, I either own it, or have permission to use it, and an email chain to provide evidence of what was agreed. Further, he will receive proper accreditation in the publications we make. The Cabal of Dead Ink would like to use this opportunity to highlight Dan's great style, and to give our public thanks to him for his trust and support. We would encourage anyone interested to go and see his stuff. We are still continuing with our plan in creating a BL Submissions Anthology, which will showcase the work of those who gave their shot to the recent Open Submissions window, but may have been declined, missed the window, or decided not to proceed for whatever reason. We are also working with Fraters within this forum to enhance and support our work with formatting and artistic skills, such as @TheTrans We look forward to discussing this further with any interested parties. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to PM me, or respond below, and I'll reply as soon, and as fully, as I can. I would also like to thank the help and support of the Cabal with getting us all this far. A lot of work goes on behind the scenes, for which I am eternally grateful. The Secession, and our Story, continues. Maz.

My place for all things Space Marine! I have started to built a small force for the Horus Heresy, after having abandoned Space Marines for almost a decade now. The Nuncio Vox in the new MK6 kit looks too 40k in my eyes , so I have built my own version, for my two tactical squads.

With the Space Marine Kill Teams rules firmed up (link goes to the last version I posted, though a few minor tweaks are described in multiple replies), it's time to expand. One of my favorite events in the setting, and one that has a definite focus on the Adeptus Astartes, is the Badab War (coincidentally, one of my favorite Chapters, the Exorcists, took part in that campaign). So here's my initial stab at Chapter Honours and skills for the various Chapters that participated in the Badab War. For the most part, I took the 6th edition Chapter Tactics that Forge World provided for these Chapters, and I adapted them to Shadow War: Armageddon. For Chapters that have identified Legion lineage, I used the skill progression from those Chapters as a baseline, though I tried to apply some tweaks here and there in order to introduce some (very minor) differences. A few of the Chapters simply use their predecessors' Chapter Honours (e.g., the Novamarines are among the Primogenitors, so I reasoned that they follow the Ultramarines rules exactly). Others are very close to their predecessor, but have minor adjustments to Chapter Honours or skills or both. And some were very distinct (e.g., the Executioners are almost nothing like the Imperial Fists). Page 1 (introduction and timeline) Hidden Content Page 2 (skills - Astral Claws, Carcharadons Astra, Executioners, Exorcists, Fire Angels) Hidden Content Page 3 (skills - Fire Hawks, Howling Griffons, Lamenters, Mantis Warriors, Marines Errant, Minotaurs, Novamarines, Raptors) Hidden Content Page 4 (skills - Red Scorpions, Sons of Medusa, Star Phantoms) Hidden Content Page 5 (Chapter Honours - Astral Claws (includes rules for Tyrant's Legion kill teams)) Hidden Content Page 6 (Chapter Honours - Carcharadons Astra, Executioners, Exorcists, Fire Angels) Hidden Content Page 7 (Chapter Honours - Fire Hawks, Howling Griffons, Lamenters, Mantis Warriors, Marines Errant, Minotaurs) Hidden Content Page 8 (Chapter Honours - Novamarines, Raptors, Red Scorpions, Sons of Medusa) Hidden Content Page 9 (Chapter Honours - Star Phantoms) Hidden Content I've tried to keep balance on par with the main Space Marines Kill Team rules, but I'll need other eyes to help me with that. I have an idea that these rules might include campaign rules, at the very least a series of scenarios to play out shadow wars (i.e., squad/team level skirmish battles) within the setting of the Badab War. These might potentially include a modification of the Shadow War: Armageddon campaign rules (though that might be nothing more than changing "Promethium caches" to "victory points" or "campaign points" or somesuch. That's way down the road, though. For now, the focus is getting these rules accurate and balanced. Any input is appreciated.

