Warband Names

[RolandTHTG]

I still need to work on the actual backstory for my band,

but I do the Name:

The Black Hands.

Named for the act of painting their Hands Black to show the pact that they have made with the Warband.

Unfortunately I haven't really thought much more beyond that, like where they come from or what pact they swear.

The band as a whole worships the pantheon, though individual leaders may be dedicated to a certain god, and they often work with Deathguard units.

Unfortunately the only possible Idea I have for a shoulder symbol, is also the Red Corsairs Fist symbol, so even that is up in the air.

[Kol Saresk]

That's okay, we all have to start somewhere. Once upon a time, the people who made GW probably played D&D. Or at least played with the people who did.

[RolandTHTG]

Yea, but I've been collecting the army since 3rd Edition... ;)

[Kol Saresk]

Oh well, then maybe it's like a train, very slow to start with.

[Kristoff]

I still need to work on the actual backstory for my band,

but I do the Name:

The Black Hands.

Named for the act of painting their Hands Black to show the pact that they have made with the Warband.

Unfortunately I haven't really thought much more beyond that, like where they come from or what pact they swear.

The band as a whole worships the pantheon, though individual leaders may be dedicated to a certain god, and they often work with Deathguard units.

Unfortunately the only possible Idea I have for a shoulder symbol, is also the Red Corsairs Fist symbol, so even that is up in the air.

 

Might I suggest the Imperial Fist symbol, as it is a black fist. To make it different, either back drop it on a Chaos eye and/or change the angle so it's pounding down instead of raised up.

 

If you're willing/able to freehand, you could do a triple fist in the Nurgle pattern. OR try a black hand crushing a planet as it forms a fist.

[Kol Saresk]

Here's a new one:

 

Captain Crusnik was once a loyal Space Marine of the Black Dragons Chapter. Like all of his brethren, he was constantly seeking out every front line, attempting to fulfill his oaths to defend his Imperium. But at every war front, his "allies" would either refuse aid or even persecute his warriors, despite whatever peril they might be in, because of the mutations that had plagued his Chapter. This instilled in him and his Marines a streak of bitterness that would one day bear fruit.

 

On the planet Caledonia, an Ork swarm was running rampant through the hives, killing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in their way. Imperial Guardsmen had rallied behind a nearby company of Red Scorpions and were slowly stopping the Greenskin tide. Crusnik's Company happened upon them and eagerly offered their services. Surprisingly, the Imperial Command accepted this offer of aid while the Red Scorpions blatantly threatend the Black Dragons to avoid them on the battlefield. Crusnik and his Battle-Brothers tore into the Orks with the vigor of a hunter who had been caged for too long with. At first, relieved with the lack of supporting Guardsmen, they unleashed their adamantium-tipped claws with reckless abandon, relieved that they did not have to hide their curse. But as the numbers of the horde increased, so did their calls for auxiliary support. A short while later, they realized a disturbing trend: their immediate reinforcements were always a few hours too late to be of any use and their calls for artillery aid always landed at the wrong coordinates, usually in their midst.

 

Sick of the overwhelming feeling of betrayal, Crusnik told Imperial Command that he was resigning from the battlefront. He rounded up his remaining 4 depleted squads of warriors and the Apothecary Amaimon, and set his strike cruiser to leave Caledonia. The Red Scorpions responded by calling them cowards and worthless mutants. As the Furious Blade began to leave the system, they were ambushed by the Red Scorpions. Outnumbered, it was all they could do to escape into the Warp. The resulting damage impaired the use of their Gellar fields. The Librarian Valefor, their Navigator and their Astropaths did the best they could to fend off the daemons. Only Valefor would survive, but it was only a matter of time before the fatal wounds to his psyche caught up with him.

