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A short fanfic and some models.


OrdosInquisition

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A small fan fiction about my Inquisitor Lord and two of his henchmen accompanied by some pictures of them. I may continue this, I'm not sure, will probably depend on if you like it or not :jaw:

 

Cold Awakening

It burned my eyes and pained every part of my body. It robbed me of my memories of the event and drove crystal through my wounds that locked up my limbs but still I opened my eyes and sat up. My head throbbed and my vision went in and out of focus, I knew it would only be a short while before my stomach knotted. I swallowed hard, gulping down the formed saliva in my mouth then closed my eyes only to quickly open them again finding that it made the nausea worse.

Blood.

My blood.

It was everywhere.

My vision began to blur, as I struggled to keep my eyes open. The pain was excruciating and it was only by sheer force of will that I did so. My consciousness began to slip as my limbs turned numb, I was fading, fading into a realm where the pain would finally be over and I could rest. I was going to die. My mind suddenly raced, the body rejecting death as an option. It had been drilled into me, every day, every week, every month. I was the best the Imperium had, an Inquisitor Lord. Unwillingness to give up wasn’t just present it was paramount. I tried to focus long enough to calm myself, I reminded myself

why I was here, lying on a cold bed of icy snow with nothing but the taste of my own blood in my mouth. I focused on that taste, discerning the bitter yet sweet flavor of the blood kept me conscious, it gave me purpose for a few more minutes, it was all I needed.

I didn’t remember much, just that the drop pod transporting me and my retinue had been torn apart entering the atmosphere. One in a million drop pods constructed by the competent Adeptus Mechanus fail and that’s usually after millennia of use and damage.

One in million. Pretty good odds.

I was starting to become mildly delusional by the time Helmutson and Korsakov dragged me out from under the rubble. The palms of my hands had been slashed open, down through the wrist and onto the arm I could barely feel them even as I was yanked upwards. If you’re hurt badly enough your body doesn’t bother with pain, pain is a sign that the body sends to alert you sometimes though, it just assumes you know, snow pelted onto my face and I tried to spit it off my mouth, we were in a blizzard.

There, I knew my stomach was going to knot.

I was carried into a structure, I didn’t know what and I didn’t really care. I was just glad to be out of the snow. Korsakov was already working on my wounds; an expert in the intricacies of human anatomy, I’d first encountered Korsakov on the ice world of Valhalla wasting his skills as a medic for a Valhallan regiment. I saw potential in him and his skills met the criteria. The Ordo Hereticus requires a great diversity of skills to accomplish its goals and after several incorruptibility tests; his were added to its ranks. Helmutson on the other hand had been with me since day one, since the days before I became an Inquisitor Lord. The portly old man had become more of a personal aide to me both on the field and off. He was a linguist with an augmented ability to process and store vast swathes of cogent information as well as an expert at calculating trajectories. Helmutson was the only one in the retinue to have been around longer then Korsakov, in truth; it was his keen eye that first brought Korsakov to my attention.

It was getting less difficult to remain conscious now but I was still numb with pain when I heard Korsakov mutter quietly to himself.

“By the Emperor, he’s still conscious.”

It wasn’t much, but it amused me.

 

Inquistor:

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/Inquisitor.jpg

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/InquisitorBack.jpg

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/CombiCrossbow.jpg

Helmutson and Korsakov:

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/HelmetsunandKarsakov.jpg

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/Helmutsonback.jpg

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Thanks number6 <_<

 

Just thought seeing as this is effectively my first major post I might add a little bit about myself.

I'm fairly new to the Warhammer scene in general, I was recommended Witch Hunters by a guy at GW because I went after work and told them i was thinking of collecting and that I'd quite like an army with a bit of zeal. The first question he asked me (a good one) was what kind of weapons do you tend to like? I answered flamethrowers first and he took some sisters of the wall, told me a bit about them and I was hooked. My reason for starting the hobby was my friend was thinking about collecting and he already knew some people who played.

Anyhow, i think merely browsing through this forum has really helped me become a better player, a lot of people here know what they are talking about...but enough about me

 

here's some more minis.

 

Flamethrowers:

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/Flamers.jpg

The one with the arm up stretched is waiting on a weapon conversion. I'll get there ;)

The Crossbow is an old dwarf plastic crossbow from warhammer fantasy, It was applied with the standard plastic glue Games Workshop sells and the bolter was shaved down in an attempt to get it to look more like an assault rifle. I figure the image was better fitting for a guy who is usually firing at long range with his retinue. The inquisitor is a Mephiston model and the sword is a converted chainsword, (blades are removed and green stuff mostly to smooth it out)

I figured I would keep most of my questions and postings here as I feel a little meh about starting multiple threads, this is sort of my first forum participating exercise and I'm hoping I don't piss too many people off by asking lots of questions.

