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Clever Girl... - Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge


Greyall

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Greyall, the only reason I tune in to the B&C recently is for more updates on your work, I would make more comments and posts (and finish my darn psychics 101 tactica) if I had but more time, though I should be posting a model in the near future to the Hall of honour...

 

Keep it up! It makes whatever day the post appears on! ;)

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http://th08.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/006/b/6/xavier_kain___grand_master_of_the_bloodwing_by_greyall-d4lhj0y.jpg

 

The Daemonette tried to run, but a vice clamped around her claw - an irony that Asoron didn't fail to notice - holding her in place. Turning to face her attacker in desperation, the lithe daemon found herself pierced by a gigantic lighting claw, so large only three of the four blades fit within her frame.

 

A flick of a wrist and the Daemonette was severed from the collarbone up, her beautifully grotesque face still showing the shock that marked her return to the Warp.

 

This was a grim defeat. Asoron had fought Astartes before, of course, and even lost battles, but this was an annihilation, his forces had been completely wiped out. He felt his hearts racing, the sensation filling him with an acrid pleasure. The last time he'd known such a feeling of dread, a Primarch was advancing on him, his eyes those of a prime beast challenged by runts and unexpectedly wounded. He'd fallen upon his lesser competitors like a lion among hounds, tearing into them until only Asoron was left. By the fickle will of the gods did the Lion sense something deeper inside the fortress and raced to confront it.

 

But the look of hate Lion El'Jonson threw at Asoron while he moved away was a killing blow in itself.

 

Yet a new master had accepted the Fallen Angel's service, a master who was ever-watching and proud of Asoron's service. Yes...Slaanesh had given him a new existence. And Asoron had spent much of it killing the Corpse-God's angels. Every once in a while, though, he revived the look on the Lion's eyes in his mind, the memory enough to jolt his hearts.

 

The bone-and-black Terminator slowly strode towards Asoron, his iconography catching the light of a burning Defiler. The Fallen narrowed his eyes.

 

"Unforgiven", Asoron hissed, his lashing tongue lending to the contempt with which he spoke the word. There was something different about this one, though. "But a lesser breed, I see. You lack a wing, little ange-"

 

"Ours is not the long soar of the questing seraph

But the hovering watch of the vigilant angel

And the stooping wrath of the righteous host."

 

The Astartes' voice was smooth and almost young, but Asoron sensed power behind the façade.

 

"Will you lecture me to death, is it, Guilt-Ridden?", Asoron asked, his grin barely masking his irritation.

 

"You will not be awarded the pleasure of vengeance, Fallen. I will deal with you as I did with your cultists and daemon-whores. No Interrogator, blessed be their service, shall waste his time with you."

 

Asoron wanted to answer, but no words left his dry mouth, such as no structured though left his mind. He was expecting the pageantry that came with every Unforgiven hunt, the hatred and importance they directed at him...for a servant of Slaanesh, being confronted with indifference was a knife wound.

 

The Lion's eyes appeared in his mind, still burning with rage and betrayal, but there was something more in them this time. A sense of righteousness, of justice having been made...of...relief for another traitor slain...?

 

Asoron, a black-clad and fucsia monstrosity taller than a Terminator, the slayer and torturer of thousands, roared, a roar so rasp and devoid of power that it resembled a desperate scream, so weak the Fallen Angel still perceived what the charging Astartes spoke, his words the last Asoron would ever hear.

 

"I've come merely to clean the filth."

 

---

 

Shamblin85 has been one hell of a matey, performing some great colouring on my drawings. This is Xavier Kain, a count-as Belial for his DIY Deathwing, named Bloodwing.

 

I can't thank Shamblin enough, to have someone devoting his time to my artwork is just awesome, it's really a dream come true, since I've always wanted to see them in colour.

 

Here's to you, mate. Hope you like it. Thanks a bunch, and stick around. Cheers.

 

Kain was based on the Lufgt Huron miniature, a great piece of resin sculpt until you have to do TWO of those damnedawesome claws. Really, in a super amusing character to draw, the Lightning claws were a real nightmare. The rest was pretty easy, I wanted this guy to really be an Unforgiven in all their glory, with scrolls, rivets, lanterns, the whole package. Plus I added a few stained glass patterns I found on the DA Codex (which has some amazing artwork, by the way).

 

Asterion Moloc next. I've been doing some research in Greek art and wargear and if I can pull it off, the Lord of Bullsh*t will be a beast.

