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Having been barely keeping up with the hobby for several years, Indomitus reignited my passion for 40k last year, so I decided to try to actually build a force. This time it will be Primaris space marines, but still my beloved 3rd Company of the Ultramarines. The plan is to build the complete company, including officers and attached specialists and a dreadnought, plus a ten-man Deathwatch kill team, and such a project needs a fresh thread, so here I am. In terms of bulding the company, I will be dividing it into combat squads, to avoid becoming overwhelmed or bored, and alternate those with Deathwatchers and officers, so that it will go Combat Squad > Deathwatch > Combat Squad > Officer > Combat Squad > Deathwatch... and so on. This should offer a decent balance between progress and sameness of models. I started an Intercessor veteran sergeant (the 30th anniversary model) as a one-off before I decided to make a full army, so I decided to finish him before doing the rest of the combat squad. If you visit the Ultramarines subforum, you may have seen him, but here he is again with one of the Necrons the 3rd is fighting: The Necron is really just a color scheme test model, not the start of an army, any time soon at least. The rest of Combat Squad Ardias is in progress, with their bodies only needing cleanup: The bolt rifle arms are coming along too, I just need to highlight the black and tidy up everything before gluing them on. Then it's just the other arms, backpacks and heads and then finishing touches. Of course, an Intercessor squad isn't the end of it. I have plenty of plans for all the squads and in particular the command cadre. I don't feel like typing out all the minute details of my plan that I've spent the last nine months overthinking, so for now I will just finish off with something black for now:

Hi I’m Casual Heresy, and I’m a hobby butterfly. And that’s okay. Afternoon all. A combination of the forum upgrades and downtime from catching Nurgle’s blessing (covid) for the first time means I’m finally going to start the WiP log I’ve always meant to start. I love space marines of all types so always have multiple projects on the go. Currently, I’m focussing on Black Templar reinforcements for the August Throne of Skulls at Warhammer Workd with heresy era ultramarines in the background. But various other armies and one off projects will pop up over time. Currently I’m about to finish the first of two Redemptors for my Templars, and a Contemptor I finished yesterday is waiting on tufts. After that there is only Grimaldus and his boy band, a Primaris Techmarine and Castellan to go.

Was wondering if anyone has more info on the newly announced Ultramar Shield Chapters mentioned in one of the 500 Worlds articles on WarCom. I recognise most of them, but there are three I’m not familiar with (The Reborn, Praetors of Ultramar, and Aquiloan Brotherhood). Are they new or have I missed them in the lore?

‘For Ultramar and Old Terra’ ‘When my end comes, in the bloody manner it is fated to be, I am content that my brothers will remember me. That is all that I have ever hoped for myself. What troubles me is that, with my passing, the names of a thousand comrades of old will fade. That will be my final regret.’ - Iskandar Locke, XIII Legion. +++ Well, what's this? Another Age of Darkness project log? Just in time for the new edition! I'm aware that I am by no means the only person on the forum right now who is both hyped for Heresy 2.0 and keen to motivate myself to power through a backlog before the new stuff lands. I've also been in a bit of a hobby bare patch and for quite a while have been thinking of setting up a little, semi-narrative project log to help motivate me and share some of the substandard background material I've written for my Ultramarines. I currently have a few thousand points of XIII Legion and allied Imperial Army in various stages of completion, with vague plans to include some Sisters of Silence & Custodes that I have sat in a box somewhere. You can see some more of all my hobby stuff over on Instagram but to get this thread rolling, here is the last character I finished. In game he's a Delegatus / Warmonger (RIP) / Centurion for smaller point games. Let me know what you think! +++ Centurion Amman Varid - Drop Assault Leader and Senior Company Officer - II Chapter - LXVI Company - XIII Legion

For my Ultramarines force I want to avoid the 40K style edge highlights and go for the normal heresy style weathered battlefield/miltary look, but I'm at a mental block as to how i should do it. Do i go for the old sponge trick with Rhinox and Calgar Blue and leadbelcher etc, or should I go for some of the weathering seen in the latest GW heresy videos like the Dark Angels one which is muted scratch/highlights etc? Would greatly appreciate some tips!

TALES OF THE UNMARKED THE SHADOW CRUSADE, IMPERIUM SECUNDUS, AND THE LONG MARCH TO TERRA "The death of hope itself is perhaps the greatest tragedy in the wake of Horus' ambition. For the briefest of moments, humanity grasped its true destiny. The blood we had spilled, the worlds we had burned, the brothers we had lost - all of it and more - vindicated. We could have elevated the species above ignorance, superstition, and the day-to-day drudgery of mere survival. Scholars may point to Isstvan, Calth, or Terra herself as where Mankind's hopes died. Those of us who had fought through those blood-soaked days know better. Mankind's hopes died, one by one, with each shell fired at an erstwhile brother and with each Legion blade shattered upon Legion ceramite. Every life trampled beneath the thunderous footfall of the Legiones Astartes was a life wasted, never to see its full potential realized." - From the memoirs of Publius Strabo, Centurion, XIII Legion "Let us make war, for evidently, you have found peace intolerable." - Scipio, Ancient Romanii War-Sage "Man proposes, God disposes." - Tomas a Kempis, Jermanic Ecclesiastic, M2 Publius Strabo, Centurion, 114th Company, XIII Legion Ultramarines Arrayed in his heavily modified panoply (retroactively designated Mark V "Heresy") as seen in this pict-capture, then-Lieutenant Strabo had been a talented junior officer whose potential might have one day seen him rise to company command. However, this future was not to pass - Strabo was wounded almost unto death in a furious but ultimately futile boarding action against Eldar raiders some three decades prior to the outbreak of the Horus Heresy. Narrowly avoiding internment in a Dreadnought shell, Strabo returned to the ranks after undergoing extensive augmetic rebuild. Quietly sidelined, a bitter Strabo shunned the company of most of his Legion brothers and bent his mind towards technological mastery instead. By 007.M31, Strabo had attained the rank of Centurion (centurio immunes*) within the 114th Company, contenting himself with commanding Legion-bonded war-automata instead of Legionaries. Strabo would survive the fires of the Horus Heresy. His memoirs, penned after the Scouring, would form the basis of this record. Panoply of War: Centurion Strabo's armor was constructed from elements of the "Iron", "Maximus", and "Corvus" patterns of Legiones Astartes armor. At the time of this pict-capture, such a hybridized suit was a rarity in the XIII Legion. Therefore, Strabo most likely performed extensive modifications upon his own armor. Beyond standard Legion-issue battlefield command and control equipment such as the cognis-signum and the nuncio-vox, Strabo's armor was also equipped with an advanced vox disruptor array for engaging the enemy in electronic warfare. The reinforced "Mantilla" pattern helm incorporated an artificer-wrought augury scanner. Such a suite of sophisticated equipment allowed Strabo to function as Praevian and Master of Signal both. *XIII Legion title referring to specialist officers whose normal duties did not involve line command.

There are few things in this world as brilliant as a father's love for his son. It shines down upon the son, basking him in warmth and illuminating his path. But what if that son were exceptional, and the father yet more brilliant? I suppose such a love could fill the air with golden light, filling the son with such vibrant energy that he could do the impossible. Do you know what they say about the brightest lights? They also cast the darkest shadows. The son may bask in the father's light, but in doing so relegate his brother to the coldness of the shadows. It is a tale as old as time itself. Two brothers, both brilliant in their own way. One warmed by the father's golden light, a sparkling sapphire in his father's eye. The other cast aside, a cold grey rock shivering in the darkness. What choice does such a son have but to drag his brother down into the shadows with him? The tale did not begin on Calth, but it is where my journey started. The day the Astartes brought destruction and vengeance to my beautiful home. Two brothers - one wreathing a world in flame and light long denied to him, the other desperately holding back a shadow which he never understood. For that is the truth of it - only a father's love can provoke such hate.

