Chaos ah um, Pre Heresy Dreadclaw as Drop Pods

[Dono1979]

Hi all,

 

Just wondering what you reckon of using Dreadclaws as Drop Pods for my Black Templar Troops?

 

I have two regular Drop Pods with upgraded armour (from Chapterhouse) for my two regular Dreads and then a Lucious Dreadnought Drop Pod for my Contemptor Dreadnought, but I dont have any Drop Pods for my troops at all.

 

I have always really liked the look of the Dreadclaws and once upon a time all the cool kids used them... until they started killing their passangers.

 

I dont think it will be too difficult to carve off the chaos symbols and replace them with the Cross of awesome.

 

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0y2seqEPuOs/TB-KmP3Q5VI/AAAAAAAAASw/xf2B6DMEntA/s1600/dreadclaw.jpg

 

-Dono

[Marshal Veyross]

I can see the potential for it to look very gothic or "cathedral-ish" (Yes, its a word :) ).

 

If it really appeals to you more than the vanilla drop pod then I say go for it. Just make sure you're ruthless in removing the chaos iconography and give it a second coat of sacred oils just to be safe.

 

On a seperate note, Dreadclaws kill their passengers? I apologise, I am not up to speed on the rules for most forge worlds models and am simply curious.

[Roesor]

HERESY!

 

But pretty.

[Brother Nihm]

We've always had the best designs. :P

 

I say go for it.

[Dono1979]

On a seperate note, Dreadclaws kill their passengers? I apologise, I am not up to speed on the rules for most forge worlds models and am simply curious.

 

From Lexicanum:

 

Dreadclaws are Drop Pod like transports used by the Space Marine Legions of old, and still used by the Chaos Space Marines.

Dreadclaws are used to quickly deploy Traitor Marines onto a planet from orbit. The Dreadclaws themselves are deployed from cruisers or battleships. It is armed with the Deathwind weapon system, which upon landing, fires upon any nearby enemies.

 

The Dreadclaws were designed for ship-to-ship combat as they are equipped with a spiked "maw" used to drill through hulls. Its design has been heavily corrupted from thousands of years exposed to Chaos and they are now used for a variety of roles from boarding ships, to planetary assault.

 

The Dreadclaw is an all purpose drop pod: it can either drop troops or a dreadnought. Unlike other types of drop pod, it can take off again after landing.

 

Ultimately the Dreadclaws were dropped from service by the majority of the Imperial of the time, except for the traitor legions. The Dreadclaw's advanced machine spirit began to develop dangerous tendencies, on occasion causing the death of its passengers, though in the dark times of the heresy their use continued due to the desperateness of their commander; or their wanton lack of care for their troops. Despite the Adeptus Mechanicus revising the vehicle's machine spirit, a streak of accidents led to the majority of the Dreadclaws being jettisoned into space, and now only the Traitor Legions are known to use these dangerous, albeit advanced, vessels.

[Dono1979]

Ok... now what about a Chaos Warhound... I think that the Chaos version has so much more character then the normal Imperial one.... I'm sure I can make it look like Templar.

 

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I fear my Crusade may be slipping more and more to Traitor....

 

-Dono

[Arthanor]

Mmh, I don't know.. There's a lot of chaos detail on that puppy. Purging it of all of it means losing all the interior details and scrapping off lots of symbols from the armor. Might be better off customizing an imperial one.

 

On the topic of a templar titan, never been a fan of the idea. A space marine is wasted stuck inside one when the princeps already do a fine job. Even the dreadknight was a horrendous idea (and ridiculous model). What would be cool and totally in keeping with the fluff, however, is a titan from Legio Crucius, the Warmongers. Their uncompromising ideology fits well with us and their paint scheme is black and white! Add a few templar honor markings (like the aircrafts in Helsreach) and to most people, it will be a templar, but it will not be breaking any fluff.

 

Regarding the dreadclaws, they are a bit difficult to justify but look wise, they are pretty cool! There is certainly a way to make them work, maybe as modified drop pods or your Master of the Forge getting the STC and deciding to try his hand at it, thinking that the ferocious machine spirit fits well with the Templars.

[Dono1979]

Yeah the internal details dont matter too much, it will be sealed. Good point about the Warmongers... maybe they had a couple with the Kildrech Crusade after all and simply won a heap of honours, before the continued isolation of the survivors have started pushing them to do things.... which a loyal marine wouldnt normally do. :P

 

-Dono

[Arthanor]

You know... You are getting me to think.. Ok, it's not a hard thing to do, at all, when it comes to 40k.. But focusing me on one thing since last night, so you have some merit!

 

NOTE: If you are insulted by the thought of Templars falling to chaos, don't read this! Otherwise, I hope you will enjoy it.

 

Imagine a crusade pushing into the far reaches of the Imperium, exterminating xenos and bringing world after world into the imperial fold. As time goes, support dwindles. They are too far, other threats come up, they are not a priority anymore and for some, they simply get forgotten. But the crusade goes on. They are self sufficient enough on the basic stuff, the fleet doesn't suffer any crippling losses and they can recruit to some extent on the worlds just pacified.

 

More time passes and after decades, nobody really remembers their life before. The original guardsmen are dead or settled on the pacified worlds left behind. Those recruited to replace them have only known this war, along these grizzled Templar veterans and the titans with their hulls covered in battle damage and honors. Templars have seen the years of this crusade stretch into decades. No glory for the forgotten crusade, no recognition for the knights, just more and more fire and death as the leaders keep pushing outwards, into sectors further and further from the "civilized" Imperium. No satisfaction at liberating a world when there have been tens of others just like it before. But every time, battle brothers, esteemed friends alongside whom they had fought since the beginning of the crusade, are taken down by the filthy xenos or the abhorrent heretics.

