even More fluff

[Brother Nihm]

Are there any other SoM fluff sources, apart from these?

 

Sons of Malice

Codex: Eye of Terror - Sons of Malice are listed amongst the forces present during the 13th BLack Crusade, Scelus Sub-sector is denoted on the starchart.

UK White Dwarf: #287, EOT Conclusion - details the Sons of Malice' homeworld of Scelus

UK White Dwarf: #303, Index Astartes Rogue Sons - Details of the Sons of Malice and their actions during the Cillix campaign.

W40k Apocalypse: Cillix is noted on the Star chart.

[ImperialTemplari]

Thanks guys, will be working on these more tonight, hey Brother Nihm I presume your post was meant as a new post, have you http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Sons_of_Malice

[ImperialTemplari]

Hi guys

 

This isthe first time I have written fluff, infact the first time as an adult I have written any sort of story, please let me know what you think

 

The Tithing

 

There it was again, the sound of a thousand pieces of parchment tearing, Conner’s eyes flew open, he stared out the window at the still blackness, it had been 22 years since he had heard that sound but it was unmistakable, he felt his intestines knot with fear.

 

His farther had been a strong man, tall and lean with the broad shoulders that only 30 years of plowing the earth can give, leathery skin and cold steel blue piercing eyes, he had only seen these eyes well with tears twice in his life, once with sorrow and the other with frustration, anger and pain, on a warm summers night much like this one.

The first time he had seen his farther cry he was overwhelmed with confusion, he was 12 years old and filled with joy and pride, because he was Conrad’s little brother, Conrad was 14, unlike himself who had inherited his mothers looks, short stocky and blond, Conrad took after their farther, and he was the toast of the village, all the boys in the school house were talking about it, Conrad was a hero, he had capture the flag at the yearly battling. It now hung with hundreds of other blue, yellow, red, brown, black, purple and white flags in the hall of honor in the capital, the counts “Greens” had had a run of bad luck over the previous decade, not capturing a flag in 10 years. But his big brother had broken the streak and captured a flag. He had not done as well at his own battling not because he wasn’t brave or strong, but because he listened to his father’s warning, he knew he couldn’t show too much bravery, he was now his father’s only son. “when your given an order Conner, I want you to count to 10 before you obey it, be brave but not too brave, pick the strongest boy in your regiment and watch his back on the field, help him capture the flag” Conner dared not ignore his father, the desperation in his voice was too obvious.

The day his brother had come home a hero, the regiments, led by a band had marched through his village to cheers and applause, his was a remote village so their numbers had lessened as the youths would go home when the arrived at their towns, but it was still impressive, his heart had nearly burst with joy when he saw his brother carrying the flag at the head of the parade, he had turned to his father, but the laughter caught in his throat like saw dust, his father’s strong blue eye were filled with tears, at first he thought he was crying with joy, but there was something else in his eyes, it was the same look he had had when nanny Telma had passed, sorrow.

There wasn’t much crime in his village or for that matter in the whole country, the counts men would come through the land yearly to collect the taxes and the tithing, “never break the laws” his father would say “or you will be invited to the counts table for your last supper”, his county was responsible for paying 3 females and 2 males to the tithing, these were always picked from those who had committed crimes over the previous years, nobody wanted to be part of the tithing, so much so that there was hardly any crime, people would go out of their way to be seen as the most honest in the land, when there weren’t enough criminals to fill the tithe those who showed cowardice at the battling would fill the ranks. Nobody knew exactly what happened to the tithed, there were rumors and legends, as a young boy he had heard all the legends, it was said that the count lived in a castle on a mountain many miles from the village, some said he would eat the tithed others said he would drink the blood straight from the veins of the tithed, nobody really knew but it was enough to keep people honest and brave at the battling.

