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  1. 1510 downloads

    First part of a commission by Atia, Grand Master Laertes, and depthcharge12. Incaladine Mechanicum logo in black, white, red, and yellow.
  2. "The Legio Vorus, Devourers, hailing from the Forgeworld of Xerox IV. Never amongst the most illustrious Legios, Vorus nevertheless accrued a reputation of consistency and dependability. This was largely owed to their dogged adherence to what they termed "the Great Algorithm", a marginal creed amongst the Cults Mechanicus." Legio Vorus Walks!
  3. CLASSIFICATION: *Primary Level Intelligence* CLEARANCE: *Vermillion* DATE: *451.M41* AUTHOR: *Visual Record Unit 3140* LOCATION: -UNKNOWN- SUBJECT: *Debriefing* ++Audio activation code accepted++ ++Vid-capture initializing++ ++Warning. No Authorised interrogator present++ ++Override accepted++ ++Interrogation room 337 Alpha++ ++Astartes prisoner - No discernible marks of allegiance++ ++Record starts++ Many of my brothers would call me a traitor. Thinking of many of them, I will gladly take such title and all that comes with it. I know this to be the truth, as I would call them all but the same. But what is the opinion of masses to one such as I? I know what I am, despite the millennia of confusion, the centuries of pain and the eternity of war. I know I am a true warrior of the Astartes. The Imperium as a whole has forgotten what we did for it. Ten millennia of stagnancy, one hundred centuries of religious dogma and degeneracy. Can your mind wrap its tiny self around such thoughts? You are but one of countless others, all of whom have been born, lived and died pointlessly more times than even a mind such as mine could calculate. If an intellect such as mine, built from stock of the very homeworld of our species, engineered by science and technologies that have never been replicated since, cannot contemplate such wonders, what chance does one such as you have? It almost makes me smile. I know you are watching me, my hidden observers. Your hearts beating so eagerly inside your chests, your shuddering breaths with each word I grace you. I hear the scratching of your scriveners as they take everything in triplicate, the hushed whispers you share when you think you have captured some unknown nugget of information from the pittance I allow you to absorb. It's almost amusing. But alas my friends, I tire of talking to these blank walls. You have me here for a reason, I allowed you the grace of my presence for far too long to continue the almost oppressive lull. But you still give me nothing. ++Access panel opens++ ++SCANNING++ ++SCANNING++ ++SCANNING++ ++Identity confirmed++ ++Inquisitor Lhyras Zhoul. Ordo Hereticus++ Ah! Finally we meet. I was beginning to grow tired of these games. Please, take a seat. No, you don't have to say anything. You are here to listen, not speak. I will make this simple for you, as we do not have a lot of time. No, questions are not needed just yet. We will get to them later. I know you have the pict-captures, I know you have the images of them all. Bring them out and I will tell you everything. I will answer all of your questions before you even ask. But first, the simplest answer of all. My name is Barquiel Myda. I am a true son of the First Legion. Born of Terra. Forged by war. And this is the truth. ++Record ends++ Hello to all. I am a bit of a hobby tornado and am always starting projects that never get finished. But me and a few of my buddies have all jumped on a new year/new army wagon at the moment and I have fallen on The Fallen! This army will be my go to this year and I am aiming for about 2500 points. I also want to try and build/model it all so it can be played as either Dark Angels or CSM. So it's gonna be interesting! First and foremost, let's see some pictures of what we have so far! First off the build pile. Tactical squad/CSM squad. We have the SGT/Champion. Two standard marines. I am doing a little bit of size variation to these guys, I can't understand the idea of marines all being so uniform in size. Here's the second brother compared to a standard veteran. Next up is the SGT/Champion for the first Veteran/Fallen squad. I imagine this squad is made up of former Destroyers, so I wanted him to look a bit more brutal in his bearing. I have always loved the Destroyers. Brothers who were shunned by their own legions, in so many cases they were openly hated. It almost makes you want to betray your oaths to the Imperium and strike out on your own! Last but not least, some glorious Devastators/Havocs. There's something about a missile launcher that makes me happy. I think it's the ability to destroy dreadnoughts. That's it from me tonight. I have a whole mess of other bits that I have started for this army so far, but I am trying to make myself stay on target with this! Until next time.