Index Astartes: The Curs'ed Origin F orged in the fires of war, I, Genator-Magos Victorus Mortem, stood as the architect behind the birth of this accursed Chapter, emerging from the shadows of the Imperium's 21st founding. In those tumultuous times, as the embers of conflict consumed the galaxy, the Adeptus Mechanicus dared to delve into uncharted realms, seeking to shape superhuman warriors that could sway the tides of battle. Like a fateful Prometheus of the Imperium, amidst the clamour of war, I ventured forth to fashion a new breed of Space Marine, harnessing the power of experimental gene-seed and genetic manipulation. Drawing their lineage from Guilliman's noble seed, I handpicked descendants known for their genetic purity and unwavering dedication to the Imperium. But in my relentless pursuit of perfection, I hungered for the finest aspirants to breathe life into my creation. Thus, I delved deep into the vast archives of the Imperium, where fate led me to the citizens of Aberrantia. Among their ranks, I unearthed physically superior elites, pristine slates upon which I could etch my visionary masterpiece. Within the enigmatic realms of life and death, I dared to tread, manipulating the gene-seed to bestow upon them hyper-regenerative gifts, transforming them into beings capable of defying mortality itself. Yet, the wheels of fate spun treacherously, and my hubris birthed grave errors. Like a merciless curse woven into their essence, my creation became grotesque parodies of their once noble form. Bloated flesh, twisted growths, and ghastly scars marred their bodies, while their minds twisted and their souls tainted by the warp's malevolent touch. I bore the weight of shame for what I had wrought, my legacy now a cautionary tale echoing through the annals of time. Let my ill-fated creation stand as a sombre reminder, a testament to the perils faced by those who dare to assume the role of the Omnissiah. For those who meddle with the enigmatic mysteries of the universe, the consequences are dire, as witnessed through the cursed existence of my Chapter. May the echoes of my missteps reverberate across the generations, serving as a resounding lesson on the precipice of creation and destruction, forever etched in the annals of cautionary lore. Homeworld R uminating with a burdened heart, I contemplate the enigmatic tapestry of Aberrantia, the ill-fated homeworld I rashly selected for the Chapter's genesis. A realm of striking paradoxes, where lowly serfs toil amidst fields and humble villages, their abodes fashioned from wood and stone. Clad in modest attire, their garb exudes practicality, shielding them from nature's cruel whims. Despite their meagre existence, an unwavering devotion binds them to the Chapter, hailing the Adeptus Astartes as paragons of strength, valour, and honour. Within their modest culture, one discerns the motifs of modesty, resilience, and unwavering allegiance, interwoven into the Chapter's ethos. Yet, towering above the sprawl of Aberrantia, its gothic bastions pierce the heavens, casting a sombre shadow upon the masses. The aristocratic echelons, ensconced within their lofty enclaves, masked their true nature behind a veneer of ceaseless propaganda. Alas, I, Victorus Mortem, discovered the harrowing truth too late. This self-proclaimed elite bore within their bloodline an inherent flaw, their sordid dalliances with kin resulting in a profusion of mutations and aberrations meticulously concealed from imperial scrutiny. Oh, how the hubris of these nobles resonates with the perils that befell our genetic manipulations as we, too, ventured to tamper with the very essence of life itself. Contemplating the loathsome mutations that afflict Aberrantia's ruling class, my pursuit of redemption intermingles with an odd sense of...fascination. A perverse allure veils their contorted visages, artistry in the warped forms sculpted by the forces they sought to command. It serves as a stark testament to the might and caprice of genetics, an eternal reminder that the mastery of nature eludes our grasp. Alas, the once humble festivities that graced Aberrantia's land have met their untimely demise, much like all else touched by the curse I have unleashed. Once a jubilant occasion marking the bountiful autumn yield, the ‘Festival of the Reaping’ now devolves into a grotesque spectacle of excess and debauchery. The villagers no longer partake in modest appreciation of their fruitful labours; instead, they revel in gluttony and avarice, engorging themselves to the brink of sickness. The ‘Festival of Resurgence’, a time of rejuvenation and budding hopes, heralds on Aberrantia the advent of decay and demise. Villagers engage in macabre rituals of sacrifice, beseeching dark powers they believe can ensure a plentiful harvest. The mutations that beset the Chapter have seeped into every facet of existence upon Aberrantia, tainting even the most innocent celebrations with an irrevocable stain of horror and decay. The repercussions of my ill-fated genetic experimentation upon this world have yielded nought but calamity and desolation, forever etching a tale of woe that defies all remedy. It serves as a poignant reminder that, as Magi, we must ever ponder the delicate balance between the fruits of inquiry and the perils of unintended consequences. Thus, seated here, amidst the desolate remnants that befall Aberrantia, I cannot help but question if I have become nought but the Prometheus of the 41st Millennium, forever doomed to endure the torments of my hubris and transgressions against nature's religious order. Fortress Monastary A s I returned to the towering fortress monastery of the Space Marine Chapter years later, I was shocked to find it in utter ruin. The once imposing structure was now a mere shadow of its former self. The thick walls, once bristling with gun emplacements and turrets, now lay in disrepair. The massive gates that once guarded the entrance were rusted and broken, and the rare metals that once reinforced them were now tarnished and dull. Inside the walls, the once-a-hive of activity facilities was now abandoned and overgrown with vegetation. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the only sounds were rodents scurrying through the rubble. As I explored the ruins, I came across mounds of flesh sliced off and left on the floor, along with surgical tools that the Space Marines had used to keep their mutation in check. Clearly, the Chapter's mutation had overcome them, and they had succumbed to their hubris, leading to the downfall of 'The Mother, ' their once-great fortress-monastery. Founding Lore N ightfall descends upon my thoughts as I inscribe the dark history of the Chapter onto data-slates. Once heralded for their unrivalled gene-seed manipulation techniques, the Adeptus Astartes of this Chapter possessed hyper-regeneration abilities, granting them a formidable advantage on the battlefield. They blossomed in strength and influence, emerging as an indomitable force amidst the vast expanse of the galaxy. Their valour blazed like a nova as they fearlessly positioned themselves at the forefront of the most brutal conflicts, shielding their brethren of the Emperor from grievous harm. Their unwavering courage garnered immense admiration from fellow brother chapters, who held them in the highest regard. Yet, as the wheels of time turned, the growing trove of data collected by the Adeptus Biologis unveiled a disconcerting truth. Once believed to be infallible, the once lauded gene-seed manipulation techniques began to reveal signs of inherent fragility. Mutations and anomalies seeped into the ranks of the Space Marines, kindling apprehension within the Chapter's training cadre of Doom Eagles. Wounds and battle scars, once testimonies to their resilience, now festered with excess adipose tissue and scarred flesh, trapping perspiration, filth, and pathogens. Festering sores and minor infections burgeoned, fueling rampant skin growth and cellular regeneration. Their mobility became hampered, and in dire instances, some brothers could no longer don their revered grey suits of power armour. Though we endeavoured to quell the mutations, our efforts proved futile as the taint spread relentlessly. Piles of flesh excised from the afflicted Space Marines and the implements of surgical intervention employed to impede their degradation became commonplace sights within the Chapter's halls. As the mutations burgeoned and metastasised, the Chapter's once-glowing reputation dimmed to a pallid hue. Fellow Space Marine Chapters regarded them cautiously, wary of their unstable nature. Even their closest allies distanced themselves, reluctant to be associated with the shadow now cast upon the Chapter. A once-promising beacon in the firmament of the galaxy now teetered on the precipice, desperately struggling to retain its waning power and influence. Gene-Seed K neeling here in my laboratory, encircled by the instruments of my trade, I cannot help but reflect on the calamity that my creation has unleashed upon the galaxy. For you see, I am the mastermind behind one of the accursed Chapters of Adeptus Astartes that currently afflicts the Imperium. Keenly, I utilized Guilliman's gene-seed as the cornerstone of my work, yet I dared to manipulate the Ossmodula gland, responsible for augmenting bone density and muscular development, to forge a distinct prowess called Hyper-Regeneration. This ability, combined with the disciplined training and strategies of the Adeptus Astartes, was meant to elevate them as one of the most dreaded and revered Chapters in the cosmos. Alas, my ambition blinded me to the perils that awaited. Kindled far beyond my foresight, the gland became a maelstrom of hyperactivity, subjecting the cursed warriors to mutations and aberrations beyond mortal comprehension. How it escalated so uncontrollably, I cannot say. Whispers of conspiracy permeated the ranks, with some alleging that their disfigurements were not the result of some mysterious curse but rather my own ignorance of the truth. They accused the clandestine selective breeding by the planet's elite, embedding aspirants harbouring an array of incompatible genetic codes into the process, thus sowing the seeds of this cursed Chapter. The cursed warriors and the planet's governors found themselves besieged by doubt and trepidation as they pondered the true origin of their affliction. Was their fate preordained by their own kin? Were they mere pawns in a grander scheme, deployed to test the boundaries of possibility? In their bleakest hours, some even questioned if they were the fruits of a deranged Magos' failed experiment, a living embodiment of the consequences of tampering with life's essence. Once an emblem of the Imperium's might, the Ultramarine gene-seed had transmuted into a font of horror and desolation. My creation had birthed a Chapter that starkly contradicted Guilliman's and the Emperor's intentions. The accursed warriors were now feared and abhorred; their existence serves as a chilling reminder of the perils inherent in meddling with the very tapestry of existence. Recruitment E erily, as I contemplate my creations, I am engulfed by horror and remorse. The endeavour to recruit for the accursed Chapter commenced innocuously enough, selecting solely the most formidable aspirants from the elite of Aberrantia. However, as their hyper-regeneration burgeoned in might, the rituals became increasingly macabre. Embracing one such rite, christened 'The March,' was initially meant to inflict harm upon the aspirants, allowing the Apothecaries to refine their healing arts. They were compelled to traverse a treacherous path towards The Mother while burdened with a weighty load upon their backs, confronting obstacles and perils. Those who reached the journey's end without faltering or relinquishing their burden were deemed deserving of initiation. Embarking upon the path of the initiate, they were subjected to the Enigmatic Rite of the Pierced Flesh, which entailed enduring confinement within a Dread Casket without a single flinch or cry of anguish. This was a testament to their strength, resilience, and newfound regenerative abilities. The Dread Casket was a macabre contraption that instilled dread in all who beheld it. Resembling a cold, black coffin adorned with jagged spikes and hooks lining its interior, its exterior bore intricate designs depicting contorted and tormented souls, further heightening the pervasive sense of foreboding. Its cramped and uncomfortable interior ensured that no part of the victim's body remained unimpaled by the malicious spikes. The casket was meticulously sealed with latches