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Ok, running on fumes and with no formatting whatsoever, but I finally got commissar Muran finished last night and the slates written up. Let's get started, shall we? HQ. Power: 6 Colonel Zevan Zenara: 70 points points: no: Name M WS BS S T W A Ld Sv 1 Col. Zenara 6" 3+ 3+ 3 3 4 4 9 4+ weapon: range type S AP D plasma pistol 12" Pistol 1 7 -3 1 (overcharged) 12" Pistol 1 8 -3 2. an unmofified hitroll of 1 with this profile destroys the bearer after shooting this weapon. power sword - melee U frag grenade 6" grenade d6 3 No wargear options Abilities: Voice of Command Hatred (Orks): may reroll all hit rolls against Orks Refractor Field Senior Officer Regimental Commander: This Model must be your Warlord, unless an <Imperium> <Supreme Commander> is in your army. This model grants a single Command Point if your army is Battleforged Mechanized Commander: This Model can issue orders while embarked in a <Cantorellian 23rd> or <Cantorellian SEAL Team> dedicated Transport (measuring ranges from any point on the vehicle) and is treated as being within 3" of a Vox-Caster. when doing so, these orders can only be issued to friendly <Cantorellian 23rd> or <Cantorellian SEAL Team> units. Warlord Trait: Old Grudges A consummate commander, and a lifelong mecnanized infantry officer, the Colonel was recently wounded in action prior to the attachment of my company to his regiment for the upcoming campaign. His current augmetic is of fairly high quality, and has not much diminished his reputed swordsmanship skills--which are only fair-to-middling by my own standards, but against his own men and other mortals, he seems to do fairly well. His strategies are also decently competent, or at least not glaringly incompetent. I trust his command instincts, and while a part of me chafes at submitting to an authority other than my Shogun, the more rational part of me makes it clear to me that he is capable of overseeing strategic command of our operations. Commissar Nykkole Muran: 5 power, 60 points No Name M WS BS S T W A Ld Sv 1 Commissar Muran 6" 2+ 3+ 3 3 4 3 9 4+ Wargear: Plasma pistol (see Codex: Astra Militarum) power lance: S+1, AP-3, 1 Damage. This weapon has D3+1 damage if the user charged or was charged this turn Abilities: Aura of Discipline, Refractor Field, Summary Execution (see Codex: Astra Militarum) Bionic eye: this model may reroll a single failed hit roll of one per phase. As I have previously noted in other dataslates, the senior commissar is not overly...anything to anyone in the regiment, except perhaps somewhat harsh. She maintains good discipline of herself and her troops, practices martial exercises as laid out in Imperial handbooks, and keeps mostly to herself. In my few interactions with her--mainly disciplinary in nature, dealing with minor pranks and inconveniences caused by her men--she has been curt, but there is something behind the facade of duty, which I am unable to discern. Perhaps her aide, Lieutenant Cythos, would be willing to discuss it with me or a Scout operative. But then perhaps not. And I have little reason to pry. Techpriest Dak-323/mk12: power: 3 points: 45 No Name M WS BS S T W A Ld Sv 1 Enginseer Dak-323/mk12 6 3+ 4+ 4 4 4 3 8 3+ wargear: laspistol, omnissiahan axe, servo-arm (see Codex: astra militarum) abilities: bionics, Master of Machines (see codex astra militarum) Sentinel Caretaker: when performing the Master of Machines ability, if the Target is a <Cantorellian 23rd> Sentinel, then you may treat a roll of 1 or 2 on the D6 as a 3 (so the model would regain 2 wounds). One of the more field-deployable enginseers the regiment employs. I am given to understand that Dak-323/mk12 (hereafter referred to as Dak-323, or they, by their own request) is one of the few remaining enginseers from the Dolrunus regiment. While they are a capable techpriest, I find that their most pleasing quality is their obesience to those they percieves to be above them in the pecking order. After three and a half centuries of being snubbed by all but a scant few Mechanicus personnel, I find an irrational pleasure in having one show me and my company the respect we deserve. Dak-323 has already, on my orders, effected repairs on thirteen percent of our current armoury, blessed and improved seventy four percent of our armours and weapons, and ensured of their own volition that a portion of fuel and ammunition reserves be transferred in excess of required Astartes-Mechanicus treaty. Of all the Cantorellian troopers and personnel, I think that I find them my favorite (aside from Pvt. Mellenkamp, who is growing on me like some kind of fungus).

