Search the Community

THE SIN EATERS Starting things off with my current (and Leviathan-supported) army project, a Blood Angels successor with a focus on pre-Sanguinius Legion practices. A full in-universe description of the chapter may follow, but for now the basics: An old BA successor from back when they still made those, that has chosen to combat the Red Thirst by delving into the auto-cannibalistic practices of the legion back before the reunification with their Primarch. They make a habit of eating their own dead, and where the Legion once used the eaten memories to quickly train-up new recruits, or let new officers more easily take the position of their fallen predecessors the Sin Eaters have spent the last ~10,000 years getting weird with it. 'Gestalt consciousnesses made of generations of cannibalised space marines living on from body to body' weird with it. Did this actually control the Red Thirst? Not really! We'll cover the Black Rage when I start working on the Death Company. For the models themselves, my plan here is to convert or kitbash every model in the army, at least a little. I've chosen a pretty simple, basic-bitch colour scheme, and will be focusing on my freehanding when possible, something I avoided with my last army. Now! On to the models: My first squad, and the only one I was able to complete before an upcoming move that has seen all my Warhammer boxed up and in transit, is a 5-man Assault Intercessor squad, largely as a test. Better lighting conditions will, hopefully, be available at the new place. The models are a mix of easy-build assault intercessors and normal intercessors, with heads from all over my bits-box, plus a few printed bits, mostly helmets and the odd shoulder. I'm aiming for a mix of Firstborn and Primaris marines, or at least armour. Given their taste for resurrection via devouring it's not uncommon for Sin Eaters to 'Cross the Rubicon' by being killed in combat, and being eaten by one of those factory-fresh, hypno-indoctrinated Primaris marines. I've been learning how to paint more diverse skintones for my GSC army, and will be continuing that here for those few models going helmetless. Not really evident here on the Sergeant, but a reminder to myself. Between that and the freehanding I'm hoping to come out of this with some new skills. Anyway, that's the start! Let me know what you think, and I'll post the only other finished model when I get some free time.

Old time Forum Stalker from back in the Early days under Many different usernames over the last 19 years. Purchased a 3D printer almost 3 years ago and have done a few sci fi projects here and there. With a massive snowstorm crashing through Knoxville recently I took it upon myself to create a project that younger me only dreamed of owning. Quick disclosure this is an almost 90% 3d printed project using files found and purchased online, I will not be sharing files, artists or locations due to legal reasons, those artists have been personally thanked and credited on their own respective pages. So allow me to set the Scene, The Year is 2010, 5th edition is steamrolling along and my younger self is struggling to get a full army together with lack of any serious funding, time etc. fast forward to today, feeling like I've completely sold myself short on the capabilities of this purchase have set about creating a 5th edition space marine army that a younger me would have loved to own, It'll never see the table, It'll never be in any FLGS, it'll be a lovely addition to the shelf I just cleared to store it, So after tracking down a 5th Edition Space marine Codex I went about creating a 2500pt army. The Drake Legion, Pro Emperor Anti Imperium think of them as 41st Millennium Protestant's, Believing wholly in the God Emperor of mankind but detesting the existence of the Corrupt imperium, Liberating worlds from Chaos, Xenos and Imperium control in massive Crusades across the Galaxy ( this is obviously Pre Guilliman awaking since its based in the 2010 history so far) Test Marine 1: Test Marine 2: Test Pair Completed: With them 2 completed I was happy with color choices etc and set about jumping in the deep end and creating the Chapter Master:

So I have been away from the block for some time, and I have now begun a new project. I am still working on idears for the Void Rangers, but for now I am working this project, which is a Salamander Ultima founding, but following their own degree. This degree share basic similarities with the Iron Hands, with the theme around night, ice and cannibalism. I hope you will enjoy and give me some constructive feedback. ++++++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER NAME: .............. ...Novo Wardens FOUNDING: ............................Ultima CHAPTER WORLD: ...............Neculmar II FORTRESS MONASTERY: .... Winterfall GENE-SEED: …………...........Salamanders KNOWN DESCENDANTS: .....NONE Allegiance: Imperium of Man Chapter Master: Attion Bul'lek Current Size Estimate: >1000 Specialty: counter-insurgency and Heavy Assault Colours: Gold, dark blue, and black Symbol: ??? Battle Cry: "To Ice and death" The Chapter was among those Salamander Successor Chapters that were created by Archmagos Dominus Cawl during the Ultima Founding. Cawl did so without informing the Salamanders and when they learned of this, they began making contact with their Successors Chapters. However, the Chaplain the Salamanders sent out to teach the Novo Wardens of the Promethean Cult, Shen'ven, was killed in a challenge issued by the Novo Warden Attion Bul'lek for leadership of the Novo Warden's cult. The Wardens now follow their own teaching, crafting their own understanding of hardness as warriors, willpower and devotion to humanity as taught to them by their first Chapter Master Bul'lek "The king of Night and Ice", and their Lord Chaplain Tul'kan "The White Walker". The Novo Wardens was assignet to garrison the ice worlds in the Neculmar system, ensuring the rebellious population are kept in line and their mines and forges on fire; ensuring the much needed production of war material needed for the Wardens is never stopped. Chapter Master Bul'lek has sworn to keep the worlds in the Imperial fold and keep pushing the Indomitus Crusade ever forward. The Salamanders has launch complains to Lord Commander Guilliman over the Wardens' for development and have spurn all contact with them; degreing them to not be true sons of Vulkan. This semse not to bother the Novo Wardens, who now rule the Neculmar system with an iron fist…

So here's some of the lore I have cooked for my homebrew chapter The Silver Consuls are an ultramarines successor chapter created during the 26th founding. While being a relatively young chapter they have become renown as master navigators and masters of void warfare and ariel assault. As such they are often seen advising imperial navy battle groups and protecting Imperial trade routes and worlds from pirates. They're homeworld Vigiltus Prime is a death world covered in steep mountain ranges and vast oceans forcing its people to live in airborne cities and make use of various flyers. After theyre chapter and homeworld were ravaged by the red corsairs. They have taken to the stars to hunt down the infamous raiders of the maelstrom.They strike like a rightous sword plunging into the heart of the foe utilising jump troops supported by fast attack units and flyers that the ferocity of the white scars, while still bearing the nobility as scions of Gulliman Tell me what you think