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No no, mate, I said that partly because I was going out for dinner (force of habit) and because Moloc might take a while to finish since I have some university stuff to clear on January. Well, actually, I wish it was going to take a while, but knowing myself, it should be ready next weekend or something. I'll be staying a clever girl for as long as I can. Thanks a bunch, Sampson, you guys are the best critics I could hope for.

 

By the way, I noticed the announcement of the Lord of the Minotaurs didn't get a great reception, but trust me when I say he'll kick a most generous amount of ass. He'll be a monster - as literally as possible. I just hope FW doesn't release some earth-shattering model of the grumpy guy before I finish my version, it's hard to get a chance to 'break ground'.

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EXCELLENT!!!!

 

This is a great piece! I'll put him up there with the Night Lord Raptor!!! He's got everything: bulk, menace, confidence, anger, self-rightousness, nasty weapons... I can carry on but no need - this is really this is truly great! And the story too! Great how you did the single wing motif on the belt - subtle but very noticeable!

 

The only comment would be the Angel on the top. I'd rather the sword was not extended... I understand you probably wanted to balance out visually the outstretched wing but I still am so-so about it. It's a small point though to what is a hugely great piece! Congrats.

 

I'm also thrilled with your next project. As FW will be producing a Minotaurs Chaplain (Eknomi?) which I have a particular interest in, I think your timing with Moloc could not be better.

 

As regards Greek, don't hesitate to PM me if I can be of any assistance :P

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Thanks, Semper.

 

Now that you mention Greek, I think a good sentence somewhere in his shield might look good.

 

Can you confirm that this reads "Taker of the Lost" (I find it a catchy title for a minotaur)?

 

αποδέκτης του χαμένου

 

Edit: Actually, "Claimer of the Lost" might be even better. What do you guys think?

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Well, it is correct on a word for word translation but it reads more like "Receiver of a lost item" kind of... A bit like what the airport people would say to describe a lost piece of luggage! :)

 

Last time I used Greek briefly in the forum I had (rightly) the mods on my back, so I'll PM you a couple of suggestions. :(

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"BROTHER! Is this your luggage? You left it on the Thunderhawk just before the initial assault. I figured you would need it."

 

"Uh, thank you Lord Moloc! It has all of the scrolls I had to deliver to the Tech Priests in it! Throne, if I had forgotten these, it would have been my genetically-enhanced ass! "

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Not an Interrogator Chaplain indeed. That guy is surely awesome enough to have a seat of the Inner Circle! Amazing! I love the story as well, even though IIRC the Angels always capture Fallen . But that's a non-important nitpick. Beautiful work! :lol:
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http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/012/f/1/asterion_moloc___lord_of_the_minotaurs_by_greyall-d4m3c53.jpg

 

His knee connected to the ground just as the words left his mouth.

 

"Lord Dante"

 

He gazed up with a smile on his face. A true smile, a rare commodity in this era of constant strife for Humanity. He saw an even rarer thing: a true hero of the Imperium, not simply a warrior of skill, not just a demagogue. A hero, caring for its peoples. And he was bidding him to rise.

 

"I will have no kneeling between men, Matias Rainer", Dante said, his frozen mask of gold somehow showing the genuine warmth of his rasp voice.

 

Matias Rainer rose, made with a short bow, noting the amused half-smiles of Dante's Sanguinary Guard, and took his place beside his master, Lord Inquisitor Seros. The aged man - yet still very much capable of facing any horror the galaxy threw at him - had a less harsh look in eyes as he followed Rainer's movement, the closest he could come to smiling after a lifetime of waking nightmares. He turned to the Lord of the Blood Angels.

 

"Young Matias is naturally thrilled to stand before you, Lord Dante. Being a crusader, it is only natural for him to acknowledge a supreme warrior, but know that every single one of us in this room is honoured to be working alongside the Blood Angels."

 

Not a few eyes turned to General Ariak, the Imperial Guard's Commander for this operation, and he made no effort to hide his reservations about Seros' premise. It was no secret that the Blood Angels were regarded with suspicion by many Imperial Commanders, the word having spread that the vermillion Marines were prone to breaking ranks and going berserk at the height of engagements.

 

But Inquisitor Seros valued loyalty above all, and the Blood Angels had a massive measure of self-control, their condition keeping them in a state of constante awareness that made them lucid and adhering to the Emperor's teachings like few other Chapters without descending into fanaticism.