"Everybody hold on!" yelled the driver, and the occupants of the Chimera felt themselves thrown around in their restraints as their driver began to take evasive action. The IFV shook as an impact rattled the ground--T'au munitions, to be sure. "All platoons, report in!" Captain Burke half-yelled into his mic. "First Platoon, no casualties, sir!" after a few seconds' delay. "Second Platoon, all accounted for, sir!" "Fourth Platoon, we've lost a squad but we still have our heavy guns!" "Fifth Platoon, this is Sergeant First Class Evenson. We lost our command track, but otherwise we're fit for fight." "Third Platoon, come in! Third platoon, report!" the captain asked. His adjutant grabbed his arm. "Sir, third platoon was leading the formation. There's no chance they survived if the T'au volley targeted on the center of our line!" The captain slammed the receiver down into its cradle. "Emperor damn it! We can't lose a fifth of our firepower and expect to win this!" "We can if we contact the Firepower, sir!" the lieutenant shouted. Burke nailed Hartmann with a glare. "And if I do that we surrender all the glory of this battle to the Dawn Blades. Except that damned crazy Apothecary, none of them have a stake in this. These frakking Tau have cost the Guard a lot of good men and I'll be ashamed to go to the Golden Throne and tell the God-Emperor we failed to exact vengeance for them. The Astartes stay in orbit! Now get me the Colonel on the line! We have our own elites and I intend to use them! And find out where the hell our sentinel support went off to!” "Aye Aye Captain!" Lieutenant Hartmann turned to his communications officer and began to contact Regimental HQ to see about acquiring some Scion support, and the accompanying air support. A short company of mechanized infantry against a numerically and technologically superior Tau battlewing. It hardly seemed fair. For the Tau. =][= Cantorellia=][= Captain Broklaw hunched his Sentinel down below a wall, dropping the frame of his combat walker out of sight. Volleys of light speared over his position as a hail of pulse fire came his way. Glancing down at his tac net, he could see that the fifth company was strung out behind him in a loose formation, their walkers dodging under fire. Smoke trails and tracer rounds denoted their return fire. Taking several seconds to reorder his thoughts, the captain began barking orders over the vox, instructing his men to prepare for a coordinated assault. After a count of five on his vox, the Captain's walker sprung from the ruin along with seventy-odd other light combat walkers, guns blazing. While the Tau Shieldwall had been well sited to defend against an attack, it was manned to only repel probing attacks and provide a warning in case of a concentrated assault. Such as this one. Just because the Cantorellians had been cautious on their approach didn't mean that they didn't have the means to break this defensive line in a matter of minutes. Volleys of missiles and light beams lanced from his troops' weapon mounts, and the gunrig that formed the left anchorpoint of the line shuddered and then exploded as a lascannon beam found a reactor and detonated it. With the gunrig destroyed, the Fire Warriors manning the wall began to fall back, executing smooth movements that would have put a group of Cadians to shame as they executed their retreat. The right gunrig continued to fire on automatic as it was abandoned, but a second volley of rockets silenced it as well, blowing the railgun off of its mount and destroying its hover-plates. As it died, however, it began to hiss a light green vapor, which the Captain instantly recognized as the deadly chemical weapon the sept had deployed some fifty years prior, and which had killed uncounted millions of guardsmen and a not inconsiderable number of Astartes already. Fortunately, despite its lethality, it was still a gas, and there were certain countermeasures against that. "CBRN protocols, now!" Canner shouted into the vox, sealing his Sentinel's vents as he did so. Screens flickered on and provided him a camera view of the battlefield, with a targeting grid for his laacannon overlaid on top. He didn’t like the techheads much, but they certainly knew how to coax the most out of a machine’s spirit. Within the next several minutes, Fifth Company had destroyed the remains of the shieldwall and run down the surviving infantry—mechanical walkers moved far faster and just as agile as foot-bound troops did, and the Fire Warriors had brought little anti-tank weaponry. There were a few casualties here and there, with lucky shots from pulse rifles finding joints or ammunition feeds, but on the whole the operation had been executed within excellent parameters. After the mop-up, Captain Broklaw called the platoon commanders together for a brief meeting. “Alright people, we’ve got our outflank. Now it’s time to support the Third’s assault. Second and Third platoons, you take the left echelon. Fourth and Fifth will be on the right. I’ll take first platoon and drive the spear. Relay the news it down the line, take a quick break and reload your weapons, we move in three. Third company’s got little time left before they hit the Tau lines. Any questions?” “No sir!” Was the general response. That was good. Everyone had been extensively briefed on the mission prior to departing on it. If anyone had had any questions, there would have been...problems. Two minutes and thirty seconds later, the entire company, minus three damaged or destroyed sentinels, was on the march again into the plains. =][=Cantorellia=][= The vox hissed as the Valkyrie gunship rattled through the air. Captain Jameson smacked the receiving button, opening the line. “SEAL team here,” he screamed, his voice cutting through the engine’s roar. “Captain, Lieutenant Hartmann with Third company, we’ve got some T’au arse we’re fixing to kick, if you and your team would care to join us. We’ve lost a platoon in the charge and could really, REALLY use a hand with manpower. Colonel’s already authorized your deviation from your current target. The Captain checked his datapad and saw a pending message from Colonel Zenara. “Lieutenant, I’ve got the approval