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Crimson Tears, Deathwatch and Inq28 Updated - 05/02/23

sockwithaticket

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  • 2 weeks later...
sockwithaticket Veteran

sockwithaticket

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Torvael instinctively hunched closer into the colossal felled column he and Auriel were utilising as cover from the traitors' autocannons. Their fire was more sporadic now, suggesting that the other members of squads Eremiel and Tydrael had also found shelter or were no longer viable targets. With the company’s main advance stalling in the face of streets choked with wreckage and  covered by a plethora of thoroughly dug in heavy weapons, the squads had been despatched on a wide flanking manoeuvre. This area, being so distant from the main fighting, was believed to be unoccupied and so nothing was thought of crossing the open space of the plaza that quickly became a shooting gallery. The incoming fire was far more accurate than they’d come to expect from the renegade militias and Torvael was sure he’d heard one or two grunts of pain over the vox. It would be suicidal to attempt to cross the plaza and deal with this unseen enemy. As durable as power armour could be, it had its limits and crossing the vast square, with minimal cover beyond its outer edges, would subject the marines to such punishment that those limits would be sorely tested. Besides, having not seen the enemy they could not know the numbers they faced or what other weaponry would await them. At the same time, Torvael knew they could not stay behind their makeshift refuges indefinitely. The rest of the company needed them to complete their task so that the advance to the orbital defence complex could continue. Imperial reinforcements were entering the sector, but their ability to assist in quelling the rebellion would be sorely compromised if the planet’s defences were still interconnected and co-ordinated, the feint which had enabled the 5th company to descend to the planet’s surface and hit this crucial target had cost the Navy dearly indeed; such losses or greater could not easily be absorbed a second time.

His ruminations were interrupted by Eremiel bellowing through the vox for the squad to make its way to the opposite corner of the plaza.  Positioned, as they were, at the opposite end to their foe, this was probably the best chance they had at escaping the expanse of cracked, weed-ridden concrete without it being turned into a killing field. Carefully, Torvael rolled on his side to face the corner they were to aim for, rearranged himself into a sprinter’s crouch and fixated on a fallen statue to reach. He saw Auriel do the same ahead of him, but his brother positioned himself so that his power plant stuck out slightly above the column and, before Torvael could shout a warning, was quickly dealt a glancing blow by an autocannon shell, knocking him over, but, thankfully, leaving him otherwise unharmed. Torvael watched his brother scramble back to the safety of the column and resume his crouched position, taking care not to expose even an inch. All the while, more autocannon rounds impacted the area around them and it was several moments until the firers realised they would not receive any more targets.

They waited, crouched, several moments more, long enough for their foe to perhaps lose focus after firing, before Eremiel roared at the assembled marines to move. They rose as one and ran as fast as they were able for the far corner and the side-street entrance that awaited them there, a promise of fresh sanctuary and the opportunity to regroup and reformulate their strategy away from the enemy heavy weapons. Ahead of him, Torvael saw a member of squad Tydrael he did not immediately recognise stumble as an autocannon shell tore up the ground at his feet. Torvael stooped as he ran to proffer his hand to his fallen brother, half dragging him back to his feet and continuing the mad run.  He saw Cecitiel sheltering behind what ruins there were at the street mouth, firing his missile launcher as quickly as he was able, offering what covering fire he could to his retreating squad mates. Eremiel stood counting his brothers into the street, occasionally firing his bolter wildly in the direction of the autocannon fire when a shell came too close.  Dubriel was several metres ahead and starting down the passage to safety, his left army hanging limply at his side, the pauldron in ruination. Torvael kept going, ignoring the shells, vision tunnelling in on the opening between buildings. He passed Cecitiel and Eremiel, falling in behind Auriel. Having barely slowed their pace the pair all but erupted into the main street parallel to the plaza where Tydrael was arranging the two squads. Blessedly, they seemed complete, bar those covering the escape. Viriel was on his feet, leading some of the others to scout a route to flank their tormenters and Tydrael was soon rushing to join them with the rest of his men. Torvael turned back to the mouth of the side street and saw Cecitiel and Eremiel emerge, the former without his missile launcher, holding his helmet in one hand, lens shards embedded in and around his right eye. There was no time to draw breath, though, Eremiel directed them to keep up with squad Tydrael as those brothers slipped through to the next street seeking to flank so widely that they would be able to circle around and come at the foe from behind.