Ghosts From the Void The weaker tenants of the main Flee from their rage in vain, The vast menhaden multitudes They massacre o’er the flood; With lashing tail, with snapping teeth They stain the tides with blood. And so it came to pass, that in the 903rd year of the 41st millennium, a century before the Imperium would be shaken to its core and everything forever changed, Lugft Huron, Lord of Thorns, Chapter Master of the Astral Claws, and self-proclaimed Tyrant of Badab, did declare "just seccession" from the Imperium and, in so doing, ignite what was then the greatest conflict of our age. Alas, such was not to be, and if we could have seen what was yet to come within the next, darkest millennium, we might have counted ourselves lucky to be spared the horrors that came after Badab. Brother fought brother in a decade long war that saw seventeen warrior-brotherhoods of the Adeptus Astartes clash against each other in open conflict. Billions died and entire Chapters of Space Marine were condemned to crusades of Penitence, and even now, considering the horrors they would have to confront before that term was ended, it is impossible to say whether or not they survived. The war was brutal and bloody, with countless tales of equal parts valor and dishonor. These stories are too numerous to be told in full. The combatants found themselves embroiled in a dark cloud of violence the likes of which few had ever seen before -- at Sacristan, Angstrom, Crow’s World, and all the others, even unto Badab itself, at that final decisive battle. But the shadows hold no terror for those born of it. From the Outer Dark came the silent ones, those ancient predators, and where they reaved in Badab, nought was left but a red wake and silence. Like beasts of old they struck, and just as quickly were they gone. They were the sons of the Void Father, the bloody Nomads, the Maws of the End. They were the Carcharodon Astra, and with their coming, death did come to Badab. Badab Primaris 913.M41 Kawainga knelt in meditation in the stomach of the Nicor, remembering the battle. The traitors had been unprepared for the savage assault of the Pale Nomads, who had struck from the shadows. He had been there, at the head of the assault as his void brothers had launched their attack the only noise was the roar of chainsword engines, and then the cries of the Tyrant's human auxilia as they fell like wheat before a reaper. Then came the bark of bolters as the Astral Claws turned and opened fire on those they had once called brothers, not caring for the lives of the auxilia who may be caught in the cross fire. The bolts screamed through the night air, shredding the mortal soldiers and impacting against the unyielding ceramite of the Carcharadons. Kawainga struggled to clear his mind, clear away the screams of the soldiers, find his inner peace. Here in the hold of the ship, the silence was broken only by the beating of his twin hearts, and the rippling of the water he knelt in, disturbed by his shaking arms. He tried to push from his mind the memory of the Astral Claw who had forced his way through the wave of humanity, intent on seizing the banner that Kawainga had borne for so long. The Claw had fallen, struck down by the snarling teeth of a chainsword chewing through his gorget. Here in the dark hold, Kawainga remembered the end of the battle, standing among the corpses of friends and foes alike, drenched in gore, but victorious. He remembered the silent ride back into orbit, the joyless task of cataloging and honoring his fallen brothers. He wished he didn't. He wanted to revel in the glory of their victory, in the knowledge that they were doing the Void Father's work and that the banner he bore was a symbol of righteousness. But he couldn't, not when so many had died, and for what? They had thrown away their place by the Void Father's side for nothing more than avarice, and a desire to be free. Deep in the hold, Kawainga knelt in silence, pushing the previous night's events into his subconscious, and preparing for the battle he knew would come soon. Ancient Kawainga of the Carcharadons Astra Depicted as he was during a skirmish with renegade forces on Badab Primaris

In the Ashes of the Thorns And who are you, the Tyrant said, that I should bend the knee Twelve high Lords on a far-off world, ‘tis all that I can see By a gilded seal, or a silver’d one, a Lion has his Claws And mine are cruel and sharp, my Lords, more cruel and sharp than yours. And so it came to pass, that in the 903rd year of the 41st millennium, a century before the Imperium would be shaken to its core and everything forever changed, Lugft Huron, Lord of Thorns, Chapter Master of the Astral Claws, and self-proclaimed Tyrant of Badab, did declare "just seccession" from the Imperium and, in so doing, ignite what was then the greatest conflict of our age. Alas, such was not to be, and if we could have seen what was yet to come within the next, darkest millennium, we might have counted ourselves lucky to be spared the horrors that came after Badab. Brother fought brother in a decade long war that saw seventeen warrior-brotherhoods of the Adeptus Astartes clash against each other in open conflict. Billions died and entire Chapters of Space Marine were condemned to crusades of Penitence, and even now, considering the horrors they would have to confront before that term was ended, it is impossible to say whether or not they survived. The war was brutal and bloody, with countless tales of equal parts valor and dishonor. These stories are too numerous to be told in full here. But even among every engagement throughout the war -- the Fires of Sacristan, the Angstrom Incident, Crow's World, and numerous others -- there is one that stands head and shoulders above the rest by the sheer measure of its violence and the gravity of its consequence. I speak, of course, of the final battle, the Siege that ended the War. I speak of the moments after the Tyrant found himself to stand alone among his manse in defiance of the Imperium of a Million Worlds upon his shadowed Throneworld. I speak of the Siege of Badab Primaris, and the Fall of the Palace of Thorns, when Lugft Huron, the Lion of Badab, died, his Claws with him, and something terrifying and black-hearted born into his place. Badab Primaris 913.M41 Long and