right here. We will divert in thirty seconds. You and your commander will have five cans of whoop-arse in four minutes, fifteen seconds. Transmit your attack plans to my pad. Jameson out.” He cut the connection and opened another one to his platoon. “Alright ladies, we’ve got a hot drop coming up here in a couple minutes. Rack your slides and saddle up, people. You have four minutes to get ready, and then we’re in freefall to kill some xenos. Ride the waves!” “And die upon them!” Came the echo from his command squad, and across the vox. It was the traditional SEAL battlecry, rallying cry, and generic morale yell, and it never failed to bring a savage smile to the Scion commander’s face. He stood up and attached his hook to the drop rail, and cut the connection on the vox. “Alright boys,” he said, turning to his command squad, “looks like we get a chance to spill xeno blood today.” He drew his sidearm and gave it a quick once-over, double-checking that the powerpack was connected properly, before pulling his power sword out of its sheathe just enough to ensure it was there. “How many bluies we killing today, Captain?” Asked Staff Sergeant Piers. “As many as you can gun down with that plasma gun, Piers, and then some,” the Captain promised. “We all buttoned up, boys?” A round of resounding ayes answered his inquiry. “Alright then!” He turned to the ramp and keyed the built-in vox in his helmet, closing the visor as he did so. “Ensign Morgan, how are we for bullets?” “Sir, we have a full load of ammunition and we are two minutes out from the drop zone. Pucker up everybody, you’re going to want to wish you’re going to miss this. I don’t know what kinda flak these guys are going to have set up, but for damn sure what they’ve got is going to hurt bad if we get hit.” “Roger that ensign, I trust your shooting to get us safely to the ground.” “Yes sir,” came the reply. Jameson could hear the prideful smirk in his voice. It was well earned, of course. The only reason Morgan wasn’t a higher rank was due to his typical sailor’s habit of getting drunk and disorderly on shore leave. His combat record was otherwise impeccable, and had gotten multiple commendations for bravery under fire. There was a reason he was the Captain’s preferred pilot. =][=Cantorellia=][= Shas’Vre Me’lek Des’mon kept an idle eye on the skies above as his contingent of Hammerheads fired continual rail gun blasts against the horizon. The Gue’la tracked machines were coming across the field, belching smoke from smokestacks and smokescreen grenades. “Shas’el,” he asked, glancing down into the body of the hover tank, “when will the Gue’la be in effective range?” “Two minutes, sir,” his subordinate answered. “Very good. Continue firing as you have solutions. Release the drones from their mounts when the Gue’la come in range.” “Yes sir.” The Shas’Vre looked at the sky. Suddenly, there were some...what were those specks, exactly? And were they...growing larger? What the hell were those? =][=Cantorellian=][= Captain Broklaw smirked as his company emerged from the tall grasses. Whoever the T’au commander was, he was stupid for trusting another commander for protecting his back lines. Fifth company had blown through that defense line like it was nothing; but had it been connected to his own command he would have had warning of what was coming. He didn’t have that now. He keyed the command vox and let it cast static on the line four times, as had been prearranged with Third company. He then switched back over to the company vox and let out a ululating yell. It echoed back across the vox from a hundred xenocidal troopers as the company broke into a run in their walkers. Cries of alarm came from the Tau lines as their tanks and gunships slowly swung around to face them, as well as a swarm of drones arising from various locations across the battle line. A hail of gunfire rose to meet them as the Cantorellians advanced into a slowly increasing patter of pulse fire. For the most part it splashed off the armor, but some walkers took enough damage to put them to the ground. The trio of Hammerheads finally came about and began to open fire, their railguns sounding off bolts of death. A Devilfish caught several lascannon shots and caught fire before crashing into the ground and carving a furrow several meters long before exploding. As the firepower became too intense, Broklaw gave the order to scatter. The platoons broke away from each other, putting distance between them to avoid being caught in a crossfire. Once they were properly undercover, Candon Broklaw laughed as the armored first of the Emperor crashed into the now-turned T’au lines. =][=Cantorellian=][= “Alright, drop the ramp in three, two, one!” “For Cantorellia and the Emperor!” Came the battle cry as the sergeant’s men charged out the back of the Chimera. They rapidly took up defensive positions and began to open fire on the Tau lines. Whoever the commander was, Gunnery Sergeant Rainwater reflected as he shot a Fire Warrior in the back, he was an idiot. =][=Cantorellian=][= The wind howled around the Captain’s face as he hurtled toward the ground. HALO insertions had been a favorite of his ever since he’d first jumped out of a Valkyrie. When he was 150 meters up, he triggered his grav chute and felt himself be yanked up as gravity lessened its pull upon him thanks to the techpriests’ works. He drew his weapons as he reached fifty meters, and at five he killed the pack and cut a Tau clean in half with the downstroke of his sword. His command squad landed around him and promptly opened fire, scything down a fireteam of breachers who were caught off guard. A hundred meters away, third squad closed in on a Hammerhead and managed to get a melta bomb up something approximating a tailpipe, with a few plasma shots into the main gun for good measure. As a result, it shuddered twice before crashing into the ground, useless. Under a triple-pronged assault of mechanized infantry, several Sentinel troops, and the SEAL platoon’s firepower, the T’au line was quickly being crippled. Eventually, however, the T’au managed to get their lines in order, and the hovertanks managed to find some cover from the attacks. What