Maverike Primes Conversion challenge #8, Litanies and Legend

[sarabando]

still cant find my dang camera :) really annoyed as im really proud of the model :(

 

edit; found camera

Inquisitor Sophia Esma the avenging maiden from the past death mask and all.

 

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0256.jpg

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0258.jpg

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0259.jpg

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0260.jpg

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0261.jpg

http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h269/ubinox/000_0262.jpg

 

just noticed the purity seal on the back has fallen off just left the "paper" bits behind hm

[The_Chaplain]

Neophyte Abramov had dreamed of this day ever since his initiation into the chapter as a member of the scout company. He had been invited to witness the awakening of one of the venerable brothers of old in the deepest catacombs of the chapter’s star fortress, The Mausoleum.

His trip through the vaulted halls, adorned with reliquaries and statues of venerated heroes managed to create a swelling of pride in his chest as well as leaving him strangely haunted; the harsh lighting in the hallways casting eerie shadows upon the faces of the dead. He had heard tales of these mighty warriors, as had all initiates of the chapter, but to see these titanic figures at his sides made him ponder if he would one day be immortalized beside them; if one day he would inspire as these titans had for inspired him and encouraged him towards acts of greatness.

As he continued his journey, he was once again struck by a statuesque feature- and he turned to greet this grim guardian. His stare was returned by the cold, calculating stare and jester’s grin of a skull- the dead stare stiffening something within the young neophyte, hardening and reforging something within himself. His eyes tracked downwards towards the placard which read: Father Evagrius, the first Confessor in its faded, raised print.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Father Evagrius had been the first chaplain inducted into the chapter who had been raised on the now dead world of Corovodja; the masters of the chapter taking notice of his quick wit and quicker temper. Over years of training and conditioning, Evagrius made his transition from a neophyte into a full fledged initiate- his scout carapace armor being replaced with power armor. Over further generations his ascension became paved with corpses slain under his righteous hand- the body count left in his wake netting him the attention and accolades of members of the inner cadre of the chapter. Taking the marine under their wing, they began searching for a niche that this marine could fall into.

Eventually, they discovered that Imperial scriptures particularly resonated with Evagrius, who tempered himself in the fires of faith- re forging himself into a weapon of faith and a source inspiration for those around him.

Evagrius was assigned Father of the 8th assault company, a position that suited him to a tee- his fiery sermons whipping marines under his command into an unyielding zeal before personally leading them into the fray- the contrails from his jet pack leaving a trail for his fellow crusaders to follow.

Such was the case during what was to be Evagrius’ final flight- defending the fortress monastery alongside his 8th and the neophytes against the forces of chaos; their foul tactica utilizing the absence of the other companies to land a telling blow on the pride of the chapter. Traitorous marines and their cultist followers poured wave upon wave of bodies at the entrance of the monastery- being repelled with toothed chainsaw and the roar of bolter fire. The number of dead faced, soulless eyed heretic charging their doorstep seemed endless; razing the landmass below the monastery with devastating biochemical weaponry and over the course of several days pushed the brave marines further and further into the recesses of their sanctuary; eventually denying the marines the open space that their armaments required.

It was at this point that the brave warriors saw the orchestrator of this fiendish plot: a daemon prince of terrifying might, Tha’muz had no peers- it’s only companions were death left in its wake and the acrid smell of cordite emanating from the barrels of its monstrous weaponry. Seeking a challenge, it turned its collective attention towards Father Evagrius. The Daemon surged forward- splintering pews with every miss of his unholy blade; but the chaplain was undeterred and unafraid- raising his crozius high to lay the daemon low!

Minutes passed like hours in this titanic duel, before it became clear who was to be victorious- each combatant having suffered grievous wounds at the hands of the other. Vaulting himself off the chapel’s lectern- Evagrius struck his weapon home, fracturing the daemon’s skull and sending its corpse sprawling to the floor. But at what price comes victory? The wounds Evagrius suffered in that bought gradually draining him of his strength; in the days that followed the crusading companies would return- to find their fortress monastery in ruin and the few surviving members of the 8th and 10th companies huddled around their fading Father- who had urged them to continue living long enough to have their final confessions taken and written in a nearby tome. This would become a ritual practiced by every Father in the chapter, and in some exceptional circumstances confessions of guardsman the chapter would fight alongside would be taken.