and locks, ensuring the captive's inescapability. The scars left by the Dread Casket were indelible, worn as badges of honour by the Brethren of this woeful Chapter. As I retrospectively survey these abhorrent rituals, I cannot evade the weight of responsibility for the abominable creations I have wrought. The ramifications of playing deity with the very essence of life have proven to be profoundly terrifying. Chapter Doctrine and Faith N ever had I witnessed a more eerie spectacle than the one unfolding before my eyes, a ghastly ritual enacted by the members of my accursed creation. It was known as The Reclamation of the Body,' a sombre custom entailing the severing of the grotesque growths that sprouted from their flesh, a consequence of the unbridled expansion of their Ossmodula gland. This self-inflicted mutilation had become deeply ingrained in their beliefs, serving as a testament to their sacrifice and unwavering dedication to the Emperor. The atmosphere surrounding the ceremony was heavy with solemnity, casting a shroud of reverence upon the Brothers. With unyielding conviction, they embraced the belief that the excision of these growths was essential to better serve the Emperor and the Imperium. Regarded as a physical manifestation of the Chapter's affliction, the distorted tumours held symbolic significance. Through their removal, the Brothers sought to purify themselves of their wretched state, seeking absolution from their cursed existence. Before commencing the ritual, each Brother prepared himself, both in body and spirit, mentally steeling himself for the agony ahead. With grim determination, he took hold of his blade, its cold steel glinting in the dim light, and embarked on severing the malignant growths. Every incision was executed meticulously, a delicate dance to avoid harming vital organs or inducing excessive bleeding. As the Brother sliced away the tumours, his lips moved in silent supplication, uttering prayers and mantras beseeching the Emperor for strength and guidance. In their eyes, the torment and shedding of blood during the Reclamation of the Body assumed the form of penance, a means to atone for their accursed state. The Brothers embraced this suffering willingly, convinced that it was an indispensable path to absolution and an enhanced capacity to serve their divine sovereign. Upon completing the sombre rite, the Brother purified himself in a ritualistic bath, cleansing away the traces of blood and agony that clung to his weary form. Clad once more in his formidable armour, he emerged transformed, a symbol of resilience and dedication. The meticulously collected tumours were consigned to the purifying flames, their ashen remnants scattered by the whims of the wind, an outward sign of the Brother's purification and renewed purpose. The Reclamation of the Body stood as a potent symbol of the Cursed Chapter's unyielding fealty to the Emperor, a testament to their unwavering resolve to endure any torment in service of the Imperium. They sought absolution in their morbid devotion and tireless sacrifice, even amidst the darkest shadows that haunted their existence. The pain and suffering the members of the Cursed Chapter endured while cutting off their tumours would become a form of penance for their cursed state. They believed that their mutation was a punishment for some unknown sin, and the act of self-mutilation was a way to atone for their perceived wrongdoing. It was a painful and bloody ritual, but they endured with stoic resolve, seeing it as a necessary step in their journey towards redemption and purity. Cutting off their tumours symbolised their devotion to the Emperor, a way to show their unwavering loyalty and dedication to the Imperium. In their moments of introspection, the members of my Curs'ed Chapter found themselves bargaining with their fate, seeking a path to salvation. They yearned to be released from the burden of their mutation, to be free of the physical and emotional pain it brought upon them. They pleaded with the Emperor, offering their pain and suffering as a payment, a sacrifice to prove their worthiness of redemption. They believed they could bargain with their bodies through self-mutilation, negotiating for deliverance from their cursed state. With every slice of the blade, they hoped to buy a moment of respite, a chance to glimpse a future where they could serve the Emperor without the weight of their mutation dragging them down. Their ritualistic self-mutilation became a desperate plea, an attempt to find a way to regain their former glory and purity. They clung to the belief that their devotion and sacrifice would be rewarded and their suffering would not be in vain. It was a delicate balance between acceptance and resistance as they navigated the fine line between embracing their mutation as a gift and seeking a release from its shackles. In this bargaining stage, Brothers sought solace in their pain, viewing it as a currency to be traded for redemption. Their determination to overcome their cursed state and unwavering loyalty to the Emperor drove them forward, propelling them through the darkest depths of their suffering. And with each ritualistic act of self-mutilation, they clung to the hope that their pleas would be heard and their sacrifice would lead them to salvation. Despite the unmistakable weight of their disfigurement, the burden their mutation imposed upon their physical forms, the Chapter finally came to embrace an extraordinary conviction: to view their affliction not as a curse but as a necessary sacrifice bestowed upon them to better serve the Emperor. It was a perspective that set them apart, as they perceived their condition as a sacred gift, a divine bestowal that granted them unparalleled regenerative abilities, transforming them into fearsome warriors upon the blood-soaked stage of the battle. "O felix mutatio! Da nobis virtutem superare hostes nostros et in sanguine eorum gaudere!" Over time, the Chapter transformed the soul, gradually shifting their perception of their existence. What had once been met with trepidation and attempts at suppression gradually evolved into acceptance and reverence. Their mutated forms, once sources of anguish and despair, now became symbols of devotion, emblematic of their unyielding dedication to the Emperor and the Imperium. In the deepest recesses of their hearts, the Chapter began to believe that their mutation was not an aberration but a manifestation of the Emperor's divine will. They saw it as a peculiar mark of distinction, a sacred touch that set them apart from their brethren and endowed them with a formidable advantage. Their regenerative capabilities, honed to a razor's edge, elevated them to living weapons capable of enduring wounds that would cripple ordinary mortals and recover with astonishing swiftness. This newfound belief infused their ranks with a profound sense of purpose. They no longer fought against their mutation but embraced it as an integral part of their identity. Their physical deformities became a badge of honour, a testament to their unwavering loyalty and the Emperor's chosen path for them. Through their acceptance, the Brothers of the Cursed Chapter found solace and a renewed sense of belonging, no longer plagued by doubts or haunted by the spectre of their cursed existence. In the face of adversity, they drew strength from their shared conviction. The pain and suffering they endured, the excruciating process of self-mutilation and the weight of their unique burdens were embraced as holy rites, acts of devotion and sacrifice. Each slice of the blade upon their flesh was imbued with meaning, a testament to their unyielding faith and commitment to the Emperor's cause. As their acceptance grew, so too did their unity. They stood as a resolute brotherhood, bound by their shared mutation and their unshakeable belief in the divine purpose it served. Their once fragmented souls had fused into a collective will, an unbreakable resolve that propelled them forward, undeterred by the scorn of others. Deep within their hearts, they knew that their path was chosen, and their journey, though marred by suffering, was one of unswerving devotion and unwavering service. The Chapter had transitioned from a state of resistance to acceptance, transforming their perceived curse into a sacred mantle. They stood as living testaments to the Emperor's mysterious designs, finding strength and purpose in the aspect others deemed monstrous. They had become an embodiment of faith, a living testament to the indomitable spirit that resided within them. And with each passing day, their belief in their divine purpose burned brighter, casting aside the shadows of doubt and illuminating the path ahead. Tactical Imperatives S ummoned forth from the depths of forbidden knowledge, the curse that haunts the Chapter has woven itself intricately into the tapestry of their combat doctrine. It moulds their strategies, strengths, and vulnerabilities on the battlefield, imbuing their actions with themes of resilience, sacrifice, and unyielding determination arising from their tormented existence. Swathed in the shroud of adversity, their resilience is a testament to their wretched nature. The grotesque mutations etched upon their forms grant them a fortitude beyond mortal ken. They endure, defying the limitations of flesh and bone, bearing wounds that would crumble lesser beings. Through pain and anguish, they forge ahead, unyielding in their pursuit of victory. Like a relentless tempest, they weather the storm of battle, their tenacity unmatched. In sacrifice lies their grim purpose. Their bodies become the altar they offer themselves for the greater good. Their plight, a macabre offering, drives them to protect their comrades at any cost. They cast themselves into the fray, bearing the weight of the enemy's fury upon their mutated frames, shielding their kin from harm. Their existence embodies selflessness, a living sacrifice for the Imperium's cause. From the crucible of affliction, their determination emerges unyielding. The curse, a constant reminder of their wretched fate, fuels their unwavering resolve. In the face of insurmountable odds, they stand firm, unflinching. Their souls were aflame with an undying passion; they pressed forward, their hearts resolute, their spirits unbreakable. No obstacle can deter them; no setback can extinguish the fire that burns within their malformed souls. Adapting to their twisted forms, their combat doctrine evolves. They wield their physical bulk as a weapon, a monstrous force unleashed upon the enemy's ranks. Their movements, slow yet purposeful, are calculated and precise, leveraging their mass to crush all who oppose them. Through the perverse blessings of regeneration, they endure protracted battles, wearing down their adversaries with a grim determination. Each scar upon their flesh becomes a testament to their resilience, a mark of endurance etched upon their very beings. The Chapter's combat doctrine takes shape in the dark realm where science melds with abomination. It is a grotesque symphony of resilience, sacrifice, and unyielding determination, played out upon the stage of war. They find strength, purpose, and an unparalleled capacity to endure through the curse that plagues them. Though shunned and reviled, they march forward, their existence a chilling reminder of the depths to which humanity can descend in its relentless pursuit of power. Chapter Master T ouched by unwavering loyalty and fueled by unyielding determination, Captain Lucian Tiberius of the Doom Eagles emerged as a shining example amidst the inception of this abhorrent creation. However, as the magnitude of its horror became undeniable, he found himself compelled to make a fateful decision—to renounce his oath as Chapter Master and embark on a solemn pilgrimage back to his origins, driven by the sole purpose of purging the Galaxy from the abomination I had unleashed. Clad in his resplendent grey power armour adorned with intricate symbols of devotion, he embodies the spirit of self-sacrifice and resilience that defined the Chapter so quickly in those early days. Lucian's towering figure, marked by battle scars and the weight of his responsibilities, commands respect and inspires awe among his brethren. His noble countenance reflected a steadfast resolve and unwavering dedication to the Emperor and the Imperium. His piercing blue eyes, hardened by countless trials, reveal both the weight of his burdens and the fire of his righteous fury. With a tactical mind honed through years of warfare, Lucian possessed a brilliant strategic and political mind that allowed him to