  4. I've been thinking about getting into the Horus Heresy, spacifically Night Lords, and I want to kit them out with the iconic "chaos" style power packs, and while using ones from the 40K CSM kits is the obvious chioce, those tend to have bits of chaos iconogrophy in hard to remove places(not to mention the excessive cost of buying squads of CSM just for backpacks). are there any good places to get non-chaos "chaos" powerpacks?
  5. I fielded a 3500pts variant of this army a few nights ago for an Extermination (Mission 6) game and it worked really well as an alpha strike list. Ideally, you need to go first – the aim is to swamp your opponent with infiltration. Alpha Legion 3000pts – Coils of the Hydra HQ Armillus Dynat - [200] Troops 10x Legion Tactical Marines – Bolt Pistol/Chainswords – Sergeant Power Fist - [165] Rhino - Infiltrate – [35] 10x Legion Tactical Marines – Bolt Pistol/Chainswords – Sergeant Power Fist - [165] Rhino - Infiltrate – [35] 10x Legion Tactical Marines – Bolt Pistol/Chainswords – Sergeant Power Fist - [165] Rhino - Infiltrate – [35] 5x Support Squad – Meltaguns - (Armillus Dynat) - [175] Drop Pod – Deep Strike - [35] Elites 10x Cataphractii Terminators – 5x Chain Fists – 5x Power Fists – Deep Strike – 2x Reaper Auto Cannons - [430] 10x Dark Fury Assault Squad - Infiltrate – [325] 3x Laser Destroyer Rapier - Infiltrate or Outflank – [165] 3x Laser Destroyer Rapier - Infiltrate or Outflank – [165] Fast Attack Xiphon Pattern Interceptor – Chaff Launchers – [210] Primaris Lightning Fighter- 4x Kraken- Ground Attack Auguries - [195] Heavy Support 1x Land Raider Proteus – Explorator Augury Web – Armoured Ceramite – [270] Legion Whirlwind Scorpius – 115 Legion Whirlwind Scorpius – 115 Start turn 1 by · Drop pod Support Team + Armillus straight into enemy deployment to deal with heavy support. · Rhino’s flat out towards enemy deployment (Who cares if they die… it’s more about bringing the fight straight into their deployment - if your playing objectives you may want to do this differently). · Infiltrating all of your Laser Destroyer Rapiers in range of anything you wish to remove. · Infiltrate Dark Fury’s so they can hold middle board or start covering ground for a turn 2-3 charge. Follow this up in turn 2 with · Either disrupt enemy reserves so they suffer a total of -2 to reserve rolls or give yourself the bonus using the Proteus. · Attempt to Deep Strike your deathstar of Terminators - (Armillus provides re-rollable Deep Strike to a single squad) by turn 3 this will eat anything… · Hopefully get your flyers in – (Xiphon for Anti-Air/Primaris for Anti-Lord-of-Wars). · Disembarking the troops if they still have their Rhino’s. Finish up around turn 3 by · Declaring every charge you possibly can – Dark Fury’s, Termies, Legion Tacticals… Detaching Armillus from the support squad can be useful for separate charges. · Mop up with your remaining Whirlwinds, Proteus sponsons, flyers and Rapiers. Would love any suggestions or further ideas – I originally ran Armillus inside the Proteus and he took care of any enemy drops on the back-board heavy support. I figured the Cognis bonus on the support squad + more chaos in their deployment would come in handy. If you don’t get first turn it would be a good idea to outflank the Rapiers and Dark Fury squad.