Of the 150 marines and neophytes, a little over 30 survived; one of which was the heroic chaplain- barely clinging to life, his armor rent asunder and vitriol leaking from his broken body. Almost immediately, he was rushed to the inner sanctum and the apothecaries and tech priests began their grim work. They were determined to save him, an effort that would see the venerated warrior interred within a dreadnought sarcophagus- were he has continued to rest for close to the last 4 centuries…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Suddenly the hallway was filled with a wave of red, flashing light. To his left and his right Abramov was quickly passed by a tech priest and a series of servitors, all hurriedly running towards the tomb of sleeping ancients.

As the neophyte entered the great room, his senses were immediately assaulted- the flashing lights throwing shadows around the room that danced on the edges of his peripheral vision, the unguents from censer servitors clung to the insides of his nose and the thundering crashes of stamping metal all but deafened him. A voice exclaimed from the darkness “This is unprecedented! Father Evagrius is waking on his own!”

Another, quivering voice cried out “The tranquilizing balms have no effect!”

“NO! I HAVE SLUMBERED LONG ENOUGH! THE FIRES OF FAITH PUMP THROUGH MY VEINS ONCE MORE!”

The techpriest turned to the youth, his voice short and frenzied; “Run neophyte, run to the chapel and tell all present that the Confessor has awoken. Tell them to prepare for a crusade.” The youth’s departure was abruptly halted as the dreadnought raised an armored fist- blocking his exit.

“NO” Evagrius interjected, “I WILL TELL THEM MYSELF, A SERMON MUST BE DELIVERED.”

http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/162/4/a/front_on_shot_by_emo_catboy-d534chi.jpg

http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/162/8/c/right_side_shot_by_emo_catboy-d5348rw.jpg

http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/162/f/0/rear_shot_chaplain_conversion_by_emo_catboy-d534bo6.jpg

Presented for the contest, Father Evagrius, The First Confessor from my DIY chapter "The Confessors", before his internment into a dreadnought.

++note++ might try and move some paragraphs in the post so it doesn't come across as a wall of text++

[YoungWolf7]

Entry: Maverike Primes Conversion challenge #8, Litanies and Legend

 

The Poena Mortem ground to a halt in front of a circle of terminators, bones and debris crunching and splintering under its adamantium tracks and pelting its ebon flanks with dust and dirt. Hissing like an angry dragon, the Poena Mortem’s assault ramp opened to reveal a hulking hooded figure clad in black terminator armor. A skull-faced visage leered out from the inside hood as the figure strode down the ramp into the blasted courtyard flanked by an honor guard.

 

“Sergeant Temis, report.” the figure intoned.

 

“Sir. The main target has been located and captured. The secondary target managed to elude us. We have a departure vector however and have a ship in pursuit. Site secured and awaiting orders, Master Castellan.”

 

“Castellan?” came a snarling query from behind Sergeant Temis. He stepped aside to reveal a bloody and battered marine in ancient dark green power armor on his knees, each arm held out to the side in the grip of a veteran terminator. His armor had been noticeably defaced and altered, but was still recognizable as the livery of the Dark Angels legion. His face twisted into a grimace of hatred.

 

“Silence traitor!” shouted the soldier on the left as he twisted the marine’s arm and backhanded him with a gauntleted fist. Castellan raised his hand and the soldier immediately snapped back to attention.

 

“Yes, Brennan.” Castellan responded. “I found you on this backwater rat hole of a planet and your day of reckoning has arrived.”

 

“Shouldn’t that be Brother Brennan?” Brennan spat.

 

“No, Brennan. You ceased to be my brother the day you sided with my thrice-damned father and betrayed the Order. Of all of my original battle-brothers from Caliban, YOU should have known better. You now have a choice. Tell me where the Lion is and I will make your traitor’s death swift and painless. Refuse and your death will be neither swift nor painless.”