They stalked along the deserted boulevard, passing an endless assortment of civilian buildings made uniform by their state of ruination and the greying from heavy coatings of ash and dust. After a while they came to a crossroads and made the turning that ought to bring them back in line with the plaza. This street was much wider and more open than the previous one, making Torvael uneasy, though the buildings were larger and interconnected, providing the perfect opportunity to leave the street. The sergeants noticed and led their men inside. Through the guts of these empty complexes they advanced quickly, not worrying about being seen; their only company seemed to be the abandoned furniture of civilians. As time wore on Torvael began to wonder how the rest of the company was faring at the barricades, whether their original flanking manoeuvre was even still necessary. As he speculated, he took his gaze from Auriel’s dented power pack and cast it about. With a start he thought he saw a skull with gleaming read eyes leering at him from a distant doorway shrouded in shadow. He thought to sound an alarm, but, before he could muster a word, he was thrown off his feet by a series of small explosions.

As he tried to right himself the previously still air was rent with bolter fire and shouts, the whines and revving of chain blades and punctuated by more small explosions as frag grenades detonated among the squads; ineffectual against their power armour, but destabilising and disorienting nonetheless. The vox net was a veritable cacophony of competing voices. Above them all he heard Eremiel roar his defiance against the new foe, indeed he could see, through the clearing smoke, the sergeant drawing his glowing power sword from its scabbard, illuminating the immediate gloom and serving as a rallying point for the beleaguered Crimson Tears. Torvael was backing towards his sergeant combat blade and bolt pistol ready, his bolter lay strewn somewhere, lost in the initial chaotic blast, when bolter fire strafed his right hand side. The impacts forced him to one knee and he turned to see the skull, gleaming eyes and all, rushing towards him. Only it was not merely a skull, it was attached to a hulking, dark power-armoured form covered in ornate brass-work, dangling chains and skulls and bearing a wicked-looking curved blade. Torvael stood and loosed a couple of rounds at the brute, who turned his shoulder into them and continued his advance at speed, closing the gap and body-checking Torvael, knocking them both to the floor with the impact. With quick reflexes Torvael brought his combat blade up to parry a blow and kicked his assailant away. Both rolled to their feet and faced each other, crouched, blades held in front of them. They sprung, blades clashing once more. Eye to eye Torvael could see the midnight blue armour onto which the skull had been painted and he knew his foe, understood the rebellion that had arisen and the accuracy of the fire that they had taken earlier. The fighters disengaged and the ancient warrior drew a second cruel blade from its sheath before coming again at Torvael with a renewed vigour. The Crimson Tear did his best to parry the blows, using his armoured forearms to deflect as often as his own blade, but the flurry of blows was too great and he was backed against a wall. In desperation he lunged wildly, hoping to force enough space between them that he could escape the wall, but, in so doing, left himself exposed. His opponent took the opportunity to drive one of his blades into the soft connective armour between Torvael’s right arm and torso and was rewarded with a cry of pain, forcing him to the ground and pinning the left arm. With an unhallowed, unearthly shriek of triumph the Night Lord brought his second blade to Torvael’s neck and hissed ‘Bid the rotting corpse hello from his forgotten sons’ through its vox unit. The young Crimson Tear blinked back tears of rage and shame as he prepared to face his fate. It was, however, not his day to die. His assailant was hit in the helmet by a bolt shell and twisted to face the direction it had come from, giving Torvael a side view of the skull for an instant before it was engulfed in plasma energy. The Night Lord toppled over and Torvael struggled upright, to glimpse his saviour.  He only saw Cassiel, one of Tydrael’s squad, keeping two Night Lords, one with a skull motif on his face plate and the other lightning forks, at bay with ferocious swings of his Chainsword. Sparks flew as one blow was deflected by a bolter casing. Cassiel drew back, readying himself to strike again. He was not required to, the Night Lord with the lightning marked helm fell as a bolt detonated at his neck and the other was thrown down with plasma enveloping his chest. From Torvael’s left an ornately armoured Crimson Tear with no squad markings burst into view firing both a plasma and bolt pistol continuously as he went, seeming to hit assailing Night Lords with every squeeze of the trigger. This unexpected intervention spurred on those Crimson Tears that still stood and forced the midnight clad heretics onto the back foot. Torvael ambled towards Cassiel and whichever of his brothers lay prone on the floor and caught a glimpse of Eremiel, two Night Lords at his feet already, drive his power sword through the abdomen of another, spitting insults as he did so. Dubriel was slumped against a pillar, yet found strength to raise his bolter with his good arm and loose rounds at lightning reliefs wherever they appeared. The newcomer continued to push into the shadowy recesses of the complex, plasma bursts illuminating his progress while squads Tydrael and Eremiel, with their enemies dead, dying or driven away consolidated their position to count the cost of the engagement and praise the Emperor for their deliverance.
 