navigate the treacherous path of leading this doomed Chapter. His ability to analyse complex battle scenarios, anticipate enemy movements, and adapt swiftly to changing circumstances has earned him the admiration of his brothers and the respect of his allies. Lucian's charisma and commanding presence made him a natural leader, inspiring his warriors to push beyond their limits and face the horrors of their mutation with unwavering courage. He led by example wherever possible, charging fearlessly into the heart of the fray, his thunderous strikes and unyielding determination inspiring his brothers to follow suit. But it is Lucian's unshakeable faith in the righteousness of their cause that truly sets him apart. Despite the burdens imposed by their cursed state, his conviction in his belief that their mutation was a punishment for a sin sent from the Emperor, a trial to redeem their resolve and commitment to his service, he almost willed into existence. He tirelessly emphasised the importance of their duty to protect the Imperium, instilling in his brethren a sense of purpose and a belief that their suffering has a higher meaning. I know of no greater soldier than he. His conviction was true until the end when he led the charge with unwavering resolve alongside the Doom Eagles against the monsters they had become. Lucian Tiberius was a living embodiment of what the Chapter's values could have been; a symbol of hope and a testament to the power of faith and resilience in the face of adversity. The Fall E thereal unease engulfs me as I witness the dreadful transformation unfolding before my eyes. The once noble Brothers of the chapter, now ensnared in the clutches of this grotesque affliction, find themselves condemned to a wretched metamorphosis. With each passing moment, their corporeal forms, once defined by strength and purpose, contort into an abomination of flesh. Twisted and warped, their bodies become host to engorged masses of repulsive tissue, a grotesque manifestation of malignant growths and bulging protrusions. These deformities sprawl across their once proud frames, engendering both a morbid fascination and deep repulsion within me. Their every movement is now imprisoned within the confines of their own monstrous bulk, their once agile forms reduced to immobility under the weight of their mutations. Limbs, once crafted for precision and honed in the crucible of warfare, writhe in twisted agony, their true essence obscured in a state of perpetual distortion. They have become mere caricatures of their former glory, trapped within their grotesque and torturous existence. The torment inflicted upon them extends beyond physical affliction. Their lungs, distorted and misshapen, strain beneath the weight of their burgeoning growths. The air they inhale, thick with the stench of decay and putrescence, is a fleeting resource. The once indomitable Brothers, champions of resilience, are reduced to gasping for each breath, their inevitable suffocation looming ever closer. In their final moments, muted screams escape their disfigured mouths, suffocated by the fleshy encasement that has claimed them. Despair and agony reflect in their glazed eyes, witnessing their flesh devouring them from within. The pulsating tumours, fueled by a malevolent force, continue their unrelenting expansion, crushing vital organs and extinguishing the last flickers of life. This wretched stage, so pitiful and abhorrent, marks the initial descent of the chapter into a vortex of physical deterioration. Once celebrated warriors, the Brothers now succumb to the ravages of their uncontrollable mutations. Their demise, a tragic irony, is an embodiment of their genetic enhancements turned against them, consuming them in an unforgiving embrace. As their bodies twist and deform, their visage evokes nought but horror and revulsion from their former comrades within the Imperium. Adorned with bulging tumours and writhing flesh, they are no longer regarded as brothers-in-arms but as pariahs, an affront to the purity of the Emperor's design. The rejection they face from their once-familiar allies weighs heavily upon their already burdened souls. Isolation becomes their damning companion as they are shunned and cast aside by those who once fought alongside them. Once so steadfast, the bonds of brotherhood and camaraderie crumble in the face of their grotesque transformation. The Imperial forces keep their distance, fearful that this mutation may be contagious. They are met with fear and disgust, viewed as harbingers of corruption rather than stalwart defenders. The rejection and hostility sear deep into their psyche, plunging them further into despair and madness. Estranged from the support they once cherished, they spiral into the recesses of their tortured minds. Whispers from the warp invade their thoughts, sowing seeds of doubt and malevolence. Like fragile glass, their sanity shatters under the relentless weight of despair. Alas, no reinforcements come to their aid. The mutation that consumes them is a secret they bear alone. They confront the horrors of their existence, abandoned by the Imperium they swore to protect. It is a harrowing truth that entwines their fate with hopelessness and despair. The realization settles, heavy and unyielding, that they are condemned to face this insidious mutation alone. Desperation engulfs them, fueled by the primal instinct to survive. The remaining Brothers, forsaking all bonds of brotherhood, turn upon each other with savage ferocity. Honour and loyalty hold no sway as they engage in brutal battles, driven solely by the need to ensure their own preservation. Within this frenzied state, violence becomes the catalyst that ignites their mutations into a savage frenzy. Every blow struck, every life taken, breathes perverse vitality into their twisted flesh. Once contained and grotesque, the mutations now thrive and multiply at an alarming pace. Their growth accelerates with each act of brutality, a gruesome testament to their descent into darkness. Once proud warriors, they merge into a nightmarish assemblage of limbs, appendages, and seething tumours. The fallen Brothers become building blocks for their mutated brethren, assimilated into the monstrous masses that roam the chapter's ranks. The unity and brotherhood they once cherished lie shattered and forgotten. In this wretched stage, the chapter becomes a tableau of internecine conflict. No longer driven by noble disagreements, their battles devolve into a grotesque struggle for dominance. The mutated monstrosities tear through the ranks ruthlessly, guided by their insatiable hunger and the instinct to overpower one another. Friend and foe become indistinguishable in this macabre spectacle of carnage. Unity and honour, once their guiding lights, crumble beneath desperation. Survival at any cost eclipses the noble ideals they once upheld. They have become savage beasts locked in a brutal fight for existence in a world that has forsaken them. Amidst this despair, a ray of hope emerges as their former Chapter Master, Lucian Tiberius, returns to lead the charge. Alongside the Doom Eagles, he marshals an extermination force with one singular purpose: to eradicate the mutated Brothers and cleanse the stain of their existence. The arrival of Lucian Tiberius, a figure once revered and respected, sparks a fragile glimmer of relief among the surviving Imperial forces. His presence promises an end to the grotesque horrors that have plagued the chapter. In the face of despair, they cling to this fleeting thread of optimism, yearning for liberation from the torment endured. Together, Lucian Tiberius and the Doom Eagles unleash a relentless assault. Their firepower and martial prowess converge upon the twisted ranks of the mutated chapter, each strike infused with a fervent desire to end their suffering and bring closure to this dark chapter of history. Yet, despite their combined might and unwavering determination, the mutated Brothers prove a formidable adversary. Their grotesque flesh and unholy resilience grant them an uncanny resistance to destruction. The battle rages on, the clash of blade and bolter echoing across the scarred landscape, but victory remains elusive. As the conflict escalates and the cost rises, a grim realization settles upon the battlefield. The combined force of Lucian Tiberius and the Doom Eagles is insufficient to fully extinguish the twisted presence of the mutated chapter. Faced with no alternative, a desperate decision is made. The planet, the very stage upon which this gruesome chapter met its downfall, is condemned to utter annihilation. The Exterminatus order is issued, and the Atmospheric Incinerator Torpedoes rain upon the doomed world, consuming it in an all-consuming inferno. In the cataclysmic conflagration that ensues, the mutated chapter is obliterated. Nought remains, but smouldering ruins and fading echoes. The pain and agony they endured, the abominations they became, are finally extinguished. The haunting silence that descends upon the scorched remnants of their proud fortress-monastery signals the end of an era. Amidst the aftermath, a bittersweet sense of relief washes over the survivors and witnesses of the chapter's grisly demise. The torment has ended, and the darkness that once engulfed their lives is lifted. The sacrifices made, the battles fought, and the unimaginable horrors endured will forever be etched in their memories. They serve as a solemn reminder of the price paid to rid the galaxy of such a twisted aberration. Ultimately, the chapter's tragic tale concludes with resounding finality. Their name is forever lost to the annals of time. Known only to me as My Curs'ed. The pain and despair that plagued them, the noble ideals corrupted by the monstrous transformation, are laid to rest. Their legacy, once one of honour and heroism, is forever marred by the grotesque fate that befell them. A grim reminder echoes through the annals of the Imperium, warning of the horrors that can befall even the noblest of warriors. Aftermath In the aftermath of the chapter's catastrophic fall and the cruel Exterminatus that befell them and their cherished homeworld, the once-proud warriors, who once stood tall and resolute, are now nought but remnants of an extinguished flame. Their valor and might reduced to scattered embers, dispersed by the merciless winds of fate. In this desolate abyss of despair, where darkness reigns supreme, I, the sole repository of their memory, bear witness to their tragic tale. I, the Genator-Magos, have traversed the charred remains of their ancestral grounds, where once they stood as paragons of strength and glory. Now, all that remains are echoes, whispers carried on the cold gusts of regret. The knowledge of their existence lies solely within the confines of my burdened soul, entrusted to me as an unwelcome gift, bestowed by the cruel hand of destiny. Amidst the desolation, a flicker of a nightmarish return emerged, a mere glimmer amid the ashen wasteland. Deep range scans, conducted with trepidation and a tinge of desperation, reveal a singular artifact buried beneath the layers of desecration. A lone pauldron, battered and scorched, lies entombed within the heart of the world now cloaked in grey shroud. A symbol of a past once revered, now but a relic of a bygone era. Yet, in the depths of despair, a chilling realization descends upon my weary spirit. As I gaze upon the ravaged landscape, a shadow, elusive and enigmatic, dances amidst the ruins. A phantom of movement, defying the logic of survival, defying the very fabric of my understanding. Could it be, against all odds, that a survivor has emerged from the abyss? A solitary figure, defying the ravages of time and the merciless hand of destruction? That image, forever etched upon the tapestry of my tormented mind, shall haunt me till the end of my days. For in that fleeting moment, hope rescinded and dread intertwined, casting a veil of uncertainty over the tragedy that has unfolded. The chapter, now consumed by the flames of oblivion, may yet hold life, a spark refusing to be extinguished. And so, with trepidation and a heart burdened with responsibility, I embark upon a journey into the abyss, driven by an insatiable curiosity and the desperate need to unravel the mysteries that lie shrouded in the aftermath. In the bleakness of this forsaken realm, where life and death dance a macabre waltz, the fate of the fallen chapter hangs in the balance. What awaits me in this realm of sorrow and ruin? Only time will unveil the secrets that lie dormant, waiting to be unearthed in the ashes of their and my own shattered legacies.

