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I've been a long time lurker on here (since 2007 I believe) and finally grew some stones and signed up properly. I'm using this thread to document my return to 40k after not touching anything for 17 years. What will follow is my slow progress on my own Astartes chapter; the Ardent Swords. First up will be the chapter master and honour. The chapter master is still waiting for some bits to arrive so he'll probably be postponed to January at this rate. Hope you all enjoy watching my journey back into the grim darkness. First up; the honour guard. These chaps are built on the reiver base with extra bits stuck on. First time doing hand transplants with these guys and was more fiddly than expected.

Hello fellow frater, My hobby butterfly is in overdrive again and sweeping me up into the world of Mantis Warrior space marines. On the surface I love the colour scheme. But recently I'd seen some inspiring artwork that set me on this path. @Wolfdawgart on twitter has done a few pictures of Mantis Warriors (amongst other things!) that really struck a cord. They just seemed to suit the phobos armour so well and really made sense of the whole Vanguard Space Marine release for me. Before that I had avoided them and actually Primaris marines altogether. Here is a pic of his alongside a Marine I made to see if I could do a little homage... I also built and painted a test model to see what that might be like. I even got the airbrush out of it's decade of stasis. I got a real sense I wanted a jungle setting for these and a real Predator vibe. Maybe some striking scorpion influence, or was that just the colours talking. Some of you will have seen this guy already from my other thread. I had a go at the markings on the helmet from the artwork here. I was then having Ideas for the different types of units I might include in the army. My friends IRL are doing a crusdae for 9th so I'll be trying to get 25PL together. I've put some models together to test out ideas for various units. It's a lot of test models at this point. I put together this reiver to try to get that Praying Mantis insect feel. This is another infiltrator, tried to get a bit of predator influence in this one. Bladeguard Veteran idea, using Phobos armour and with original Mantis ninja influence but also an insectoid shield in this context. I was thinking now that I might go full Phobos armour even for units (like the bladeguard that aren't). I then looked at the Gravis statline and had an idea. I was thinking about the Mantis Warriors being Renegades and decimated by the attacks of the Carcharadons. They would need new recuits and bionics. They are limited/punished to have small numbers. I was thinking a desperation to earn lost honour and re-establish themselves in the imperium. So crossing the Rubicon, Bionics, new recruits from varied sources and even full on robots might be on the cards for them. So here is an idea for an Eradicator, it's just a head swap currently to get an idea... I've since been working on an incursor unit taking the ninja, robot and insect ideas further... Migs of Iron sleet (Migsula on insta) did AMAZING blood angel scouts using phobos armour and admech backpacks. They were a huge influence on these Incursors! So it's been a lot of experimenting and fiddly faffing about. But I feel I've got some ideas to work with here and look forward to getting more painted and also getting stuck into some of these ideas for the various units. Please let me know what you think. KDC

Hi there folks, this is going to be a log for me to post up all those small one off projects that we find ourselves constantly drawn to. There's going to be a mix of building and painting projects, maybe even some terrain too! To start off with I've got an Executioner/Judiciar from the Dark Angels, or perhaps one of their successor chapters, I'd like to hear peoples' opinions on the model, both in general and in regards to what he should have adorning his power pack. Plain: Angel: Icon: Banner: Skulls: Thanks for looking and if anyone has alternative suggestions for decoration, please suggest those too!

"And so, the grey-clad came from the outer night, and their jagged maw did swallow the stars, and their black gaze did mirror the void of oblivion. Their pale shadows fell upon the servants of the skulled-one with great fury from the darkness, unseen as the beast that lurks beneath the black waters, death for death, blood for blood... Thus were the sons of Sanguinius bought respite, and did turn back upon their pursuers, and so were the damned traitors of the false gods driven unto their ruin." A bit about my history with 40k. Hello all my first post in this group. I have been playing 40k on and off since my first day entering a games workshop store on the launch day of the second edition 40k, at the age of 6. I convinced my mum to buy me the boxed set and a pant set and after seeing the dark angels on a display I made my first dark angel army with a catch, I painted them in grey.. I continued with my dark angels through to my teenage years, when i branched out playing necromunda and other tabletop rpgs. Once I hit my late teens my painting level had become good enough that my friends were regularly asking me to paint their models for them in turn leading me to start my own commision business. However this then left me with little time for my own armies and even less time for gaming. Moving through my 20s and early 30s I concentrated on mainly on commision work and playing RPGS Since then I started building a new army around late 7th edition with the shattered legion which I unfortunately had to sell. I never played much of 8th edition and skipped getting the starter set and was mainly painting whatever took my fancy at the time. With 9th here I've got excited again during lockdown I have painted a full 2000 point eldar army with custom scheme., and with the launch of indomitus I have decided to start a marine army.