hard had been the war, and many had already died among the Chapter. Yet more would die before the end. The smoke rising from the south meant that Surraek’s force had encountered the enemy. Most likely he and his charge of the Chapter now numbered among the honored dead, if the reports of the ferocity of the Carcharadon Astra were to be believed. Bashar Reyne glowered at this realization. This meant that unless the unlikely happened and they were reinforced, or the impossible happened and Surraek had actually survived the assault, he was the ranking officer in this sector. Turning away from the spiked parapet he stood at, he faced his command. Two depleted Tactical Squads lay at his disposal, his own and Cinnebre’s. Not enough. Not nearly enough, he thought. The Sharks had been reaping across Badab for days now, leaving a red wake behind, and they would be here in a matter of hours. The Claws would die here, he knew. There was no escape. Not now. Perhaps years ago, in the early days of the war, there might have been the possibility. But after ten years of fighting those loyal to the High Lords, ten years, brutal and bloody and restless, there was no return. The die had been cast and nought would change the number it showed upon its upward facing, save for the sweet release of death. So here the Astral Claws would make their final stand – upon the surface of their home – and so here they would die, but not before they reaped a terrible price from their attackers. A feeling came over Bashar Reyne then. Throughout the brutal centuries of his life, from the day he was first chosen to be a Neophyte of the chapter, through his days as a Marine of the Line in Tactical Squad Kherradan, through Veterancy and through his days serving first as a Sergeant, and later the honor of Veteran Sergeant, it was a feeling he had never known throughout war and strife. Peace. Reyne very nearly smiled at this realization, that he had accepted his final fate, but outwardly the grimace upon his face may well have been chiseled from stone from all it showed. A careful observer might have noted a slight shift in his eyes with this thought, but been unable to recognize it. Such a thing requires context, after all, and Bashar Reyne was not a Space Marine known for levity, but rather harshness and ill-compromise. To his men, only one thing he had to say before the end. “Die well.” It was a promise, as much it was an order. As the lights of hive spires began to go out as a wave approaching, heralding the arrival of some great cthonian marine predator, and a deathly silence began to replace the sounds of gunfire in the distance, Bashar Reyne ignited his power maul and awaited his end. Requiescat in Pace Veteran Sergeant Bashar Reyne of the Astral Claws Depicted as he was after taking overall battlefield command after the death of Tyrant's Centurion Surraek, Badab Primaris <urban combat//Zone Mortalis>, 913.M41. Confirmed KIA. Body found dismembered.

Members of the B&C are challenged with the modelling and painting a power armoured kill team of Adeptus Astartes from select Chapters that participated in the Badab War. The purpose of this challenge is to find imagery suitable to decorate the finished Shadow War: Badab rules that will be published here at the B&C for download. The winning squad will be featured at the bottom of page 9. And the member submitting the winning squad will also receive some other small prizes to be announced later. Below are images showing the Chapters that participated in the campaign. The image on the left shows the color schemes as depicted in the original Badab War Index Astartes article from Warhammer 40,000 1st Edition ("Rogue Trader"). The image on the right shows the revised schemes, as depicted in the Forge World Badab War books. Click on each image for a larger version: Astral Claws Carcharadons Executioners Exorcists Fire Angels Fire Hawks Howling Griffons Lamenters Mantis Warriors Marines Errant Minotaurs Novamarines Raptors Red Scorpions Salamanders * Sons of Medusa Star Phantoms Tiger Claws * The First Founding Chapters aren't eligible because we want to focus on other Chapters. What to Submit: One image of your power armoured (legacy) Adeptus Astartes kill team, created per these rules (and these rules) and representing one of the eligible Chapters shown above. Your kill team may include up to 1 special operative (but doesn't have to include one, if you don't want). No Primaris Marines! The Badab War took place before the Primaris Marines came into play, so we're looking for legacy Space Marine models. Members may submit as many kill teams as they want, but may only submit one (1) image in jpg format of each kill team. The image should be at least 800 pixels across, and should be cropped to minimize wasted space. No backgrounds or terrain are necessary - a different image of the winning kill team will be used in the rules and that will be taken later. You can find tutorials on photographing your miniatures here. E-mail your submissions to @Brother Tyler at . Include your display name in the e-mail. Pictures of entries should not be posted or saved here at the B&C (e.g., in your galleries or in topics, whether within the Forge or your faction-specific forum). Once the members have voted for their favorite, then you can post WIPs and what-not to show everyone how you did it and how it came out. Deadline to enter: Midnight 29 July 2018. Basically, as long as it is in my e-mail inbox when I log in first thing on Monday 30 July, it will be allowed. The members will vote for their favorite and I'll contact the winning member so that we can discuss the composition of the image that will be used in the finished rules (and it will include either terrain or a plain background, so keep that in mind). In addition to the winning kill team, one or two other miniatures from among those entered will also be included in the finished rules. Selection of these models will be my prerogative, based on variety (i.e., the additional miniature(s) will differ from the winning kill team in terms of colors and lineage, along with whatever I find aesthetically pleasing). I'll also contact the creators of images for the additional Chapter(s) that will be used so that we can discuss final image composition. If you have any questions, post them here.