  6. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing... Chaos, it was the only word to describe it. The Valiant Guardian, it was a battle carrier forged in orbit over sacred Mars. A warship of the Imperial Navy’s Forth Grand Fleet and in service to the Imperial Army’s Nineteenth Terran Regiment. The Valiant Guardian which had served loyally for one hundred and eighteen years, had been destroyed. Her engines had roared in acceleration and propelled her forward into the battlefleet’s formation. In her bull rush she had collided with the destroyer Ares obliterating her starboard batteries. Two smaller escorts were destroyed entirely when her prow rammed through them. As she reached the center of the formation, amongst the two battleships Glory Claimed and Righteous Conquest, her warp core had gone critical and ignited. Then there was a flash of blinding light. Her remains had been incinerated along with hundreds of escape pods, transports, and attack craft. The Valiant Guardian ceased to exist. It seemed she was lost with all hands. What ensued was a tidal wave of destruction, confusion, and disarray. Seven other vessels were damaged in the blast. Four orbital survey stations had gone silent as their psykers hemorrhaged from the proximity to the death screams of so many souls burned at the warps touch. Several dozen transport shuttles and escort craft were unaccounted for. Casualty reports continued to stream in and the numbers of the dead and dying rose. Anyone and anything in service to the Master of Mankind was on alert. Every soul had been on a war footing since the traitor forces had turned on the Imperium yet this sector had been well behind the lines of engagement despite the raging warp storms. Was it an act of sabotage or purely grave misfortune that caused the Valiant Guardian to come about its disastrous end? On the surface of the world below the Imperial Army command were abuzz with activity. Guardsmen took up positions and manned orbital defense batteries. Flights of fighter craft and gunships took to the skies. Another army had formed from emergency response personnel and citizens who were involuntary chosen to aid them. Within the Tower, the planetary governor and the generals of the Imperial Army convened at the sectors primary headquarters. Amongst all the near insanity the loss of the Valiant Guardian had wrought a flight of three Valkyrie gunships were returning to base. In the wastes beyond the Tower and the sprawling military complex that surrounded it survivors had signaled a distress call from an escape pod hours after the incident. Reportedly they were crewmen from the bridge of the Valiant Guardian. They were to be returned to the Tower for interrogation and scrutiny. --- Their approach was low and close to the red soil of the planet. Their engines kicked up clouds of dust behind them. As they neared the Tower warnings blared to life as a network of defensive batteries took aim. The pilots immediately voxed their security clearances and sighed with relief when the guns of the base had gone idle and were no longer pointed at them. Everyone was on edge. Terminal Flight Command with the Tower ordered the three gunships to land at pad twenty nine as they flew into proximity of the base. The survivors were to be immediately taken into custody by Intelligence and debriefed without delay. There were too many questions that needed answering for the loss of a battle cruiser and the destruction it caused. The valkyries began maneuvers as their landing gear descended. Landing pad twenty nine was connected directly to the Tower and more than capable of servicing no less than four medium sized void transports. Such vessels could carry their own compliment of gunships if necessary. Flight crews instructed and waved down the fliers. Several platoons of guardsmen and a cadre of stormtroopers stood waiting on the deck. Medicae crews were present but had been walled off by the armed soldiers. When the final bird touched down and their engines began to decrease power they moved in. That was when the explosions happened. This time it was not the destruction of a warship or the raining debris from orbit. Fixed explosive blasts from the interior of the valkyries blew off the rear hatches. The force of the explosion launched them forward into groups of waiting guardsmen and stormtroopers. Knocked from their feet by detonations soldiers crawled onto their hands and knees. They barely had a moment to fathom what had happened before the true killing started. From within the belly of the valkyries predators leapt out with bolters firing. They were astartes of a sinister cunning and a breed apart from their brethren. Their armor shimmered in the sun with the blue-green sheen of a lizards scale. The cameoline upon their backs mimicking the terrain about them playing tricks to the unenhanced eye. In squads disembarking from the valkyries they made their way across the landing pad twenty nine in combat formations. They continued to gun down the unsuspecting defenders. They moved from cover to cover providing suppressive fire. There would be no armored elements at this sector but heavy weapons teams were not to be ruled out. Nor could one afford to be caught