ensued was a long, drawn-out firefight, with reinforcements trickling in for both sides over the span of two hours. Additional SEAL squads and Valkyrie air strikes against the T’au lines were counteracted by T’au air strikes and a few Crisis teams that were in the vicinity. Eventually, though, despite close to ten percent casualties, the Cantorellian forces managed to win the day. The commanders of the three strike teams came together to conference once the battle was over. =][=Cantorellian=][= Shas’El Me’Lek Al’wra double-checked his fusion blaster. He was eligible for a more advanced battlesuit, but the stealth capabilities of his XV-25 as well as the weapon it carried had been his preferred weapon for a very long time. He’d just gotten word that a batch of Gue’la regulars had broken one of his key defensive lines. It would require retaking. Allowing the breach to remain would threaten a key supply line, which was of course the reasons the Gue’la had attacked there. There was also the matter of the Gue’ron’sha force. Too many targets had already been destroyed by their forces. But he would deal with that after destroying the Gue’la regulars. =][=Cantorellian=][= Captain Burke quickly took command of the meeting—which he held in his command track—though he spent much of it moaning and muttering under his breath as a medic tended a pulse burn on his upper left arm. “Alright men, we’ve got our breakout. Regiment wants us to hold this position until the irregulars can get here and fortify the area, which means we have two days for the PDF to get their arses in gear and march in here. Captain Jameson, the colonel has authorized one squad of your platoon to remain behind and bolster our lines. The rest of your team is free to go and carry out the operation we diverted you from—would you stop that?” He snapped at the medic, who had just applied an antiseptic wipe to the wound. “Sir, if I don’t clean this the wound is going to get infected.” “Do you have to clean it this minute?” “If you don’t cooperate I can and will sedate you, sir, so that I can. If you want to keep operational command, you will allow me to do this right now.” “Fine.” The captain turned to the map table in front of him. “Candon, I want two platoons out as pickets, one platoon in reserve for mobile fire support, and your other two platoons anchoring our flanks.” He pointed on the map to indicate the ends of the line. “My company will array themselves behind these ridges, using the craters and wrecks as cover where needed for our Chimeras. Unfortunately, we’ve taken some serious casualties, so we’ll have to be concentrated somewhat to prevent a weak spot in our lines.” Candon leaned over the table, and looked at Captain Burke. “When can we expect reinforcements from regiment?” “First company will be arriving tomorrow night, about ten hours ahead of the PDF,” Burke answered. He quickly consulted his datapad. “And if we absolutely have to, there is a squad of Astartes assigned to our regiment who can be here in two hours by Stormraven.” “But if we do that we admit we’re not strong enough to handle it, or isn’t that right, Captain?” commented Lt. Hartmann. He was given a slap to the face for his troubles. “Lieutenant, I believe you have duties *elsewhere*,” the captain growled. “Aye sir,” muttered the Lieutenant, rubbing his bruised cheek as he left. Burke groaned as the medic finished bandaging the wound. “Alright sir, if you need that dressing changed, come see me. And if I see you outside of a chimera during a firefight for any reason except escaping it’s burning hulk, you and I are going to have problems,” he threatened. “Ahh. You’re dismissed, Corporal.” “Aye sir,” he said with a salute. The captain returned it with his left arm, his right occupied in a sling. “What sort of chemical measures can we expect, Captain Burke?” Broklaw asked. “We’re expecting the Silence at a minimum, and maybe some other experimental weapons as well. Tell your men to keep their masks on them at all times. One whiff of the stuff and you’re dead.” “Understood. I’ll have my men stay in their walkers as much as they can.” He replaced his cap upon his head. “I’ll have my boys start spreading out, but if you’ve got a tech priest or two laying around I’ve got some troops could use the help.” Burke nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Captain Jameson, do you need anything before your rides come pick you up?” “No, I think we have everything. Third squad will stay behind with you along with their Valkyrie, Captain, and they’ll be under your direct command til regiment decides otherwise. I’ll be departing in fifteen minutes.” With that he departed the command track, joining up with his waiting command squad. “A day and a half for the T’au to launch a counterattack whenever they thrones-damned feel like.” Burke sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sincerely hoped that Captain Broklaw would be able to scout and screen any incoming forces—it would mostly be fast-attack units, he figured, and mounted units like he had used to break the T’au’s lines. It would be a race of reinforcements. Perhaps he should have held more of the SEAL teams back. He had a hunch by the time all was said and done, he would have liked to have had them fighting along side his troops. Fin....for now.

What's this? A new army? Lord knows I shouldn't but here I am anyway! This will (hopefully) be a plog for me to update semi-regularly (which I am defining as more regularly than my dawn blades plog in the forge, which hasn't seen an update since the last iron gauntlet), for my Cantorellian 23rd (plus attached assets). The initial details of the regiment can be found here, but I figured this would be a good place for the models. So, here's a couple of models I painted a few years ago, that are the basis of the Cantorellian 23rd. The Squad, with a plasma gun and sergeant. The sergeant, with a space marine arm and a chopped-up lasgun for a laspistol. The idea with the camo is that it's ocean/beach camo, but as I'm not military I have no concept of what is actually functional camo, it just looks cool. Hopefully looking to spend a decent-ish amount of time here in the barracks.