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/5/17/714642_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/5/17/714643_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/5/17/714644_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/5/17/714645_sm-.JPG


 

The Revenant  (Cypher counts-as)

 

Very little is known about this mysterious Crimson Tear, known even to the majority of his brothers only as The Revenant. The sole common knowledge is that he was recovered, quite by chance, from the minor death world of Pyrrgha’s Lament in the Segmentum Pacificus as the 6th and 7th companies pursued and purged a tendril of Hive Fleet Scylla. Noticing the drop pods making planetfall, shortly after a plethora of mycetic spores, he sought them out . His appearance was wild and his armour almost devoid of any markings whatsoever, it would have been understandable for his erstwhile brothers to shoot him on sight, but he convinced them he offered no threat, falling to his knees as soon as he was within sight and allowing himself to be restrained in a drop pod harness until the command figures of the two companies could conduct an interrogation. He was permitted to accompany them freely, but unarmed, as they hunted Tyranids through the jungles of the small planet; presumably answering their enquiries somewhat satisfactorily. Even without weapons he proved himself a valuable asset as a tracker and saving Chaplain Risiel from the claws of a Lictor with nought but a branch spear earned him the prestige and trust to carry a boltgun.  This was but one demonstration of the almost preternatural abilities that his untold years on the death world appeared to have bestowed upon him. Over the course of the campaign it became clear that his instincts and reflexes were honed far beyond those of any in the chapter and his accuracy with ranged weapons was peerless; this despite the fact he could not have fired one for decades, if not centuries.  He returned with the 6th having accumulated numerous battlefield honours and the beginnings of legendary status. He was quickly whisked away to a conclave of the Crimson Tears’ leadership and since then has enjoyed a unique position in the chapter.

He is permitted to attach himself to any strike force he pleases and is not permanently assigned to any company, though he seems to spend a lot of time with the 5th. Indeed, this tendency, along with the ornateness of his armour and armaments and privileged position, have led to some speculation that he is one of the many Captains the 5th has lost during its turbulent history of near destruction and rebirth. Some members of the 7th recall seeing what they thought was the wreckage of a Dark Eldar vessel in one of the many jungles on Pyrrgha’s Lament, the very foe the 5th fought the first time it was nearly exterminated. Given the proclivity of that vile race for taking prisoners, it is not beyond the realms of possibility that The Revenant is indeed who many of the Crimson Tears’ rank believe him to be.

In battle he tends to operate alone, tracking the ebb and flow of the conflict and inserting himself where intervention is most needed.  He wields two exceptionally finely crafted pistols, one bolt and the other plasma, already relics of the chapter’s armoury that he seems to have further improved with tweaks to their design. Always attached to his hip is a markedly plain and ancient sword from the 5th company’s own relic vault, but such is his uncanny accuracy with his pistols that none can ever recall him having needed to draw it from its scabbard.