Well, something happened this week. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I sat down with the Sternguard and drilled some holes. I did (guess I should say, tried here) the pilot hole trick with my craft knife, then, got to work. The results speak for themselves...aka an obvious first attempt. Little bit of history here. At no point in my hobbying career have I ever used a drill...or done any real converting. The closest I got was swapping heads like the Thousand Sons Rhino I made way back in 2003 (no picture exists sadly) where I stuck on a Thousand Sons head on the chaos space marine body that goes on top of the tank. I remember I also had plans for a Tzeentchian Demon Prince using the superb 2002 Chaos Space Marine Demon Prince as a base with Lord of Change wings and a staff...no, I don't know how 2003 me was going to pull that off. 2025 Me, on the other hand, far less ideas and ambition. This is why I did the barrel drilling. One marine though, suffered for my folly. Live and learn I guess. With the exciting new bit out of the way, the Sternguard got several coats of paint on them. Sadly they weren't finished this week like I wanted but couldn't be helped. They only need armour highlights and robes. Definitely done by next week, I've got Infernus Marines stood waiting. That's enough for now I think, so I'll just say thanks for looking!

Well, its certainly been a hot minute this time hasn't it. I'm not really sure where 2024 went but I didn't get an awful lot done last year, and I'm determined to do things better this time! Last year I progressed a bit more with the Leviathan boxset, and by year's end had just eleven space marines left to do. Which sounds good until you consider that in my last post that number was eighteen and that the space marine contingent started off at twenty four. Yeah, I didn't hobby well. There's a lot of reasons I could give as to why this was the case but it doesn't change the fact that it happened. That's why I want to try and do better this year. To that end, I'm looking at setting myself some challenges. These will be aimed to either do something I've not done ever while also tackling my pile of potential. Let's dive in to it shall we: First challenge: Complete Leviathan Yes, a hold over from last year. This one should be obvious yet the most easiest as all that's left is to finish the Sternguard Veterans and the last five Infernus Marines. The Sternguard are currently at this stage- They've been base coated, washed, had the blue, white relayered. The Sargent has even had further work with his tabard and helmet getting cleaned up. The Infernus Marines are blue, not much to say there. With that in mind, I'm wanting to try something that was suggested to me in the Forums, that of barrel drilling! I've loaned a small drill for a different task (more on that one in a bit), just need to see if I've got the right size bits. Of all the challenges I've got planned, this is the one giving me pause. Had I done this before undercoating anything, I think it'd be easier to get my head around on doing. The second challenge is probably the hardest painting wise. Simply put, I'm painting a Primarch. Lion'el Johnson to be precise, and I'm not just doing it once, I'm doing it twice. See, I got him as part of my desire to collect loyalist primarchs (pretty easy since there is only two of them so far!) However my son also wanted and got him as part of his dark angels army. Benefit here is that in keeping with the rest of his army, he wants winged helmet, while I'm going bare head all the way. Once they're done, my aim is to paint Dark Angels till July comes around. Third Challenge...is a presumption on my part, that there's going to be another Call to Arms event. If there is, it's bug time once again. I've been slowly expanding my Tyranids with 9 more Leapers, a full brood of Hormagaunts and a Hive Tyrant. The Hive Tyrant is the reason I got the drill. Someone at my FLGS suggested that by magnetising all the weapon options and wings, and using the Winged Tyrant legs and tail, that I could have my cake and eat it. I would have a modular Hive Tyrant that could serve as a normal one, a winged one and the Swarmlord if I also do the head (if I can). My original option was just to buy a torso piece from somewhere and have two Hive Tyrants...May still do that, comments are welcome! I'm still tempted to grab a few more bugs to add to the pile maybe a Tyrannofex or a Biovore, maybe one of the new Lictors. Got six months to figure out what I want! After September...depends on how things turn out GW release schedule wise. If a certain faction of Space Marine is released, my nids will finally have their true base rivals (i like to base my armies in opposing pairs, Ultramarines vs Necron, Tyranids vs...well, let's see). Though GW may not get much more money out of me due to another company entering the tabletop market with a franchise I love, I'm sure there's plenty of painting in my future. My plan is to update the blog whenever I hit a milestone (like finishing these bloody Sternguard for instance!) Till next time! (Will hopefully not be another year!)