+++ Quintus let the slightest sigh escape his lips and he watched the coldness of the air trace the outline of his breath. He could hear the rain pattering across what little remained of the building’s roof. He found it calming. The arrhythmic sound helped clear his thoughts in the remaining moments before his squad would strike. For three days, he and his fellow Eliminators waited inside one of the only buildings that still overlooked the city’s main roadway. Before the Tyranids landed in force and began reshaping the planet with their foul biology, the roadway bore the name “Petitioner's Lane.” But any petitioners who once walked these streets fled long ago or suffered worse fates at the hands of the city’s new occupants. The Eliminator sergeant could hear the xenos moving below on the street. The telltale click of Tyranid claws on the shattered masonry set his teeth on edge. Their corruption offended him and he could feel sheer hate pulsing behind his eyes. For three days, Quintus’ squad had watched the aliens construct and grow their horrible breeding pools all across the city. Lesser forms, with the sheen of birthing fluid still coating their skin, streamed out of these organic factories constantly. The screeching never ceased. The enemy chittered and screamed of a victory that the Imperial Fists would soon deny them. The largest of these breeding pools sat across the lane from their building. If the swarm required it, the pool could create massive creatures capable of matching a tank in size and firepower. Quintus and his men knew this from their briefing before deploying three days ago. The briefing where the Captain of the Fifth asked that they bear the indignity of waiting inside an occupied city, watching the foe corrupt it, and not firing a single shot until a high value target revealed itself. Miserable work by the standards of any warrior. But Squad Quintus obeyed and waited. They waited for the thunder. Then the thunder came. And the sky opened. Thunderhawk Gunships in the bright yellow livery of the Imperial Fists appeared suddenly through the clouds and rushed towards the ground. Smaller craft danced in front of them and rained death down on the flying Tyranid forms that swarmed up towards them. The Eliminators watched their brothers descend to the planet wreathed in steel and with their colors born proudly. Quintus kept his misgivings to himself and turned back towards the Tyranid pool. The surface of the pool began bubbling with gestation and Quintus motioned for his two brothers. The knelt on either side of him, las fusils at the ready and steadied on the broken windows that looked out across the lane. Something massive took shape in the alien structure below them. Even in a half-formed state, Quintus could tell that the creature could easily crush an Astartes underfoot with its sheer weight. A pulsating cannon formed along the creature’s spine and it gave an ear-splitting roar of pain as the hive mind of the Tyranids spontaneously rewrote its genetic makeup. Quintus motioned the word for “wait” in battle-sign. His hands tensed as he did so. After three days, condemning his brothers to waiting for even another second felt like cruelty of the highest order. But as the beast below emerged from the fluid that birthed it, Quintus finally loosed his hand and pointed directly at the Tyranid monstrosity. At this command, the two Eliminators beside him opened up with a volley of shots from their las fusils. Beams of white-hot energy sprang forth from the barrels of their guns and punctured the newborn creature faster than the eye could track. The beams both penetrated and cooked the Tyranid. Quintus watched with no small satisfaction as the beast’s many eyes began to boil and then burst from the las fusils’ heat. It made one last whimper of pain and then fell to the ground with a thud. The comm unit in Quintus’ ear buzzed with static for a moment before a voice commenced speaking. “You did well, brothers. We have landed. Regroup with us at the main gate to the city. The Tyranids’ infection ends here.” At those words, Quintus felt his muscles relax. The tension of the three-day wait left him at the knowledge that his brothers safely made planetfall. He released another quiet sigh as his brothers ritualistically checked their weapons. After they finished their inspections, Quintus motioned towards his two fellow Eliminators and they all began the long walk down towards the Petitioner’s Lane.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ “When you are beset on all sides, and hope sieves through your fingers, look to the skies. During these hours of darkness storms will gather to blanket the Emperor’s realm, and from them, he will cast down lances of lightning upon the unrighteous. Look to the skies, from there comes salvation.” -16th Canto, the Saga of the Tempest +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Welcome to the beginning of a new Saga. This blog will be a record of my ongoing project to create my own little corner of the Warhammer 40,000 universe; The Storm Lancers chapter of Adeptus Astartes. It will be a repository for the lore and writings I've come up with in support of this hobby project, as well as actual progress pictures of self-same project. The goal is to eventually create a full Battle Company of the Storm Lancers, specifically the 2nd Company, led by Captain Olyndicus. I'm hoping that posting this stuff, both pictures and fiction, will help keep me motivated to actually finish it, as I have a terrible habit of leaving my projects half-finished, both in this hobby and in other creative pursuits. The original inspiration for this project comes from a deep love of one of the core features of the setting: the existence of feral and low-tech worlds. It is one of the ideas that just drips with the grim-darkness that the setting is built on; that in a vast interstellar empire the lives of any great mass of it's citizens are so unimportant that they will allow entire planets to live in ignorance of such wonders of technology as gunpowder or sanitation, while others are granted access to life extending wonder drugs and other science fiction miracles. And to top it all off, apparently the genetically engineered super soldiers that help safeguard this horrible institution prefer to recruit from these places? It boggles the mind! It's such a ridiculous concept that it has been lampshaded in-universe, notably by the returned primarch Roboute Guilliman. So of course I have wanted to do something with this concept since roughly 4th edition. And this is what I have come up with: The Storm Lancers, Eternal Guardians of Taloth and Megiddo An Ultima refounding of a chapter wholly lost in the defense of the Imperium centuries ago, who now stand guard on the far side of the Cicatrix Maledictum against the ravages of the encroaching night. They seek glory, the currency of heroes, in order to work themselves into the never ending Saga as the galaxy burns around them. Those that benefit from their salvation would care little for the motivations of these Angels of Death, nor would they know the enormous cost of such martial zeal. Not since the crusade fleets of Indomitus deposited the Storm Lancers on the fortress-moon of Andunor has the chapter been at full strength, and the urge to take the fight to the enemies of mankind threatens to undo every strategy undertaken by the chapter. So far, I have completed a fair number of the core of the battle company, the Intercessor squads. I am waiting on some custom transfers that I have had commissioned, so none of these models have any transfers or markings on them yet. There are also quite a few details that need to be finished, as only one of the Sergeant's Thunderspears are fully painted. Due to the curious nature of the chapter’s history, the culture of the Storm Lancers is one that owes much to the world from which it recruits it’s warriors. The original chapter did have a culture that reflected the founding progenitor it hailed from and millennia of service, but that has been almost entirely lost. The primaris marines who formed the initial core of the refounded chapter were similarly only barely affiliated with the culture of the White Scars from whose gene-seed they were forged, being that they had been created in the gene-foundries of Belisarius Cawl on holy Mars. And once removed from the fleets of the Indomitus Crusade, that influence was gone. The only one left was that of Taloth, and the determined aspirants and later astartes that once called that world home. Now, almost two hundred years since the end of the crusade and the refounding of the Storm Lancers, this cultural shift has taken many forms, and has reshaped much of the chapter. New forms and rituals are undertaken in addition to the rites laid down in the Codex Astartes. New battle formations and honorifics have been devised and bestowed based on ones common to the proud warriors of their native world. The most obvious examples of this change are the chapter’s approach to warfare, the importance of records and rituals, and the spiritual links between tribe and chapter. On Taloth, war is mostly waged through the use of cavalry and chariots. Most warriors are deployed at least initially on the backs of beasts of burden, with even infantry using mounts to redeploy rapidly in the manner of ancient dragoons from cultures on old Terra. Large six legged creatures serve as fast moving support platforms for all this cavalry, with large howdah perched on the back crewed by multiple warriors. When these natives became aspirants and eventually astartes, they brought with them this love of mounted warfare. They descend into war like a thunderstorm. Fire support obliterates enemy emplacements and pins the foe in place, allowing grav-transports to surge forward and rapidly deploy squads into the deadliest portions of the assault. Their eager cargo then surge forth and put the gene-wrought might of the adeptus astartes to singular use by tearing out the heart of the enemy in brutal close combat. And all the while, this brutal charge is carried forth by the sheer martial joy exuded from these ceramite giants. Songs carried by gene-enhanced lungs, great booming bursts of laughter and prose, all of this sounds as a clarion trumpet while the astartes of the Storm Lancers set about their righteous butchery. In addition to the intercessors, here are some models that I love the look of, but sincerely wished had better rules in game: Mythology and superstition even shapes how the marines view certain duties. On Taloth, spirits and creatures are said to haunt the world. Some of them serve Dyeus Pahter, serving as his servants and equerries, while others act in their own interests, both malevolent and benign. Of these, the most dreaded and feared are the furious dead, the Ve'co Marvos. Tales describe them akin to flocks of screaming razors, spirits stalking the dark and lonely places of Taloth searching for those who would be made dead, or are about to die. Their frightful keening and fury heralds the final end for anyone unfortunate enough to come across them, and it is said that those who hear the cries of the Ve'co Marvos while in the wilderness are marked for death. Wards and charms are worn by those who travel between the tribes to keep them away, while specific runes are carved and stones are raised to draw them to the places where the dead should dwell, like cairns and barrows. Now, when Storm Lancers dawn the armor and death masks of Reiver squads, instead of wearing their normal livery, they have come to paint their armor black, and cover themselves in the runes and hexes of death. They call to themselves all the spirits of death and fear that they knew when they were merely frightful children on Taloth, for they have become fear; They are the Ve'co Marvos, and their vox-screams of rage mark the bloody end for any enemies of mankind unlucky enough to hear them. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it, for there will be more to come!