The second time he had seen his father cry was also the first time he had heard that noise, it was also the only time he had seen the count, it had been a moon since that triumphant battling, he had woken to the noise, however there was no fear this first time, only curiosity, he had looked out his window and had gasped with awe, there was the biggest carriage he had ever seen, but there were no horses or oxen to pull it along and somehow with great magic it actually flew like a bird, it was hard to see the colour clearly in the dark night but he could tell it was black and deep red, the cart had landed softly in the wheat field at the front of the house, a ramp at the back hissed open like a snake, 10 of the biggest men he had ever seen marched down the ramp and formed two ranks to the rear of the giant flying bird. These men, or he thought they were men because they all wore helmets and their limbs were made from iron, looking almost like the iron hay crane that gave him huge calluses on his hands, they were impossible tall, his drill instructor whilst he was undergoing the mandatory 12 month battle training in preparation for the battling was the biggest man he had ever met, he was a butcher by trade, over 6 foot tall and his diet of meat and hauling carcasses around meant he was very well muscled, but he would look like a child next to one of these, they were clad in the strangest armor he had seen. He had often seen the counts men on their yearly pilgrimages, but they were ordinary men, the armor they wore was old and dented, it would clang and creak when they walked and they often looked cumbersome in it, these men in his fathers wheat field looked anything but cumbersome, they moved impossibly fast and agile like the acrobats that would perform in the spring fair, their armor was the same black and red as the carriage they traveled in, and made an almost inaudible whirring sound as they moved, their eyes glowed an eerie green light like candles behind green church glass.

The count dismounted the carriage last, he surprisingly didn’t wear green as Conner had imagined he would, but had the same black and red armor as his men, only more ornate, covered in strange icons, he had a long cape and what looked like a blood drop with white wings on his shoulder amour, Conner gasped with fear, the count was not wearing a helmet like the others and the face he saw would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life, the count seemed to have a head made from iron, with wires running down the back, the face was like a loose fitting fleshy mask and did not look like it belonged on the counts head, but should be detached like the mask Conner wore at the summer ball, the skin was pale, almost blue, scarred terribly like he had seen a thousand battles, the eyes were piercing but wise with countless years of experience, there were wisps of grey hair at the beginning of the forehead, showing that if the skin had covered the whole head he would have had a full head of grey almost white hair.

He was some mesmerized by the sight that he had not notice is father approach the strange group, he only became aware of him because of his screaming, “not my son, you can not have my son” at this point one of the counts men shot forward and gentle struck his father, sending him flying several meters through the air, “you will kneel before your lord, or you will loose your head” his father grabbed the hoe that leaned against the front porch and charged at the count screaming a wild battle cry, seemingly in slow motion the boy watched as the as the giant armored bodyguard drew his sword, “wait” the word from the count froze the soldier mid swing, his father reached the top of the ramp and with his full strength broke the hoe across the giants face, the count did not flinch “I admire your courage, it is obvious your son gets his courage from you, I will forgive this attack on your lord as an acknowledgment of your bravery, do not however see this as a sign of weakness, if you continue to resist I will take you son and destroy the rest of your family” with these words the counts soldier grabbed his father with a huge mailed hand and forced him to kneel, two soldiers were now dragging his brother from the house kicking and screaming in chains, his brother was thrown to the ground in front of the lord, Conner could see his brothers face in the lights of the carriage, there was only a moment of fear on Conrad’s face before he gathered his courage and stared up at the horribly mask defiantly, “yes, he will do nicely” the lord laughed, for the first time Conner noticed the counts teeth, they were long and sharp, designed to tare flesh like an animals, not human at all, more K9, dread filled Conner’s heart as he saw his brother dragged up the ramp and into the back of the carriage in irons, he looked at his father and saw him weeping with rage and frustration, the tears leaving long streaks in the dust on his cheeks.

After that night he had talked to the other villagers to find out what would become of his brother, there were many different stories, Conner found out that it was uncommon for the count to tithe personally but that it had happened rarely before, but only to the very bravest and skilled youths, some said that the blood of the brave was sweeter than the blood of criminals and cowards, others said that he would become a guard at the counts castle, no one who was taken ever came back and no villager had seen the counts castle, so no one really new, he hoped that his brother was still alive somewhere but when he remembered those teeth he doubted it.