The Cantorellian 23rd http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/igbeta2.php?b62c=@hsbXm_hr3uf.hS1g2@@@.hyvFn__@@@hyvFn___..h1VNSh1VNS_@h1VNSiakk7&grid=TRUE Cantorellian Guardsman in Standard Duty Uniform Date:...............072.046M42 Ref:................LBC//DAI By:.................Daimyo-Phaeron Lenoch Re:.................Astra Militarum - Cantorellian 23rd Thought:........."The Ocean is relentless. So are we." A curious hybrid regiment, the Cantorellian 23rd is an all-male unit, with twinned focuses of Sentinels and mechanized combat. Origins of the Cantorellian 23rd Founding: The regiment was founded in 200M37, ready and capable to take the fight to the Emperors enemies among the stars, as their predecessors had also done. Designated as Mechanized Infantry regiment and equipped for amphibious assault operations, the Cantorellian 23rd prepared to move out. First Campaign: In 202 M37, after a period of training and preparation, the Cantorellian 23rd was deployed to the desert planet of Arkanit, a critical mining planet that sourced material for a nearby forgeworld, that had come under assault by the perfidious Eldar for reasons unknown. The planet was subject to a multiregimental war, with Imperial forces scattered across the planet in an effort to deny territory to the Eldar, secure mining facilities, and find the xeno base of operations. Once they arrived in-system, the 23rd was deployed as security for a Valhallan rocket artillery regiment that came under frequent attack, at a base in the middle of nowhere, where the Valhallans were well-positioned to shell any battlegrounds anywhere they chose. However, once the Cantorellians had spent some time on the planet, they began to chafe at the lack of combat that they were undergoing. The Valhallans, miserable as they were under the blazing heat of the desert, at least could and did engage in battle, launching volleys of rockets intermittently at Eldar actions for fire support. The Cantorellians, though, did not see combat at all for more than three months, outside of blunting scouting parties of only a few Windriders. Thus, aching for battle and a way to prove his regiment as both capable and fearsome, the Colonel devised a plan to get some, and perhaps end the conflict. When next the Eldar scouting parties arrived at the artillery base, expecting only the furious but measured reprisal that usually greeted them, the Windriders were instead greeted by a hail of flushing fire and the roar en masse of Chimeras and Valkyries spinning up their engines for a pursuit. Quickly turning about, the Eldar began to flee, chased by the growling machines of the Cantorellian 23rd. Following an hourslong chase to the edge of the continent, towards the planets sole ocean, with the Chimeras of the Guard following behind and the Valkyries of the Stormtroopers tracking the Eldar from above, the Windriders turned out over the ocean, seeking to lose the Cantorellians. Undeterred, the Cantorellians charged into the ocean, their Chimeras rigged as usual for amphibious operations. The eldar quickly departed, running along the coast in an effort to ditch their pursuers. However, with the air cover of the Tempestus' gunships, the Eldar could not escape the view of the Imperium. The Eldar were tracked to a cave system some one hundred miles up the coast, where they disappeared from aerial view. With hardly any hesitation, once they arrived the Chimeras of the 23rd drove headlong into defensive fire onto the beach, offloading their contents into what became a brutal cave fight that lasted for several hours, turned in the Imperiums favor with the arrival of the Tempestus by way of a hidden passage to the surface, just large enough for a man, outflanking and destroying the eldar webway gate that they used to reinforce their troops, as well as an escape point. After another hour or two of intense fighting, the Eldar were subdued and defeated, with moderate casualties on the part of the Imperials, including 10 percent of the Tempestus force. At the conclusion of the campaign, which mainly involved cleanup of the remaining forces and investigating in the Eldars goal on the planet--a task left to the capable hands of the Inquisition--the Colonel was commended for his quick thinking, and then assigned to a Generals staff command, where his bright ideas could be filtered through Imperial bureaucracy to prevent more such harebrained schemes like abandoning ones allies on a chase for glory. The Major was promoted to fill his place, and he went on to lead the regiment in several more uneventful campaigns before succumbing to an Eldar Brightlance when his command vehicle exploded. 362.M39: In a rare stroke of Munitorum competence, the Cantorellian 23rd find themselves deployed to wipe out a chaos uprising on an ocean planet known for its undersea promethium reserves. The 23rd, with support from the Cantorellian 31st Armored, find themselves instrumental in staging an amphibious assault on the heretics main base, crushing it in a concentrated blow after three months of Naval bombardment. 739M41: The Cantorellian 23rd find themselves under attack by a Necron raider force while on Garrison duty on an Adeptus Mechanicus forgeworld. The 23rd will drive them off, with heavy casualties. They will not see the Necrons again in the lifetime of any man in the regiment. 992M41: The Merging Deployed to the hive world of Varru IV as part of a defensive task force, in preparation for a Tyranid invasion. Not a week after the regiments arrival, and with hardly any time to spare before the Tyranid fleet darkens the Mandeville point of the Varrunis system, a Genestealer Cult uprising took place, throwing Varru IV into chaos. As a recently arrived regiment, the 23rd was one of the few units completely uninfected, they spent several days policing and eliminating infected Guard regiments. One regiment, a Sentinel regiment, from the world of Dolrunus, had approximately half of its regiment infected with genestealer infestation due to its prolonged stay on Varru IV, in support of a Knightly house from Dolrunus. After clearing the remaining genestealers from the command structure, only about a third remained after the regimental infighting. The 23rd took command of the situation, absorbing the Dolrunus regiment into their table of organization. After the fighting was over, and the tyranids were driven off, the Cantorellian 23rd permanently absorbed the Dolrunus regiment, adding several Sentinel squadrons to their ranks, along with a hefty cache of bionics and other mechanicus tools. The 23rd requested an official redesignation from the Cantorellian gubernatorial house, who granted both the change from Mechanized to Mechanized-Sentinel and a commensurate equipment increase. The Cantorellian 23rd then spent a few years on a munitorum training planet, establishing command and control protocols, combined tactics, and a plethora of other integration exercises, resulting in an almost-seamless regiment at the end of it. 012.M42: Swimming in Shark-Infested Waters The Cantorellian 23rd, recently having acquired Commissar Nykkole Jayn, is attacked in transit by a Necron warship. The 23rds transport ships were boarded, but the attackers were repelled at heavy cost, and the warship itself was driven off by a Dawn Blades Battle Barge, bearing three companies of Astartes. Following a three month campaign, the 23rd with support of the Dawn Blades tracks