Well, I started a thread on the 23rd of July but with the DB crash and roll back dogs ate it along with my homework. The beauty is you now will get a lot of WIP pictures like some rapid time lapse across a fortnight without my inane rambling. That won't last The downside is there will be lots of pictures in one post, but not much I can do about that as I am having to play catch up. The Wall of Bronze Beasts Printed scans from my copies of the IA books for inspiration and direction. The First Five Gotta start somewhere and as I want half in Mk VIII a squad in my take on that armour was the obvious starting point. At this point I was pleased. Mk VIII Chests How I did Mk VIII chest so the abdomen cables aren't exposed. I obviously could only do so many before I ran out so you'll start to see white bits as I lifted a cast of my modified chest plates. Losing Focus Rather than staying on point I wondered what the second squad in MK VIII would look like as I intend to give them Tigrus bolt guns. Great but still not one squad built Focus still lost... And what they would look like with a plasma gun, Ryza pattern of course. Second squad again, still off with the fairies... Standing on things is cool Lorenzen said so (at least I think he did long ago). And he is right. And he is doing Minotaurs too! Although I won't have bare flesh anywhere on mine, too page 3 exposing themselves and helms are more menacing. Note I went back to squad one again at this point. I was going to make this guy the combat squad leader but didn't which has led to problems (see later). Arguably you could say I'd regained my focus... Captain who became Sciron ...but you'd be wrong. An idea that escaped and broke focus. On the original thread the consensus was the name Sciron suited him more than Carcinus. When I say consensus like one person responded. Both are spare names from the FW brass etch sheet. I like him, pity I'll hardly ever use him. He is more progressed now and I will finish him for Grotsmasha;s challenge as a "funsies". Finally the Heavy I stopped procrastinating and prevaricating and finally built the squad heavy weapon. Quite happy with this, so I put all my avoidance energies into the special weapon bloke. Sons of Medusa No, really. Whilst avoiding doing the flamer I started fiddling with Sons of Medusa. I should write a book called Focus Lost or something. Flamers need bunkers to burn So, Armies on Parade and themed terrain is well important, more so than having an actual squad built, so I am doing this in tandem. Big, isn't it? Note I will be attacking this as Minotaurs so it'll be ouch time for me. Fits with them perfectly of course thus me doing it. And the fact I had the FW Siege of Vraks moduler resin trench stuff lying about gathering dust. More on this later but I'll be picking up the foam board and ply tomorrow. The gang is not all here Nine. Sort of like the Nazgul except not. Flamer guy all sinister on the right side. Missile launcher man strangely giving out quests. Sinister Close up of too many to be a combat squad and not remotely loaded right even if they where. Dexter And too few for a combat squad but at least a close up of elusive flamer chap. Note I cannot make my mind up on the last bolter man, who may also be squad leader, so I'll make another nine and then decide which one goes with these guys and then give the others Tigrus, then vacillate for ages over who gets to be Sergeant Aristophane, and then avoid building their plasma gunner and heavy bolterer for ages whilst building a full 6 ft. by 2 ft. trench system. However tonight is gym, then selling my FW Reaver on eBay, and then adding bulbs to all their ankles.