Conner jumped out of bed, he had convinced himself that his son would be spared, after all the green count had won the battling 5 years in a row and only the usual tithing was asked, he had thought of sending the boy away after he had captured the flag at his own battling but he knew it would be useless to run or hide, he only had 1 son, he could not loose him, he ran to the mantelpiece where his fathers sword hung, he felt cold, with no emotion he walked to the door, he had inherited his fathers farm when he had passed and the flying carriage stood in the same field as it did all those years ago, the count stood at the top of the ramp and his men formed two ranks at the bottom “no you will not take my son” Conner yelled, “not my son” already the tears of frustration and anger had started to stream, he now knew exactly how his father had felt that night 22 years ago, he charged at the count waving his sword in the air, if I can just get close enough to thrust it into his throat, he thought, he was at the foot of the ramp when the mailed hand slapped him in the chest, the air rushed from his lungs and he fell to the ground, the counts massive soldier stood over him, he slowly removed his helmet, and look down at him, two steel blue eyes looking out from a nightmare face “kneel before your lord little brother or I will part your head from your shoulders”

[ImperialTemplari]

Hi guys

I was going to do a series of short stories but the fluff didn't get any reaction at all so I might stick to making figures, here is the Lamenting Angels termi squad, I may consider doing an assault termie squad down the track, still trying to finalise the paint scheme I will use, I will keep the black/dark red scheme, but should I do the cog pattern bling white or yellow? thinking off adding a tabard to the vet sarg.

[drizzt73]

they look great, can't wait to see more!

[Big Mek GrabNutz]

ill tell you why the story didn't get a reaction...

 

BECAUSE IT WAS BLOODY AWSOME!

 

seriously, thats your first time writing? it was flawless! you captured the sense of sorrow from the father, and malice of the chapter lord...admittedly, you should have put in some paragraphs, that would have made it a lot easeir to read, and not as imposing as a whole chunk of writing, but the content was amazing!

 

btw, i love the termies, i must admit. i didnt realy like the legs on your normal marines, it made them look to spindly, but the termies are great!

 

9.9/10 on the story (just put some paragraphs in)

 

8/10 on the termies (i love how you did the blending of the grays and whites even without using paint :) just get some paint on them and they'le be 10/10)

[ImperialTemplari]

Thanks Big Mek

 

Heres another, all comments welcome.

 

The Nautilus

 

Captain Veticus looked down at his bloody stump, the pain had been unbearable but a slightly fuzzy feeling from the pain meds had kicked in, he hoped the ships doctor was still alive because the cherub was useful for first aid but it would not be able sow his leg back on, despite the pain meds he was starting to feel a little panicked, he had sent the prayer to the emperor at lest 10 minutes ago and there had been no response, whilst the Emperors ship the Nautilus was an Imperial ship it was only a heavy cargo hauler, therefore he only had a naval marine detachment on board, It was only because of his position as an imperial ships captain that he knew the enemy that had boarded them, the ships crew and marines would not know what was killing them, Necrons, a shiver went up his spine. They must be after his precious cargo of fuel cells. He watched the cherub glide of into the sparking, smoky blackness to help the next wounded man, with the sound of the claxon in his ears his vision blurred and he drifted off.

 

“sir, sir” he awoke to someone shaking him, he was confused at first, it was dark and he could hardly breath through the clouds of fumes and smoke in the bridge, he only remembered the attack when he saw the door to the bridge had been barricaded, how long had he been out?, had his prayer been answered? “there’s an imperial ship approaching sir, and the enemy ship has jumped away” the voice sounded far off as if from a fog, “thank the emperor, is the enemy still aboard?” he rasped through a raw throat. “yes sir, but we have barricaded the door, it should hold for a while”, Veticus went to stand, he whimpered in pain, he had forgotten about the leg, dam, he only had a week till retirement, he had served in the imperial navy since he was 14 and never had a major injury, 1 week before retirement and he looses his leg. I have to survive this he thought.

 

He watched in anger as they cut a hole in his ship, he wanted to live and new time was precious but he still hated the idea of the hole, the very large round chunk of hull fell to the floor with a huge thump, they had better be well armed troopers coming through that hole, “couldn’t you have used the boarding hatc….” The last word stuck in his throat like sand.

 

He had seen a space marine once, a whole squad in fact, they had rode shot gun on a ship he served on as a boy, They were huge, wearing massive shiny blue and white armor, he learned later that they were part of a chapter called Ultra, he had stared in awe at them as they had thumped past him down the corridor, he had felt safe with them aboard, the marines that strode through the hole now where different, they inspired awe yes, but also terror, their armor was red and black, but unlike the shiny new looking armor of the ultra’s these marines looked like they had fought a million battles, whilst their equipment was well looked after the scares of countless conflicts covered their armor from head to foot, they all had bionic limbs, looking almost like robots as they strode across the room.