down and destroys the moon base that the warship came from. The 23rd then returns to Cantorellia for resupply, with promise of future cooperation between the two organizations. Organization The 23rd operates nominally at 8 companies, broken down into three Sentinel companies, four mechanized infantry companies, and a headquarters company. However, due to manpower constraints, one company, usually the 8th, is typically critically undermanned, and only nominally available for combat operations. Any men in this company are usually assigned to the Headquarters company for additional security, liaison work, specialist work, and additional bodies where needed. It is a rare day indeed when all 8 companies are at full fighting strength. The Headquarters company houses much of the Regimental support staff, as well as a Militarum Tempestus stormtrooper platoon, courtesy of the Cantorellian gubernatorial house, which mandated that each regiment would maintain such a force, and granted by gubernatorial decree the necessary rights and equipment for such. It also liaises with other Imperial organizations, and typically finds itself in command of or acting in concert with armored assets, abhuman auxiliary units, and whatever other assets are in theatre and available for deployment with the Cantorellian 23rd. Homeworld and Cultural Influence Cantorellia is an ocean world, with far less landmass than any other habitable planet in the system and subsector. Despite the disadvantages the planet poses to Imperial supremacy, it has done well for itself in the six millennia since it has been settled. Imperial governance has turned the disadvantages of the planet into vast resources, using the many fish and other seafood to supply food for other planets, and taking vast quantities of water from the planet's oceans to other planets, for hydration purposes, industrial uses, or weapons production, whatever is needed. In order to balance the loss of water versus the needs of the planet for water, excess elemental gas from other planets is transported to Cantorellia, where chemical processes and arcane sciences turn the gas back into the liquid that all human life requires. In addition to seafood and water, the planet also exports men, as all Imperial planets do, in the Imperial Tithe. So it was in early M37 that the Cantorellian 23rd was tithed and created, designated an amphibious assault/mechanized infantry regiment of two thousand men. Cantorellian regiments are often exported with enough dried, tinned seafood to keep them fed for decades or more, with regular shipments in resupply and reinforcement convoys. As a result of this, few find Cantorellians anything approaching pleasant to be around, with the smell of fish always permeating their breath and their equipment. However, when called upon for formal events or to host high-ranking Imperial officials, the regiment's cooks find themselves capable of what they consider to be great feats of oceanic delicacy, and most who dine with the regiment's officers at such events would tend to agree, though there are some dishes that no one but Cantorellians will touch. On special events, like Founding Day or the conclusion of a major campaign, the rank and file of the regiment will partake in these feasts, but these events are rare, and never occur more than once or twice a year. Combat Doctrine -armored sentinel platoons will generally provide outrider support to mechanized columns -scout sentinels tend to outflank the enemy, as well as provide reconnaissance to the regiment. they work to drive the enemy to a battle with the regiment's main formation, for hammer and anvil maneuvers -due to their homeworld's watery state, the Cantorellian 23rd, and all Cantorellian regiments, are adept at amphibious warfare, though the addition of walkers does tend to complicate matters, with limited waterproofing equipment available to the regiment, one or two companies usually have to be airdropped into the battlezone or shipped on dedicated barges to ensure they reach shore -in concordance with typical Imperial Doctrine concerning mechanized units, the 23rd is often deployed alongside armored regiments to provide assistance in whatever manner is needed. One regiment that the 23rd deploys alongside with somewhat unusual frequency is the Cantorellian 31st Armored -due to their relationship with their homeworld, where it is a constant struggle between the ocean and its inhabitants, where giving up is fruitless and often permanent, Cantorellian regiments almost never surrender or retreat, and rarely have disciplinary issues when it comes to desertion. As a result, a typical unit will only have two or three commissars. The 23rd has two, one at the regimental level, and one to oversee the first company. Personnel Author Daimyo-Phaeron Lenoch is the commanding officer (Daimyo, by chapter tradition due to his membership in the Samurai company prior to his officer posting) of the Dawn Blades Second Company, and renowned across the chapter for successfully penetrating the Necron tomb world of Seranon to retrieve several Adeptus Mechanicus Magi, at great cost to his company and in spite of the burning enmity between the chapter and the Adeptus Mechanicus. He also succeeded in stealing several pieces of Necron technology for study and analysis by chapter Techmarines and Legio scientists. The moniker 'Phaeron' was added to his title after this feat, in mocking of the Necrons he had defeated--he was their Phaeron, their master. A capable swordsman and a skilled tactician, he fought for four decades in the Dawn Blades Samurai Company before ascending to the rank of Daimyo following the death of the Second Comapny's previous commander. He visits the Legio Fortress on occasion, though how he is capable is currently unknown by the Legio, as his Strike Cruiser was last noted on the far side of the Noctis Aeterna. <<description of the regiment's typical personnel and its TO+E>> -due to their deep. intrinsic relationship with their homeworld, where it is a constant struggle between the ocean and its inhabitants, where giving up is fruitless and often permanent, Cantorellian regiments almost never surrender or retreat, and rarely have disciplinary issues when it comes to desertion. As a result, a typical Cantorellian unit will only have two or three commissars. The 23rd has two, one at the regimental level, and one to oversee the first company. Most Guardsmen of the 23rd have, as is typical, a deep tan or dark skin, as the sun beats down harsh on the people of Cantorellia. A tiny minority of the regiment, however, boasts a pale, almost pasty skin, from those few men tithed who spend their whole lives belowdecks on ship, or in the massive desalination plants that line the oceans of Cantorellia Many of the Guardsmen spent much of their formative years on fishing boats, and grow up strong and swarthy, with mouths to match. While most Guard regiments have the typical Gothic lexicon of swears and curses, when angered Cantorellian troopers will often spill forth a tide of invective that can leave other Imperials gobsmacked at the impropriety. On rare occasions, when in conflict with xeno forces capable of understanding the tirade, some Cantorellian soldiers have been known to frighten their enemies with their creative and crude use of language, and the sheer anger that backstops the words. Cantorellian troopers are issued three types of uniforms, though only two of