Well, it's been a while since I blogged last...too long in fact. I was only supposed to have a short break while I finished my Bladeguard and Assault Intercessors (and Bladeguard Ancient, and Captain...). They didn't end up being done till late November time as other things piled up. Here's how they turned out: This led to me finally starting the Marine half of the Leviathan box (I think I said before I wanted it done before New Year...That didn't happen). I started with my favourite Marine sculpts, the Terminators. While I may of saved the best till last with the tyranids, I wasn't following that trend with these. So seven models hit the table (Captain, Librarian, Terminator Squad): and at some point I added the old Terminator Marneus Calgar finecast (I didn't know this when I bought it) model to this. They got a coat of blue, and silver aaannnddd that was it for a month or so. Flash forward to January (same time I revived my thread in the wip area) when I picked up the paintbrush again. I tried something new for these which I had only done in trial cases before, and that was building up to white (and going further for the chest aquillas, up to gold). I worked through dark grey to light grey to white. With the helmets, I worked in as layers, leaving grey showing as shadows. It was a time consuming process but I liked the results. The capes on the captain and Calgar I'm particularly proud of, more so than my primaris calgar. I was grateful that the captain's base gave me an opportunity to do another tyranid...even if it was a dead one. I also attempted my first free handing here, and clearly I need more practice. The rest of the models turned out quite well, I also held back a little on the blue highlights, not sure if it was effective or not. It was about this time I realised that Calgar's little shield wing was glued on by the previous owner the wrong way. I didn't push myself on the Librarian as I should of but the GW standard paint scheme didn't appeal to me. The Terminator Squad though, I'm quite happy with these guys, in fact I'm itching to get the multipart set now, just to have their various weapon options. So, there was 25 models for the space marines in Leviathan, and I've done 7 models here. By my quick and dirty calculations, I've almost done a third. This brings us to the next batch for this mini project: Orto Cassius aside, it's another 7 models (one being the big boi of the Ballistus Dreadnought). Completing these will take me over the half way point. Let's see if I can get them done in under three months this time! People who follow my other thread will have an idea of where I am with these guys... Till next time, Keep hobbying! ZeroWolf