Index Astartes: Matadors Matadors Armorial Origins T he illustrious Matadors, a venerable Chapter of the esteemed Adeptus Astartes, trace their distinguished lineage back to the celestial Sanguinius through the hallowed line of Angels Excelsis. As one of the intricacies of the labyrinthine bureaucracy of the Administratum reveals, their Founding was intertwined with the momentous 24th Founding, a united effort by the High Lords of Terra to fortify the Imperium's war engine and confront the myriad threats that beset humanity. Deep within the annals of their storied history, the Matadors find their origins entwined with the majestic world of Epona Prime, a crucible where strength and resilience are forged. Nestled amidst the far-flung reaches of the Segmentum Obscurus, Epona Prime boasts sprawling deserts, jagged mountain ranges, and a capricious climate. However, the planet's haughty nobility has played the most pivotal role in shaping the character of the Matadors, fostering an air of superiority, an unwavering determination to triumph over adversity, and a taste for extravagant displays of opulence. Adorned with an emblem that encapsulates the essence of their identity, the Matadors proudly brandish the symbol of a regal bull's head, its noble brow graced by a solitary blood droplet. This emblem epitomises their unyielding commitment to honour, sacrifice, and the valiant pursuit of duty. It stands as a testament to their deep connection to Sanguinius, the indomitable Blood Angels, and the sacred rituals of blood consumption that bind them to the angelic qualities bestowed by their gene-seed. From the very moment of their inception, the Matadors heeded the direct command of the illustrious High Lords of Terra, entrusted with the solemn duty of upholding the sacred principles of the Imperium and safeguarding its vast interests. Their divine purpose beckoned them to bolster the Imperium's mighty war machine, fortifying its strength and harnessing their indomitable resolve to confront the countless threats that lurk within the abyss of the void. True to their exalted lineage, the Matadors have woven a proud legacy through unwavering dedication and the refinement of their distinctive combat doctrine. Mastery of mounted warfare and the seamless fusion of artistry with battle has become the indelible hallmarks of their unique approach. They stand as stalwart guardians, armed with an unyielding resolve to wield their exceptional skills and unwavering loyalty against any audacious foe that dares to threaten mankind. As they embark upon their celestial odyssey, venturing into the uncharted depths of the star-strewn cosmos, the Matadors bear within them the resounding echoes of their Primarch and the noble traditions inherited from the hallowed Blood Angels. They serve as an unwavering testament to the unassailable resilience, valour, and unwavering devotion of the illustrious 24th Founding, forever striving to honour their heritage and erect an impregnable shield against the encroaching darkness that hungers to consume the Imperium. Homeworld Segmentum Obscurus E pona Prime, a domain befitting the elite and noble Matadors, scions of the illustrious Blood Angels, their origins bathed in the searing flames of the 24th Founding. In this era, hailed as the resplendent Golden Age by its denizens, the Matadors spread their golden wings, bestowing an unparalleled might and an unassailable dominion upon their sacred homeworld. Epona Prime, a bastion of unwavering devotion to the Imperium, pulses with a fervent identity intricately woven from the threads of faith and unyielding loyalty. Through tireless crusades, safeguarding humanity against all threats, the Matadors have amassed a profusion of opulent treasures, casting a generous shower of abundance and prosperity upon the lands of Epona Prime. Nestled within the radiant embrace of this Golden Age, Epona Prime has become a witness to a symphony of artistic and literary wonders that rival the opulence of ancient celestial palaces. Resonating echoes of architectural grandeur reverberate throughout the abodes of the haughty elite, for their magnificent structures evoke a celestial splendour. Inspired by the graceful harmonies of eras long past, these edifices exude a majestic allure. Their intricate façades and regal columns embody timeless elegance as if whispering secrets of celestial heritage and beckoning the gaze of those with refined taste. Within their hallowed halls, opulent chandeliers cast their luminous glow upon expansive interiors adorned with exquisite artwork and masterful craftsmanship, offering a tantalising glimpse into a realm where creativity and refined indulgence intertwine seamlessly. These structures, embodiments of austere grandeur, meticulously carved reliefs, and symmetrical motifs, pay homage to a celestial heritage that resonates with ethereal beauty and transcendent artistry. They stand as everlasting testaments to the visionary prowess of celestial architects, infusing these ethereal abodes on Epona Prime with an aura of supreme majesty that stirs the depths of one's soul and uplifts the spirit with their ineffable charm. The legacy of the Matadors reverberates through the veins of Epona Prime, etching its indomitable mark upon the tapestry of history and the fabric of the planet's culture. Their influence, akin to a celestial inferno burning within every heart, ignites profound pride and unwavering adoration within the souls of its fortunate inhabitants. Tauromachy, an age-old tradition woven into Epona Prime's existence, is a venerated and exhilarating spectacle. Here, artistry takes form as formalised rites and rituals elevate the dance of death to an unparalleled pinnacle of advanced warfare. With unwavering precision and iron discipline, the noble scions of Epona Prime command the arena, each movement a testament to their unmatched prowess. Before each majestic bullfight, the nobles of Epona Prime, draped in garments adorned with the rarest of jewels and shimmering fabrics, embark on extravagant processions through the illustrious streets of the planet's grand cities. Accompanied by a retinue of loyal attendants and heralds, their progress is heralded by triumphant fanfares, the resounding blast of brass instruments filling the air with a royal proclamation. As the nobles walk through the throngs of adoring admirers, the streets burst into a symphony of opulence. Petals of the most fragrant flowers, symbols of the nobles' ascent to celestial heights, are strewn along their path. Billowing clouds of exotic incense waft through the air, carrying with them the heady aroma of luxury and indulgence. The crowd's fervent cheers and thunderous applause reverberated through the city, a tangible testament to the nobles' elevated status and deep connection to the grand heritage of their noble bloodlines. These noble processions are meticulously planned, featuring intricate choreography and synchronised movements. The retinue, dressed in garments of unparalleled elegance, proudly carries elaborate banners and symbols representing their noble families' ancient lineage and heraldry. Behind them, a troupe of skilled performers executes graceful dances and awe-inspiring acrobatic feats, weaving an enchanting tapestry of artistry and elegance that enthrals the onlookers. The noble procession is a sight to behold, an extravagant display of power, wealth, and high social standing. It is a vivid reminder of the nobles' grandeur, leaving an indelible impression on the common masses and reinforcing the distinct separation between the privileged nobility and the lower echelons of society. Within the arena, the noble scions of Epona Prime command the stage, their opulence and valour radiating resplendently. They engage in a symphony of lance and horn astride majestic steeds, displaying unparalleled horsemanship and the ability to tame ferocious bulls with elegant grace and finesse. Yet, the tauromachy on