Since the start of 9th edition I've been playing around with army lists for the Crimson Fist army I started at the beginning of 8th, when the Primaris line was first released. I've got quite a lot of models now, painted to a standard I'm pretty happy with. I'm faced with a choice to either continue with this army or make something new for 9th. It's not a particularly urgent decision, since I'm in lockdown and can't play any actual games. Good time to paint models though. So the idea is to build on what I've got already to have an army that can properly play 9th edition 40k but that still makes sense to play as Fists. This is tricky because our CTs and super doctrine both took nerfs in the new book and FAQ. My stalker bolt rifles and Onslaught Gatling Cannons won't benefit from Legacy of Dorn any more. On the other hand though, Pedro continues to be pretty useful, thanks to his auras granting Obsec and +1A. These are serious traits to have in 9th edition, which is all about controlling midfield. As such I've designed an army to take and hold the centre of the board through sheer brute force, rather than any particularly clever tricks. Here's the current iteration, which I'd value your opinion on. Pedro Kantor 155 Warlord Primaris Librarian 95 Null Zone Psychic Fortress Probably some sort of relic - not sure what. 10 Intercessors 220 Auto Bolt Rifles 2 Auxiliary Grenade Launchers Power Fist 10 Intercessors 220 Auto Bolt Rifles 2 Auxiliary Grenade Launchers Power Fist 10 Intercessors 220 Bolt Rifles or maybe stalkers 2 Auxiliary Grenade Launchers Power Fist Primaris Apothecary 80 5 Aggressors 225 Fragstorm Grenade Launchers Redemptor 185 Icarus pod Onslaught Gatling Cannon Redemptor 185 Icarus pod Onslaught Gatling Cannon 5 Inceptors 250 10 Plasma Exterminators 3 Attack Bikes 165 Multimeltas I don't actually spend any CPs in army creation or deployment, which is nice. I could, perhaps to get something like the Eye of Hypnoth for one of my Characters from the Imperial Fists relics. I could just have a dreadnought use Wisdom of the Ancients but it would be nice to have the option of using that for rerolls to hit, to increase the places I could deploy the Inceptors. So the basic idea is that the three Characters, dreadnoughts and Aggressors will usually be pretty central. Intercessors can combat squad as required to cover bits of the board. I could potentially swap out some intercessors for incursors. This might help me do early game secondaries and screen out deep strikers. I do like the weight of dakka the intercessors give, but the incursors do fairly well on that score as well. I'm having a fun time chopping up an Invader ATV and making it into an attack bike. I think these are marginally better than Eradicators for me, due to their extra wound and the fact their multimeltas benefit from Legacy of Dorn. They can also split fire if needed and move a lot faster than Eradicators can. If I had any kind of deployment schenanigans the Eradicators would be better, but I don't. I've left out my Leviathan, which feels a bit odd. Lacking the Core keyword really hurts it though I think. I'd love to use the strat to make it have every doctrine so it could maintain Legacy of Dorn, but without that I think the Redemptors might be better. It's still a fantastic firebase though.