out in the open against the versatile walkers that began to stalk their way towards them, On legs resembling those of avian creatures they marched over the debris. Easily stepping over anything beneath them they opened fire on the attackers. Their heavy bolters pinned down several of the astartes. While their leader and his plasmacannon incinerated one astartes that was prepping its missile launcher. The attackers risked breaking cover to open fire and push forward. The service tunnels were only a few dozen meters away. Yet if they could not reach them the mission would be a failure and the great efforts to spring this assault wasted. The valkyries that had ushered them into the defenses of the Tower roared as their engine engaged full power. They lifted and hovered above the landing pad with their weapons firing. Their lascannons making quick work of the advancing sentinels responding to the assault. One valkyrie had been hit by the plasmacannon but its death would not be in vain. Applying thrust it aimed for its would-be killer. Just several feet above the astartes it raced forward with its fuselage knocking the sentinel from its feet. They came down in a fiery ball of blue flame as the plasma coils overloaded and detonated. The resulting explosion igniting the remaining promethium of the valkyrie. With that sacrifice the astartes had vanished. Following predetermined routes they began to spread through the Tower. Within minutes vital defense and communication systems began to fail or reboot. Random fires began to burn uncontrollably on several floors. Dozens of rooms were found to be occupied by the recently deceased, betrayed by those they thought brothers in arms. The Tower was under siege from within. This base would fall like so many others to the unseen blade. There would be no salvation from the Alpha Legion. --- So awhile back I got very interested in the Alpha Legion once again. Thanks to kizzdougs take on them something snapped in the black matter of my brain. Was it a my own choice to build up the Alpha Legion or some visual-subliminal-control trigger I will never know. What I do know is that I am stoked about them. What really got them going for me was the fact that my friends and I were playing Heralds of Ruin and it just screamed XX Legion. Small teams stalking the battlefield for their secretive tasks. Loved it. With this log I would like to catalog my building and painting of such an enigma of a Legion. However, you will not only find those adorned in their colors here. The Alpha Legion are known for infiltration, false flags, and the use of operatives. So do not be surprised if you see an Ultramarine tactical squad appear in this log. Or say a unit of Skitarii, Cadian, or even a Flesh Tearer. For nothing is as it seems. Now enough chit chat. We all know loose lips sink ships. So let me show you some pictures: There is quite a bit still do but I was just so darned proud of myself for finally getting this going. If you clicked on the kizzdougs link you will see what I am aiming to do. Just need more paint, time, and practice. So far this is what I have..or is it? Stay tuned, operative!
  7. 905 downloads

    By commission from Grand Master Laertes, depthcharge12, and Atia. The Legio Fureans of the Dark Mechanicus Traitor Titan Legion, scaled for use on Imperial Knight models. Note: will require the use of Mechanicum decals provided with the Imperial Knight model for best appearance. This sheet allowed me to do two new things. First, it is one of the first public sheets I've posted with multiple images, and the first not scaled for Space Marines or their vehicles. Second, it is the first sheet I've produced that takes advantage of the layer options in Adobe Acrobat/Reader. The logos appear on the top layer, with additional layers to print the sheet with a Legio Fureans yellow background, Fureans flames behind the logos, or a light blue background (though the last may only be of use on screen to show what white/light logos are present).
  8. So I decided it was time to start a thread for these guys instead of clogging up the TIAT thread So far I have a Warhound and Reaver basically complete, they both need transfers, weathering, and basing. I'm super stoked with how they are coming out, got some games against an Astorum player coming up soon. I have two more Warhounds and another Reaver to get painted before then. Here's another pic of the finished Reaver: More pictures to come as I work on things! ++++ EDIT Just realized I never washed/finished the Reaver's toes. Will do that asap!
  9. Recently while perusing the W.I.P Forums, I came across Kizzdougs' excellent log, and his CSM to Sons of Horus conversion. So, as is the case with hobby butterfly syndrome I decided to give it a whirl. I have some CSM stuff, and some MkIV stuff so I figured I'd give it a whirl. the results are as follows: Now, he's obviously a Traitor late in the Heresy. But the question is which legion does he hail from? I can see him as a Son of Horus, a Word Bearer, or maybe a Night Lord. What do my brothers in the Age of Darkness think? I'm thinking he will be the first in a small Zone Mortalis force, at least for now. We'll see. Thanks in advance for any comments!