 

Plus, Matias Rainer recalled with further certainty, the Lords of Baal had a score to settle with Abaddon. They would be sweating blood, if need be, to crush the Black Legion's attack on Mahotei-28.

 

As for the other Chapter they had contacted, Matias could only hope.

 

Jintas Carol, the foremost psyker in Inquisitor Seros' employ, entered the room, a slightly haunted look on her face, as if she'd exerted her mind too much.

 

"My Lords", her voice conveyed the same exhaustion, "The Minotaurs are here."

 

"Show them in, Jintas", Inquisitor Seros asked more than ordered. He'd surely noticed the look on the psyker's face.

 

Jintas bowed and, with an extended hand, bid the Space Marines inside the War Room of the Endless Task.

 

Matias Rainer would later remember the tension in those few seconds of thunderbolt-sounding steps on the ship's floor that preceded the Minotaurs' entrance. Only General Ariak seemed almost happy to be receiving them.

 

The first Terminator entered the room, his brazen and red armour sporting scarce but beautiful decoration. He took his place at the immediate right of the entrance. The other Minotaurs, all of them clad in Terminator armour, entered and formed a corridor to allow their leader in.

 

A...very wide...corridor, Rainer noticed.

 

Then he understood why.

 

Asterion Moloc entered the room, and all eyes save those of Dante and Seros widened in shock.

 

The Maze Lord was taller than any Terminator Matias had ever seen - even without the majestic crest on top of his armour - and, it seemed, almost square, his shoulder pauldrons like murals showing battle-scenes, as did much of his unbelievably ornate armour.

 

He sported an enormous shield almost the size of a man, and a grand polearm of black and gold, a screaming eagle concealing something resembling a lasweapon.

 

But there was something...unsettling about Moloc's form, though Matias couldn't quite place what it was...until he looked at the Chapter Master's feet. They were cloven and the greaves were slightly tilted, making it seem as if Moloc was walking on hooves. It all made sense.

 

The Lord of Minotaurs' legs were flexed, and his walk was ponderous and inhuman.

 

The helmet was the key. Where a more ornate helm would make sense, Moloc donned a traditional Terminator helmet, but painted in the colours of the Chapter's symbol. Asterion Moloc was trying to embody the Minotaur of old legend, the beast that stalked the Maze.

 

Matias looked now to the exquisite polearm, in which a phrase had been carved in old Greko. It read "Punisher of the Unseen", but before Rainer could muse on its significance, Moloc began to speak.

 

"Greetings", he simply said, the word devoid of true meaning and laced with threat. Even Asterion Moloc's voice was monstrous.

 

A menial walked to the Chapter Master to relieve him of his arms, but one of the Terminators snorted, the sound coming off a beast's growl from inside a cavern, and the servant returned to his place with his head close to his knees. Moloc didn't seem to notice, but he resumed speaking once the incident was over.

 

"My Chapter took a small detour on our way here, you'll understand if the Emperor's Work takes precedence."

 

"This is an operation of the highest importance, Lord Moloc", Seros interjected. "The smallest delay might prove fat..."

 

"When I speak of the Emperor's Work, and although I do not wield a pen, I expect it to be clear that ours is a sanctioned path, Inquisitor", there was a dangerous pause before the last word, which, coupled with the deafening volume with which Moloc spoke, brought the room into silence.

 

The Maze Lord reached for the golden chain at his waist and wrenched free one of the heads there, tossing it onto the holo-table.

 

"A most fruitful trip", the Minotaur growled.

 

"Matias?", Inquisitor Seros asked, but the Cruzader was already pointing his Archive-log at the severed Black Legion head. The result came quickly...but Matias Rainer had trouble speaking.

 

"Master", he finally said, turning to Seros. "It is...it's Abrajam Howlon, Lord, Taskmaster to the Despoiler."

 

Matias knew that, inside his helmet, Asterion Moloc was smiling...and that was even more unsettling.

----

 

I'm sorry, Russ, but this is now my new Baby. All hail!

 

A BIG thanks to Captain Semper for helping me with the Greek. I chose to put it on the Custodes glaive. It makes sense for the blade to have belonged to Amon Tauromachian, due to phonetics (40K is prone to that), and, since he was a very clever guy - adept at rooting out suspicious things - I thought the title "Punisher of the Unseen" made sense.

 

Thanks a bunch once again, mate.

 

Hope you guys like it. It was hellishly fun to draw.

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