Inspired by some of the great work here I have decided to share the models that I've painted for my (constantly evolving) homebrew chapter the Redemptors. I will be regularly updating this area with information and pictures as they develop. Chapter Datafile: Redemptors Founding: 2nd Founding/M31 Progenitor Legion: Ultramarines Known Descendants: none Homeworld: Arcadia Allegiance: Loyalist Notable History: Stationed in the eastern portion of the Ultima Segmentum during the Great Crusade as a part of the 7th Chapter of the Ultramarines, those that were to become the Redemptors were not on Calth during the atrocities perpetrated by the Word Bearers. They did not hear of the Word Bearers' betrayal until much later, too late to assist in the defense of Calth and the 500 Worlds. When they were finally able to make their way to the Ultramar region, thanks to the beacon of Pharos, they found that a clear divide had formed between those that had been in and around Calth and those that had not. At the request of the captain leading this group of Ultramarines they were sent back to the eastern portion of the Ultima Segmentum to protect the eastern borders of the Imperium. They could not face to be in the presence of their fellow Ultramarines feeling as if they had failed protect their brothers in their greatest hour of need. This group of Ultramarines formed a small fortress on the planet of Arcadia. Eventually this planet would become the homeworld of the Redemptors when they became their own chapter during the 2nd Founding in M31. Arcadia was an agriworld with limited industrialization. Referred to as 'The Garden' by its inhabitants, Arcadia was selected by the Redemptors as a place of solace which must be defended from the Imperium's enemies. After the destruction of Calth, Arcadia and the surrounded region was seen as a place of new beginnings for the Ultramarines, who would later become the Redemptors. Arcadia was an idyllic vision of all that was good about Humanity and its expansion throughout the galaxy. The Mechanicum had not been allowed to ravage the land with sprawling factories and forges as it had in so many other planets during the Great Crusade. Arcadia was similar to the 500 Worlds before the destruction of Calth and the Ruinstorm. However, the Edenic way of life on Arcadia was not to last, in M36. During the Age of Apostasy, as the Imperium was wracked by civil war, Arcadia was devastated by an incursion of the Death Guard. Plague and disease followed in their wake. The war was long and brutal, Mortarian's legion had established a foothold on Arcadia and no amount of bombardment would dislodge them from the planet. The Redemptors had to fight on the Death's Guard's terms; brutal trench warfare lasted for many years. Eventually the Death Guard were expelled from Arcadia but the cost was great. Fully half of the Redemptors were killed in the conflict and Arcadia's landscape had changed. No longer did forests and fields cover the planet. Instead, craters and ruined machines of war dotted the landscape. The blight that followed in the steps of the Death Guard eventually dissipated (unlike natural blight, that of Mortarian's sons is quick and instantaneous but seems to require their presence to sustain itself) but the damage had been done. The Redemptors did what they could to help the populace rebuild but Arcadia has never fully recovered. The Adeptus Astartes are both a boon and a curse to a world such as Arcadia. They offer protection but destruction seems to follow them wherever they choose to set up operations. The ravaging of Arcadia led to the Redemptors adopting the saying, "Et in Arcadia ego" in memory of the idyllic world how it once was. The name Redemptors was given to the newly formed Chapter to reflect the self-held belief that they needed to atone for their absence at Calth. Their Chapter heraldry, the Fleur de lis was inspired by the ancient Terran crusader Sharlmaen c. M1. The red face plate and gauntlets represent the Chapter’s self-inflicted censure for not arriving at Calth in time to fight the traitorous Word Bearers. The Redemptors have retained the red marks of shame on their battle plate as a reminder of their past failures. The Redemptors zealously defend the eastern area of the Ultima Segmentum from all xenos and traitor legions. In the last few centuries the Redemptors had participated in numerous battles with the T'au empire and the resurgent Death Guard. ***Below and in following posts I will be posting pictures of models that I am currently working on and have finished.*** Redemptors attacking a fortified Death Guard position. Wounded Redemptor - finished this guy last night.

Here's a batrep I did up for a 2K Maelstrom game vs the heinous Admech. They apparently thought Guilliman was going to appoint Cawl as the Archmagos of the Admech and all hell broke lose and Ultramarines were being attacked all over Mars.... Here's a pretty pivotal moment.... ++ This is not an Ultramarine going into a donut shop. It's 'counts as' Calgar going toe to toe with an Admech Knight. The Inceptors and the Ultramarines' back line watch on in disbelief (at the insane heroism or stupidity is yet to be determined) ++ Check it out here: http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/336907-prots-quick-batrep-ultramarines-vs-admech-2k-maelstrom/?p=4826198

Hello all! It's been a while since I was last active on this forum and I notice you've since invited xenos and all sorts of other denizens of the galaxy to poke their foot in the door! Here are some pics of my latest project, a Squat 'count-as' Space Marine force. I've not made huge amounts of progress on painting them, but I'm really loving the models so far: Scout snipers: Tactical squad: Techmarine with Thunderfire / Quad Cannon: Sternguard: Captain: I've got a few other bits to build including a unit of Centurions inspired by this excellent conversion, a Land Speeder (Gunhauler), a rhino (Goliath) and a termite. Watch this space for updates, would love to hear your thoughts, feedback and suggestions for the army!