  10. The Pallid Procession The Grave and the Cradle Origins[/skullheaderhalf] Something you learn after enough time seeding Grandfathers garden...not every infection births disease. Anything can become an infection and bear worthy fruits. It still begins small, but feeds on its environment, grows, spreads, until at last it consumes its host. Not their body, but their mind and soul. Every emotion, like an open wound, is fertile ground for infection as potent as any disease. Fear. Pride. Hatred. Failure. Calvera, Warden of the Damned Failure. Like a hissing insect that appears without fail to disturb moments of peace. That finds its way into the slightest chink in the armor and bites and stings, getting further in the more one reaches for it. That, in the very moment when it seems to have finally died, begins its fevered attack once more. To hear the living among The Procession tell it, the Chaos scourge of the Halo Stars owes its existence to the failure of one man: Johin Mahlur. The chosen Champion of the Asperos Astra, Mahlur had been given the chance to earn his Chapter glory, and had brought them only shame, which shame had led them to risk everything and cost them dearly. As the Chapter took its fateful journey through the treacherous pass leading into the Halo Stars, it was buffeted and shaken by the turbulence of the warp. After more than a month withstanding the storm, near the heart of the fleet, the strike cruiser Reilios, home of the 6th company, began to list out of formation. Within its hull, disarray. The ships Gellar Field was failing and the Immaterium was claiming it. Surfaces of the decks and bulkheads warped and bubbled, crumbled and cracked, changing material in an eyeblink. Bodies were transfigured and twisted. Entities of the Empyrean stalked the corridors. Amid the screams, coughs, and sounds of battle against apparating demonic entities, there were also murmurs of pledged loyalty, and while most stood and fought, there were some that bent the knee. The rest of the fleet continued receiving horrific transmission from the Reilios for hours, until at last it was pulled from its course and violently ejected from the warp stream, pulling a smaller vessel from the Explorators fleet with it, both presumed destroyed. But they survived. The two ships emerged from the Warp together, far from their destination, but mostly intact. Functional, but not unmarked. Both ships bore what appeared to be the accumulated wear and corrosion of centuries in the void without maintenance. The emblems and icons of the Chapter and the Imperium that had adorned the cruiser had crumbled or burned away, replaced instead with symbols of a different allegiance; the trio of circles that represent the Plague Lord, Nurgle. Every living soul aboard both vessels had been changed; a price paid for survival, and for Johin Mahlurs failure. Homeworld[/skullheaderhalf] Captains Quarters aboard the Pursuer Sickly green light pulsed above the unpowered holoprojector. A lone figure kneels before it, head bowed, the vile emblems on his armor dancing with their own shadows in the ghastly glow. This work, hell-fired worthy though it is, would go faster if you gave us more, the figure pleads in a deep rasp. The green rent in reality vibrated with the slow, layered, near-whisper that answered Is your power over death insufficient, Calvera? Or your will so weak? Would the Plaguefather be better served by another Champion? Not power, master. Knowledge. Assurance that this artifact exists! That our toils have meaning. The Materium hides secrets from us as the Immaterium obscures them from you. Had I more...insight...into the objects location, you would have it. Continue your searches. Have patience. Time is on our side. And Calvera? If you lay such doubt upon me again, there will be consequences. Spat out of the Warp under no power of their own, the castoff survivors from the fleet found themselves at the edge of a barren star system somewhere deep among the Halo Stars. Before them were a handful of worlds that were little more than pitted rocks, orbiting a baleful and turbulent star. At first the newly converted children of decay thought that they were meant for these stricken worlds, but as they approached, they found something else. Orbiting the entire star, like a single wisp of gray hair clinging tenuously to a pale head, was an unbroken chain of ships. Wreckage, both ancient and modern, pursuing a silent, ceaseless convoy around the star. From the whisper of Nurgles emissaries they learned its name: The Processional of the Damned. The numberless derelict vessels carried all that the Plaguefathers disciples would need to fulfill his will. From it they would take their name, and their mission. Composed of everything from scout vessels and pleasure yachts all the way up to battleships and space hulks, there are more weapons, artifacts, and secrets in the Processional than on some of the oldest hives of the Imperium. The orbiting vessels come from every age and beyond, and from civilizations human and xenos alike. There is