Argent - thanks.

Riconas - great minds think a-like, eh?

Augustus - Cheers. Yeah, as I've tried to turn him into a Crimson Tears character rather than the Cypher everyone has access to I thought I'd steer away from the established aesthetics of the existing model, using only the armament. Apologies in advance for how the fluff turned out...

MagicMan - thanks a lot. What can I say? Living in the sticks leaves you with quite a bit of time to kill, may as well paint! As for meanness, I think it's the helmet, it really has that look to it and is why it's one of my favourite bits.

NightHunters  - cheers, buddy.

Bio - your wish is my command.

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sockwithaticket Veteran

sockwithaticket

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Cheers, Jol. I start with Vallejo Game Colour Ghosty Grey as it's an almost white that covers black oddly well for something so pale, then I move on to GW Ceramite White, 3 thin layers usually does the trick, and cover that with a few super thin coats of Vallejo Model Colour White. The shading is done either by layering down to pure VGC Stonewall Grey (if that makes sense) or adding a touch of white to Vallejo's Pale Grey wash and splashing that about. Tends to give more or less the same shade effect but the wash is obviously easier to do on things like the winged blood drop and the layering yields a better result on, say, the gap between the knee and thigh plates.

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  • 1 month later...
sockwithaticket Veteran

sockwithaticket

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Well, the new job has been taking up far more time than I'd anticipated and a couple of friends have recently moved to be much closer to where I am resulting in more free time being lost. I post this, however to show that I have not been completely idle. It's not much, but I am still alive and fighting the good fight when I can to try and make my small contribution to the BA's ETL cause:

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/6/21/723313_sm-.JPG


I have been told that over the next few weeks things ought to ease up at work, fingers crossed that's the case as I've not yet failed a painting competition vow and it would be a shame to start now when I only put two figures forward.




Jolemai - Apologies for it being so long after you asked the original question... Yes, I do just thin with water. Thank you, I think the thing is you have to be very patient with white and make sure every layer applied is fully dry before even thinking about applying another. A fresher pot of white than you've described might help, too!

Pearson73 - Thank you very much, glad you enjoyed the writing, too.

Bio - cheers, buddy. Yeah I thought it fitted the whole preternatural marksman thing quite well, making the gun more literally part of him. Plus it leaves a hand free for that sword should it ever be needed.

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  • 2 weeks later...
Riconas Veteran

Riconas

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Haven't been painting or doing anything with my Marines lately (what with starting back up at work, heading to the other side of the state to help set up a legal marijuana grow op, and building a computer for operators of said grow op); viewing this thread again makes me want to start back up. :D

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sockwithaticket Veteran

sockwithaticket

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It's not ETL related, but here's a thing I bashed out in a week. My new job has been placing a lot more demand on my time than it should lately and I've just not felt that much inclination to pick up a brush when I get in. So in order to try and kick-start the desire again I thought I'd have a crack at something that wasn't not-Mephiston and the results are as follows:

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/6/30/725433_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/6/30/725434_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/6/30/725435_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/6/30/725436_sm-.JPG


I'm pleased with the skin, the tabard and the metallics. The cables, I'm undecided. Purple is the colour I've been using for Psychic energy so far and I figured a Daemonhost warranted its usage.Not sure the execution's quite what it could have been and how well it meshes with the green and red, but hey, it served it's main function of re-acquainting me with my brushes and making me want to get back to working on not-Meph.

Brother Tyrax - Thanks, man!

Rastamarine - The honour is all mine brother, thank you for using your first comment on my thread and welcome to the board!

barry_hhh - Cheers. If you go back a few pages (maybe to page 18?) I did a group shot at the start of the year.

Stercus - Thank, you.

Riconas - That sounds like a hell of an undertaking, quite an interesting one at that. It's really flattering of you to say that my work has that effect on you, so thanks!