Anyway, my question of the day is:

 

Where can I get sisters of battle backpacks, or backpacks that would work for sisters of battle? I have some models i just painted, however, I lost the backpacks and so now, i have a broad range of miniatures without packs, what should I be doing? All advice is welcome.

 

Oh and here's one of my girls, hope you like hats.

http://i459.photobucket.com/albums/qq314/OrdosInquisition/Melta.jpg

I figured I would keep most of my questions and postings here as I feel a little meh about starting multiple threads, this is sort of my first forum participating exercise and I'm hoping I don't piss too many people off by asking lots of questions.

 

Don't worry about that, that's what forums are for, if no-one asked questions there would be no forum. As for actually answering your question I have no idea, ebay maybe? (That's my answer for everything) Oh, and that gals looking good, I love your colour scheme, it really works.

Working on the story, and Midas, just for you, this is the scheme

 

Whites:

 

Base coat: Leather

Second highlight: Bleached Bone work up with Bone/skull white until you get it where you want it.

Ink: Chestnut wash in crevices to taste. Chestnut ink has been discontinued but you should be able to some online if you don't all ready have some.

 

Blues

 

Basecoat: Regal Blue

Second highlight: Enchanted blue, work up with Enchanted Blue/Bleached Bone mix until you get the shade you want.

 

Faces/Hair:

Dwarf Flesh over face and hair, then dry brush hair only to desired colour.

 

I will be posting a Cannoness soon, so stay tuned.

Cold Awakening Continued

I remember the dreams.

It’s been awhile but I remember them like they happened not a night ago.

 

My legs are unable to carry me.

I fall to all fours hanging my head and panting, my chest rising and falling in hurried convulsing movement. 'Get out! Get out! It is killing you, you must get out!' My mind races and my body convulses. There is pain. Get Out! Get Out! My thoughts scream from within and my impulse is to run, to hide, to disappear and never come back to this place. 'Get out, Get out! It is killing us.'

My limbs go weak and my hands shake from the effort to keep myself from falling onto my face, I gasp slightly and a grunt of exerted frustration escapes my lips.

'No,' I answer, knowing it can hear, 'It is killing you.'

Another convulsion, my body spasm's radically and my head connects with something hard. I wince and roll onto my back dazed, twitching slightly from the pain. I want to resist but the dream is always the same and I know it won’t let me, all the voices come back.

'No matter how hard you try Koslov, they will hate you,’ its words echo in my mind, I want to tear out my eyes. 'Some were born to lead and some were born to serve. You are a servant, so you will serve your master.

My whole body begins to perspire and for some reason my inquisitional wards do nothing to prevent it. Knowing that to leave my clothes on would cause my body to overheat and die, I begin to rip, pulling large sections of it apart until I lay on the cold stone floor naked, my body exposed.

I can hardly prevent my head falling to one side; I have never in my life been so tired.

 

I awoke to Korsakov shaking me, but his shouts were drowned out by the sound of bolter shells ricocheting off the structure. My head cleared and my eyes narrowed in focus, the pain was almost gone. I glanced about briefly and I knew where we were. This was the inner body of the Armoured Personal Carrier that we referred to as Kalinka. Kalinka was a robust, tracked all-terrain vehicle, sealed against hostile environments and fit to carry about ten men comfortably. Kalinka utilized the S.T.C pattern. For those of you that do not know what that means, S.T.C stands for Standard Template Construction. After the Age of Strife almost all the S.TC templates had been lost or destroyed utterly. The reliability of the original Rhino design meant that it has changed little over the thousands of intervening years and was now a solid choice for transporting almost any of the imperium units.

But now it was time for action.

 

“Korsakov, pass me the voiceover transmission for the laud hailers and ready the Servitors, Helmutson get her moving.”

 

Bolter rounds weren’t going to penetrate Kalinka’s hull but a lucky shot might glance through and sever a power line or damage the tracks. The risk was minimal but I intended to keep it that way. Three gun servitors had now lumbered forward, rising from where they sat previously. It is unlikely that any of you reading this do not know what a servitor is but I shall explain anyway. A Servitor is a merging of human and technology, a cybernetic being created for the purposes of assisting in various menial tasks. My servitors, like most, were created from those who would have been sentenced to death. They have their memories erased before becoming mechanical slaves to the Imperium and mostly they are used by the Adeptus Astrates to assemble their pre-fabricated structures and place defences such as mine fields and turrets. Mine are what are referred to as Gun Servitors and I imagine that’s fairly self explanatory. Without further delay, I lifted the voiceover to my lips.

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