Epona Prime transcends the boundaries of mere spectacle, resonating with profound symbolism. It encapsulates the eternal struggle between light and shadow, the eternal struggle to fend off the Black Rage, and personifies the Imperium's inevitable triumph over the sinister forces of darkness. Guided by the illuminating beacon of Matador serfs, these bullfights transform into sacred rites. Processions and blessings herald the unwavering faith and martial prowess of the noble Matadors, their every move an ode to the indomitable spirit of the Imperium. As the celestial gates of Epona Prime swing wide, the Matadors unleash an annual festival of grandeur that surpasses mortal imagination. It is a spectacle of grand proportions, where the realm resonates with the thunderous roars of creatures summoned from the farthest reaches of the galaxy. Within colossal arenas adorned with the symbols of their noble lineage, the Matadors' prowess is on full display, a symphony of martial artistry and bloodshed that leaves none untouched by its breathtaking grandeur. At the heart of this awe-inspiring festival, a sacred ritual unfolds that epitomises the Matadors' unyielding connection to their ancestral heritage. As the battles rage and the echoes of combat resound, the noble elite emerges triumphant, their ornate armour adorned with the triumphant remnants of their adversaries. In a ritualistic crescendo, the Matadors bathe in the lifeblood of the vanquished creatures, anointing themselves with the essence of their fallen foes. The crimson liquid cascades over their battle-worn forms, glistening like rubies in the dying light. With each drop that caresses their skin, the Matadors absorb the primal essence of these fearsome creatures, forging an even deeper bond with the ferocity and power that courses through their veins. It is a testament to their indomitable spirit and a ritual of transformation as they become one with the creatures that dared challenge their might. As the festival climaxes, the Matadors emerge from the arenas, their bodies drenched in the scarlet testament of their victories. They stand as living monuments to the eternal legacy of the Blood Angels, their noble spirits ablaze with an unwavering devotion to the Imperium. Their saga is etched upon the stars, their every deed forever interwoven into the timeless tapestry of their Chapter's revered heritage. With resolute hearts and splendorous pageantry, the Matadors of Epona Prime continue to manifest their sacred duty as stalwart defenders of the Imperium. In the ebb and flow of battle, their spirits burn brightly, an everlasting flame that illuminates the darkness and proclaims their unwavering allegiance to the Emperor's cause. As the festival concludes, the echoes of their triumphs reverberate across the cosmos, reminding all who witness their resplendent display that the Matadors are the true exemplars of the Blood Angels' indelible legacy. Fortress Monastery A ureum Caeli, the Fortress Monastery of the Matadors, is a testament to their unwavering devotion and indomitable resolve. This colossal edifice radiates a sense of extravagance, symbolising their unyielding might and divine calling. Rising proudly from the ground, its towering spires seem to challenge the gods themselves, commanding respect and awe from mortal onlookers. Approaching the Fortress Monastery, one is immediately struck by its ostentatious beauty. Every aspect of its design exudes grandeur and opulence, meticulously crafted to inspire admiration and intimidation. Intricate carvings and embellishments adorn its towering walls, weaving a tapestry of arrogance and excess. The flamboyant architecture blends form and function, humbling mortal onlookers in its presence. Within the sacred chambers of the Fortress Monastery, the Matadors engage in decadent rituals and preparations. The halls resound with the echoes of martial training as blades clash and hooves thunderously strike marble floors. These ostentatious displays of skill and strength further reinforce the Chapter's belief in their superiority and divine mandate. The Fortress Monastery serves as a place of training and preparation and a shrine to the Matadors' inflated egos and unwavering devotion. Its towering spires reach towards the heavens, boldly proclaiming their perceived dominance over the mortal realm. Within its hallowed halls, an almost tangible arrogance permeates the air, as if the stones revel in the Chapter's self-proclaimed greatness. It embodies excessive allure, from opulent chambers to lavish training grounds. Here, martial prowess and narcissism converge, overshadowing the pursuit of excellence with pomp and circumstance. The Chapter's traditions and rituals, rooted in the past, are exaggerated to a theatrical degree, each action performed as if on a stage, designed to elicit admiration and reverence. As the Matadors stride through the corridors of their Fortress Monastery, every movement drips with self-importance. The echoes of their footsteps resound with an inflated sense of purpose, projecting an image of invincibility. They are the masters of their domain, epitomising arrogance and extravagance, forever etching their presence into the cosmic tapestry. In the end, the Fortress Monastery of the Matadors stands not only as a symbol of their unwavering devotion but also as a testament to their excessive pride and self-indulgence. It serves as a monument to their inflated egos and the delusion of their greatness. Yet, within its gilded halls and pretentious displays, the Chapter finds solace, believing themselves to be the epitome of perfection, forever glorifying their existence. Within these walls, the Matadors honour their fallen and celebrate heroic deeds. Grandiose ceremonies and feasts of remembrance are held to pay homage to those who sacrificed their lives in service to the Emperor and humanity. Amidst the revelry, profound respect for the fallen permeates as the Matadors solemnly pledge to continue their legacy. The celebration of heroic deeds serves a deeper purpose for the Matadors. It reinforces their unity, fostering a collective spirit that binds them together in the face of adversity. Their comrades' triumphs and sacrifices, immortalised in art and legend, ignite the flames of valour and determination within the battle brothers. The Matadors find strength and inspiration through these ceremonies and rituals, reaffirming their commitment to defend the Imperium and uphold their cherished virtues. In the eyes of the Matadors, celebrating heroic deeds is not a mere indulgence in grandeur but a sacred duty. It is a testament to their unwavering dedication to the Emperor, a constant reminder of the immense sacrifices made in the name of humanity. In the resounding echoes of heroic tales and the flickering candlelight that illuminates the relics of the fallen, the Matadors find solace, purpose, and the unyielding resolve to face any challenge that dares to threaten the Imperium they fiercely protect. Symphonia Lustitiae et Executionis The grand hall of the Matador Chapter's fortress-monastery surged with anticipation and reverence as I, Seraphina Valerius, Planetary Governor of Epona Prime, took my seat in the luxurious box with my angelic cherubim, symbols of purity, landing beside me. The rest of my entourage found their places behind me. The luminaries of our planet had assembled, their eyes shimmering with excitement, but when the performance began, all gazes were fixed on one thing. As the lights dimmed, a soft, golden radiance bathed the hall, casting an otherworldly glow upon the grand stage. The rhythmic echoes of hooves reverberated through the air, growing in intensity, and electric energy crackled in the