 

“hail the emperor” Veticus saluted, he was feeling much better, his confidence was back, they were going to live, “yes” the marine murmured dismissively, “sit rep” he demanded, the captain started to give a detailed situation report but was roughly cut off mid sentence, “ how many and where?” “through the door, follow the corridor to the right you will find a couple of dozen Necrons”, without any further acknowledgment the marine turned, he watch the broad backs of the marines disappear through the door, he hoped some of his crew had lived, he could see the 6 bridge crew had survived around him, apart from the sounds of fighting echoing the ship he had heard nothing of his 40 shipmates or the 10 naval marines.

 

The noise of fighting had died down 5 minutes ago, he was feeling groggy again, he could hear the voices of the space marines approaching the door, “…we do not have time to feed, we need to catch up to the Necron raider” “ it would be good for moral Conrad” They had entered the room now, each marine dragging a Necron by the neck like a sack of potatoes, The marine named Conrad threw the Necron across the room to the marine who had been guarding the hole, “ send them off to Mars with the others and prepare to leave” “sir”, Conrad turned slowly to look around the room “OK but just this room”, Veticus watched the marine approach him, a knot slowly growing in his stomach, “thank you sir, we appreciate the help, will you be towing us to the nearest port?” “no, we will send a message to the Imperium, they will come and salvage their ship, we must hurry to catch the Necrons”, the marine reached out and grabbed the captain, easily lifting him and carried him through the hole.

 

Captain Veticus’s vision was blurring again, “what about my leg?” he mumbled, he could see the other crewman from the bridge also being carried to rescue, he saw the boarding hatch being closed, “what about the rest of the crew?” he felt the ship slowly pull away from the Nautilus, NO his mind screamed, they didn’t seal the hole, the marine named Conrad dropped him onto a bench, he reached up and started to take his helmet off, “what about my leg?” the captain repeated, Conrad had now removed his helmet, the captain could feel consciousness slipping away, he looked into the marines cold steel blue eyes, staring intently at him from a nightmare of a face, “you have no use for your leg now captain” the last thought the captain had before he passed out was “why are his teeth so big?”

[ImperialTemplari]

Hi guys

 

Have been painting the Terminators, half done, will post something soon, heres some more fluff.

 

How does a battleship disappear?

 

This was it, he was picking up enough debris on the scanners to show a small battle had taken place, the emergency beacons signal was now very strong, the largest piece of debris floated several kloms away, he could see as they approached it was an imperial scout ship, parts of the hull scared and melted from laser fire, it was red and black with a white winged blood drop on the hull, and the scanners were picking up signs of life.

 

As an inquisitor Danal had investigated hundreds of thousands of cases but none had lasted as long as this one, during an inquisitors apprenticeship he is given many cases, most are small and menial which their masters delegate to their apprentice, but occasionally one is given to the apprentice to test the individuals skills, though he didn’t know it at the time the case of the battleship “Lamenting Angels” was one such case, it had beeen given to thousand of apprentices for thousands of years to test their patience and ability to deal with the unsolvable, though he found out later that it wasn’t true all apprentices are told that they will not graduate if they fail to solve a case they had been given, this is design to get the best out of the apprentice.

 

The facts of the case are, 6 thousand years ago a file was discovered with the label “the Lamenting Angels” it was located in the battleship section of the imperial librarium, a folder of this nature in this section is created upon the commissioning of a imperial battleship and can only be deleted by someone with very high clearance, however the contents of the folder had been virus bombed and was now unreadable data sludge.

 

So what had happened to the Lamenting Angels, over the 50 year apprenticeship he had done all the usual investigations, he had browsed thousands of navel battle reports, battleship upgrade reports, navel docking manifests, decommission reports, personnel posting reports, ammunition allocations etc. but had found nothing, then he had graduated and had not thought of the case, until now.

 

He now sat at his desk reading a brief on a minor naval engagement, one that he was going to pass to his apprentice until he read the sentence, “….naval combat between a Lamenting Angels scout ship and an unknown party” there it was again after all these years, he had not thought of this case in over 50 years, but he new immediately that he had found a key, reading further he found that the scout ship belonged to the Lamenting Angels space marine chapter, but there was a problem there was no record of this chapter, the case had turned from a simple test to something much more serious and sinister.

It was true that a folder like this could not be deleted without high level authority, however lesser authority could relocate the folder, it had to have been moved from the space marine database to the battleship folder, the case was now reactivated.