 

When they translated back into realspace, they were left with a severely damaged strike cruiser and very few mortal servants. Several of the Black Dragons' mutations had also begun to run rampant throughout their physiology. Amaimon worked relentlessly to halt the mutations using the knowledge he had gained as a brother in the Black Dragons' Apothecarion. But as soon as he thought he had them under control, the mutations would once again tear through the Space Marines with a renewed ferocity. With permission from the dying Valefor, he began to peruse the attendant Librarian's arcana, believing that the mutations were warp-caused rather than their own corrupt gene-seed. It was at this time that Amaimon had discovered that even he had not escaped the mutations: his had simply been a great deal more subtle. His mind had been enhanced in ways that allowed him to see and manipulate the warp, to an extent that grew with practice. Using this newfound knowledge and power he began to not just halt the rampant flesh-change, but he also cultivated those that seemed viable in combat.

 

While this was happening, the Blade limped through realspace, looking for a safe haven. Eventually they came upon an asteroid base being used by pirates and Renegade Marines. Docking under a banner of friendship, Crusnik led a lightning attack against the commander of the base. The new mutations allowed the Black Dragons to move faster and stronger than ever before. Seizing control of the base, he turned its weapons on the defenseless pirates before issuing an ultimatum across the vox: "Join me or die."

 

A few tried to fight back and were destroyed without a moment's hesitation. As a result of this action, he had gained a quartet of raiders as well as their crews. But sadly, his "Company" now only numbered twenty-three Marines as none of the Renegade Astartes had joined them. Due to his refusal of treatment for his mutations before he found a place of supply and aid for his warriors, Crusnik's mutations had gone unchecked. This lack of self-preservation would see to his death as both of his hearts would increase in muscle mass to the point that they could no longer beat and would also fuse directly to his skeletal structure and nervous system. He would die during a pointless operation to save his life.

 

His final wish was that Amaimon would take leadership of the warband as the remaining officer. The Flesh-witch, as he was now called, had begun to lead them in raids across the Eastern Fringe, taking a bounty in slaves from the defenseless civilians. He had developed a curiosity with how the warp interacted with the flesh and used these unfortunate wretches to satisfy his curiosity, as well as his sadism.

 

He has turned his warriors into a band of mercenaries and has since renamed the strike cruiser the Leviathan after it melded with a space hulk. With this find, he has since abandoned the asteroid base, leaving it booby-trapped for any unfortunate enough to decide to call it home. Other than the massive fortress-ship, the raiders that had been obtained in their very first raid had since been destroyed and were never replaced due to the massive numbers of fighters held with the Leviathan. The Void Serpents, as they are know known as, move from system to system under the guidance of Amaimon's rapidly developing warpcraft as well as under the supervision of a Techmarine that had defected to them from the Red Talons Chapter, Furcas. The only other Marines in the Warband are the twenty-two surviving Black Dragons. Instead they rely on pirates, Traitor Guardsmen and a massive slave force to help them achieve their objective which is either looking for more slaves or arcana to help Amaimon learn even more secrets about the warp and its inhabitants.

 

While not truly sworn to any of the powers, they carry blessings of the Great Grandfather and the Blood God, resulting in remarkable resilience and an unquenchable bloodlust in the heat of battle.

[Hyaenidae]

Since this excellent thread has returned from the depths, I present my very first Warband I made when I started playing 40k....

 

----The Ironbound---

The Medusan Knights chapter, founded in M33 from the Iron Hands gene-seed, was created to fill gaps in the defences around the Eye of Terror's northern borders. They continued to serve the Imperium with honour for 3,000 years from their homeworld of Cudere Amentiam, until their forge-monestary was struck by the Dark Mechanicus and 4 full Traitor Titan Legions, and the planet forever cut off from the Imperium by vicious Warp-Storms spreading from the Great Eye. Practically annihlated, the 74 survivors were subject to experimintation and torture as their homeworld was enslaved and turned into a new Deamon-Forge. Their bionics were stripped and rebuilt with foul sorceries, their flesh torn and remolded, thier minds shredded of all sanity by constant forcible scrap-code inloads that polluted their souls. Neither the Emperor nor the Machine God heard their screams, or pleas for mercy. Every one of their weaknessess were brought to the fore, and the Knights could no longer hide their fears and failures behind the mechanical modifications wreathing their bodies.