far more hidden among these ships than the emerging warband can hope to uncover on its own. The Reilios and the Demittor, the Mechanicus forge-barque that had succumbed with them, moved to orbit alongside the Processional, only to see the ships surrounding them to part of their own accord, leaving room for both heretic vessels. Entering orbit, the heretics began their explorations. To further reflect the changes to themselves and their ship, the heretic Astartes renamed their corrupted Strike Cruiser Pursuer of the End. Over the course of years and decades that followed, the corrupted survivors explored and cannibalized the surrounding ships, while the tainted Mechanicus dragged multiple vessels together to build a dark, floating forge. The Astartes and their subjects refitted and repaired a handful of other ships, and began to launch scouting missions into the dark corners of the Halo Stars and towards the Asperos Astras original destination. When at last they found the Manifest Frontier, the loyalists newfound home, they set about watching them, dispatching agents into their midst to observe, and planting new seeds of corruption in the hearts of their wards. A handful of the choicest recruits were spirited away back to the Processional, where they joined the ceaseless salvage and restoration effort on the various wrecks. Others are outfitted with scout ships and sent into the darkest corners of the Frontier, pursuing secret objectives. The Processional now has pockets of activity throughout its orbit, some ships having been returned to full functionality to serve the heretics' naval and transport needs, while others have little more than flickering engines and lights full of whispers, some new and some ancient. The bulk of the work done in the Processional is carried out by undead, whose living masters push them ever harder to prepare the ships for their destiny. Still less than a fraction of its potential has been uncovered. The secrets and power it contains are of extreme importance to certain members of the Immaterium. And what is important to them is important to the Pallid Procession. Recruitment[/skullheaderhalf] There are few living Astartes in the Procession compared to many warbands, most of these being the original members of the 6th Company that made pacts with the Plaguefather in exchange for their lives and their power. Due to Nurgles gifts, none of these traitors has yet tasted death. The rest of the 6th company, however, was not lost...or more accurately, not wasted. With the powers of the Empyrean, the traitors raised the dead of the 6th, binding them to their cruel will. These undead Astartes are now the Processions deadliest shock troopers, and though some have been destroyed, their reanimated nature makes them extremely difficult to destroy, and many of them continue to serve. The bulk of the warband is composed of the surviving crew from the Pursuer and the Demittor, who command zealots and cultists that have been spirited away from the colony worlds of the Manifest Frontier. Supplementing their lack of numbers are great hordes of undead, raised by means of pestilent sorcery. While the Procession exercises its powers quite liberally to cull and harass the colonists, it is also very cautious in its approach to tempting away other Marines of the Asperos Astra. It is rarely worth the risk to commit substantial forces against the Chapters established defenses, but probing strikes against convoys and isolated outposts can sometimes yield new recruits. With great care, the Procession has slowly and subtly grown, and they continue their implacable advance with all the inevitability Nurgles children are known for. Advancement among the Astartes within the Procession is at the sole discretion of the Black Warden, Calvera, and hinges on much the same kinds of deeds expected of the mundane mortals in their service: providing information. As the Procession scours the Manifest Frontier from its heaviest fortifications to its darkest unexplored corners in search of the hidden power they desire, the favor of their master is reserved for those who provide the most valuable intelligence. Combat Doctrine[/skullheaderhalf] The Fall of Fort Belknod The flames created disturbing echoes in the halls of the fortress, seeming to give voices to the contorting shadows cast on the walls. Striding through the flames came a tall figure clad in eroded black ceramite, approaching a heavy door that had been smashed from its frame. Another, smaller figure wearing leathers stood by the open portal, and nodded to the armored giant, taking a step forward at the approach. The charts? Growled the armored one, stopping at the door. Inside, my Auger. Untouched, as ordered. Tell the troops. No survivors. The short one nodded, and ran, picking their way through flames. After a pause, the armored one entered the open room. It was small; room for less than a dozen people. The walls were lined with shelves, but directly across from the ruined door was a skull-topped shrine, inside of which was a tall, ornate scroll