Sons of Dorn/Thunderhawk

[synapse]

love these models, esp the legion of the damned, and that new set of photos is really exquisite - the one thing i know i should work on but dont! keep up the good work

[WNxKilljoy]

Unknown Marine. Unknown Chapter. This is an image of a marine taken on one of the battlefields near the Eye. Marines like him have been known to appear to assist the Sons of Dorn in times of great need. They glow an unearthly green and appear to be translucent to some effect. Whenever they appear it is in a thick cloud of fog and they leave burning foot prints in their wake. They seem to be impervious to almost all forms of attack and usually turn the tide of battle with their fearsome skills. No one has been able to reach them to either thank them or question them as they mysteriously disappear as soon as their work is done. All that is known is that their presence has been recorded more times in the last century then any other time in the Chapter's history. Whether this bodes ill or well for the Sons of Dorn only the ghostly specters know for sure.

http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i317/tylerrox6688/lotd.jpg

 

Comments and Crit welcome, thanks!

 

I can hear the Rasping metallica voice!

 

Absolutely astounding work!

[BrotherSargeantDaro]

I loved these guys back in the day, man! They inspired some of my more ambitious Templar conversions. Alas, I moved away from Greco-Roman themes, but I do count your Chapter as one my Templars Spiritual/Thematic Influences.

 

seconded. stand tall Sons of Dorn!

 

salute*

[BrotherSargeantDaro]

i love your chapter... i will be starting a chapter like this very soon....

[Dark Scipio]

Everything is very nice.

 

Name

Background

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Legion

Models

[nurgling6688]

Thanks guys, I love hearing how much people like this chapter. Unfortunately they are on the back burner right now in favor of my Astral Claws. And probably behind my Nurgle army as well. I am debating whether or not I want to re-purpose my Thunderhawk for my Astral Claws, although the Sons will never disappear. Thoughts?

 

Also, here is a shameless plug for my new blog http://mengelminiatures.blogspot.com/

[Pulse]

Recommission the Thunderhawk - FOR THE TYRANT!!!!!!!!!! *ahem*

[nurgling6688]

So this morning I decided to start writing a short story I had in my head. This is just part one. Enjoy.

For those who haven't read my chapters fluff in the Liber Astartes forum Sons of Dorn History this story takes place after their home world has been invaded and almost destroyed by Tyranids. Only the 1st company and a few other companies were present. Most were elsewhere and arrived much later to relieve the forces on the planet. The 4th company led this as they are seen as the greatest outside the 1st. Due to the lateness of the other companies arrivals most of the planet's environment had already been destroyed.

R

olling green pastures, clear blue skies, sparkling oceans and soaring mountains. That is how Brother Caligus remembered Archea. That is how it looked when he had last left its surface years ago. What he saw now, broke his hearts.

Charred ruin and destruction is all that surrounded him, dotted by foul xenos corpses and their flora they brought with them. The sky was a choked panorama of smoke and spores drifting in the wind, lit by the dull glow of distant fires. The seas were half drained by the unquenchable thirst of the invaders and the mountains left a chewed out ruin as they had been stripped for minerals. Every now and then they had seen a black and white body buried under the numerous Tyranids he had taken with him to the grave. Here they would stop, pay their respects to their fallen brother, mark his location to retrieve his arms and armor later, and collect the chapter’s due before moving on. It was a solemn journey; one most of his brothers took in silence. Their Rhino jarred him back and forth as it traversed the desecrated ground, grinding the bones of the dead to dust beneath its treads. Caligus grabbed onto the side of the open top hatch to steady himself. He was a giant in black and white ceramite. A clenched white fist adorning his left shoulder mimicking the one that now held onto the transport’s door. His face was solemn, cut from granite and tanned from alien suns. His features were sharp and his hair shorn close to his skull in keeping with astartes tradition, although he allowed himself a short trimmed beard that leant him a rugged appearance; Another tradition, not astartes, but Archean.

“Come down and join your brothers Caligus. There is nothing to see up there, only death. We saw enough of that back at the Ichean Plateau when we broke the hive’s back and I am sure that is all this world holds for us now.”

“This world,” Caligus said, “is our home. All of ours. I merely wished to see what our failure has wrought upon it.”

“There is no failure in duty Brother. You know as well as I do that there is nothing we could have done to prevent this. We were half the galaxy away embattled with the forces of the arch-enemy. A task given to us by Agamon, and to him and the fourth by Alexandros himself. So calm yourself brother and join us to focus on the task ahead instead of the tragedies of the past.”

After a moment more of reflection Caligus consented and pulled the hatch closed above him before returning to his seat within the Rhino.

“You are right, as always Nilus,” he sighed, “I merely lament that we were not here to defend her as the Praetorians were. They had the honor of being able to bleed for every inch of ground given to the xenos, an honor I crave.”