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  • 4 weeks later...
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Crimson Tears Chief Librarian Samkiel

 

  Prior to the events that led to his appointment as the Crimson Tears’ Chief Librarian, Samkiel was the 5th Company’s Epistolary, a strong leader and skilled swordsman who earned a great many battle honours, yet not possessed of psychic abilities notably superior to those of his contemporaries.  This was to change radically when the 5th company endured its first brush with near-total destruction on an abandoned prison moon near Hydraphur in the Segmentum Pacificus.

  Engaged in the seemingly endless task of attempting to purge the sector of Eldar corsairs, the 5th Company came upon two Eldar vessels believed to have carried out a recent raid on Colcha and pursued them vigorously into some of Segmentum’s sparsest areas whereupon many more vessels, including several larger war ships, materialised. Instantaneously transformed from hunters to prey, the company attempted to reach the relative safety of the nearest Imperial world and its orbital defences, Hydraphur in this case. The fighting retreat was well executed and a handful of the xenos craft were initially crippled or destroyed, but the astartes strike cruiser was eventually overwhelmed before reaching sanctuary and all but immobilised still some distance from Hydraphur. Fortuitously, or so it was thought, the nearby moon of Rathaar IV was near enough to be reached by Thunderhawk and Stormraven so that a proper stand befitting warriors of the Crimson Tears could be made. Not for them would be the inevitable death aboard their strike cruiser in the cold depths of space, firing dwindling numbers of weapons as their more numerous and agile foe toyed with them. No, their boots would be on solid ground, chainswords and bolt pistols in hand, ready to greet the enemy face to face.  Rathar IV previously housed tens of thousands of the Segmentum’s worst criminals in a truly vast prison complex until Eldar raids made maintaining and defending the prison simply too expensive for local officials to bother. The labyrinthine compound, however, was merely abandoned, rather than destroyed and it was there that the 5th company made their stand. Samkiel, like the other command figures of the company, accompanied a selection of the company’s finest warriors to the enormous main yard, hoping to draw the bulk of the xenos force to that one area, while the remnants of the company and its various support elements established firing lanes and choke points on the approach, attempting to ensure as limited exposure as possible.

  Utilising the fullness of his psychic arsenal, Samkiel was the bulwark upon which waves of twisted xenos broke for the battle’s duration. They fled in terror as he tormented them with visions the content of which is likely best not known, fell like marionettes whose strings had been cut as he scoured them with bolts of arcing psychic energy and writhed in agony as he raised the temperature of their very blood to the point of mortality. Many more fell before his force sword as his already considerable skill with the blade was augmented by significantly heightened reflexes and dexterity, striking so quickly that the agile Eldar appeared to be standing almost still and so frequently that their numbers thinned more rapidly than they had time to appreciate.  Some accounts from the few survivors, all of whom were among those fighting directly alongside their revered brother, report experiencing similar augmentation of their fighting abilities while in Samkiel’s vicinity. It is not known whether this was by his design or simply the natural overflow of so much psychic energy being harnessed and expelled. What was certainly of Samkiel’s intent were the force fields he somehow, amidst all the other powers he was simultaneously employing, had the presence of mind to shield his brothers with when particularly dire threats raised their heads.

  The battle’s climax came as the 5th’s numbers had dwindled to but a handful of battle brothers, ammunition completely spent, fighting back to back, hand to hand against the Wych and Hellion cult shock troops that had been sent in to finish them off. With Samkiel demonstrating astonishing psychic stamina, far beyond that which would have ruined even most space marine librarians, to keep fighting at a level beyond superhuman, as well as maintaining their own very considerable combat standards, they were able to keep these deadly foes at bay. Clearly this was much to the frustration of the Dark Eldar, for, after the Wyches were cowed into retreat, the Haemonculii let their vile experiments loose upon the beleaguered Crimson Tears. Unhallowed forms of implausible variety, uniform only in their sickening union of flesh and metal, bristling with all manner of alien weapons, that loped, shambled and scuttled towards their prey. Their very existence was an affront and they fell upon the few remaining astartes with the sort of mindless savagery usually only witnessed in Tyranids or the most abject Chaos cultists.  In the face of this new onslaught it would seem that Samkiel attempted to harness still more psychic energy than he already had and this attempt, rather than finally exhaust him, resulted in realising a new apex of power. He moved more rapidly still so that he was barely visible to the naked eye, and the strength behind his blows became frightening to behold, cleaving in twain with consummate ease the hulking monstrosities that beset his brothers.  His brothers, while not comparably blessed, also fought with renewed vigour and strength, easily matching the abhorrent creatures.