So I’m new to the B&C blog feature, but thought I would use it to post the progress of my new Ultramarines army. I originally intended it to be a a Third Company army, but plans have changed, and I am now planning on building it as a 1st Company Strike Force.

After test with other color schemes and found one I like and have begun painting a test model. It's nowhere near done but I'd figure I'd share it and get some feedback the main body is plate mail metal while the helmet and Aquila is painted banshee brown

Here is my first attempt at a little snippet of fanfiction, along with accompanying pictures...I apologise for the quality! "Brother Gregorius," the Chaplain said, his voice as full of gravel as the ruined battlefield he walked on. The sounds of battle did nothing to muffle his voice. The space marine walking a step behind him didn't speak, as a Judicar, he'd taken a vow of silence, instead he nodded solemnly. He knew what was about to be asked of him, and he hefted his executioners blade in readiness. "This world has been tainted by the Xenos, for every inch of it they have stood on, we will extract the Emperor's vengeance a thousand fold. You know this, correct?" Gregorius nodded again. "When we swing our blessed weapons, we are singing the praises of the Emperor, we are dispensing his justice with every foe we put down. You know this, correct?" the Chaplain stopped, allowing his comrade to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Gregorius turned to him, awaiting the next order. "Then let us go and prove our faith, Brother, our enemies are waiting..." the Chaplain set off again, heading into a mess of buildings. **** Overlord Maultek stood impatiently as his bodyguards surveyed the scene, their warscythes crackling with malicious energy. He rested his own weapon on a rock that he imagined might have been part of the humans primitive dwellings. He'd been tasked with conquering this world, scrubbing it clean of humanity's filthy touch. He had no time for such a trivial matter personally. Still, he'd been told that the orders had been passed down from the Silent King himself till it reached him, and he had no one to toss it on to. The human resistance on this world had tested what little patience he had left. If it'd been up to him completely, he wouldnt have left his tomb ship, choosing to simply bombard the tarnished planet, and it's unpleasant occupants, out of existence. "Sire," the lychguard closest to Maultek said, his metallic voice grating to the Overlords ears. Despite being visibly irritated, the Overlord let him speak, gesturing him to continue. "There's movement ahead." "More useless effort..." Maultek sighed. *** The Chaplain raised his Crozius Arcanum, a sign that they'd found their prey, hhe hated Xenos moving towards them from the other side of the clearing. "Brother Gregorius! Let us show our devotion to the Emperor, and honour our Primarch. We will smite all those in our sight that defile the worlds that belong to our glorious Imperium!" the Chaplain's voice rose higer, reverberating off the skeletal remains of the dingy hab sector turning making it sound more of a dirge. The Judicar, as required, said nothing. Bowing his head as he listened to his Chaplains war prayer. Maultek hesitated when he saw the two large humanoid figures striding towards him and his lychguard. He'd almost enjoyed mowing down the humans he'd come across before, watching as their weapons did nothing. These two, were vastly different. The humans before had fear in their eyes when they beheld him, these two, had nothing but hatred. The lychguard spread out to meet the two space marines head on...

Rite of War: Sky-Hunter Phalanx + HQ: + Praetor [595Pts]: The Burden of Kings (Loyalist only), Warlord Legion Praetor: Frag Grenades, Iron Halo, Krak Grenades, Lightning Claw, Mantle of Ultramar, Master of the Legion, Master-craft one weapon, Thunder Hammer Spatha Combat Bike: Twin-linked Bolter Command Squad: Artificer Armour, Frag Grenades, Krak Grenades Spatha Combat Bike: Twin-linked Bolter 4x Legion Chosen: Bolter, Chainsword, Power Fist 4x Legion Chosen: Bolter, Chainsword, Power Axe Legion Standard Bearer: Chainsword, Combat Shield, Legion Standard, Power Fist Centurion [140Pts]: Librarian, Psychic Discipline: Telepathy, Psychic Hood Librarian: Artificer Armour, Frag Grenades, Krak Grenades, Refractor Field, Chainsword, Force Axe Spatha Combat Bike: Twin-linked Bolter + Elites: + Apothecarion Detachment [180Pts]: Legiones Astartes (X) 2x Apothecary: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Frag Grenades, Heavy Bolter, Krak Grenades, Narthecium Power Weapon: Power Axe Scimitar Jetbike: Heavy Bolter + Troops: + Proteus Land Speeder Squadron [210Pts]: 2x Proteus Land Speeder: Bolt Pistol, Multi-Melta, Multi-Melta Proteus Land Speeder Squadron [210Pts]: 2x Proteus Land Speeder: Bolt Pistol, Multi-Melta, Multi-Melta Sky-Hunter Squadron [245Pts]: Legion Vexilla 5x Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Volkite Culverin Legion Sky-Hunter Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Volkite Culverin Sky-Hunter Squadron [245Pts]: Legion Vexilla 5x Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Volkite Culverin Legion Sky-Hunter Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Volkite Culverin Sky-Hunter Squadron [265Pts]: Legion Vexilla 5x Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Volkite Culverin Legion Sky-Hunter Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Power Fist, Volkite Culverin Sky-Hunter Squadron [265Pts]: Legion Vexilla 5x Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Volkite Culverin Legion Sky-Hunter Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Power Fist, Volkite Culverin + Fast Attack: + Javelin Squadron [210Pts]: 2x Javelin Land Speeder: 2x Lascannons, Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Multi-Melta Javelin Squadron [210Pts]: 2x Javelin Land Speeder: 2x Lascannons, Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Multi-Melta Outrider Squadron [225Pts]: Spatha Combat Bike: Twin-linked Plasma Gun, Legion Vexilla Legion Outrider Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Chainsword 5x Legion Outriders: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword ++ Total: [3,000Pts] ++ I'm making a series of lists that are the 'least' Ultramarines in flavor (mostly to be goofy). Normally I wouldn't use a Telepathy Librarian, but I think a pure jetbike list has a LOT of weaknesses, and lacks the tools to crack Heavy weapons squads or big melee deathstars. The Librarian can support the Plasma bikers, or attach to the big command squad. The Praetor has Battle Hardened, so he is able to tank S8-9 hits for the squad to help them not get blown off the table right away. Javelins are pretty solid tank hunters, and when paired with the Proteus can even do a half decent job of hunting Dreads. The Apothecaries can join whichever Sky-hunters the situation calls for. The 4 squads are identical, save for 2 of them having power fists on sergeants. In theory 2 of them stay back and score while the other two can move forward to be the bulk of my mid field push. It's never going to be a crushing victory IMO, but its a fun army to work towards. All I need is 7 more boxes of Jetbikes.... Alternatively... I could drop the Apothecaries and Outriders to add a Primus Medicae and upgrade the Command Squad and all the characters to Jetbikes. Thematically an all Grav list sounds very cool, though of dubious practical value.