 

After some point, even the guiding light of the astronomicon is but a faint glow on the warp horizon, astropathic communication becomes next to impossible and has to be relayed so many times by so many outposts that the delay and loss of quality or meaning make it worthless. Records are archived in great tomes which grow dusty before they are even filled. They are then archived and left for the fabled time of return.

 

Unending war for beyond memory, with no outside contact takes factions closer together. Each has been saved countless times by the others, each is covered in honors bestowed by the others. After the third decade, they are indistinguishable but for difference in size, from guardsman to marine to dreadnought and titans. Black Templars and Warmongers already shared the black and white livery and it was adopted naturally by the imperial guard regiment founded upon the liberated worlds. Now they are all covered in shared symbols of shared bloodshed, all integrated as their leaders have learned to work together to perfection. Without outside support, brothers in arms are all there is, so their loss becomes increasingly painful for all elements of the crusade.

 

The fall of venerable brother Gunther, defending the scout titan Foe Seeker who got swarmed by a group of xenos, proved to be a turning point. Brother Gunther had been a sword brethren when the original campaign was launched and became a hero of the crusade. He held the line with his brothers in front of a charge by tech-heretic cyborgs, buying the imperial guards enough time to pound the abominations into twisted metal and mangled flesh. As a castellan, he lead his fighting company to support Legio elements over numerous campaigns. Once, faced with a biomechanical construct five times his size, he had made his peace with the Emperor. At that moment, Foe Seeker, who had been stalking the prey for a day across the battlefield, got close enough to engage. A volley of burning plasma flew just over the marine and hit the construct, taking his attention away from its puny prey. Gunther was still alive and interred in a dreadnought. Castellan Gunther, now venerable brother Gunther, vowed he would pay his debt to the mighty titan. Years later, he had finally saved Foe Seeker. The enemies, smaller than the titan and well under its gun, were purged with jets of burning promethium and a hail of steel from the dreadnought's assault cannon. But one of the foul beast had smelled the weak flesh of brother Gunther and managed to reach it. The crippled hero suffered horrendous wounds, his fledgling life was threathened. To prevent his death, the Legio offers to hold the venerable brother in an amniotic tank, the only receptacle able to keep him alive in this state, no sarcophagus being available to accomodate the hero. He would rise again as princep of a newly refurbished Titan. No princep had been prepared and sent to the crusade in years by the homeworld, so who better than a hero of the crusade to pilot it? Accepting the honor and continued service of the Emperor instead of death, brother Gunther became the Black Runner, a terrifying sight. His armament and heraldry: black armor, red honors from the Black Templars and a glowing hot pair of plasma blastguns; send his foes running before him, and he runs after them. His zeal in battle is only matched by the ferocity with which he goes from one engagement to the other. His reactor on the verge of meltdown, the Black Runner often pushes the mechanicum masterpiece he became to its limits to move faster and fuel his two plasma blastguns at the same time.

 

This was the first step in the breaking of all differentiation between the various elements of the crusade. A decade later, it is an homogenous fighting force composed of elements from all its previous constituents. They are like nothing that existed before them. Their leader, warmaster Fredrick, started as an underage recruit from one of the first pacified worlds forced to fight for his life. He was noticed and taken as a neophyte, climbed the echelons of the war host as his seniors died in battle and rose into a command position. He now commands a fleet and assets from the imperial guard, space marines and titans. His host even includes constructs and life forms unseen in the Imperium, acquired as they claim more worlds and incorporate their war engines.

 

So few individuals remain of the original strike force that the beliefs of the host have become a twisted parody of what they once were. Plunderers shout "Gold for the Golden Throne!" as they sack cities which would have bowed to the imperials, if not for the demand of all their riches for the golden throne and a child per family for the host. A fringe group has even started to preach that skulls are the gold of the afterlife. They rampage and murder across battlefields and conquered cities alike. A new competition has appeared with the others as to which warcry would be loudest, and which offering will be most valued. "Souls for the light in the Warp!" others shout as they sacrifice prisoners of war and civilian captive to fuel the presence in the warp who guides them, a perversion of the sacrifice of thousand of psykers to fuel the Astronomicon. Above the colorful low echelons of the host, a warband of power armored warriors is striving to perfect every style of combat, trying to prevent any further loss of a brethren to such contemptible foes as they face. Others isolate themselves. Having given up on steel, they try to master new weapons of war obtained from the subjucated worlds: sickness, chemicals, poisons. Nothing is beyond their interest. Soon, they shall begin a new experiment on some of their members. They have found a cure for pain and will be able to stride in battle without fear of injury.

 

It is obvious that the host is now too far to perceive the blessed light of the Emperor, imperial scholars would recognize them for the chaos pawn that they became but the Enlightening Host does not. Most of the host is serving the god of Hope, the treacherous fiend whose schemes placed as the guide of the host when his light replaced the dimming light of the emperor. Amongst the main force, aquila are now slowly replaced with more raven like features, the blacks are turning to blues, reds to purples, as the Enlightening Host forgets its old patron and recognizes that their ways have changed.

[fenhold]

 

The Dreadclaw's advanced machine spirit began to develop dangerous tendencies, on occasion causing the death of its passengers, though in the dark times of the heresy their use continued due to the desperateness of their commander; or their wanton lack of care for their troops.

 

 

Yeah that Hal 9000 machine spirit didn't work out so well.............. " Open the drop pod door Hal". "I'm sorry Battle Captain Dave I can't do that."

 

Spendy but it will be unique.

[Roesor]

I think....this thread requires purification =/