Bloodied Waters +++++DATE OF TRANSMISSION: 910.M41+++++ +++++SYSTEM: SIGARD SYSTEM+++++ +++++PLANET/COLONY: MILITARY COLONY 29378 "ANDERA"+++++ Flee, for the love of the tyrant, whoever finds this message, flee. They came from the dark, clad in pale grey and black. We laid out traps for them, welded gates shut, isolated them but... it didn't help us at all, it made everything worse. After brief encounters in the lower levels, the invaders managed to destroy the generators. Everything is dark, it has been for two weeks. The heating has been defunct for nearly three days, I believe. It is hard to tell the time . Even the Mantis Warriors assigned to this station were no match for the Pale Nomads. We'd seen brutal Astartes, aye, the Executioners. But they were laughing and yowling maniacs that threw themselves into the breach, hungry for glory and blood. Those...those creatures were different. Silent and shrouded in fresh blood. Like revenants they broke free from the dark and tore us apart. They did not heed our initial warnings, nor the piss-soaked begging and pleading that followed. We were wrong. We were foolish to turn away from His light. I see that now. This is why they are here, these revenants. To collect the blood that we had refused Him-on-the-throne. http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170323_205449_zpslqamrcnl.jpg I remember how Ianosh and his regiment had tried to work out a peace treaty with them. He had tracked them to a habitation bay, which is where he also chose to confront them. Stupid moron. I was in safe distance then, I believe. Who knows how close some of them may have been. I'd seen everything through the inbuilt transmiter in Ianosh's helm. The creatures had stood still, covered in viscera and greasy tissue, their oily-black eyes locked on the men who were laying down their lasguns. In a matter of seconds, the men had died. Punishment was to be absolute. I could hear the crunching of bones and the tearing of flesh through the vox. I shudder at the merest thought of what they had done. That the Emperor would employ such savage beasts to punish us, who would've guessed. We all had long since capitulated, laid down our weapons, but to no avail. They won't stop until only they dwell in this darkness. Their shadow lies upon this iron tomb. Our tomb. My tomb. http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170323_205519_zpslamuh4rj.jpg I am starving. I haven't eaten in almost two weeks. Had I the chance, I'd eat one of the soldiers, no doubt. I am no strong man, I know. But I am afraid to leave. Sometimes I awake from my night-horrors, only to see the surrounding dark as I gasp and claw for fresh air. I hear them more frequently now, the hard clanging of ceramite upon steel is one of a kind, much like the hiss and the thrumming of tactical dreadnought armor. Never seen such a pattern. Colonel Baruhk had called it the "Tartaros" pattern, whatever that is supposed to mean. Old fool had died of a heartattack. Lucky bastard. The rest of us is stuck in this iron will, too desperate to fight, yet too scared to pull the trigger. Dear Emperor upon Terra, if you hear this, end me in my sleep, I beg you. http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/_20170323_205640_zpsndc3mvli.jpg My time is comming to an end. I can barely hold my tablet, not to speak of typing. I miss the sun of Badab Primaris. Well, I miss the sun in general. Haven't seen her in, I believe, a month's time. No light at all, not a single lumen. I've forgotten how water tastes, only thing I had was piss and blood. I am sick of raw meat, just can't stomach it. The warm, slightly steaming, acidic pile next to me is testament to that. I have no ammo anymore, but I have a knife. The desperation is too strong. I can't take it anymore. Emperor forgive me. ------------------------------------- Inquisitorial annotation: Subject was found with a slit throat, presumably self-induced. It is to be noted that, according to transcripts of the Red Scorpions chapter, the Carcharodons Astra had left this particular station 9 standard-Terran days after the initial assault. Who, or what, the subject had heard, is unknown. Fear and famine induced hallucination is possible. +++++END OF TRANSMISSION+++++

http://i.imgur.com/SwVkTqj.jpg http://i.imgur.com/uXLLZ3d.jpg Our Honour was Loyalty For more than five thousand years, the Astral Claws stood shoulder to shoulder with the finest of the Imperium's warriors, their deeds legendary and their honour unquestioned. Loyal to the Emperor's throne, they exemplified the ideals of the Adeptus Astartes, strong and fearless as the golden lion of their heraldry. It was their glorious record of exemplary service that saw their standard placed in the Hall of Heroes at the Eternity Gate and won them the singular honor of overall command to the Maelstrom Warderers. And above them all was Lufgt Huron, a true hero of his age, believed to be second only to legends of ancient past. The Astral Claws watched over the Maelstrom and paid the blood price of vigilance. When brothers fell and were drawn away, they remained ever watchful. When the caress of madness and corruption spilled into reality, they remained ever watchful. When their pleas for aid were met with not but silence, they alone remained ever watchful. Fate is a cruel and pitiless wheel that spins the thread of an eternal tragedy. Perhaps Fate might have written a different path if another had sat on the throne of Badab, but it was Lufgt Huron who took the throne of thorns and assumed the mantle of eternal guardian to the Ruin Storm. The Astral Claws stood at the teetering precipice of annihilation, of failure in their