Brother-Sergeant Nilus rested his hand on Caligus’ pauldron. “Be sanguine Brother, for without us the mighty Praetorians would not still have breath to speak of such honor” he said with a smile.

The sergeants’ features were as warm and kind as an Astrates’ can be. He had the appearance of a brawler, square jaw, plain features and enough broken and reset bones to prove it. It spoke great lengths of his lineage, for he was not from one of the noble houses of Archea. No, most likely a commoner, perhaps even one of the indentured servants who work the fields. Caligus had often wondered about it but thought better of it then to inquire. Nilus was the first of his lineage to become a Son of Dorn and that honor alone was enough to see his house rise in status. Perhaps one day it could rise above Caligus’ own or even rival that of the Alexandros’, if any of their houses survive this that is. He was young by their standards, merely eighty five years of age. Not even old enough for his first service stud, an honor many of the men under his command including Caligus had already earned. Once you became a Son however, age and lineage count for nothing amongst the chain of command. Nilus was destined for great things and would one day be sung about in the chapter’s epics amongst those such as Achillus and their own captain Agamon.

The sergeant leaned back into his seat, “Do not forget our role. There will be plenty of room on the honor rolls for the fourth company, for it is us who broke the swarm and relieved our erstwhile brothers.”

“Aye, and now it is us who gets the honor of mopping up and retrieving those who thought more of their lineages then their own kin,” Galus chimed in as he cleaned the components of his heavy bolter. His massive frame and sarcastic personality sometimes made it easy to forget his keen intellect and battle prowess. Rumor has it that he passed over the opportunity of Sergeant of to Nilus, for he preferred to merely deal death rather than direct its course.

“There is honor in all duty” Nilus responded sharply. With a warmer note in his voice he added, “Now let us rest in silence before we reach the village. I have had enough of this pessimism; we must be focused and ready. Who knows what awaits us.”

There was knowledge in Nilus’ words and Caligus restrained sharing any more of his thoughts. The rest of the journey was spent in silence, although not an awkward one. There was no tension between them despite any sharp tongued jabs or glib remarks. They trusted each other completely and each would lay his life on the line to protect one of their brothers, a fact too keenly felt within recent days. Only seven of them remained, seven of the original ten who had made planet fall only one month ago.

Brother Tylian had fallen to one of the xenos’ burrowing organisms they used as ammunition within moments of stepping out of the drop pod. A hero who had slain countless heretics and demons, and thirteen traitor astartes single handedly, fell to a lucky shot by a mewling creature unable to think on its own.

Brother Cereus fell to a creature born aloft on leathery wings that towered over any of them. He killed two of their number before the third impaled him upon its sickle like talons, tearing him in two. He was quickly avenged, a stream of heavy bolter fire blasting it apart before Galus spit on its corpse. Oh how they all wished that the saliva would further desecrate it, burning through its chitin, however due to a defect within their progenitor’s gene-seed it was not to be.

Brother Hector was the last to fall. In his service to the Emperor he had killed numberless heretics, dozens of the blue skinned Tau, and an Ork Warboss. An Ork Warboss! And he fell to a swarm of bladed creatures that pulled him down through sheer numbers. When the battle was over, a mere hour later, they pulled his body out from under the mountain of xenos that covered him to find only scraps. There wasn’t enough of him left to be recognizable as astartes, let alone as Hector. Worst of all his gene-seed was destroyed, burnt through by the Tyranids acidic blood. This hurt Caligus most of all for Hector was of a shared lineage, a distant cousin, and now his legacy was at an end.

All that remained of second squad was Caligus, Galus, Nilus, Birion a humorless but reliable brother, Ferus, who favored his gladius more than his bolter, Odeipus the eldest of them being a full two hundred and thirty years of age, and Lucius, their newest recruit. Another also traveled with them, not of second squad, but well known to all of them. Apolian, an apothecary from the chapter keep. While he was well liked by his brothers the chapter’s apothecaries were seen as a mysterious bunch, locked away in their sequestered wing of the fortress monastery working to unlock the secrets of mortality that had killed the first Alexandros so many millennia ago. His presence was also an ill omen for their mission. Apparently some thought the man they were on their way to find may not have had the strength to live.

“We have arrived.”

The words cut across Caligus’ thoughts snapping him back to the present. He hadn’t realized how deeply he had been lost in the past. Without even thinking he had already secured his helmet and retrieved his bolter, an instinct drilled into him over years of training. With a whine of motors and a final crash of ceramite on stone the back door of the Rhino swung open. Nilus led the way, as he always did, his power fist flexing, testing the motors and preparing the weapon for action if needed. The rest of the squad filed out behind him, bolters swinging left and right, covering any possible route of attack. Once it was clear the astartes relaxed slightly and gathered around their sergeant.