They lurched forward in waves, unnatural and rancid figures, resembling Space Marines but their countenances blighted and sullied with the stench of decay. Murky swarms of flies churned around them as they shuffled along on deformed limbs. Their rusted armor was greasy with the mucus that oozed from pocked carapaces bestrewn with sores. They held oxidized, grime-coated weapons in arms disfigured by foul disease. Despite their decomposing demeanors, these disgusting parodies of Space Marines were still formidable enemies. Wherever their weapons hit, men fell screaming, dark strains of crippling sickness spreading through their bodies. Weapons barely even fazed them, blasts and bolts absorbed into gnarled fusions of tissue and ceramite plate. Although the Guardsmen outnumbered them many times over, nothing seemed to interrupt the lethargic, scattered march of the Plague Marines. A discordant symphony of piercing shrieks, guttural death-rattles and the buzzing of warp-spawned pests followed them. Lieutenant Selwyn Barras cursed the day he had ever set foot on Ephesos. His regiment had come to the feudal world in response to bombastic claims that the dead were rising and slaughtering the human population. Barras’ superiors had put down the preliminary reports to the superstitious hysteria of barely-civilized serfs toiling in dark lowlands, growing meager rice in paddy fields. Following their deployment, however, regimental commanders soon assessed the blunt reality. Epidemics had ravaged Ephesos for months, but rather than alerting Terra to the outbreaks, the planetary governor had remained doggedly focused on ensuring that the world supplied its regular tithe of rice bushels to the Imperium. The governor and his staff had been the only ones off-planet to know about the hastily-dug mass graves containing the hundreds of thousands of peasants claimed by the spreading pestilence. They had broken their silence only when reanimated corpses had clambered out of their crude, shared tombs, ravaging all living things lucklessly in their paths. Fortunately, the mindless undead could not hope to match the exceptional training and veteran leadership of an Imperial Guard regiment. Rot rendered once-human bodies into soft meat easily torn apart by laser fire. Defeating the zombie hordes had proved more time-consuming than challenging, and in a matter of weeks, most of Ephesos’ key cities had been reclaimed by the Astra Militarum. Nature had not borne the plagues, nor their horrific creations. Unbeknownst to everyone, a Death Guard warband had instigated it all, and they were none too pleased at the disruption of their plans. They had attacked overnight, hobbling across the horizon. Regimental headquarters had instructed Barras to defend a dilapidated fortification along a stone wall running from a great river to a small inlet of a distant sea. The primitive masons who had constructed the barricade, with their highly limited knowledge of the universe in which they lived, would never have fathomed that the bulwark would someday be a citadel for the Imperial Guard against infernal demi-gods. “Not much we can do without plasma weapons, much less armored support,” Barras murmured to himself, chewing on his lower lip. He let out a troubled sigh. Commissar Aelia Tremelle, an ever-present face on the frontlines, could read the concern on Barras’ face as they observed the Plague Marines easily routing the forward positions. “The Emperor protects!” she yelled over the din of battle. What Tremelle lacked in persuasion she made up for in force of will. She was an ardent believer in the Imperium, and it was not hard to share her certainty, to emulate her zeal and unquestioning loyalty. Usually when Barras spied Tremelle’s peaked hat and fancily decorated coat, it bolstered his morale, reminded him that the all-powerful God-Emperor safeguarded humanity, against enemies both material and immaterial. This time was different. He reckoned by morning it was more probable he and the rest of the unit would be host to maggots rather than Tremelle’s unflappable passion. He buried his pessimism, though, knowing he could not risk revealing it. Tremelle would have used it as an excuse for a summary execution, but Barras did not fear his own death. He was more afraid that his despair would dishearten the rank-and-file, the men and women who depended on him for strength and guidance. Tremelle inspired them with moral purity, but it was from Barras they looked for leadership. If they saw him wavering, giving in to doubt and fear, they would resign themselves to annihilation. It was unlikely they could win against heretic Astartes, of course, but victory was not the goal now. Their objective was to offer the strongest resistance they could muster, to not give a single inch freely to the approaching traitors and their Chaos overlords. He grabbed the Aquila necklace he wore and pressed it against his lips. Readying his bolt pistol, he turned from Tremelle to face the soldiers who had fixed their wide eyes upon him, their las-rifles primed. His heart thudded in his chest in anticipation as he searched for the words. “Have no fear! We will never surrender! We fight for humanity and the Emperor! All of you: die standing! Be ready to greet the Emperor with pride!” Tremelle cheered first as he finished, a booming hurrah, which the enlisted ranks copied with raucous shouting of their own. The speech, as brief as it was, had done its job. Barras aimed toward the Plague Marines and fired. Lasers flashed past him, hitting their targets with great accuracy, but with minimal effect. The Death Guard traitors kept up their relentless march, cascades of shells spewing from their filth-encrusted weapons. Beside him, the side of Tremelle’s head exploded outward in a gory mess. Her corpse toppled over in the same direction seconds later. A determined Guardsman took her place. Tremelle had often spoke of her demise in hallowed, sacred terms, promising it would be a noble sacrifice. In truth, Barras saw nothing poetic or dignified about it. Instead, he wished that he would meet his death as quickly and unexpectedly as she had. “Look!” Barras swung his head around and saw a trooper pointing heavenward. Following the upturned finger with his eyes, Barras noticed a trail of fire blazing across the sky. It looked as though a meteor storm had suddenly broken out over Ephesos, another ominous omen to go along with the dead rising and demonic corruption. He could not long take his gaze away from the oncoming scourge; their drumming bolters would not permit them to be ignored. Each concussive shot that landed sent dirt, blood and viscera flying. It took every ounce of willpower to take decent aim and fire, and every fiber of his courage not to lose his nerve when he saw a Plague Marine disregard the shot when it landed. The only weapon he possessed which was serving its function was his faith, for it was that alone that kept him rigid to where he stood. Providence appeared to reward that faith. As the apparent meteoroids drew nearer, gaining ever more spectacular speed, it became clear they were something else entirely. They were drop pods of the Adeptus Astartes, and with ear-popping booms they plunged into the earth to the west of Barras’ position. Rocks and rubble sailed high in the air. Almost immediately pod doors whisked open, releasing their enormous occupants. The head of every soldier in Barras’ unit, the lieutenant himself included, had turned to gawk at the Space Marines in awe. In their power armor, they stood just over eight feet tall. To call them colossuses would barely do them justice. Despite looking like the figures of men, they were nevertheless alien and threatening, exuding auras of overwhelming violence. Their faces were hidden behind their helms, muzzle-mouthed and skull-faced, with piercing red lenses. Their armor was a pale tone of gray with yellow trim, and on their left pauldron a red scorpion raised its stinger menacingly against a white circle. In fluid motions, they smacked their bulky gauntlets on the stone eagle emblazoned over their breastplates before breaking out into sprints toward the Plague Marines. It seemed absurd that giants could move with such amazing celerity. Barras’ eyes were fixed on the goliath leading the charge. While his brothers mostly fired bolters, he carried a two-handed maul with two heads, each swathed in a powerful disruptor field. Letting out a growl that sounded distorted and harsh through his helmet speakers, the Marine swung his gigantic hammer and pounded an unsteady Plague Marine square in the chest. The sparking force field around the hammer’s head flashed on impact, amplifying the already inhuman strike to insane levels of strength. The Plague Marine flew backwards, landing and skidding around twenty yards away. Not dwelling on what he had just done, the maul-wielding Marine shouted to his comrades: “Let free the retribution of the Emperor, my brothers! Purge the unclean!” Unbelievably, the fallen Plague Marine rose again, a crater on his chest, dazed but not nearly incapacitated. It took a few more steps before being engulfed in a searing fireball. Many of the Marines wearing the scorpion heraldry carried flamers, and were using them liberally to submerge their Death Guard foes in infernos. The consuming blazes did little to dismay their shambling targets, and most of the Plague Marines continued firing their bolters and swinging their blades even as the flames scorched their armor and burned away their fetid flesh. Rather than seek their survival, they seemed to welcome death once it was credibly offered to them, as if it were some cherished gift. One of Barras’ soldiers let out a whoop of deliverance, sparking a chorus of additional supportive yells. With renewed dynamism, the Guardsmen resumed firing volleys, even if it was a weak supplement to the strength and firepower of the Adeptus Astartes. A small quantity of Plague Marines had died, but more were gradually closing in on their newly arrived attackers. Methodical salvos of bolter, flamer and plasma fire from the loyalist Marines thrashed the ranks of the Death Guard warband, but few were stopped, and eventually the two forces met. A helmetless heretic, his head resembling a moldering shriveled prune, grappled with the Space Marine commander, a humming chainsword gripped in one tremendous fist. His dark moss-colored armor seemed to leak with sludge. The Space Marine commander tried to shove him away, but his gauntlet slid clear due to the slimy gunk. The Death Guard warrior lunged, slashing his chainsword across the commander’s shoulder and blood sprayed through the split in the armor. The commander responded by slamming his elbow into his opponent’s belly and jumping backward, trouncing his maul onto neck and head. Like the rotted fruit it resembled, the Plague Marine’s head broke open, bone and brain obliterated in an eruption of filthy carnage. The decapitated body fell away as more enemies loomed. The scene became a festival of massacres, a carnival of blood and ferocity. A Space Marine fighting beside the commander died, an axe plunged into the space beneath his helm, and he fell to the sound of his own gurgling blood. Another Space Marine swept up his dead comrade’s bolt pistol and emptied the magazine into the killer. He was instantly set upon by a Plague Marine carrying a combat knife, which in Barras’ much smaller hands would easily have been a sword. The Chaos-corrupted Marine drove the serrated blade into the gap between breastplate and helmet before wrenching it out. He stabbed repeatedly, laughing with horrid glee, until the Space Marine collapsed. He was so caught up in his homicidal mania that he did not even notice the Astartes commander swinging his maul until it landed on his back, shattering his spine. The hammer rose and fell over and over, quickly turning the Plague Marine into a bludgeoned corpse. The battle was even, with the Space Marines winning slightly, but Barras wondered how long that would go on. The Death Guard Marines, though few in number, were only stoppable by extreme use of firepower or overwhelming brute force. In a conflict of pure attrition, the advantage lay with the nigh-invulnerable plague-bearing juggernauts. They were, Barras thought to himself, avatars of the inevitable entropy in the universe, the unpleasant but nevertheless harsh truth that all things, no matter how glorious or precious, would someday collapse and congeal, falling to ruin. Even the Imperium of Man, for all its splendors and righteousness, would at some point vanish from the universe, just as the brightest suns in the galaxy would fade into cold dark masses…. He was shaken from these heretical thoughts by the rumbling sound of Thunderhawks howling from behind him, their wing mounted guns blasting away. One by one, the Plague Marines exploded in a series of massive detonations. With almost stoic passivity, the more distant Death Guard survivors were torn apart by over-sized battle cannons spewing high-explosive rounds, others shredded by the shrapnel created by the rounds’ shell casings. The aircrafts banked around as they passed overhead, coming in low to the ground. When they landed, they unloaded streams of Space Marines, around twenty in each. From one, an enormous war machine strode clumsily down an exit ramp, roughly thirteen feet tall and just as wide. It moved in thumping, trifling steps, and its arms were weapons: the left was a steel arm capped by a wide chainsaw fist the size of an adult human, and the right was a long cannon with coils along its length that glowed dull blue. The battle ended soon thereafter. Barras’ men, exhausted and mortified by their brush with certain death, relaxed their discipline and slouched against the walls, some leaning on their firearms. Barras felt the urge to join them, but stopped when he spotted the Space Marine commander moving towards him. He snapped to attention, just as he had done years ago at the officers’ academy. He did his best to remain composed, but reflexively blanched at the noisy bluster of servos from the Marine’s armor joints. The Astartes had set aside his maul, and with gauntleted hands removed his helm. Underneath, his head was bald and leathery tan, marred with crisscrossed scars. His eyes were a light and watery blue, blank and unfocused. Barras smiled softly, hoping a relaxed and warm expression would obscure his nervousness before one of the God-Emperor’s chosen. Of course, he knew that was as futile as resisting an Inquisitor. “I’m Lieutenant Selywn Barras, my lord,” he began, “and we’re glad to see you…” “I am Brother-Captain Creon Mindarus,” the Astartes interrupted, “of the Red Scorpions’ Fourth Company. My orders are to purge this quadrant of the planet. Inquisitor Xanthus of the Ordo Malleus informed us that the traitors of the Fourteenth Legion were attempting to summon a powerful daemon, a harbinger of rot and ruin.” Barras nodded. “Well, it would appear your mission was accomplished.” “Not yet,” Creon said curtly. “Our orders were to cleanse this planet of Chaos taint, Lieutenant, and for us, that means all who were exposed to the corruption on Ephesos. Your unit has been deployed on the planet for several months, has it not?” Barras arched an eyebrow. “Y-Yes, my lord, to wipe out the walking dead…” “A task you did satisfactorily,” Creon replied with a cold monotone. “Yet, it was an error sending your regiment here. Despite its many commendations, you have one inherent flaw: you are mere humans.” He titled his head to one side briefly and clicked his tongue. “Well, most of you, at least. Your regiment has squads of abuhumans, yes?” “Y-You mean the Ogryns?” Barras stammered. “I have nothing to do with them!” The Astartes captain raised a hand to halt the protestations. “Your intentions are irrelevant. Even without the presence of abhumans, your regiment has been exposed to plagues and poxes your unmodified immune systems could not resist with guaranteed success. Rather than risk allowing you to leave Ephesos and potentially infect others, the chapter has decided to liquidate your regiment as part of our operations.” Barras went ashen as the blood drained from his face. His jaw dropped several centimeters and his eyes grew wide. “T-This is wrong! We did our duty!” “You did what was expected of you,” Creon responded with indifference. “Nevertheless, you cannot claim direct descent from the Emperor himself, as we can. Even few Astartes chapters truly do.” There was no pride on his lips; he spoke matter-of-factly. “You are flawed by your very nature, and thus, a liability. Your sacrifice serves the Imperium.” On instinct, Barras moved to run. Obviously the Astartes was faster. He reached out and clutched Barras’ neck in his gauntleted fingers. The Guardsman struggled in the grip, choking for air. Creon tightened his hold, crunching bone and cartilage with hardly a tensing of his muscles. Lifted off the ground, Barras’ feet kicked for solid contact, but soon went limp. The Astartes dropped him to the ground, where he fell with a thud. By this time, the worn and weakened soldiers of the unit had noticed the execution of their commander. As they processed what they were seeing, they also noticed that the charcoal-clad Space Marines had encircled them – and were now pointing their bolters, flamers, and plasma guns at them. Creon made a small motion with his hand and the Marines fired in unison, cutting down the surviving Guardsmen with ruthless efficiency. As lasers and flame reflected in his icy blue eyes, Creon whispered: “Purge the unclean.”