duty to the Emperor. In pride, the Astral Claws sought to defy the hand of Fate. In desperation, they did everything to uphold their loyalty and sowed the roots of their own damnation. Rains of Badab Primaris 913 M.41 Something was wrong. He ran even as he cursed under his breath, bolter held close to his chest, ceramite boots wading through mud and sewer muck in a naked rush for the next turn. His brothers were with him, though in truth there had been few of them left even before they made it back to Badab Primaris. Still the runic symbols of his helmet's display flashed the runic display of his squad over his right eye. Twenty sigils of Tactical Cohort Squad Haakon, twenty loyal warriors of the Tyrant... and twelve of those sigils were now dulled out, their lives and deeds of honour memorialized by little more than a recognizing that they dead. Their gene-seeds unrecovered, their names unwritten in the Archives of the Forlorn. In the distance he could still hear the resonating boom of the Sacrosanct Bell's toll to offer mourning to those lost souls in the far distance from the highest tower of the Palace of Thorns. That alone was to be his comfort, the elegy of the bell and the knowledge that he would be joining his brothers soon. "Cylca." The sound of his own name was enough to drag the Space Marine from melancholy, drift on heel as he darted into the branching path of the sewer tunnel and slammed his back to the wall. He knew the command without it even being given, the same routine check for ammunition one that had been played out for the past four hours. How strange it was to have known this entire war without worry for ammunition to now count every bolt round with a blessing in the final hours of their dying home world. "18 rounds, Sergeant. No spares." "One spare." A familiar voice cut in a fresh bolt magazine was tossed his way. Cycla caught the sickle clip and thumbed it his hand lightly. With a small and weary smile he offered a nod to Ichoma, his closest brother returning the curt gesture with that scarred MK IV helm. Forty-eight bolt rounds. Cycla offered a small vow that he would take the lives of twenty-four Star-Phantoms before the Sacrosanct Bell tolled for his loss as well. For the last four hours Tactical Cohort Squad Haakon and their kindred squads had been fighting a losing battle with the Star Phantoms in the sewer caverns, defending every passage and line that they could, laying down their lives in the muck and mud to keep the invading forces away from the Defense grids that lay beneath the Palace of Thrones. But something was wrong. In the past hour the ground beneath them had begun to lurch, not the deafening rupture of orbital bombardment or detonating structures above them, but rather something far deeper below them where the atomic generators of the hive cities still lay. Even now the earth shook beneath their feet, sewer water quivering in chaotic ripple patterns across the brackish surface. For a moment, while he time to recover his breathing and what remained of his squad took stock of their ammunition, Brother Cycla looked upwards, the ceiling above them cracked and buckled to reveal the tortured sky above. Heaven was burning, clouds of bruised and tortured sky obscuring all notion of sunlight, a storm brewing a deluge of torrential rain and cobwebbed lightning... Even amidst such a hurricane, their beautiful city burned and crumbled against the wrath of the Imperium, everything they had bled for, everything they had fought for with tooth and nail was brought to ruin and ashes... He closed his eyes even as the rain battered against his silver helm, emerald lenses staring unblinking into the weeping sky of Badab Primaris. He would die here... They all would. The question now was a matter of when and how. With a deep breath he opened his eyes once more and looked to his squad, surveying over each of them and lastly to his sergeant. Veteran sergeant Haakon returned his gaze for a moment, no gesture or words between them, yet the quiet passing of time was enough for them. "We need to stall them here." Sergeant Haakon began to speak, relaying the digital feed of the sewer system to the rest of the squad, his words rushed with little time for them left to remain here, lest they be caught off guard. Even now, as Cylca peered around the corner he could see no sign of the enemy, but he could hear their boots stomping through the mud towards them. "Veteran Squad Sjaal are setting up explosives at the joining passages up ahead, but they need time to reach the point and set the krak charges. We will stay here and stall the enemy for as long as we can." "I will stay." Every Space Marine, including Cycla turned to face Ichoma, the warrior standing in his baroque power, bolter crunching to his shoulder plate in a readied position. "With the confining space of the corridors, there's too many of us to make any proper use of our fire power. Our best bet would be to maintain singular sentry at this corner and the opposite to maximize the overwatch field. More than two would simply be a waste of man power. With respect, sergeant, the rest of you should move forward to take defensive positions further on or meet up with Squad Sjaal." In silence, Cylca looked down at his hand, peering at the fresh sickle magazine that his brother had offered him, staring at the exposed bolt casings as though they might offer him some form of parting wisdom. "I will stay with him, sergeant." This time it was Cycla spoke up, looking over to Ichoma for a moment who seemed rather stunned. "Like you said.. Two would maximize the killing field. You can't be at two corners, right?" Without a word, Ichoma offered another