“Not a warm welcome. This village looks deserted,” Birion muttered.

It was true. Half the buildings were razed to their foundations and the other half were gutted shells. Blood, both human and xenos covered the streets, though strangely enough there were no bodies to be found. The marble of statues lay cracked across the pavement, all resemblance to the patrons they once depicted gone. The crop fields just outside the village smoldered, sending embers drifting into the air and covering everything in a thin layer of smoke. It was off putting, as if the war had just been here recently, instead of weeks ago.

“Be wary Brothers, it appears the xenos are not as far gone as we had hoped. They could be lurking anywhere,” Nilus said as he surveyed the village and consulted to map given to him in his HUD.

“We will split into teams of two and cover as much ground as we can. Once the village has been searched and secured we will rendezvous at the town square. Let us see if we can find this Praetorian we have come all this way for, this Brother Varro.”

[tagsta]

amazing story :)

[nurgling6688]

When the bug bites you sometimes you just have to go with it. Looks like this two part story is going to be more like 4 or 5. Enjoy

V

isibility was low, which was never a good thing when searching a town building by building. The smoke from the fields not only hung over the streets and alleys but found their way inside through windows and gaping holes. Strange growths clung to walls and pushed their way up through floor boards lending everything a distinctly alien appearance. Ferus nudged one with his boot prompting it to release a small cloud of spores.

“Disgusting” he muttered.

Caligus stopped at the next doorway and looked back over his shoulder, “Leave it be Brother, we shall have plenty of time to come back later and cleanse this place once we start rebuilding.”

“Rebuilding?” Ferus questioned, “This place is a ruin. Our entire world is either a charnel house or a xenos jungle. The Ichean Plateau will bear those craters for ages and the Agian sea is barely more than a puddle. How will our lineages make a living? Fishing for worms? “

“My lineage does not fish. They are politicians.”

“They were politicians Caligus. What is there for them to govern anymore? No, this world is done brother.”

“Do not speak such things” Caligus said rounding on him, “That is defeat. We are astartes, we are Sons of Dorn! We know no defeat. Whose bodies lay so thick across the ground that they act as a carpet? It is not ours. We broke their backs, we took back out world. We can, we will rebuild it.”

Ferus threw his arms up in a gesture of apology, “I meant no offense brother. You are correct, that was defeatism talking, I am better than that. Apologies.”

“I am sorry” Caligus sighed, “It is just all of this death, it is getting to me. I do not even know if my family’s villa still stands or not. I could be the last Caeus. Caligus Caeus, the last of his line.”

Ferus walked over towards the doorway, carefully avoiding any more spore nests, “Do not think such thoughts brother. Your humors are off today, as are all of ours. If only we had Galus here to lighten the mood with his world class wit.”

Caligus chuckled, “If only we were so lucky. Let us continue and find the Praetorian as quickly as possible. The sooner we do that the sooner we can return to the World Peak Mountains and breathe some fresh air, at least the xenos did not gain a strong foot hold there.”

Ferus nodded in agreement and unstrapped his bolter, “Onward then, to the next glorious sight.”

The pair cleared the next several rooms without incident. One covering the other as they swept in through the doorway, left, right, up, down, clear. Each room held the same sights as the last, alien flora, debris, blood, but still no bodies. It appeared as though the entire town had been butchered and their carcasses hidden, or eaten he thought. Caligus had seen the Ripper swarms in action, devouring whole swathes of biomass in mere moments. He knew it would not be beyond them to clear away any physical evidence of the town’s inhabitants. Something didn’t sit right though, too much biomass had been left behind. No, the bodies were somewhere, he was sure of that.

As they neared the next building Ferus took point. It appeared to be the town’s libriaium, although a good quarter of it was nothing more than rubble. The doors laid off their hinges, sprawled across the ground leaving the interior open, yet all inside was swathed in darkness. The flickering light from nearby fires cast stark shadows through the doorframe. As they approached Caligus caught sight of Nilus and Lucius approaching a nearby building, apparently having about as much luck as they. He gave a curt nod before continuing on towards the looming structure.

“Well, let us have a look shall we” Ferus said as he reached the summit of the stairs.

The two of them entered this building the same as every other, left, right, up down, left, right, up down, left, there! In the center of one of the annexes, in an ugly heap on the floor, was a body.

“Are they alive?” asked Ferus, approaching cautiously, his gladius drawn.

“I am not picking up any kind of life signs” Caligus replied, kneeling down next to the body.

“Be careful, it could be a trap”

“I am aware, preparing to flip the body, one, two, three.”

Nothing happened. The man was dead, no grenades tied to him, no alarm siren wailing.