With Abaddon's new rules being so awesome, I couldn't stop myself from making a model for him. I've never really liked the current Abaddon model, just too bland of a pose for me, and looks old and clunky. On top of that, I field Night Lords, and figured I could make a Stand in character. Being such, he isn't actually "Abaddon", but will use his rules. That being said, Behold! First lets look at the daemon sword. Custom built from the hand and part of the spear handle of a Stormcast Eternal, a Grey Knight force weapon, a Tyranid warrior bone sword, and a few Necron odds and ends, I'm pretty pleased with the build http://i.imgur.com/2aRcDK8.jpg?1 Then on to the big man himself! Body made from the Primaris Captain with putty bat wing symbols. the claw arm is from the FW Lugft Huron with a few adjustments. The head is a FW mk iv helmet, adn the sword arm shoulder pad is from the Stormcast Eternals set. http://i.imgur.com/puq2kd4.jpg?1 I've been deliberating what I should do for his back. I was thinking I might choose from a variety of Chaosy backpacks, but I found these wings, and I'm kinda liking them. I was thinking they'd be made of warp energy, so they wouldn't actually be wings, just a scary Night Lord in your face type of thing. What do you guys think? http://i.imgur.com/XFp8Aj3.jpg?1 Your thoughts and comments are welcome and appreciated!