atmosphere. Anticipation hung heavy as the curtains unfurled, unveiling a scene of breathtaking splendour that seized my breath. A single beam of light pierced the darkness, illuminating a lone Equesanguis astride a magnificent silken black steed in its ethereal brilliance. Clad in gleaming armour, the rider exuded an aura of authority and grace while the horse's coat shimmered like molten gold beneath the mesmerising illumination. The sheer beauty of the sight stirred a deep fire within me, invoking admiration and awe. To the enchanting strains of an orchestral composition, the Equesanguis and its rider embarked on a dance that transcended artistry and skill. Their movements flowed in perfect harmony, an ethereal symphony of justice and execution. Each leap and twirl showcased a masterstroke of elegance and power, a testament to the unbreakable bond between the warrior and their steed. The stage transformed into a vibrant tableau, bathed in shifting hues that evoked ethereal landscapes and brought to life the epic battles fought by the Matadors against the encroaching darkness. The Equesanguis symbolised unwavering resolve, charging through imaginary foes with resolute determination and a blaze of fiery justice. Accompanying the performance, a resonant narration echoed throughout the hall, recounting the heroic deeds, triumphant victories, selfless sacrifices, and unwavering loyalty of the Matadors to the Emperor. Each word woven into the tapestry of the performance struck a resounding chord in our hearts, kindling flames of inspiration and admiration, reaffirming our unyielding devotion to the cause of righteousness. The audience sat captivated, their eyes transfixed upon the spectacle unfolding before them. Equine prowess intertwined with dramatic artistry, transporting us to a realm where justice and execution merged into an indistinguishable whole. It was a symphony that enraptured the senses, a celebration of the indomitable spirit that resided within the Matadors and a testament to the noble heritage of Epona Prime. As the performance soared to its crescendo, a captive from a recent campaign rose from through the bowels of Aureum Caeli with their hands and mouths bound through an opening on the stage floor. A collective gasp of awe reverberated through the chamber, with the Equesanguis and their steed executing a breathtaking leap, defying gravity and suspending mid-air. A single clean swipe of their blade severing the head from the neck was followed by thunderous applause that shook the very foundations of the fortress-monastery. Once again, the Matadors showcased their mastery of equine elegance and the captivating power of their art, leaving us all breathless and in a state of pure exhilaration. With the final bow and the fading echoes of the audience's ovation, the performance concluded, but its impact remained etched deeply within the hearts and minds of all who had the privilege to bear witness. The symphony entertained us and deepened our understanding and appreciation for the Matadors' unique fusion of equine prowess and artistic expression in pursuing justice and execution. As the attendees dispersed, their spirits were uplifted by the magnificence they had just witnessed; they carried with them a renewed sense of pride in the Matadors and a profound connection to the ancestral spirit of Epona Prime. Once again, the symphony had forged an unbreakable bond between the Chapter and its loyal supporters, serving as an eternal testament to the harmonious union of equine influence and the captivating world of justice and execution. Brother Chapter Artifacts and Relics B Recruitment T Brother Chapter Cult and Belief System T he illustrious Matadors, descendants of the esteemed tauromachy homeworld and bearers of the revered Blood Angels gene seed, exalt themselves with an air of superiority, boasting a Chapter Cult and Belief System that surpasses all others. Rooted in their rich heritage and the inherent superiority of their genetic lineage, the Matadors' path is paved with arrogance and grandeur. At the heart of their Chapter lies the Code of Valor, an elevated principle that transcends mere honour and chivalry. Derived from the noble ideals of ancient tauromachy nobility, this code demands unwavering courage, unparalleled skill, and unmatched grace, befitting their exalted lineage. Through every action, the Matadors strive to embody these virtues, positioning themselves as paragons of nobility on and off the battlefield, revelling in their superiority. The Matadors embrace the consumption of blood, elevating it to the status of a sacrament—a direct link to the divine essence of their Primarch and the angelic qualities inherent in their gene seed. Through ritualistic blood rites, they partake in the life essence of their fallen steeds, believing that by imbibing their essence, they absorb their strength and honour their sacrifices in battle. This practice, seen as a sacred communion, forges a profound bond with their Primarch, further amplifying their martial prowess and intensifying their sense of superiority—their thirst for power knows no bounds. To the Matadors, they are not mere warriors but harmonious instruments of the Emperor's celestial will, playing a crucial role in the grand symphony of war. They perceive their actions on the battlefield as integral to upholding order and equilibrium within the Imperium. With the precision and finesse of master musicians, they protect the innocent and purge heresy, executing their duties with exquisite elegance that resonates with their allies while instilling paralysing fear in the hearts of their enemies—their orchestration of destruction is a symphony of superiority. The Matadors hold Sanguinius, the divine Primarch of the Blood Angels, in unparalleled reverence. They view their Blood Angels gene seed as a vessel carrying a fragment of his noble essence within them, setting them apart from lesser beings. Inspired by his unwavering nobility, boundless compassion, and indomitable strength, the Matadors envision themselves as his chosen instruments in the eternal struggle against the corrupting forces of Chaos. They strive to emulate his virtues, drawing strength from his legacy and presenting themselves as living embodiments of his divine will—their encounter with the divine confirms their inherent superiority. To the Matadors, combat is not a brutish clash of arms but a graceful and deadly dance, an opulent manifestation of the intricate movements in the bullfight. They relentlessly pursue heightened awareness and fluidity on the battlefield, merging their unmatched agility, unerring precision, and lethal strikes into an awe-inspiring display of martial prowess. By executing their manoeuvres with flawless finesse, they effortlessly overpower their adversaries, leaving them spellbound by the lethal elegance of their actions. This mesmerising spectacle embodies the cultural heritage of their Chapter and serves as a psychological weapon, sowing seeds of doubt and trepidation in the hearts of those foolish enough to oppose them—their mastery of the Dance of Death proclaims their superiority. Death Company T he tragic symbolism of the bull destined for a glorious demise is reflected in the Matadors' perilous journey to tame the raging beast within—the Black Rage, the tempestuous storm within their gene seed. Those tormented by their dance with the Black Rage are consigned to the revered ranks of the Death Company. Unleashed upon the enemies of mankind, these tormented warriors become an unstoppable force of destruction, embodying the tragic reminder of the Matadors' fragile mortality. The fallen brethren are commemorated with twisted honour, their memories interwoven into sacred