“Well that was anticli-“ Ferus’ words were cut short as a shape seemed to materialize out of thin air behind him, a sickled limb spearing him through the chest.

“Blood of the Throne!” Caligus exclaimed taking careful aim with his boltgun.

He pulled the trigger but the beast appeared to be gone already, the shots slamming into the wall where it once stood. A flash of movement to his right and it came charging at him. The impact buckled his armor on the side and he swore he felt several ribs break. Barely managing to stay on his feet he jabbed out with his right elbow feeling it hit something organic with a wet crack. The beast cried out in pain and slashed downward with one of its sickle limbs, luckily deflecting off of the round surface of his shoulder guard. Before he could compose himself further it back handed him effortlessly across the room, sending him bouncing across the floor like a small stone before crashing into a wall full of books.

Caligus was dimly aware of a booming sound as he pushed himself to his feet. It hurt to breathe and one of his eye lenses was malfunctioning but he could fight. Ferus was still alive and trying to catch the beast with his bolter fire. He was propping himself up with one arm, blood flowing freely from his chest despite his astartes physiology. The beast was too fast, dodging the shots before they found their mark. Caligus went to add his own bolter to the fire and found it missing. It had been knocked free during the fight and now laid across the room and out of his reach. Quickly he unsheathed his gladius and sprinted towards the creature. It saw him coming and shifted its weight just as he speared out with the blade evading it. Again and again the beast seemed to flow around the astartes’ strikes, its speed too much for him to keep up with. Eventually tiring of the game it knocked the blade from his grasp and pinned him in place with its massive claws.

This was the first chance Caligus had at seeing the creature still, if only for a second. It stood fully twice the height of an astartes, even hunched over. Its mouth was full of questing tentacles dripping a corrosive slime and its body was covered in chitinous scales that looked hard as diamond. Maybe some of the bolter rounds had hit it he thought. Two of its limbs ended in giant sickles while the other two were massive claws that held the marine immobile as he struggled. Worst of all were its eyes. It wasn’t some dumb beast acting on instinct; its eyes spoke volumes of cold, calculating intelligence. It had planned this; it had set a trap for them. Caligus knew what this creature was, a Lictor.

The trance was broken as a bolter round found its mark and blew a chunk out of its side. The lictor screamed in pain and tossed Caligus aside like a rag doll, focused entirely on the source of its pain. Ferus had found his gladius and now clutched it in his other hand, standing unsteadily in a pool of his own blood. The creature tore through the space between them, dodging every explosive round coming its way. In full health Ferus may have stood a chance, but in his weakened state he knew he didn’t. He was merely buying Caligus some time. The first few blows from the lictor were blocked by his blade, deflecting them away in a shower of sparks, but it was only a matter of time and one of it sickle limbs finally found its way inside Ferus’ guard.

First his right arm was severed at the elbow, then a punching wound through the chest. Ferus staggered back feebly before the lictor caught him within its claws. It lifted him off the floor like some profane offering before bisecting him at the waist with a final blow. His innards sloshed out onto the floor and still Ferus weakly struggled, slamming his fists into the thing’s arms. Caligus saw all of this within a heartbeat, for that’s all it took. Quickly searching for one of his weapons he made a dash for his boltgun. The lictor spun around tossing what remained of the astartes to the ground and began to bound across the room towards him. He wasn’t going to make it in time, Ferus sacrificed himself for nothing.

A shadow suddenly detached from the doorway and jumped at the beast. It landed on its back plunging a blade into it repeatedly. The lictor cried out in pain, a horrible ear shattering sound and began to try and claw the thing off its back. Still the blade rose and fell drawing foul xenos ichor with it. Seeing no other way of dislodging the attacker it slammed its back into the wall. Whatever it was would surely have died from the impact but it had already dismounted and landed several feet away. By this time Caligus had retrieved his bolter and took aim, unloading the clip into the beast. The wall around started to disintegrate from the rounds, several bouncing off of the lictors chitin plates. Realizing it had lost the advantage it fled into the shadows with a shriek, leaving a trail of blood behind it.

“It’s wounded, but it will return soon.”

Caligus turned towards the shadow that had saved him. It was a man, no an astartes, but without his war plate. He wore simple clothes most likely taken from the dead and carried a gladius, the blade

he had used. His hair was ragged and unkempt, as well as his beard. Neither looked as though he normally kept them that length, but rather the effects of being without such luxuries as personal hygiene for several months. On his left shoulder was tattooed a white fist clenched against a black circle. On his right he bore a roman numeral four and below that a crux terminatus. Scars, new and old covered much of his body and two metallic service studs protruded from above his right eyebrow.

Out of breath and panting Caligus unclasped his helmet, “Brother Varro I presume?”