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Clever Girl... - Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge

Greyall

By Greyall
in + HALL OF HONOUR +

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Greyall Venerable Brother

Greyall

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Oh, man, it turned out pretty nice. Glad you like it, mate.

 

And, like Lokkorex mentioned, such an awesome name. For an awesome kid.

 

 

PS: Again, guys, thank you very much for not giving up on this thread. I didn't, either, promise. I'm just in the middle of some Warcraft drawings (and playing). I'd never quit 40K. Or B&C =p

Chapter Master Onyxius Veteran

Chapter Master Onyxius

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Visitor for you, Lady Canoness, a Miss Godwyn

 

http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/060/0/c/inquisitor_godwyn___ordo_xenos_by_greyall-d4rdhbq.jpg

 

Girls with big guns, how very Freudian...

 

Anyway, Canoness gave me some pretty nice guidelines for the good Inquisitor. She's Ordo Xenos, has a bionic arm...

 

and carries a larger-than-life gun. Initially, I was thinking of taking the more traditional lean, elaborate gun. But then I noticed she doesn't share the baroque inquisitorial sense of style, so I thought:

 

Desert Eagle!

 

Then I thought:

 

Giant Desert Eagle!

 

And slept like a baby that night.

 

Riddle coming in a few moments.

 

 

Man that looks like my girlfriend!

Chapter Master Onyxius Veteran

Chapter Master Onyxius

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^ You do make sure to remember about her birthday, right...?

 

I keep coming back to this thread, admiring the drawings, and all your characters, Greyall, are for me just as much a part of Wh40K background as the official ones.

 

 

Of course I remember her birthday, it would be shameful not to remember it, besides I would be damned by the God Emperor for all eternity if I do forget.

Besides, she is like the Inquisition and that is why I love this drawing.

Psyberius Daemonbane Veteran

Psyberius Daemonbane

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I have to say this first... Your work is Freakin' AMAZING! Second of all, I've taken liberty of using your lineart for my student design work, which you can see on the front page of Endeloth.yolasite.com. Just ask if you want it taken down and I have given you credit for the lineart. I would have posted it here on the B&C, but for some reason the upload image isn't working for me... Anyway, I hope you all like and since this is my FIRST photoshop lineart rendering, C&C would be nice. Thanks!
Psyberius Daemonbane Veteran

Psyberius Daemonbane

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Thanks Chapter Master Onyxius, I hope to be doing more for my portfolio. But I am pretty good with a pen as well, if I do say so myself. Maybe I'll post my own art on here sometime, once this damn uploading problem is solved...
Greyall Venerable Brother

Greyall

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Not a problem, Psyberius. Thanks, in fact, for making use of my drawings. Actually, thanks a lot for doing such a great job with them.

 

And now, here's a story a friend of mine told me:

 

 

Thramen leapt over the barricade of jagged metal and barbed wire with no effort, slamming against on a squad of cultists who were trying to fall back with their lascannon. He felt the heretics' bodies collapsing as he landed, but by then the Imperial Fists Captain was already turning back to roar the name of Dorn, most loyal of the Emperor's sons. A few meters from him, Kleimmach burst through the mass of metal and bodies his Captain had just crossed effortlessly. Not even pausing to shake himself off the barbed wire still clinging to his armour, the huge Marine started throwing cultists left and right - none of them in one piece - with his Thunder Hammer. Try as he might, Thramen couldn't hold back a smile of pride and triumph for his men's valour.

 

His expression did change, though, as a monster that seemed made of the same dark metal of the barricade charged him, axe in hand. The yellow-clad Veteran dodged the vertical slash and delivered a devastating gut-punch. Though Power Armour could withstand a frighteningly range and variety of attacks, the wearer would still feel a punch from another armoured Astartes. Stronger Marines were even able to crack Power Armour with their punches. But Thramen sported the only way a non-psyker human could penetrate a Marine's Armour with his hand - a Power Fist. His blow pulverized the Traitor Marine's plating and, when the Imperial Captain withdrew his hand, it held the Black Legionnaire's insides. The heretic fell to the ground to spend his last living seconds gasping on his own blood.