them, the combat uniform and duty uniform, are worn on anything approaching a regular basis. The combat uniform consists of a set of fatigues and flak armor with a blue, light blue, and sand-color camouflage pattern. The duty uniform is a monochrome blue, with a hat to match (attached to this datafile please find an image of a Cantorellian trooper in duty uniform). The dress uniform is a deep ocean blue, with sky-blue highlight and trim, and some gold detail for those of the rank of sergeant, captain, or above, for enlisted and officer respectively. The dress uniform is required for high-profile events like Founding Day, as well as parades, victory celebrations, and is authorized for use outside of these events, but the opportunities for such are quite rare, as the Cantorellian 23rd spends little time in civilian sectors, as befits a regiment of the Imperial Guard and its duties. The Dolrunus regiment, upon their subsuming into the 23rd, brought with them a cache of both bionics and Skitarii weaponry. Such equipment is often given to those troopers who prove themselves worthy of such tools of war, most often veterans and sergeants. Certain line troops who distinguish themselves in battle or discipline may earn the right to carry such arms into battle, or receive a replacement body part if circumstances necessitate it. Notable Personnel -Colonel Zevan Zenara: Current commanding officer of the Cantorellian 23rd Mechanized/Sentinel Regiment. Lost his left arm in an ork Kommando attack on his regimental Command Post. Despite his wounds, and with the aid of a young medic who saved his life, Zevan proceeded to dispatch most of the ork assailants, before the quick-reaction force was able to respond and deal with the threat. Fitted for an augmetic arm from the regimental cache shortly afterward, and awarded the Medallion Crimson at the conclusion of the campaign. -Major Crysis Rand: Second in command of the Cantorellian 23rd, and very much a man of the line troops. Spends much of his time with the rank-and-file of the regiment, ensuring they are in good fighting trim and capable of completing their mission. I suspect more than six in ten men of the regiment would take a lasbolt for him, which in my experience is a ratio far in excess of most Guard forces and commanding officers. -Captain Candon 'Kanner' Broklaw: Great grand-nephew of General Ruput Broklaw of 597th Valhallan Ice Warriors fame, the Captain commands the Sentinel forces of the 23rd, often leading the charge in his own walker. Earned his nickname from the sheer number of Killa Kans he destroyed in close quarters with his Sentinel chainsaw--or so I'm told. Guard tales are so often sensationalized, and I haven't the time to attempt to ferret out the truth. Nonetheless, he is a competent commander, though he does have a bit of a wild streak. -Regimental Colour Sergeant Lawrence James: To attempt to describe the Regimental Colour Sergeant is a notably difficult task, primarily due to his reticence to answer any inquiries that are not directly related to the mission at hand. This includes, but is not limited to: his favored hobbies; his preferred alcoholic beverage; anything about his family (or lack thereof); questions of his preferred devotional prayer; where and how he acquired the swagger stick he uses as a melee weapon, despite having been issued a chainsword; what hes doing that evening, and would the sergeant like to have a meal with the Astartes officer asking him the question. However, when a reasonable concern is brought to him, the Regimental Colour Sergeant ensures it is taken care of, be it additional supplies from the quartermaster, questions of enlisted morale, tactical and strategic guidance for new officers, or simply a man who backs up his men over outsiders. Not many soldiers like the RCM as a person (mostly owed to the fact he hardly allows himself to exist as a person), but I have not met a man in the regiment who does not respect the RCM. -Regimental Commissar Nykkole Muran: Currently the chief commissar for the Cantorellian 23rd. She is new to the unit as of this writing, within the last five years. Her predecessor was killed in an unfortunate danger close accident--or so it's claimed by those few troops I've been able to speak of. Wields an heirloom power lance entrusted to her Scholam by her father, and has an augmetic eye from a stray lasbolt, gained while fighting a rebellion on her first posting with a Cadian unit two years before her transfer to the 23rd. While she is not well-liked, and carries a harsh demeanor, she is generally regarded as a fair disciplinarian, according to Militarum guidelines. -Lieutenant Cythos: Personal aide to Commissar Muran, and the second of two females in the entire regiment. She requested a transder to the 23rd to serve as Commissar Muran's adjutant, following the pair meeting on a Munitorum hub planet. Her mother was a decorated tank commander in the Cantorellian 31st Armored regiment, who earned commendation for a decisive maneuver that turned the tide against a horde of chaos cultists. Lt. Cythos herself is quite the hero as well, according to the citation I pulled from regimental records, indicating a fervent assault against tyranid swarms even after her unit was almost entirely wiped out, earning among other planetary honors the Triple Skull, as one of four surviving members of the Cantorellian 151st Infantry Regiment (citation attached). No one knows her first name, and it is not listed on any of her medal citations, promotion warrant, medical records, or personnel rosters. Nevertheless, it appears she manages to navigate the regiment skillfully and without issue, being both immediately recognizable and with some degree of Commissarial authority, in addition to her own rank. -Private Jones Mellenkamp: Though it pains me to do so, I suppose I must at least mention my attache for the impending campaign. He seems eager to please, but for Throne's sake the boy is hardly 18 standard years old. Manpower may be the Solis-Imperator's currency, but I'm not sure this note is worth spending right now. A couple of years, perhaps, and he'll be a proper soldier. But not quite yet. Personal Notes I have observed that an air of tension exists between the Mechanicum priests and support personnel and the command staff of the regiment. From what I have learnt of the Sentinel regiment's homeworld, the underlings don't trust the higher-ups very much, and when the 23rd absorbed the other regiment, they absorbed certain cultural norms as well. Cantorellian tradition demands absolute loyalty to those in command, as it is the only way to survive. Dolrunus tradition dictates absolute loyalty to those in command by force and on pain of punishment. The command staff orders them on expectation, and the Dolrunus men and mechanicus personnel obey out of fear. Commissar Tred Pond, deceased about fifteen years now, was a large part of ensuring that there was some modicum of understanding between the factions, though I understand he may have eaten an 'accidental' mortar shred shortly after beginning the integration work--I'm given to understand he was not well liked. Interaction with the Legio currently none -one private jones mellankamp as an aide-de-camp, advisor, and envoy between myself and the 23rd for an upcoming campaign. Related Articles Currently none. Will update as further intelligence arrives at the Legio. Placeholder removed. Enough ideas in place now.