  Terrible carnage was wrought upon the beasts and seeing them fall in the manner that they did, perhaps combined with an appreciation of how heavy a toll the 5th had levied on its near destruction at that point, seemed to give the Eldar pause for thought. When no new waves of attackers fell upon them, the battered survivors withdrew into the complex with all the haste they could muster. A lone Thunderhawk was contained in the prison’s hangar, all that would fit inside a civilian building not designed to accept astartes gunships, and the battered survivors used the lull in the fighting to make for it, sensing salvation. The battle had been kept away from the hangar, and the route was eerily clear of corpses given how much of the rest of the prison complex was carpeted in alien and astartes bodies. Seven battle brothers accompanied Samkiel aboard and the lone ship was able to leave the moon unnoticed. Within a day they had been recovered by an Imperial Navy squadron sent to respond to the strike cruiser’s distress signals. Of the Eldar Raiders there was no sign.

  How he survived to the battle’s halfway mark, let alone to its conclusion, and not just survive, but take an active and dominant role, remains an utter mystery to the entirety of the Chapter’s Librarius, as does Samkiel’s subsequent exhibition of a permanently raised ceiling for his diverse range of abilities. It has perplexed to the extent that the Crimson Tears have even reached out to the Chapters with whom they are on the best terms and have the strongest ties to in order to help understand the phenomenon.  For such a fiercely independent, it could be said isolationist, Chapter, this is an unprecedented step, surely demonstrating the gravity with which they are treating what appears to be a miracle of battle, but could be something else entirely.  In the meantime, while the enquiries conintue, Samkiel continues as a frontline presence in the Crimson Tears’ most significant campaigns, his psychic mastery and now near monstrous capacity for carnage proving invaluable in securing resounding victories

 

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733304_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733299_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733300_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733305_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733302_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733301_sm-.JPG


 

Well, I did it. It took me way longer than it should to complete two models, but here they are and I'm very happy with them. Reinventing special characters really is a lot of fun. I'm a little disappointed not to have contributed more this ETL, but sometimes life gets in the way and you just have to do what you can.

Regarding Samkiel, for those who aren't aware, he is my Mephiston counts-as. If you notice that he's not quite connected to his base that's because he was originally conceived with the old BA codex where Wings of Sanguinius was the primary method of moving Mephiston about. I figured some slight levitation would hint at that.



Here's a picture of Samkiel and The Revenant side by side, as perhaps they once were centuries ago if the rumours of the Revenant's identity are correct, both having undergone irrevocable changes since then:

http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/1/733303_sm-.JPG



Argent - No, not yet! This one is securely bound and serves the Imperium's needs. For now, it is useful.

Augustus - Cheers, buddy. It has been tough of late, simply because grabbing the odd half hour here and there in the evenings is a really unsatisfying way to paint, but I'll take what I can get I suppose. Work is meant to be calming down now so, fingers crossed, my productivity will improve a bit from where it's dropped to. When I consider how much ETL stuff you finished compared to me my jaw literally drops.

Vulkan454 - Thank you very much, man. It's really gratifying that you'd take the time to read the whole thing.

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  • 2 weeks later...
sockwithaticket Veteran

sockwithaticket

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Just a quick one to show what I'm working on post- ETL:
http://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/16/736971_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/16/736972_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/16/736973_sm-.JPGhttp://images.dakkadakka.com/gallery/2015/8/16/736974_sm-.JPG

Argent - cheers, brother. Glad you liked him.

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