 

Thramen fired his bolter at the hip, killing another Black Legion traitor and countless more cultists. His men voxed similar success against the enemy and, thank the Emperor, he had lost few of his men today, though each a terrible loss to the Imperium. He was about to deliver new orders when a glow on the balcony of the occupied Imperial Palace caught his eye. He fired and hit a Chaos Marine in the abdomen but the Havoc at his side - the true source of the bluish glow - was already releasing the trigger of the Plasma Cannon. Marcius Thramen, 500 glorious years in the service of the Emperor of Mankind and the Imperium, didn't even have time to avert his gaze from the blinding plasma blast that struck the imperial Rhino only a few meters from him.

 

He was dead for a few seconds, then blind when he finally felt the air again...the heated air burning the exposed organs on his left side. Cauterizing the stump that remained of his left arm. Making the skin of his face hiss and wrinkle. Thrammen opened his eyes after a few seconds and saw only charred defeat where only moments before a glorious charge was taking place. He couldn’t move, his legs having been almost fused with and inside the armour, and his one good arm had no weapon to grasp. The Captain allowed himself a moment of despair born of frustration. He let his head fall back…and saw reinforcements coming through the dense smoke. With the sound of flaking, cooked flesh being moved, Thrammen tilted himself to lie on his chest. The pain increased, but now he could see the newcomers right-side up. Usually, that wouldn’t have posed a problem, but his nerves had clearly been affected by the blast, which meant he couldn’t make out more than the unmistakable shapes of Power Armours approaching.

 

They were on fire, plasma-blue flames still burning on their armours. How noble his men were, to walk with such poise in the face of a terrible blow. The Captain looked to the side and saw that a number of Chaos Marines had come from the palace, intent on capitalizing on finishing whatever Imperial Fists had survived the Plasma barrage, but they clearly hadn’t anticipated such even terms. Imperial Guard traitors, always following their Marine Masters like pack hounds, now tried to fall back in face of certain death, but found only blades and roars of threat waiting for them. By the time the first loyalist came out of the black smoke, he was being charged by a dozen madmen. The grey-armoured Marine dispatched them with one sweeping strike of the bones on his bolter.

 

http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/164/f/2/infernal_guard_by_greyall-d53cncr.jpg

 

Thrammen cursed the universe itself for robbing him of his sanity in his final moments. Was he seeing dead companions now? He closed his eyes and recited the Oath of Fervour that moments ago had hanged from his shoulder. His eyes opened to the Black Fist of Dorn…on a stormgrey background…The grey-clad marines were almost on top of him, now, scything and burning through the Chaos forces with little effort. Bolter rounds smashed through their armour, leaving burning holes that gave no pause to the revenants. A shadow fell over a distraught Thrammen…the leading ghost was looking at him.

 

His armour was damaged beyond the point of function, severed cables hanging and holes everywhere, the gravest of them wider than the Marine’s head. And every single one of these wounds (if they could be called so) burned with blue flames, their movement almost eldritch. All over his Power Armour, there were bones, addind to the three riveted to his bolter. Thrammen didn’t know how, but he knew this…brother...to have been a flesh-and-bone son of the Emperor like him, once. The many lenses of his bionic optics and his bolter and power sword combination suggested a Devastator Sergeant. Yet this knowledge brought no end to Thrammen’s anguish. The seasoned Captain felt no fear, but he couldn’t stop staring at the tormented soul standing guard over him as if…as if being there for the Imperial Fist’s final breath was the single most important thing to do in the midst of the raging battle. Though he had taken his death for granted long before, Thrammen’s heart sank…how was the revenant conveying these thoughts?

The Imperial Fist felt life leaving his ruined body and, as he let his head fall to the ground, his eyes fixed on the real eyes of the wraith…those of the skull fixed to his girdle.

 

Marcius Thrammen died knowing fear.

 

 

Infernal Guard, a sort of Legion of the Dead - but with blue fire and grey-clad (which mean they're cooler) -, a creation of Chapter Master Onyxius. I guess this means I'm back in business, but do give me a while to finish a personal 40K drawing and I'll be back to contacting you guys for requests.

 

Hope you like Flamey up there. Cheers, mateys.

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