silent nod of thanks to his brother, the two warriors looking to their sergeant now for some form of confirmation or refusal... The obvious death wish was not denied. -------- Four. He had killed four Star Phantoms, a far cry for what he had hoped but even as the flashing runes warned him that he had expended the last of his ammunition he felt no sense of shame or lost pride. Bringing the smoking weapon to his forehead for a moment he offered up a silent thanks to the machine spirit before tossing it into the muck where the weapon disappeared beneath the brackish water. Drawing his combat sword, Cycla spared a glance over to Ichoma, his brother fallen silent after the second return of volley fire when a bolt round had caught the warrior in the eye lens and sent him down with a quarter of his head missing, slumped unmoving against the wall. Ichoma had taken six of the Star Phantoms down, and Cycla made a new vow that he would at least meet his brother's tally. He could hear them moving along the passage now, cautiously as they had no idea he had already run out of ammunition. Again he stared at the sky above through the broken ruin of a sewer roofing, the rain still pouring down from the sky above as a mother that weeped for the murder of her children. His breathing was ragged, his muscles ached, his wounds searing... yet it all seemed to bleed away in the rain, the water soothing him even though it never came into contact with his skin. He would die here, that much was certain. It is a death that is inevitable. But it is a death that that he had chosen. On his own terms. In his own way. Sword in hand. Fighting to the bitter end. Battle Brother Cycla of the Astral Claws Legionary Tactical Cohort Squad Haakon Pict-feed taken at the siege of the Palace of Thorns, sub-terranean sewer system Subject announced K.I.A. from close-ranged bolter fire He died with his blade broken and his vow kept. http://i.imgur.com/WSC93xa.jpg http://i.imgur.com/y4GbMiE.jpg http://i.imgur.com/XGnkEvh.jpg http://i.imgur.com/roFIoMN.jpg http://i.imgur.com/pc3iu5D.jpg

View File Space Marine Kill Teams - Badab War (SWA) Draft version of rules, pending decorations. Note that you will need the rules for Space Marine kill teams in Shadow War: Armageddon (here) in order to use these rules. Submitter Brother Tyler Submitted 01/27/21 Category Shadow War: Armageddon  

Well, been some time since I posted anything in here. Life has been super busy and honestly, I kind of fell out of 40k for a little while due to some distractions. Anyway, enough about life. You clicked this for Thulsa Kane, so going right to it. Needed to have the following items as mentioned in his profile: The Ænigmata Ferrum - This sacred tome contains the accumulated battle-wisdom and ancient secrets of the Executioners Chapter culled from many thousands of Terran years of chronicles. A copy of the Aenigmata Ferrum is carried into battle and further added to by every high mortiurge of the Chapter. Grehdalin's Bones - A relic of the Chapter, this Artificer Armour was created from the nigh-indestructible skeletal remains of an ancient xenos beast that once slaughtered an entire colony world's population one-by-one. Slain by one of the greatest of the Chapter's high chaplains in an epic struggle, the armour is said to both shield the flesh of the Chaplain who wears it, as well as remind them constantly of the high standards they are expected to set for the rest of the Chapter. Lifetaker - The Lifetaker is a massive black-bladed Power Axe of archaic design, carried by successive Chapter Masters of the Executioners and given to Thulsa Kane to signify his leadership of the Executioners during the dark days of the Badab War. Plasma Pistol Rosarius So first off. Cobble together pieces. Obviously used the MoE model thanks to its integration of bones, works great for Grehdalin's Bones! The Axe, to rep Lifetaker, was also a huge selling point for me to use. I shaved off any chaos-like symbols I could find and also made the axe a little smaller by shaving down from the top. Right forearm and plasma pistol is from Mk IV armor/weapons upgrades. Added an oath paper on the front and on his backpack. The pack is from Dorn, shaved down any intricate details to make it less "Primarchy". Left shoulder pauldron is from an unknown, I just had it in my bits box. Added a pistol holster as well. Next, some Green Stuff fun. I am not the best with it, but I decided to try some new things. I added a profile skull image to each side of the Axe. Added some chains to hang from the waist and for a Rosarius to hang from. The book is a custom book from previous bits and represents the Aenigmata Ferrum. I had to cut it in half and properly align them and add pages to it in between. The helmet, a Night Lord's Terror Squad Mk IV helmet was used. I added all the studs on it myself as well, with rivets from my bit box. I also shaved any of the stitched leather/skin robes threads and green-stuffed folds of the robe a bit to make it less "Chaos." Also added a small shielf on the breastplate I could paint the Executioners' Chapter symbol on. Primed version to show pieces all together for completeness Showing a close-up of the head and also I only painted one lens as the other one would be superfluous since his encounter with Necrons during The Battle of Carrion Deep. And the finished products and a final pic with another Chaplain I painted back in 2015 to show the scheme matching! Next WIP are some Star Phantoms: Left to Right - Heavy Bolter, Combi-Plasma(seconded to the Deathwatch at a time), Plasma Gun, P-Sword/Combi-Melta, Bolter Chainsword, and a Recon Marine w/Missile Launcer (Scout) C&C always welcome!