It seems my original Executioners thread is archived so I have to start a new one, which is ok since I'm pretty much redoing the army and actually finishing it. The left is the original, but Reaper discontinued the blue steel I was using. The middle is what I ended up working with, which looks more like metallic Crimson Fists than Executioners. The right is my newest attempt, which I think is much closer to the Imperial Armour book (it is more bluish in person). So my goal with this is to repaint just the armor of what I have already done (6.5 tactical squads, 2 assault squads, 1 devastator squad with extra heavy weapon options, 1 sternguard squad, 2 dreadnoughts, about 20 terminators and a full command squad) plus finish out the last 1.5 tactical squads, a damocles command rhino, and 8 rhino/razorbacks.

A friend and I have been wanting to start a Sons of Malice/other Malice following army for a little while now. With some paychecks and probably some Christmas money coming up, I'm thinking about finally starting it up. As for building the army, I have a few ideas about how to get started, depending on the look I want ot go for, and was hoping ot get some ideas and opinions from you all. Option number one: Dark Imperium box set. Pros:This would allow me to go for the True Scale look with the force, which is awesome and intimidating. This would give me lots to work with as far as different units and some standard marines and some mutated marines. Different than just the models, I would also be able to get my own rulebook, which would be handy. I could sell off the poxwalkers, drone, and anything too nurgly to convert. As well, I could snag a few intercessors for my regular primaris force Cons: There would be a lot of conversion and greenstuff work to do here. It would take a lot of time to make this tabletop ready. If I did go this route, I would be modifying and reworking the primaris armor to look like MK IV armor to have the older look to it and differentiate it from the Primaris. This would be really cool, but will take a lot of time and effort. Option number two: Betrayal at Calth box set. Pros: Tons of great models and weapon options to work with here. The MK IV armor and Cataphractii terminators look great all the time, so this would be a good place to start. There are enough marine models that I can make some standard marines as well as convert some for special units. As well, contemptor dreadnought, 'nuff said. Cons: First off, no true scale marines, which is a bit of a downer. My only other concern is that it might be a little too easy, but thats not too big a deal. Really the only problem is the not having true scale stuff. It seems like Calth would be a bit better choice, but the true scale size and the rulebook are my main points for still wanting to go with Dark Imperium. I'm still undecided, but what are your thoughts here? Thanks in advance.

http://www.skrenta.com/images/test-card-f.jpg PLEASE STAND BY EDITING IN PROGRESS

Good Morning Everyone! Here is my work in progress Pre-heresy Night Lords. They are the 4th Company, the Ruthless Lords. I've just very recently started in my Night Lords collection, and as I've been kinda short on funds for my Wargaming purposes lately, I've been making due with what I've been able to get my hands on. Without Further Adieu, I present to you the first of my 8th Legion! Cant have Night Lords without a few Raptors I made these guys like a week before Forgeworld released the official Night Raptors so I facepalmed a bit there, but alas, I dont think I did too bad. I did my best to chop off the chaos points and daemony stuff, and the converting challenge was quite fun. http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0511_zpsa981b029.jpg The Huntsman wields a homemade Nostraman Chainglaive made from 2 of the Warp Talon Wings and a chainsword blade. He also bears a few trophies of judgement, a helmet and hunk of a rib cage (courtesy of the kroot from my Tau army) http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0512_zps88f73905.jpghttp://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0513_zpsd387ebca.jpg Next up we have chainsword and plasma pistol guy. Pretty simple, nothing too special here. http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0517_zpsf87447c6.jpg On to the Lightning claw/plasma pistol guy! I actually made this guy with a power fist before I got Book II: Massacre, and so I chopped off the fingertips and threw on some claws really quick haha I also greenstuffed a little strip on his shoulder pad just to brake the flatness http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0514_zpsc8b3b8df.jpghttp://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0515_zpsa40c3fc7.jpghttp://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0516_zps5547c501.jpg Dual Claws guy. I did a little work to him just to make the pose more original. Simply cut the claw and put it on a bent arm http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0519_zps6e4c26c6.jpghttp://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0520_zps1ea691a0.jpg Power Sword Raptor. This guy I wanted to have a power sword, but I didnt want to use the one from the Raptors set and didnt have any fitting ones around, and laying about in my bits was the Forgeworld Fulgrim Blade of Laer (I custom made my own sword for the model, I'll show you guys later) and so I threw it on just for kicks. Its a bit big, but he's just the one guy whos like, "screw this chainsword crap, I'm stealing a Primarch sword!" haha despite its size, its merely a power sword, sorry pal! http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0521_zps4bfba3f7.jpghttp://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0522_zps0ac492f1.jpg Sorry if the picture quality isnt the best, as they are in progress of getting a basecoat. Although i am making the 4th Company, i'm using these Night Lords in the Drop Site Campaign, so I am also making a few of the notable Night Lords Heroes from Massacre, the first of which being Flaymaster Llansahai. I havent seen a single person make a model of him, so I thought I might as well be the first! on his right shoulder pad, I'm going to paint it to be a flayed Orc face http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0483_zps095e31ba.jpg http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0485_zps8adbd197.jpg http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0487_zps26ea324a.jpg http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e210/Terimus/Night%20Lords/DSC_0488_zps4c076a7d.jpg So there are the beginnings of my army! I'll have some more stuff coming up soon! Comments and Criticism are welcome and appreciated! -Terimus