rituals and grand ceremonies, forever etched in the annals of their self-aggrandising legacy. Amidst their relentless pursuit of grandiosity, these tormented warriors, clad in their accursed black armour, on occasion are known to charge into battle atop augmented war-trained bulls—majestic creatures honoured in the Matadors' annual festival on Epona Prime. This grotesque spectacle intertwines the fate of the bull with the impending doom of the Death Company's warriors, contrasting the elegance and finesse of the Matadors with the brute force of their brethren. Unlike the Matadors' graceful choreography, the Death Company represents the antithesis—a blunt instrument, a sledgehammer to the Matadors' rapier. Their charge is an emotional onslaught of raw power and unbridled violence. The ground trembles beneath their monstrous mounts as they thunder towards the enemy, armoured hooves shattering the earth. Atop their war-trained bulls, the Death Company unleashes a relentless barrage of frenzied attacks, their bull-headed companions tearing through the enemy ranks with ferocity. Amidst the Chaos and brutality, there is a tragic beauty to their savagery. The Death Company embodies the ultimate sacrifice by offering their sanity, souls, and lives upon the altar of war. Their augmented bulls, once revered, become instruments of cataclysmic fury, leaving an indelible mark on history. Colliding with the enemy lines, the Death Company atop their war-trained bulls embody the Matadors' vainglorious spirit taken to the extreme. They shatter the enemy's resolve with unyielding strength, their crimson-streaked black armour serving as a harbinger of doom. Though lacking finesse, their actions carry a haunting allure—a symphony of violence and despair echoing throughout the battle. In the wake of their devastation, the Death Company leaves a trail of broken bodies and shattered hope. While lacking the grace and elegance of what they once were, their ferocity and unyielding resolve are a testament to the Matadors' legacy. They are the living embodiment of the Black Rage, unleashed upon a chaotic world, their augmented bulls an extension of their ravaged souls. As the Death Company charges upon their savage steeds, their destiny entwined with the fates of the bulls they ride, they etch a twisted chapter in the Matadors' saga. Their gruesome display of power and sacrifice epitomises the Matadors' unbreakable resolve—a grim reminder of the price paid in pursuing grandeur. Though lacking refinement, they leave an undeniable legacy—an indomitable force stained with blood and tragedy. Sanguinary Guard I n their resplendent pursuit of grandiosity, the Matadors Sanguinary Guard rise above their brethren, adorned in pristine alabaster white armour that gleams with an ethereal radiance. Like the angels of old, they seek to forge a closer connection with their Primarch, Sanguinius, embodying their revered forebearer's celestial grace and purity. A symbol of their exalted status, the Sanguinary Guard forsake the mundane mounts of their brethren and instead ascend to the heavens astride augmented war-trained Pegasus. These majestic creatures, raised and nurtured within the highest spires of the Matadors' Fortress Monastery, bear witness to the aspirations of their riders. Through their majestic wings, the Sanguinary Guard are elevated to a higher plane, transfigured into angelic warriors, unstoppable in their pursuit of victory. Once humble Equesanguis, the Sanguinary Guard have proven their mettle upon the battlefield, earning their rightful place among the Chapter's celestial champions. Their unwavering dedication and relentless pursuit of excellence have elevated them to this elite brotherhood. Their transition to the Sanguinary Guard represents a metamorphosis that transcends mortals as they ascend to the pinnacle of the Matadors' vainglorious legacy. Embracing their newfound aerial mobility, the Sanguinary Guard have honed an even more refined fighting style, intertwining their prowess in melee combat with the fluid grace of their Pegasus companions. Their movements upon the battlefield are a breathtaking display of synchronised finesse, a deadly ballet of death that leaves their enemies in awe and terror. With their Lances Encarmine held high, they pierce the heavens and strike down their foes with unyielding precision. Yet it is not only their mastery of the blade that sets the Sanguinary Guard apart; it is the bond of brotherhood shared between warrior and mount. United in purpose, trust, and camaraderie, they act as extensions of one another's will, a symphony of power and grace that resonates across the battlefield. The Sanguinary Guard and their Pegasus companions move as one, their actions harmonised, their fates intertwined. The Sanguinary Guard find strength through this sacred connection, drawing upon their winged steeds' unwavering loyalty and supernatural prowess. The Pegasus imbued with the spirit of Epona Prime and the blessings of their Primarch serve as beacons of inspiration and guardians of the Matadors' legacy. Their presence ignites the hearts of their riders, amplifying their resolve and lending them the divine fury of the heavens. In their glorious charge, the Matadors Sanguinary Guard leave an indelible mark upon the annals of history. They are the epitome of divine wrath, embodying the pretentious displays of extravagance that define their noble Chapter. With each stride of their Pegasus mounts, they proclaim their allegiance to the heavens, their Lance Encarmine striking true, and their enemies falling before their celestial might. Thus, the Matadors Sanguinary Guard, resplendent in their alabaster white armour and astride their augmented war-trained Pegasus, become a testament to the grandeur of the Blood Angels and their Primarch. They soar above the mortal realm, exemplifying the eternal pursuit of perfection and the unyielding devotion to the glorious Imperium. They etch their name upon the stars in their celestial splendour, forever ascending as beacons of angelic might, an unbreakable brotherhood. Brother Adversaries T Gene-seed T he gene seed of the Matadors, derived directly from the noble lineage of the Blood Angels, remains unchanged and untouched by any additional mutations or alterations. However, it displays a distinctive characteristic that sets it apart from other Blood Angel successor chapters – a heightened connection to the more primal aspects of their gene seed. The Matadors' gene seed carries the same genetic legacy as their esteemed forebears, the Blood Angels. It is suffused with the essence of the vampiric Primarch Sanguinius, embodying their gene line's nobility, grace, and ferocity. Like their progenitors, the Matadors possess enhanced senses, heightened reflexes, and a remarkable affinity for close combat. Yet, a subtle divergence within the Matadors' gene-seed amplifies the primal instincts ingrained within them. This heightened connection to their animalistic nature manifests in their combat prowess, lending them an even more savage and relentless edge on the battlefield. The Matadors tap into their inner beast, unleashing a raw and untamed ferocity that sets them apart from other Blood Angel chapters. In battle, the Matadors' gene-seed instils an intensified thirst for blood and an insatiable hunger for victory. Their senses become keener, allowing them to detect the subtlest movements and anticipate their foes' actions with uncanny precision. Their reflexes sharpen to a razor's edge, enabling lightning-fast strikes and devastating counterattacks. It is as if the primal essence of the gene-seed surges through their veins, fueling their every action and lending an almost feral intensity to their