 

Brennan spat blood, staining Castellan’s tabard. “Your precious Lion. You are a fool to still follow him.”

 

All of the black-clad warriors visibly stiffened at the remark and then regained their composure. All that is, except Castellan. If anything, he seemed to relax at the barb. “Where is the Lion? I know you were there in the Tower. What happened? Where is he?”

 

“You will never find that loyalist dog!” Brennan yelled.

 

“I can see that alternate methods will be required Brennan. Stand him up.”

 

Two of Castellan’s honor guards stepped forward and relieved the terminators of their charge. Stretching him arms tightly, they forced Brennan to his feet. Castellan held his right hand out to his side and a third honor guard placed a well-used combi-melta in his grip. Castellan casually pointed it at Brennan and fired a three round bolter burst into Brennan’s knee, obliterating it and nearly severing the leg.

 

Brennan howled in pain and then began to laugh. Castellan fired another burst and destroyed the other knee, dropping Brennan to stand on bloody stumps suspended by his arms in the grasp of the stoic honor guards.

 

“Where is the Lion?” Castellan calmly repeated.

 

“I can do this all day!” Brennan laughed hoarsely.

 

“I know you think you can Brennan. But you already broke faith once and you will do so again. You are a worthless traitor and it is only a matter of time.”

 

Brennan’s face began to pale as Castellan strode within arm’s length and held the muzzle of the melta to his chestplate.

 

“Where is the Lion?” Castellan calmly repeated once more. “I will not ask again. Failure to answer will result in much more extreme measures before you are released to the embrace of your foul chaos masters.”

 

“I… I don’t know.” Brennan stammered. His bravado was gone as he saw the muzzle begin to glow.

 

“Liar.” Castellan nearly whispered now. “You know and you WILL tell me.” With a blinding flash a large portion of Brennan’s chest evaporated into a red haze.

 

“But… I dooon…” Brennan gurgled, his eyes drooping shut.

 

Castellan held both hands out to his sides and the combi-melta was quickly taken from the right and his bladed crozius placed in his left. He grabbed Brennan’s hair and jerked his head up to face his own skull mask. Brennan’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils contracted to pinpoints. Castellan placed the edge of his crozius at the side of Brennan’s neck and thumbed the activation rune. The blade pulsed with power and sizzled where it touched Brennan’s exposed neck.

 

“We have much to discuss while we pursue your compatriot Brennan. We will speak again shortly.” With a flick of his wrist, Castellan effortlessly parted Brennan’s head from his shoulders. He turned and tossed it to one of the honor guards who deftly caught it and returned into the Poena Mortem.

 

“Sergeant Temis. Igneus Protocol.” he barked as he strode up the assault ramp followed by the remaining honor guards. The ramp hissed shut as the Poena Mortem roared away.

 

Presenting Chapter Master Castellan of the Punishing Angels:

 

http://youngwolf7.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Castellan_01.jpghttp://youngwolf7.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Castellan_02.jpghttp://youngwolf7.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Castellan_03.jpghttp://youngwolf7.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Castellan_04.jpghttp://youngwolf7.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Castellan_05.jpg

[Kassill]

Ooh, they look great guys! Looking forward to the rest! :D

[Lexington]

Just in the nick o' time! May I present Adrahas, Eater of the Dead!

 

--

 

The screams of sacrifices nearly drowned out the chants and undulations of the Word Bearers as they prepared for the slaughter to come. Below them, a world slept its last peaceful nights, blissfully unaware of the Sicarii’s fleet gathering in orbit above them. At Lord Esarhaddon’s command, they would unleash the Unholy Ones’ fury upon these servants of the Emperor, and remind an Imperium of the vengeance still owed.

 

Adrahas flexed the individual fingers of his gauntlet, and heard the servos each one hum almost inaudibly, each joint oiled with bloody sacrament. He watched with little interest as the brothers he commanded tore open the captured crew of this world’s meagre defense station, and partook of still-living organs in a ritual whose origins had long been forgotten. He steeled himself in meditation, preparing himself in mind as his brothers prepared in body. He subsumed himself in his chosen role as the Eater of the Dead, the Rememberer. He who ate of his brothers’ dying flesh, so that they might not truly die.