case. As the giant reached out, his helmet appeared to crack, disintegrate and at last dissolve into dust, drifting away from his head. Wide, milky eyes stared from a gaunt, pale face. A ceramite fist plucked the case from the shrine, lifting it to eye level, and the heretics thin lips curled into a humorless smile. Warfare as conducted by the Procession is a strange contradiction, a matter of subtlety executed by brute force, where a success will leave the enemy wondering why they came under attack at all. Lacking the numbers of elite (or even particularly coordinated) troops found among the Asperos Astra and the colonist militias, the warband compensates using waves of undead chaff to draw enemy attention and absorb fire. These hordes are composed of both simple reanimated dead, as well as more robust zombies created with an iteration of the Walking Pox known in the Frontier as the Withering Pox. The walkers created by the Withering Pox often appear shriveled and emaciated, rather than the typical swollen and pustule ridden form of pox walkers, but are still possessed of a frightening density that makes them deceptively hardy. While the pox walkers are usually gathered into their own hordes, it is not unusual for some to be mixed among the simpler plague zombies, where they are difficult to pick out until they are already upon the foe and their unexpected strength and ferocity is too late to stop. With the tide of undead at the front, the Processions firepower, borne primarily by the undead members of the 6th, can then be brought to bear with minimal interference. Their focused fire is used to target perceived weak points in their targets defences, creating greater opportunity for the hordes to break through and overwhelm defenders. More entrenched enemies are ideally faced with too many shambling corpses to be able to contribute meaningfully to the battle. Using the frontal assault as a distraction, the sorcerer leading the force will take advantage of the chaos sown by the pressing hordes to slip through a vulnerability in the enemy defence, whether discovered or pre-prepared, to accomplish the Processions main objective, or to fall upon an unsuspecting enemy flank with psychic fury, taking them off balance and leaving them all the more exposed. The Procession are especially dangerous in the void, where they take full advantage of the endless supply of gutted and abandoned vessels bestowed on them by their master. Fireships and ramming leave wide openings for boarding, both in direct assaults with their massed hordes and by stealthy insertions of sorcerers and their champions. To date, only moderately sized vessels, no larger than the Pursuer have seen use in actions against their enemies. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Organization Most operations attributed to the Procession are carried out by short-lived cults, whose leadership have very little communication with the true body of the warband. Their value is generally measured simply by the corpses they supply, but occasionally they provide information useful to the warbands larger aims. Delivering such information is usually the only means by which such zealots can hope to rise into the true ranks of the Procession, or earn any reward beyond knowing their zombified corpse will one day be a weapon for the warband. The humans with real standing in the Procession are more often than not spared from brutal combat service; they are far more valuable to the warband as information gatherers and fomenters of dissent. These select and faithful few operate primarily as solitary agents, searching the Frontier for whispers of the power the Procession seeks, while laying the foundation for new cults. Above most humans, but somewhat distinct from the structure of the Procession are the acolytes and magi of the Demittor, who have combined the gifts and knowledge of their patron with their existing technological prowess in order to keep the Procession equipped with arms and ammunition. As is typical of their kind, most of them would rather spend their time uncovering the secrets and archaeotech in the treasure trove that is the Processional, but they can be relied upon to outfit the warband according to its needs, and occasionally even take to the battlefield. Of the heretic astartes themselves, they are loosely divided into thirteen strike teams, each led by one of the original traitors from the Pursuer. These bands organize themselves largely as they see fit, and carry out the missions specifically given them in furtherance of the Processions goals. Their leaders, referred to as Augers by their lessers, each have varying degrees of influence over the powers of the Warp, due mostly to pacts struck during the fall of the Reilios. The more proactive among them have begun to approach the power of true sorcerers, but all have potent gifts they may bring to bear. Commanding the warbands operations on the material plane is the grim figure known as Calvera, the Black Warden. It is unknown what his exact involvement was in the fall of the 