combat style. However, This heightened connection to their gene seed's primal aspects comes with challenges. The Matadors must constantly guard against succumbing to the Red Thirst, the notorious flaw inherent in the Blood Angels' gene seed. While their discipline and unwavering loyalty to the Imperium help them resist the insidious influence of the Red Thirst, they must remain vigilant, for the call of their primal nature always lingers. The Matadors' gene-seed is a double-edged sword, bestowing them unparalleled combat prowess while testing their resolve and self-control. It is a testament to their unwavering dedication that they harness the primal aspects of their gene seed without succumbing to its darker temptations. The Matadors embrace their primal nature, wielding it as a weapon in defence of humanity, exemplifying the unyielding spirit and noble ferocity that defines their Chapter. In the annals of the Adeptus Astartes, the Matadors' gene seed stands as a unique testament to the enduring legacy of the Blood Angels and their indomitable spirit. It is a mark of distinction that sets the Matadors apart, as they combine the grace and nobility of their gene line with an untamed ferocity that sets them on a path all their own. Red Thirst My heart swells with anticipation and reverence as I stand among my fellow Matadors. The air is thick with solemnity, and a hushed silence falls upon us as the Sanguinary Priest steps forward to oversee the Ritual of the Unbroken Horn. His presence commands our utmost respect, for he is the conduit through which we confront and conquer our inner demons. In his hands, he holds the sacred relic, a magnificent horn carved from the horn of a formidable creature, a direct descendant of the wild beasts that roam our homeworld of Epona Prime. Its jagged edges glint in the flickering light, symbolizing the natural instincts that dwell within each of us, waiting to be unleashed. The horn is a connection to our Chapter's heritage, a tangible reminder of its potent symbolism. With steady hands, the Sanguinary Priest raises the horn above his head, commanding our unwavering attention. We watch, transfixed, knowing that what is about to unfold is significant for our struggle against the Red Thirst. A surge of anticipation courses through me as I feel the moment's weight. In one swift and purposeful motion, the Sanguinary Priest pierces his flesh with the horn, drawing forth a small measure of his blood. The sight is captivating and unsettling, as if we witness a momentary surrender to the primal forces within us. In that brief instant, I feel a deep connection to the untamed wilderness that runs through my veins, a glimpse into the raw power that courses through our Chapter. But the ritual does not end there. As the blood trickles down the horn, the Sanguinary Priest staunches the flow, symbolizing our ability to control our primal urges and maintain unwavering discipline. It is a profound demonstration of triumph over the raging storm within, a testament to our commitment to harness the raw power of the beast without succumbing to its overwhelming influence. The Ritual of the Unbroken Horn is a constant reminder of our ongoing struggle against the Red Thirst. It is a profound and cathartic experience when we confront our inner demons and emerge stronger. Through this ritual, we find solace, for it is in acknowledging and mastering our feral instincts that we can strike a delicate balance between our noble heritage and savage impulses. Our spirits are uplifted as we witness the Sanguinary Priest's mastery over the Red Thirst. We are reminded of our unyielding determination and unbreakable discipline. This ritual is a testament to our unshakable resolve, a reminder that we are warriors capable of controlling the relentless thirst for blood. In service to the Imperium, we wield our primal power with elegance and ferocity, embodying the essence of being a Matador. Organisation T Brother Equesanguis T he Equesanguis, mounted upon the mighty steeds bred exclusively for the Matadors, embody the epitome of the Chapter's ethos: a seamless fusion of noble tradition, genetic prowess, and awe-inspiring aesthetics. With their lances firmly gripped, the Matadors charge into the fray, executing precise thrusts and strikes against their adversaries. Their horsemanship skills are unmatched, allowing them to effortlessly control the enemy with unparalleled agility and finesse, a testament to their exceptional training and unwavering discipline. Rooted in their unyielding commitment to their cultural heritage, the Matadors' reliance on mounted combat pays homage to the time-honoured tradition of tauromachy that thrives upon their homeworld. Their tactics embody honour, bravery, and the exquisite elegance of combat, reminiscent of the ancient bullfighters whose legacy they uphold. Through this noble emulation, the Matadors bring forth the essence of their aristocratic lineage, transforming the battlefield into a canvas upon which grace and majesty intermingle with the indomitable fury bestowed upon them by the Blood Angels' gene-seed. The symbiotic relationship between the Equesanguis and the genetic heritage of the Matadors is a cornerstone of their mounted combat prowess. Infused with the potent essence of the vampiric Primarch Sanguinius, the Blood Angels' gene-seed gifts them with heightened senses, enhanced reflexes, and a feral instinct. As they ride their augmented steeds, the Matadors tap into these primal instincts, unchaining their inner beast and ascending to a heightened state of combat prowess. The bond between rider and horse becomes an unbreakable union, amplifying their formidable abilities to extraordinary levels. Their senses become attuned to the symphony of battle while their agility reaches unmatched heights, transforming horse and rider into a devastating force capable of turning the tide of war. But not only practicality and genetic enhancement drive the Matadors to choose mounted combat. Aesthetic appeal is of profound significance to these warriors of noble blood. They believe warfare should be more than conflict; it should be a captivating spectacle. Mounted upon their steeds, the Equesanguis charges become a mesmerising display that captivates the attention of allies and foes alike. The thunderous cacophony of hooves pounding the earth heralds their arrival, instilling a profound sense of awe and fear in the hearts of those who bear witness. It is a visual feast, an orchestrated ballet of steel and horseflesh, as the armoured warriors surge forward with unstoppable momentum. The psychological impact of such a display is immeasurable, sowing seeds of doubt and trepidation in the minds of those who dare oppose them. Through the Equesanguis, the Matadors honour their cultural traditions, harness the power of their gene-seed, and create an unparalleled spectacle on the battlefield. Their mounted combat tactics, executed with precision and grace, embody the fusion of ancient tradition and futuristic genetic enhancement. Horse and rider become a unified entity, embodying the noble spirit of their homeworld's aristocracy, channelling the primal instincts inherited from their Primarch, and leaving an indelible mark upon the annals of the Adeptus Astartes. The Equesanguis and the Matadors are forever intertwined, a legendary pair that symbolises the indomitable will, unyielding discipline, and unparalleled combat prowess of the noble warriors who ride them. Tactical Imperatives T he Matadors' Combat Doctrine and Tactical Imperatives encompass a harmonious fusion of art and warfare, transforming every engagement into a symphony of grace, precision, and devastating strikes. Inspired by their belief in the