 

One by one, the surviving Medusan Knights broke their oaths to the Imperium in a fit of madness and self-loathing, and swore themselves to the Dark Gods in an effort to permanently purge the faults inheirent within themselves. With the Titan Legions gone to fight elsewhere, the Knights broke free and used their new modifications and loyalties to the Emperyian to shatter the leaders of the Dark Mechanicus who sat enthroned within the corrupted fortress monestary. With the help of the Warp, they counter-corrupted the scrapcode pouring across the planet, subsuming the skitarii mortals to their will, and murdered the Overlords. Clinically insane, and Ironbound to their oaths to the Eightfold Path to "forcibly purge the failures of the human flesh and soul", they took the world for their own again, casting the entire planet into a home for their diabolical experimentation upon man, machine and daemon.

 

The Ironbound abandoned recruiting aspirants long ago, incapable of focusing on such long term programs without terminating their own neophytes with excessive 'modifications'. Rarely, other Astartes have been adopted into the collective, but such individuals quickly regret such a decision after they are cornered, captured, tortured, and experimented upon by their former allies. The few survivors of the 'upgrades' are loyal to the grave, but unlike the Ironbound, usually useless in assisting with production and projects inside the forges due to the mind-devouring insanity instigated by overeager alterations made to their transhuman frames. These 'terminal/failures' are used instead as suicidal shock-troops and bodyguards, in the extremley rare event that the Ironbound leave their infernal home in search of raw flesh-material, salvage, or rumours of STC fragments.

 

Cudere Amentiam itself burns day and night, covered in an ocean of boiling, liquid soulfire called The Pyriphlegethon by it's screaming, tortured inhabitants. Reaching out from the churning, lambient green hell like broken steel fingers are the Forge-Hives themselves, twisted spires of bloodstained iron; crucified, writhing and screeching innocents; and thick, rancid, oil-gore; pumping out billions of howling human experiments, bio-mechanical siege engines, daemon-machines, and the rare Titan, from the depths of their abominable factories and laboratories. No two creatures or machines that leave these Forge-Hives are alike, in appearance or purpose. Many will be traded for resourses or sold to the highest bidder, though many more of the woe machines are kept as guardians for the Hive-Forges.

 

The masters of this planet and custodians of the forges, the Ironbound themselves, are cruel, absent-minded mad scientisits with severe multiple-personality disorder, incapable of reproducing the same experiment twice, or even at times, finishing their projects in the first place. Due to this, untold numbers of forgotten or released mortals and xenos, partially dissected and put back together with daemonic flesh and bionic parts, prowl the monstrous Forge-Hives and the corpse-bridges connecting them. They shriek their pain and hatred into the scalding air, and hunt each other for flesh-food, reserve power sources, or just to release the strain of their suffering. These screams blend with the roaring of the city-sized furnaces, the buzzing of saws cutting into blood-wet bone, the chime of hammers striking iron, and the numberless xenos and daemonic servo-skulls flitting between gore-stained girders blaring corrupt scrapcode from their vox-casters at eardrum shattering volumes.

 

Hanging in the sky above Cudere Amentiam like a shattered skull is the orbital construction docks, called the Carnem Religatque. Once a small Space Hulk found in system, the mass of broken, fused ships was peeled apart like fresh meat from the bone, reformed into a shipyard laced together with daemonic meat and gristle, and infected with mass payloads of a modified techno-virus. Made self-aware by the infection, the Carnem neither requires, nor wants, a living crew; it's only desire is to consume and create. Shiploads of raw ore and captured living creatures are flown straight into the titanic, toothed maw of bruised meat and broken iron, devoured, and rebuilt within it's cavernous body. Many months, sometimes years later, lethal daemonic warships and corvettes are birthed howling from the flesh docks, trailing blood and mucus, ready to be traded or sold to any warband willing to pay.