 

Memories poured through his consciousness. A wordless shout through a ruined throat mixed with a porcine squeal as he rammed his chainsword through the ork that had already killed him. Lying amongst the concrete rubble of a ruined hab-city, unable to feel hands or feet through a shattered spine. A brief remembrance of boiling pain, the world turning white and vision shrinking to a pinpoint. Often it was his own hand he saw descending, bringing up a gilded bolter to bring a final, booming echo before the world flew apart in fire. His brothers had felt many things in that moment - anger, doubt, remorse, hatred, confusion. He had felt it all with them. Before even the bearers of the Graalech could take his brothers’ gene-seed, he had eaten of their flesh and seen those last precious moments.

 

So many histories not his own mixed with a mind stripped by Rituals of Remembrance, preserving a few chosen memories, while purging any others. Ten-thousand years of war and death and worship swirled into a whole whose many points of origin he could no longer discern. Had he truly stood with his brothers as the Urizen had denounced the Emperor and reforged the faith of Colchis’ mysterious founders? Watched the Palace steps burn with unnatural fire as Titan and Daemon marched against the adamantium walls? Felt that shame as his Primarch had left them for his own meditations? Some had to be his own. The pain and awe burned too brightly to be anything else.

 

Elezear the Sanctifier stood above him, thousands of years in the past, adorned in the ritual robes that marked him as first amongst the Host’s Apostles. Adrahas had imbibed the blood of his forefathers, spoken in tongues and held fast against the Absolution and its agonies. The Sanctifier proclaimed his initiation complete. Now he would join that dark priesthood that stood watch over his brothers’ souls, and kept Lorgar’s revelations burning in their hearts.

 

He knew the Primarch had abandoned his children. He had heard the rumors and whispers, the promises of Aurelian’s eventual return. Kor Phaeron had lied to them all. Lorgar pondered the depths of the Aether for thousands of years before he had gone into Templum Inficio. He did not need its silence to see any further. The Primarch had turned his back on a Legion whose failure he could no longer tolerate. It was in that moment of realization that he had started down the path he now walked.

 

“Brother,” intoned the Legionary who now knelt at his feet, breaking Adrahas from his reverie. It was The Apostle dipped his gauntlet into the vase of sacrificial blood that stood beside him upon the altar, and pressed firmly upon the Marine’s bare forehead, leaving a bloody print. In Colchis’ ancient, harsh tongue, he spoke of glories to come, and a galaxy crushed by their will and their hatred. Of new offerings to the Gods. New blood to feed a war that was their only meaning.

 

--

 

http://lexingtonnet.com/flamerchappy/front.jpg

 

http://lexingtonnet.com/flamerchappy/side.jpg

 

http://lexingtonnet.com/flamerchappy/side2.jpg

 

http://lexingtonnet.com/flamerchappy/back.jpg

 

http://lexingtonnet.com/flamerchappy.jpg

 

Edit: Oops, had linked the giant original images, rather than the appropriately-resized ones. Apologies to anyone that opened the thread earlier and was stuck downloading like ten megs of images.

[The_Chaplain]

See Maverike, you got entries into the contest...

 

Now, how are votes tabulated?

[maverike_prime]

See Maverike, you got entries into the contest...

 

Now, how are votes tabulated?

 

Votes are not tabulated in any fashion. I select the winner.

[maverike_prime]

11 hours to go... tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...

[The_Chaplain]

11 hours to go... tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...

 

What happens in 11 hours?

[maverike_prime]

11 hours to go... tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...tick-tock...

 

What happens in 11 hours?

 

the deadline for submissions is 12:00 noon EST. So in 2 hours 12 minutes (at the time of this writing) the submissions will be closed and I will begin judging the entries.

[The_Chaplain]

the deadline for submissions is 12:00 noon EST. So in 2 hours 12 minutes (at the time of this writing) the submissions will be closed and I will begin judging the entries.

 

But according to the first post:

All entries must be submitted prior to 12:00 noon EST June 16th, 2012There will be NO EXCEPTIONS!