interplay between art and combat, the Matadors have developed a distinct approach that melds the mastery of mounted warfare, theatricality, and surgical precision. Central to their Combat Doctrine is the mastery of the Equesanguis, their formidable steeds. Through unwavering dedication and rigorous training, the Matadors perfect their horsemanship skills, refining their ability to control these genetically enhanced horses with unparalleled finesse and agility. Riding atop their majestic steeds, the Equesanguis, they charge into battle, their thunderous hooves pounding the ground, captivating both allies and adversaries. Drawing inspiration from the ancient art of tauromachy, the Matadors view combat as a deadly dance, an intricate choreography of lethal strikes and fluid movements. Striving to achieve a state of heightened awareness and fluidity on the battlefield, they blend mounted charges with agile footwork and synchronised attacks. Each engagement becomes a meticulously orchestrated performance aimed at overwhelming their opponents with a mesmerising display of martial prowess. Psychological warfare holds an important place among the Matadors' Tactical Imperatives. They understand the profound impact of aesthetics and theatrics on the battlefield. The sight of armoured warriors charging on horseback, lances held high, instils a deep sense of awe and fear in their foes. This visual spectacle, combined with the thunderous gallop of the Equesanguis, disrupts enemy formations and instigates doubt and trepidation in the hearts of those who dare oppose them. Precision and target prioritisation form the bedrock of the Matadors' tactical approach. Meticulously selecting their targets, they aim to swiftly and efficiently neutralise critical threats. The Matadors execute precise thrusts and strikes against vulnerable enemy positions, expertly exploiting weaknesses and openings in their defences. Surgical precision and unwavering coordination allow them to ruthlessly dismantle the enemy's forces. In the grand symphony of the battlefield, the Matadors play their part as harmonious instruments of the Emperor's will. They believe that their actions bring order and balance to the Imperium, safeguarding the innocent and purging the heretical. Their coordinated assaults seamlessly integrate mounted charges with ground-based infantry offensives, combining firepower and close combat prowess into a symphony of destruction. The Matadors' tactical acumen extends to the exploitation of terrain. They possess an intimate understanding of the battlefield, leveraging natural cover, chokepoints, and elevation to enhance their mobility and launch devastating attacks from unexpected angles. The terrain becomes an extension of their strategy, granting them advantageous positions to dictate the ebb and flow of battle and disrupt enemy formations. The Matadors embody the fusion of art and warfare through their unique Combat Doctrine and Tactical Imperatives. They skillfully combine the mastery of mounted combat, precise strikes, psychological warfare, and strategic finesse to create a battlefield symphony where each engagement becomes a mesmerising display of skill and artistry. In their unyielding pursuit of victory, the Matadors stand as a testament to the Adeptus Astartes' nobility, courage, and indomitable spirit. Devastation of Baal In the crucible of the Devastation of Baal, I, Captain Solarius of the Blood Angels, bore witness to the awe-inspiring might and grandeur of the Matadors. As the Tyranid hordes ravaged our beloved homeworld, the Matadors emerged as a shining beacon of hope amidst the devastation, their mastery of mounted warfare unrivalled and their presence a testament to the indomitable spirit of the Blood Angels. The Matadors' majestic Equesanguis, epitomised the grace and fury of the noble steed and its rider. Clad in resplendent armour, their banners streaming in the howling winds of battle, they charged forth with an unmatched equestrian finesse. The thunderous beat of hooves resounded across the shattered landscape, a symphony of determination that echoed through the hearts of all who beheld it. With lances held high, gleaming with righteous fury, the Matadors struck with the precision of a surgeon's blade. They exploited the weaknesses in the Tyranid lines, their swift charges slicing through the alien horde with devastating impact. It was a ballet of death, a display of martial prowess that left the Tyranids in disarray, their monstrous forms crumbling under the weight of the Matadors' righteous fury. I marvelled at their hit-and-run tactics, their ability to vanish and reappear like phantoms, leaving chaos and discord in their wake. The Matadors' lightning-fast cavalry charges unravelled the cohesion of the alien horde, sowing fear and confusion among their ranks. No Tyranid monstrosity was safe from their assault, for the Matadors targeted the synapse creatures and critical biomorphs, striking at the very heart of the Tyranid swarm. Their unwavering dedication to the cause of the Imperium was a sight to behold. Each stride of the Equesanguis reverberated with the hope and courage that the defenders of Baal desperately clung to. In their charge, the Matadors embodied the resilience and unyielding spirit of the Blood Angels, inspiring their battle-brothers to fight with renewed ferocity and unrelenting determination. But the Matadors were more than just masters of mounted warfare. Their swift mobility and heightened senses made them invaluable in reconnaissance and scouting. They galloped ahead of our forces, their keen eyes observing the Tyranids' every move, gathering vital intelligence that became the lifeblood of our strategic planning. The Matadors were not just warriors, but also the eyes and ears of our beleaguered forces, guiding us through the darkest of times. In the midst of battle, I witnessed their seamless coordination with other Blood Angel units. Their cavalry charges were perfectly synchronised with the relentless onslaught of the Death Company and the ethereal grace of the Sanguinary Guard. Together, they formed a formidable tapestry of destruction, exploiting the fractures in the Tyranid lines and delivering death upon the alien swarm with unrivalled precision. Their adaptability was unmatched. With seamless transitions, the Equesanguis dismounted, transforming their noble steeds into platforms for devastating fire support or agile strike forces. Bolt and blade became their weapons of choice as they unleashed a storm of righteous fury upon the enemy. They were warriors without equal, versatile in their approach and lethal in their execution. The Matadors' indomitable spirit in the face of overwhelming odds was a rallying cry for us all. Their valour and sacrifice kindled the flames of defiance within our hearts, refusing to bow before the encroaching darkness. In their noble sacrifice and unwavering determination, the Matadors became a symbol of the Imperium's unrelenting resolve, a shining example of heroism in the face of abhorrent alien menace. Their legacy, forged amidst the horrors of the Devastation of Baal, burned brightly in the annals of our history. They became an integral part of the Blood Angels, an embodiment of the Emperor's fury and the unbreakable bond between warrior and steed. The Matadors' exploits in mounted warfare were forever etched in the chronicles of Baal, a beacon of hope amidst the darkest hour. As I stood amidst the ruins of our homeworld, gazing upon the magnificent charge of the Matadors, I felt a surge of pride and admiration. They were a testament to Sanguinius, a testament to the unyielding spirit that defines us. In the face of unimaginable devastation, the Matadors stood