 

So engrossed are the Ironbound in the creation of mechanical dementia , that it takes a event of epic proportions to rouse them from their labours. One such event is known as the 'Purge/Deletion'. At times, frantic Warp currents leave Cudere Amentiam cut off from the rest of the Emperyian, unreachable by even the forces of Chaos. The Ironbound, incapable of ceasing their delerious research, continue to pump out billions of experiments despite having no way of ridding themselves of their creations. Eventually, the Hive-Forges will begin to overflow, mortals shrieking as they fall from the teeming Hive walls and collection docks into the infernal Pyriphlegethon, causing the hellfire to retch and spit, overheating the soul-furnaces, shattering outlying factories and decreasing productivity. Worse, at times the experiments will wage free-for-all warfare within one of the Hives, driven to violence from the maddening crush of flesh and steel, causing untold damage. Instead of culling their beloved creations, the Ironbound transmit passive scrapcode binary sequences to the trillions of servo-skulls fluttering throughout the Hives, their vox-casters screaming the sequences across the factory-blocks, while those of the collective who are experienced in techno-magik conduct blood-sacrifice rituals to placate the Warp currents. The barely controlled subjects and daemon-machines are herded into massive troop ships and cargo haulers, and as soon as the Warp calms itself, the transport ships are sent into the Imperium, the skitarii controlling the ships programmed to abandon the creations upon the first civilized world, then return. The Sahmaria System was the most recent victim of this disposal process, numberless legions of frothing insane experiments, some mewling wastes, others hulking monstrosities drowning in combat drugs, thousands of siege engines, and hordes of daemon-machines falling from the skies, then running amok in chaotic rampages throughout the populace. Waves of defiled servo skulls darkened the sky, some bumbling along screeching scrapcode, others loaded with incinderaries and high explosives slamming into clusters of innocents and pieces of armour. Nearly a decade later, suppresion teams are still trying to terminate the half-wasted bionic wretches roaming the wilderness and underhives, praying to the Corpse-Emperor that they do not stumble across the few Praetorian, Defiler and Decimator-class engines still known to be stalking and ambushing Imperial troops like feral animals.

 

Probably add more later....

[Kol Saresk]

:P Just want you to know that you're Ironbound were part of my inspiration for Amaimon being an Apothecary-torturer.

[Hyaenidae]

Thanks man, glad I can inspire others with my cracked- out ideas, lol. Added a bunch more info to the Ironbound in the post above, if you're interested (had a flash of inspiration myself, lol)

[Kol Saresk]

Shazam!

[Caffeineated Chaos]

Just now starting on making a unique warband after playing for about a year. Still primarily in the brainstorming phase. It's a khornate war band, and I'll eventually expand the fluff for their allies(primarily a splinter death guard war band and mercenary oblits from the IW or an IW splinter warband). Want it to be a mixture of renegades and World Eater splinter warband, main idea is that my lord is a turned space marine captain and parts of his company and overall chapter, with various renegades picked up on the way, initial infusion of khorne bezerkers from some World Eaters splinter squads following Khârn around until they happened upon and joined a battle my lord and were impressed enough to join him, with the processes for making khorne bezerkers reversed engineered by my apothecary/apostles/(dirty word!)sorcerers, b/c just as khornate CSMs occasionally find it in themselves to retreat, the nature of dealing with chaos and the warp, and warp travel makes sorcerers a precious if despised commodity. That and making them chordate priests AND blood sorcerers will allow me to give them all sorts of messeded up self-hate issues.

 

Right now I'm really just trying to come up with their name, but I suck at names. I would love to use the word Carnage, and I love the religious names. So far the coolest sounding thing to me I've managed is the Covenant of Slaughter.

 

NOTE: Not wanting to hijack the thread, but it seemed a good place to get some help, can repost as a new topic if it's a problem.

[Kol Saresk]

Hijack away. That is exactly what this thread was made for.

 

Uhm, maybe the Brotherhood of Carnage? It has a somewhat religious overtone to it.

[Caffeineated Chaos]

Hijack away. That is exactly what this thread was made for.

 

Uhm, maybe the Brotherhood of Carnage? It has a somewhat religious overtone to it.

Ty. And it does. And I'm thinking the brotherhood aspect will affect their fall to chaos. Just like the sound of covenant too, but covenant of carnage's alliteration is a might too cheesy for me. But I appreciate the suggestion. I'll be taking it into consideration. Also thinking about their homebase being a spacehulk that they share with their death guard splinter and IW allies. W/ each having their own craft docked their when not off doing their various mission-y type stuff.

[Menkeroth]

Order of the Flame Blood ;) or Blood Covenant.