6th Company, but he was the most senior among those who turned, to say nothing of his authority as a Warden of Souls. What had once been an indomitable will as a Warden of the Asperos Astra has now turned toward the dark, entropic designs of the Plaguefather. Under his direction the Procession has harried both the Asperos and the Nonaveridis across the length and breadth of the Manifest Frontier, striking almost without consequence at places thought impervious to assault. Calvera himself takes counsel from none, save the greater daemon that relays the Plaguefathers wishes. Only a handful of the original heretics are privy to this entitys nature, but it is known to be the creator of the Withering Pox. To those of the material plane, the being is named The Graywhisper, and is one of the unifying subjects of worship among the various plague cults birthed by the Procession. And then, somewhere at the edge of the Processions structure is the enigmatic figure known most commonly among them Pallid Preacher. Even within the warband, no one can confidently claim understanding of this creatures nature. He often appears at settlements a few days, or sometimes mere hours before the arrival of warband hordes, raving abstractly to the inhabitants about the merits of death and the waiting afterlife. On more than one occasion the preachers unsettling sermons have been answered with bullets. While in some places he escapes, in others he, or at least something like him, has been reported killed. Still he appears on the frontlines, heedless of any number of deaths. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Beliefs Bridge of the Pursuer And this pleases the Graywhisper? The heretic marine, somehow both hulking and dessicated, leaned forward, laying a weathered metal chest at the foot of the throne. You need to learn the difference between progress, and success, Arikoraa, Calvera growled from beneath his hood, Progress is a lie, a trick, a false sense of security. It forestalls failure, but it is not success. In progress, there is nothing to be pleased. That weak thinking is why the Asperos settled for this...wasteland. When we succeed...when the Processional takes to the stars, the stain of the Asperos has been scoured, and we ride on the Imperium itself...then, the Graywhisper will be pleased. The Procession doesnt display the joviality found among some followers of Nurgle, though they do exhibit a grim pleasure in their work. The traitors from the Asperos Astra are a somber group, clad in the corrupted remains of their armor. Uncharacteristic for plague marines, the heretics of the Procession are gaunt, emaciated and parched rather than bloated and gangrenous. Even their ceramite appears more like a hardened, flaked husk than intentionally crafted armor. Instead of the cloying mist of disease that clings to most plague marines, the astartes of the Procession, both living and undead, are followed by dark, dry, clouds of noxious dust that bear the Withering Pox and other deadly pathogens. Though they delight in the suffering of the Frontiers colonists and any killing and torturing they can exact on the Asperos, the Procession are generally a callous and rigid warband, with a single-mindedness toward their objectives and very little tolerance for failure of any kind. They are committed to the mission given them, which to them will bring vindication against the weak and deferential Asperos Astra, and the Imperium that rejected their strength and denied their glory. Through their cults and, to a lesser degree the mad ministrations of the Preacher, the warband spreads its belief in death as the greatest gift, a liberation from the worry and pain of life. An afterlife awaits the worthy, a second life, which in reality is no more than being revived by one of the zombie plagues to further spread the word. Among the cults of the Procession, there is no greater aspiration, and the sorcerers within the warband are honest in delivering this gift to their disciples upon death. Nurgles purpose for the Procession among the Halo Stars is known only to the heretic Astartes and a select few of their most devoted followers. Under the daemons guidance, they are convinced that somewhere in the Frontier is an artifact capable of animating the entire Processional of the Damned. If found, it would create a fleet the likes of which the Imperium has seldom seen. One which could visit death and devastation upon an entire Segmentum. [skullheaderhalf=333333]Gene-seed They share the lineage of the Asperos, but their gene-seed is naturally highly corrupted. Very little of that gene-seed is viable for implantation. Only five successful implantations have occurred since the Processions birth, but each of these new plague marines has been increasingly more powerful than the last. Most of the failed implantations have at least resulted in mutants useful enough to be unleashed as disposable shock troops. [skullheaderhalf=333333]War Cry Call: Every step closer! Answer: Closer to the grave!
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