To the Inquisitor-Legate in command of Imperial Forces in the Badab War: Dear Inquisitor, This message will be passed on from one of your agents directly to you, I apologise for the nature of the delivery but I feel the situation requires it. It has recently come to my attention that Chapter Master Lufgt Huron will not back down from the position he has been forced into, to him the mere thought of surrendering what was given to the Chapter he now commands is impossible in his mind. Despite this befitting an Astral Claw it does cause me grave concern. Who I am and what I plan on doing is of no importance yet, however I understand that given the Betrayal at Grief that simple trust is something that neither side can afford to give. As such I have attached some note worthy locations that your Agents in those systems will be able to verify after knowing what to look for. I await your response. Regards, A Member of the Maelstrom Warders ---- ---- ---- Pic-Capture Sagan System Sagan III #~- Error Exact Location Unknown Administratum Complex ----- Upload complete ---- Unknown Astral Claw ---- Pic Capture Inquisitorial Stormtrooper Squad Attached to Inquisitor Kaylai Squad KIA Inquisitorial Retinue KIA Inquisitor Kaylai MIA ---- Audio Located Uploading --- Upload Complete Voice Matched Inquisitor Kaylai We forgot that the Astral Claws are Lions. Yes they fight to the death when they deem it vital, yes they fight in the silver and lapis, but we forgot one thing about them. They are Lions. They Hunt, and they will wait for their Prey to fall into their sights before striking. They are Lions afterall. --- End Log Inquisitor Kaylai didn't even see it coming, she was searching the genatorium sector of the Administratum Complex. She had a full squad of Stormtroopers, equipped with Plasma weaponry, as well as her own small retinue. That should have been enough. It wasn't. Five Stormtroopers died first, two of which had the plasma weapons, four had time to raise their weapons but only one fired before they were killed as well. It didn't fire, it cut, it stabbed and it bludgeoned with is limbs. Without stopping from where it had been hidden in the wall, they didn't hear the thrum of it's Power Armour over the generators and that was what killed them. Her retinue was dead, Commissar Freia died last. The Lion's combat bade shoved into her eye socket, her head was too small and a third of the blade protruded from the back of the skull. With a flick Freia's body was thrown to one side and Kaylai looked up into the Lion, seeing nothing but death. She didn't fire, her laspistol - however well crafted it was - would hardly damage the paint, instead she raised her Power Sword but the Lion just stared at her. 'I am not here to kill you, Inquisitor Kaylai. Agent to Inquisitor-Legate Jarndyce Frane.' 'Then why did you kill them?' She started to back away but the Lion stalked forward after her. 'They were in my way. You will come with me.' 'And it I don't?' It moved just as quick as it had done when it first struck, one second her Power Sword was pointed at it the next it was on the floor with her hand still attached. She clamped down on her arm, trying and failing to stop the blood loss. She didn't see the Lion with her sword. It pressed it against her forearm which now ended just before the wrist and she screamed at the pain. 'You will live.' Consciousness fading, she saw the Lion reach out and grab her. 'Someone needs you as a messenger.'

Musical Accompaniment http://i.imgur.com/SwVkTqj.jpg http://i.imgur.com/uXLLZ3d.jpg Our Honour was Loyalty For more than five thousand years, the Astral Claws stood shoulder to shoulder with the finest of the Imperium's warriors, their deeds legendary and their honour unquestioned. Loyal to the Emperor's throne, they exemplified the ideals of the Adeptus Astartes, strong and fearless as the golden lion of their heraldry. It was their glorious record of exemplary service that saw their standard placed in the Hall of Heroes at the Eternity Gate and won them the singular honor of command to the Maelstrom Warders. And above them all was Lufgt Huron, a true hero of his age, believed to be second only to legends of ancient past. The Astral Claws watched over the Maelstrom and paid the blood price of vigilance. When brothers fell and were drawn away, they remained ever watchful. When the caress of madness and corruption spilled into reality, they remained ever watchful. When their pleas for aid were met with not but silence, they still remained ever watchful. Fate is a cruel and pitiless wheel that spins the thread of an eternal tragedy. Perhaps Fate might have written a different path if another had sat on the throne of Badab, but it was Lufgt Huron who took the crown of thorns and assumed the mantle of eternal guardian to the Ruin Storm. The Astral Claws stood at the teetering precipice of annihilation, of failure in their duty to the Emperor. In pride, the Astral Claws sought to defy the hand of Fate. In desperation, they did everything to uphold their loyalty and sowed the roots of their own damnation. Pict-feed taken at the siege of the Palace of Thorns, subterranean sewer system Subject Unknown - Status Unkown ...... Commencing imagifier correction Processing...