 

The questions now are, who would want, why would they want to and how would they cover up the existence of a space marine chapter. A space marine chapter was a very power full and dangerous organization, and the thought of one outside of the emperor’s control was terrifying.

[ImperialTemplari]

Hi Guys, no responces, please comment even if it is only to tell me to stop writting fluff, anyhow heres some more.

 

The Blessing

 

He new it was going to be a risky move, but it was essential that he crossed the fifty meters of open ground into the safety of the ruined factory, from there her would be able to provide enfilade fire allowing the company enough cover to attempt a frontal assault.

 

He had volunteered not because he had a death wish, although he was not afraid to die, he found himself volunteering for more and more dangerous missions these days, always to return unscathed, that is how he got his unlucky nickname “Konrad the whole”, under normal circumstances he would have been considered lucky taking all the risks he did and never having sustained a serious wound, but these were not normal circumstances, he was a Lamenting Angel.

 

“the changing” was a custom 5 thousand years old, the Lamenting Angels were a Blood Angels successor chapter, and along with most other chapters of this linage they suffered a horrible curse, one that sent a shiver down the backs of the most hardened marines on mentioning, the “black rage”, many heroic, fit, healthy marines had succumbed to the rage, it was easy to laugh death in the face but to go mad, and not be in control of yourself was horrifying.

 

The founders of the chapter many millennia ago had hoped tweaking of the gene seed would have avoided the chapter inheriting the curse, but it was fruitless, they had come so close but had failed, they then started to try and find other ways to cure the curse, one of the chapters scientist had the idea that curses and impurities were tied to the weakness of the flesh, if the chapter somehow could find a way to combat the weakness of the flesh they maybe able to cure the curse. Superstition then prevailed, the word spread amongst the marines that maybe there was a cure, it was testament to the fear the curse held that marines started willingly amputating their limbs in an attempt to purge themselves of their weak flesh. This practice became pandemic, so much so that the effectiveness of the chapter was in jeopardy with literally hundreds of marines at a time in the sickbay awaiting bionic replacements, this drove the chapter leadership to introduce a law, no marine shall willingly injure themselves in anyway to replace their flesh, this law became cannon. It had the side effect of making already brave marines push them selves beyond their normal heroic deeds and take on enemy even with the worst odds, all in an attempt to invoke injury to their flesh, the medics no longer even tried to heal injuries, always removing as much of the damaged flesh as possible and replacing with the mechanical reliability of bionics.

 

Most of the marines around him had many bionics, it was rare for a marine to have all his limbs, and considered impossible for a sergeant of the first company to have all his limbs, but not unlucky Konrad, sure he’d had his skull replaced and his facemask reattached, all Lamenting Angels underwent this procedure as part of their initiation, but otherwise he was whole, no matter how hard he fought, how many enemy he killed he could not be injured, his comrades playfully teased him about his condition but secretly were suspicious, with this thought he willed his terminator armor into a sprint.

 

He opened his eyes, the dark black greasy clouds rolled over head, at first he thought the squeal was coming from his helmets audio, but then he noticed the cool rain gently falling upon his face, any other human would have described the poisonous rain as stingingly hard, however since the initiation hundreds of years ago he no longer felt much on his cold numb skin. The explosion had blown his helmet clean off, the tasted of acidic air burned his throat and lungs with every breath he took, he would be OK though, his lunges easily filtered the pollution out.

 

He had to move, he would now be an easy target lying on his back like a turtle, as he rolled over he calculated he only had 10 m to the dark safety of the factory, it was urgent he provide covering fire, battle brothers were relying on him, his ears were still ringing and he was sure bio ears replaced would be needed, luckily his suit provided the balance and not his old human cochlea, that had gone long ago, he lurched forward only to plunge face first into the mud, “strange” he thought, “maybe the suits hydraulics were damaged, he tried to get to his feet again only to topple sideways, he could see the little puffs of dust and fountains of mud as explosive rounds hit the factory wall and the muddy ground around him, he crawled the last meters as fast as he could, rolled onto his back and looked back at the clearing, the first thing he noticed was a trail of blood linking his stump to his leg, which lay in a puddle of a crater, his suit had now stemmed the blood flow and was administering pain killers. He smiled slightly with a mixture of pain and relief as he pulled the trigger of his trusty storm bolter, his luck had finally changed.