I read that the old Flesh Tearers had an inverted scheme for their Death Company, with the shoulders and helmet being red, while the rest of the body was black. My chapter, the Blood Suns, uses Flesh Tearer similar patterns, but they are normally Black shoulders, head, backpack, and leg greaves, like such. http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8082/8399725341_a452956475_b.jpg The idea is the chapter uses the iconography of a sun/star. They see the Imperium without the Emperor and Sanguinus as being like a red giant star, that has expanded in size and gobbled up it's system, but is at the end of it's life and will soon lose it's heat and collapse on itself, therefore they are named the Blood Suns. Therefore, they see a Marine's life being like a sun that has gone supernova, or turned into a black hole - the Black Rage is a marine's desire to see the end of everything, and destroy it all. So to make it a look like a supernova and a black hole, I'm going for an inverted white and black scheme, but I want some feedback on how this looks, and if it would be striking compared to the above. I'll post some model pictures in the morning when people are awake and I can set some out. But what is everyone's thoughts on this? http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8229/8400814308_0bd0479300_b.jpg White color for the supernova imagery, and the black center for a Black supernova. The Red trim and Red chest eagle sort of keeping the basic Blood Sun third color, seen in the original. I love the alternative scheme for Death Company done in the book with the Angels Encarmine having white Sanguinary Guard as well, but I wondered if people think this would work on an actual model. Last consideration: I have a lot of those 3rd edition death company bodies that I'll be using for them models, and I have (with considerable effort) magnetized the backpacks to make sure they're flexible, so this is why I want to make sure I get the colors right. But if not, they'll strip easily being pewter/lead!

Find any remnants of the new betrayers that remain in the system. Use whatever and whoever you need. Take them or destroy them as you must. Do it now, my son.” -Rogal Dorn, upon learning of the Massacre at Isstvan V +++ Though Yartsev wore armor that bore markings of the 317th Grand Battalion of Iron Warriors, he only ever referred to his battalion as "The Gravel Eaters." They bore the name as both compliment and insult in equal measure. It had come from a particularly grueling campaign on some forgotten world at the edge of the Ghoul Stars, where they had dug their emplacements in the rough earth so fast that their allies remarked that they must have consumed the gravel beneath them rather than shoveling it. Yartsev had responded with a remark about excreting bricks, which earned him the favor of everyone in the 317th who heard it. But the siege ended and so did whatever good humor the Gravel Eaters possessed about their lot in the universe. They certainly hadn’t expected reassignment to the Sol Sector. Fortifying what few cities existed beneath Pluto's artificial atmosphere seemed like a thankless task and the Gravel Eaters hadn’t exactly relished rearguard duty. He remembered brawl after brawl between squads (the luster of Olympian discipline on full display). Better fighting lay well beyond the bounds of the Sol Sector. Proximity to the throne world meant nothing, either. What had the Emperor ever cared for them? When they received new orders from Perturabo himself though, then things had gotten interesting. Suddenly the Gravel Eaters became the vanguard, tasked with establishing a foothold in the domain of the Emperor Himself. Treachery had proved kind to them. No more nagging from useless Engiseers who didn’t understand the importance of a sound bunker versus yet another edifice in praise of the Machine God. Even better, they had killed the few Imperial Fists who Rogal Dorn had insisted oversee their work on Pluto. The arrogance of him. The swill-swallowing coward. They had dug themselves in for months, arrayed themselves for war in a way that might even make their temperamental primarch proud, and drilled until their post-human bodies sang in exhaustion. So the fact that Sigismund had broken their lines within the first minutes of engagement came as something of a surprise. They had assurances from Perturabo this would not happen. Their primarch said that any retribution coming for them would stay soundly on Terra after he crushed the Imperial Fists force bound for the Isstvan system. All that had fallen to shambles. Sigismund had come and brought the wrath of his father with him. Worse, he had brought a group of Imperial Fists that seemed as zealous as himself. Not just the idiots who stood in front of their damnable Temple of Oaths (Temple of Arse, more like), but every single legionnaire seemed a cut apart from the famous stoniness of the Imperial Fists. They roared their hate at the Iron Warriors for the oaths they had broken to the Emperor and then they bellowed their own dedication to the Iron Warriors’ eradication. Before Yartsev could even reload his bolter for the first time in the fight, he took a kick to the head that sent his empty weapon flying and his form sprawling against the opposite side of the tench he had occupied. He felt a massive blade crash his ribcage and pin him to the wall of the trench. The Black Sword gleamed with light from nearby fires, its ebony surface as dark as the sky above. “You will tell me where your Warsmith is, Iron Warrior.” Yartsev tried to spit at the First Captain of the Imperial Fists, but the saliva didn’t leave his MK II helm. He simply shook his head in protest, the pain of his impalement driving the words from his mouth. Sigismund tore his sword free and with a single swift stroke, split the Iron Warrior’s helm vertically. “Damn traitors. Can’t even follow the orders of a superior officer now.” +++ And thus it begins. With the all-but-confirmed plastic Heresy set coming at us in the fall, I took the plunge. More accurately I put my foot in the water to gage the the temperature, but yeah. I'm in there. So the idea for the force is to represent Sigismund and his brethren in the Age of Darkness, before the siege of Terra. These Fists are striking out across the Sol Sector on Dorn's orders and eliminating the remaining traitor legionnaires, like the Iron Warriors on Pluto (deployment I made up, happily accepting feedback on my Iron Warriors portrayal). I have some strong ideas about where Sigismund's character is at this point and how he starts thinking about the legions during this time. He isn't the first High Marshal yet. He isn't even the Emperor's Champion yet. But and that changes how he thinks. Anyway, expect some construction in the future and maybe some paint in late August/early September (when I'm back in school).