tall, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is glory to be found in the pursuit of duty and honour. Chapter Fleet I n the void expanse, where battles unfold amidst the tapestry of stars, the fleet of the Matadors roams with a grace that mirrors their terrestrial counterparts. Just as their Equesanguis ride atop majestic steeds, the Matadors ride in a symphony of precision and artistry within hallowed spacefaring vessels. Their belief in the beauty of war is not confined to the earthly plane but extends to the celestial theatre, where they wield their might. The Matadors ' artistry in war finds expression within the confines of their grand vessels, adorned with resplendent embellishments and gleaming regalia. Each vessel is a floating masterpiece, an exquisite blend of functional design and opulent extravagance. Golden filigree weaves intricate patterns across the hull while crimson banners flutter in the cosmic winds, proclaiming the Chapter's vainglorious legacy. As the Matadors engage in void warfare, they draw inspiration from the teachings of the Equesanguis. Just as their brethren on the ground employ the tactics of tauromachy, the Matadors' fleet echoes the finesse and fluidity of their mounted charges. Like skilled riders, they navigate their ships through the tumultuous void, their movements a choreographed dance of calculated precision. The Matadors' fleet exhibits harmonious coordination reminiscent of the Equesanguis' synchronised charges in battle. Their Thunderhawk Transporters, like steeds of the cosmos, ferry the Matadors to the heart of the void-borne conflicts, their expanded landing bays serving as launch points for devastating strikes. The Matadors descend upon their foes with the grace of celestial cavalry, their tactical acumen honed through generations of Equesanguis lineage. Just as the Equesanguis incorporate their mounts' agility and speed into their martial prowess, the Matadors' fleet harnesses the fluidity of space to outmanoeuvre their adversaries. Their ships pirouette amidst the stars, evading enemy fire gracefully and precisely while delivering lethal salvos from their formidable arsenal. The dance of destruction unfolds in the void, a testament to the Matadors' belief that war can be a form of art. In this celestial ballet, the Matadors' fleet exemplifies their devotion to their Chapter's beliefs. Their battles are not mere displays of brute force but carefully orchestrated performances where each ship and each warrior play a vital role. The artistry of war is etched into their every manoeuvre and strategic decision. As they traverse the depths of space, the Matadors' fleet becomes a testament to their unwavering dedication to their craft. They embrace the duality of war, find beauty amidst the Chaos, and strive to create a masterpiece of devastation with every engagement. In the eyes of the Matadors, the void becomes their canvas, and their fleet becomes a living testament to the belief that artistry can thrive even amidst the darkness of battle.

Part One: Birth of an army New edition, new army - not a novel concept I know, but this is the first time I've been bitten by the hype bug for quite a while. This project came about for a number of reasons, I can’t quite place which was the overwhelming significant one. I’ve been a hobby-lifelong Iron Hands player. At the moment I technically possess 3: my original 40k-era army from 3rd through 7th editions; my 30K era Shattered Survivors army; and my current Primaris 40K era force. Although I’m proud of the last two – both painted using FW’s metallic IH scheme – I came to a realisation in May / June that whilst the models individually look nice, when put on the tabletop they look a bit… uninteresting. So although I wanted to stick with Iron Hands, I wanted an army which looked appealing on a shelf and on the tabletop. Sticking with my beloved 10th Legion, I then hit another bump. I didn’t want to do any of the known IH successors. A variety of reasons, mostly due to the paint schemes and restrictive existing lore. I contemplated having a go at the Reclaimers chapter, of Ciaphas Cain fame, but decided against it – for the same reasons – there isn’t much lore, and (having gotten as far as painting a test model) I wasn’t overly keen on the grey and yellow paint scheme. Obviously I’d have to improvise! Apologist. Yes, he’s to blame! In all seriousness, his blogs, forum posts and Instagram work all inspired me to take the plunge – I’ve toyed with creating my own army, world, lore – this seemed like the prime opportunity. Combined with the fact that I've unintentionally become my gaming group's DM / GM / Loremaster and general organiser, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to take the plunge and start something completely new. (With apologies to GW...) I toyed around with a few colour schemes at first. Although I wasn’t keen on the grey and yellow of the reclaimers test, I did quite like the grey - I just had to alternate and experiment. I liked the blue and the orange-red, but realised that they'd be both be a nightmare to paint a full army of marines with. I very sincerely take my hat off to anyone who paints an entire army of marines orange. Why grey? I liked the idea that as a relatively new-born chapter (more on that later), the army wore forge-fresh armour, given a simple coat of grey to protect the metal. So I'd settled on grey - but I felt it needed something a little more - bearing in mind why I'd started this project in the first place. Turquoise! Only, due to a total brain-fart and completely forgetting how colours work, it ended up more of dark blue colour. Regardless, I quite liked the effect. Reminded me a lot of the marine helmet on the front cover of the 8th edition rule book. I decided that I wanted a coloured stripe along the top of the helmet, again to break up the colours. I toyed with red and a faded yellow / bone colour. Although I liked the red, I felt that it didn't really work. It may return in the future though... Colours decided, it was then onto the markings. I knew that they were going to be an Iron Hands successor. I also knew that, like their parent legion, the Wardens would be organised into clans, rather than Codex Astartes approved companies - more on this later. Conveniently, I have a large amount of surplus FW 30K era clan markings. Perhaps a bit lazy, but I felt it worked well enough. This happy chap, Captain Medlock, was the first HQ choice I threw together for the force. Made from an ETB Intercessor and a host of spare bits, he started out life as my colour scheme test-model. As an Iron Hands successor, and a young one at that, I wanted the chapter to be fairly 'no frills' affair, with limited decoration. The various targetting gear on his backpack is my way of representing the captain's in-game buff ability, and more importantly, help make him look a little bit less like a common squad leader. This was also a first for me - I'd made a character model for a new army and it wasn't some kind of techmarine / Iron Father. I'll admit, even I was shocked by that... For something thrown together from spare parts and scrap, I'm happy with him - but, I can't help feel that he doesn't look enough like a captain. He may well recieve a demotion to lieutenant, should I ever get around to building a replacement. Anyway, I think that's enough for one post. Next time I'll expand a little on the lore, the campaign setting, and the other units that have been added to the army. Cheers! Thanks for looking. (Here's hoping that for once I can actually keep up my promise to update a blog / WIP thread...)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ “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!