I'm torn on what weapons to equip on my Cataphractii Command Squad. Right now I have the banner, and 2 chosen running hammers, with 2 more chosen equipped with dual lightning claws. In theory this should give me decent coverage against other terminators plus some extra killing power in case they get bogged down against a larger group of power armor that finds a way to be stubborn/fearless. My group usually avoids named characters/primarchs without prior discussion, this is a Friday night pickup games at the FLGS list. Nothing too overbearing I hope. Rite of War: The Logos Lectora (UM) + HQ: + Centurion [95Pts] Master of Signals Bolt Pistol, Chainsword Praetor, Cataphractii [655Pts]: The Aegis of Wisdom, Warlord Cataphractii Terminator Armour, Combi-Bolter, Grenade Harness, Thunder Hammer Command Squad, Cataphractii Cataphractii Chosen: Combi-Bolter, Thunder Hammer Cataphractii Chosen: Combi-Bolter, Thunder Hammer 2x Cataphractii Chosen w/Lightning Claws: 2x Pair of Lightning Claws Cataphractii Standard Bearer w/Melee Weapon: Thunder Hammer Land Raider Proteus Carrier: Twin-linked Bolter, Twin-linked Lascannon + Elites: + Contemptor Dreadnought Talon [180Pts] Gravis Melta Cannon, Gravis Power Fist with in-built Combi-Bolter Contemptor Dreadnought Talon [180Pts] Gravis Melta Cannon, Gravis Power Fist with in-built Combi-Bolter + Troops: + Breacher Squad [215Pts] Legion Breacher Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Thunder Hammer, Volkite Charger 8x Breachers: Bolt Pistol, Volkite Charger Breacher w/ Options: Bolt Pistol, Legion Vexilla, Volkite Charger Tactical Squad [175Pts] Legion Tactical Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Minor Combi-Weapon - Grenade Launcher, Power Fist 8x Legionaries: Bolt Pistol, Bolter Legionary w/ Options:: Bolt Pistol, Bolter, Legion Vexilla Rhino Transport Tactical Squad [175Pts] Legion Tactical Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Minor Combi-Weapon - Grenade Launcher, Power Fist 8x Legionaries: Bolt Pistol, Bolter Legionary w/ Options:: Bolt Pistol, Bolter, Legion Vexilla Rhino Transport + Fast Attack: + Locutarus Storm Squad [150Pts] Locutarus Strike Leader: Argean Power Sword, Bolt Pistol 4x Locutarus: Argean Power Sword, Bolt Pistol Seeker Squad [235Pts] Legion Seeker Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Kraken Bolter Legion Seeker: Augury Scanner, Bolt Pistol, Kraken Bolter 8x Legion Seeker: Bolt Pistol, Kraken Bolter Rhino Transport Sky-Hunter Squadron [220Pts] Legion Sky-Hunter Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol, Volkite Culverin, Power Axe Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Legion Vexilla, Volkite Culverin 3x Legion Sky-Hunter: Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Volkite Culverin + Heavy Support: + Heavy Support Squad [295Pts]: Lascannon Legion Support Sergeant: Artificer Armour, Bolt Pistol 8x Legionaries: 8x Bolt Pistol Legionary w/ Options: Bolt Pistol, Legion Vexilla Leviathan Dreadnought Talon [305Pts] Cyclonic Melta Lance, Leviathan Siege Claw 2x Twin-linked Volkite Calivers Scorpius Squadon [120Pts]: Scorpius

Hey guys, So to start off, I dont know if this list will ever get to face off on a table, but in case it does get the chance, i want to make it playable enough for it to do so. The main purpose is to be an art project of sorts, making all the unique units the XIII have, and subsequent support units to go along with them to make it a viable force. It's all being made with truescale versions of the models; not getting into the specifics there, but they'll be a bit taller than a primaris mini and have fancy armour bits to make them look more roman in design, as part of keeping it a project that'll be fun to build and paint. I'm going Pride of the Legion because i want mainly infantry, and the majority of the XIII's unique units are all infantry anyway. I have the following idea for the initial units so far: Remus Ventanus..........175pts Iron Halo, Bolt Pistol, Nuncio-vox, Melta Bombs, Frag/Krak Grenades, Artificer Armour, Legion Standard, Phaethon Invictarus Suzerain Squad..........225pts base 5 Models, all with a Legatine Axe, Argyrum pattern boarding shield, Frag/Krak Grenades, Artificer Armour, +5 Plasma Pistols This unit i can make a Retinue for Remus, freeing up an elite slot Praetorian Breacher Squad..........270pts 10 Models (base 5+5), all with a Bolt Pistol, Boarding Shield, Frag/Krak Grenades, 7 with Power Swords, +3 Legatine Axes Ultramarines Nemesis Destroyer Squad..........195pts base 10 Models, all with a Bolt Pistol, Chainsword, Frag/Krak/Rad Grenades, 8 with Mortifier Bolters, +2 Heavy Bolters with Suspensor Webs Honoured Telemechrus..........240pts Kheres Assault Cannon, Gravis Power Fist with in-built Combi-Bolter Fulmentarus Terminator Squad..........290pts base 5 Models, all with a Combi-Bolter, Power Weapon, Fulmentarus Missile Array, Cataphractii Armour Fulmentarus Terminator Squad..........315pts base 5 Models, all with a Combi-Bolter, Fulmentarus Missile Array, Cataphractii Armour, 1 Power Weapon, 3 Power Fists, 1 Chainfist Veteran Squad..........315pts 10 Models (base 5+5), all with a Bolt Pistol, Frag/Krak Grenades, 8 with Nemesis Bolters, +2 Missile Launchers Legion Tactical Squad..........200pts 20 Models (base10+10) all with a Bolt Pistol, Bolter, Frag/Krak Grenades Locutarus Storm Squad..........310pts 10 Models (base5+5), all with Argean Power Sword, Warhawk Pump Pack, Artificer Armour, Frag/Krak Grenades, 7 with Bolt Pistols, 2+Strike Leader with Plasma Pistol This gets me already up to a whooping 2535pts. Adding Guilliman makes it a clean 3000pts. This basically covers all 8 unique units they have at this point if i include Guilliman. It also leaves open a spot to split the tactical squad into 2 groups of 10 for objectives if i needed to.

Afternoon all. My local Warhammer shop is running a Zone Mortalis campaign soon which I'm keen to take part in. I'm haven't had much of a chance to play HH 2.0 yet, so still fuzzy on most rules and building an army for this edition/ruleset. I know how to build a list, but finer points of wargear selections and unit combos still elude me. Below is my first attempt at a list for Zone Mortalis. HQ Legion Cataphractii Centurion with Legatine Axe, Combi-Melta and Grenade Harness Legion Chaplain with Crozius and Plasma Pistol Troops Legion Tactical Squad with Vexilla, Augury Scanner, bayonets and Sergeant with Power Sword and Artificer Armour Legion Tactical Squad with Vexilla, Augury Scanner, bayonets and Sergeant with Power Sword and Artificer Armour Elites Cataphractii Terminator Squad with 4x lightning claws, 3x volkite chargers, Plasma blaster, and vexilla, sergeant with grenade harness, volkite charger and thunder hammer 10 man Praetorian Breacher Squad with vexilla, sergeant with legatine axe I may go traitor for this force to use the Pride's Dark Power warlord trait, as the extra reaction in the assault phase might be quite useful in a close quarters game. Plus it plays into the narrative I'm writing for my Heresy era Ultramarines where they are the force that will later go on to become the Libators successor chapter, one of the more brutal and uncompromising UM successors. Please rip this to shreds. My gut feeling right now is that list lacks high strength shooting/melee incase of dreadnoughts, and I have the parts on hand to make a Fulmentarus squad. I've also got a variety of characters, contemptors and Cataphractii and Indomitus Terminators with various options which can be made ready in time.

Can an Ultramarines Warlord with Adept of the Codex (the UM-specific Warlord Trait) use it to gain the refund on Command Points spent on Stratagems used 'before the battle', such as Relics of the Chapter or Chapter Master? As near as I can tell, the Warlord Trait is selected during army selection, before the Stratagems; however, it also states that the Warlord must be alive to use it, and I don't think anything is 'alive' before the battle. Thoughts?