 

Hasn't the deadline come and gone by about 2 days now? Not trying to be an ass, just a little confused.

[maverike_prime]

the deadline for submissions is 12:00 noon EST. So in 2 hours 12 minutes (at the time of this writing) the submissions will be closed and I will begin judging the entries.

 

But according to the first post:

All entries must be submitted prior to 12:00 noon EST June 16th, 2012There will be NO EXCEPTIONS!

 

Hasn't the deadline come and gone by about 2 days now?

 

oh... well crap. I put the wrong day in my calendar. I had the Deadline posted in my calandar as the 18th. Yes it has passed. Please excuse my previous post. I'm just a dumb ass.

[The_Chaplain]

oh... well crap. I put the wrong day in my calendar. I had the Deadline posted in my calandar as the 18th. Yes it has passed. Please excuse my previous post. I'm just a dumb ass.

 

No you're not. Calendar mishaps happen all the time- in hindsight, it's probably good someone brought it to your attention. Have fun with the judging, lots of good entries in the thread!

[YoungWolf7]

*posting in the thread to keep it visible until the deadline to submit judging has passed*

[maverike_prime]

*posting in the thread to keep it visible until the deadline to submit judging has passed*

 

what?

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

*posting in the thread to keep it visible until the deadline to submit judging has passed*

 

what?

 

huh?

[cathar the great]

*posting in the thread to keep it visible until the deadline to submit judging has passed*

 

Hehe, I lol'd. Maverick, he's obviously making some light fun of the way you kept bumping the thread all the time, no need to be so uptight about it.

 

 

A lot of interesting entries in this one, on what basis will you judge these? 50/50 story/converting or is one more important than the other?

[YoungWolf7]

*posting in the thread to keep it visible until the deadline to submit judging has passed*

 

Hehe, I lol'd. Maverick, he's obviously making some light fun of the way you kept bumping the thread all the time, no need to be so uptight about it.

 

 

A lot of interesting entries in this one, on what basis will you judge these? 50/50 story/converting or is one more important than the other?

Correct. Just trying to keep things light until this is completed. :lol:

[maverike_prime]

Hehe, I lol'd. Maverick, he's obviously making some light fun of the way you kept bumping the thread all the time, no need to be so uptight about it.

 

I say one word and I'm uptight? That certainly makes me less then interested in running another conversion challenge.

 

Anyway, Winner announcement time:

 

I don't know how many times I had to re-read the stories and pick them apart to find a winner. I finally had to just say "Screw it! I'll come back to it tommorow" because I was starting to have images of Raven Guard Inquisitors making a Chaotic Sacrafice... and there's my head ache again.

 

 

Anyway, the winner is:

http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a316/maverike_prime/Warhammer/8th-winner.jpg

[The Yak]

"Well firstly I want to thank God. Thanks to my family and friends who are always there to support me. Big thanks to my agent for getting me the gig in the first place. Want to thank the rest of the Raptors Chapter and of course a big thank you to Corax without you big guy none of this would have been possible. (wipes tear from eye) This is for you kids!"

 

Wahooo I've won something for the first time in my life!

 

I've really enjoyed looking at the other entries and reading the stories too and cant wait to see them all painted up. So well done guys :P

 

Thanks Maverike for running these competitions. I think they are excellent and spent ages going through all 7 previous competitions looking at some great models that I have stored in my memory for future inspiration. please don't stop running them as B&C will be worse off without them.

 

Thanks

[Montuhotep]

Thanks Maverike for running these competitions. I think they are excellent and spent ages going through all 7 previous competitions looking at some great models that I have stored in my memory for future inspiration. please don't stop running them as B&C will be worse off without them.

 

+10,00000000000000000000000000000

[The_Chaplain]

Congratulations to Yak on the win, and good on all the brothers who entered- these challenges really push our skills to their limits.

 

Thank you Maverike Prime for running the contest, looking forward to the next one.

[Lexington]

Woo! Congrats, Yak! Y'earned it. :pinch:

[The Unnamed]

Told ya. :D