I've got my Iron Gauntlet batrep ready to go! I will be sharing a game I played against myself between my Guard and my Necrons. I played somewhat fast and loose with the rules (no dynastic codes, no CP, none of the silly little command protocols, I barely touched orders, i ignored minimum game board size as you will likely see) as this was mostly a narrative game. The two rhinos are proxies for basic-loadout chimerae, which I felt were needed for both balance purposes and lore reasons. But first, lore! -- “This moon is barely habitable to all life, Warden,” grated Disgraced Prince Rakszan. “How are these...hew-mons...making battle upon it?” Cryptwarden Merisekh shook her head. “It is unknown, Prince. Perhaps they have adaptations.” “Adaptations? For a planetoid with a thin atmosphere and radiation blasted? They must be exceptionally strong adaptations. The Necrontyr, they would have died here quickly, weaklings that they were. Tell me, how did your master claim this place prior to biotransference?” “Our master,” Merisekh said, emphasizing the nature of the new relationship between Rakszan and her Phaeron, “Acquired this moon when it was still in orbit of a secondary coreworld and therefore held a stronger atmosphere. 60 million years is sufficient for such things to degrade, especially when coupled with Aeldari interference,” the Cryptwarden spat. “They are truly detestable,” Rakszan agreed. “Still, we must repel these invaders from our lord’s holdings. What appears to be their objective?” Merisekh conjured a display, showing the strategic situation of the matters at hand. “A techno-viral listening strain has confirmed that what appears to be the main thrust of their assault is targeting this secondary tomb complex entrance;” she indicated with a gesture, “and there are harrying strikes occurring here, here, and here.” Rakszan leaned forward from his throne--a vanity, perhaps, but such was a thing all but a very rare few Necron nobles were prone to--and reviewed the map. “Our forces do not appear to be mounting much of a defense.” “Our forces are limited, Prince. Whoever is commanding these hew-mons is intelligent, and grasps well the concept of attacking where the enemy is not. We cannot respond to all of these attacks at once.” “And why not?” he demanded. “Because whatever lord or lordess fished you out of the hyperspace hellholes wasn’t completely in our Lord’s favor at the time, and therefore he was predisposed to dislike you. As such, you were given limited resources, which were in no particular order, two legions, a hunting party, three raiders and a light cruiser, and oversight. That is the extent of your resources, my lord, and if you are incapable of fulfilling our master’s demands then I am well within my rights to sever this partnership.” Her claws drummed pointedly on the hilt of her relic gauss blaster. “Now, if you do not wish to have that happen,” Merisekh growled, “you will listen to my advice like a good noble, and not whine when things do not go your way. “...What. Do you. Suggest.” he ground out. “I recommend pulling our forces away from the outlying defensive posts. They are spreading us too thin, and this mechanized force is capable of smashing through them. A more concentrated stand at the tomb entrance should better allow us to withstand the assault.” She cocked her head. “Of course, even then, you will be required to stand in defense of this complex yourself.” It was almost said as a challenge. “Of course.” He wasn’t going to rise to it, however. Rakszan had enough problems without adding the anger of his watcher to them. And now, the army shots. I may misplace a couple shots, but I think I will largely get them in chronological order at least. I was also certain I had a deployment pic but I guess not. Turn One Guard: The Cantorellian 23rd took the first turn as slaves to narrative. Chimeras advance. Limited Leman Russ fire and sentinel lascannon support kill one scarab. Turn One Necrons: The Necrons advance. The Guard thought they were facing the bulk of the remaining defenders, but they were all deceived, for another entrance to the tomb was made. Another phalanx of necron warriors appeared in the heights above, where ancient ruins once stood. They opened fire, their weapons plinking off the armor of the Leman Russ. Their comrades were more successful, dealing concerning but not serious damage to the chimera with the help of the ascendant prince. The scarabs closed the distance and encircled a Chimera, eating into its armor.