Sword Bearers and the Unforgiven (Updated 1/07/23: Angels Redeemed)

[deathspectersgt7]

NEW FLUFF YES !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Eternal Warrior]

It's been many years that this journey has been under way. Getting to go back to 2013 and see the most nonsensical question ever asked by me and I cringe. Forgive me for that. Getting to read all of the fiction from the beginning again is a blessing that was worth the embarrassment. Thank you for the inspiration and work painting.

[Spaced Hulk]

@ Punk possum: Cheers mate!  If I can paint them even a fraction as well as your Angels of Vengeance, I'll be happy!

 
@ Greenz: I don't do it on purpose mate  Honest 
 
@ deathspectersrg7: Thanks for the enthusiasm brother, hope you like it! 
 
@ Eternal Warrior: Wow, thank you brother!  I'm afraid I had to read through the whole topic to see what question you were referring to, but it really wasn't that nonsensical. I'm sure I've asked far sillier questions here on the forums. Thank you again for the high praise, and for re-reading what is now quite a lengthy thread 
 
Ok,it's taken me a lot longer than I'd hoped, but update time. This is the first part of a brand new Sword Bearers story that I've been writing. Before starting, it's probably worth reading my original description of Mire, the Chapter's homeworld, from page one, or spoilered here:

 

Amongst the Unforgiven, the Sword Bearers can be considered unique in the location of their deployment. Based in the furthest outskirts of the Eastern Fringe, the Chapter is geographically isolated from both their parent chapter and the Imperium itself. Historians believe that Mire, the Chapter's adopted home world, lies within the region once known as Thramas, an obscure sector with a troubled and violent past. During the dark days of the Horus Heresy, Thramas was the site of a prolonged campaign between the loyalist Dark Angel Legion and the rebellious forces of the Night Lords. Although the First Legion eventually achieved a devastating victory over their former brothers, the duration of the conflict ensured that they were unable to return in time to join the defence of the Imperial Palace.

 

The Mire System is located at the most extreme edge of the galaxy's eastern spiral arm. From this distant position, it is actually quicker to enter the inter-galactic void than it is to return to Holy Terra. The System itself consists of six planets and fourteen moons, orbiting a G type main sequence star. Only three of these worlds are within the habitable envelope, and only the closest of these, Mire, is known to support life. The next nearest inhabited system is approximately two weeks warp travel away, while a journey to the closest Forge world can take up to six months.

 

Mire itself is a particularly grim and inhospitable world. Although similar in size, density and atmospheric composition to planets such as Chiros and Iax, it's surface is bleak and almost constantly rain sodden. In one standard week, Mire can experience as much rainfall as a productive agri-world will receive in a year. For some reason, Mire's water cycle appears to be in a perpetual state of over drive. Seasonal changes bring little temperature variation and it appears that the climate is somehow locked in this pattern. Magos Explorator investigators have theorised that this highly unusual environment is not a natural phenomenon, and that therefore the planet must have been deliberately engineered to reach this strange equilibrium. However the method (and indeed the rationale) for such a feat is indiscernible, and there are no signs of pre-Imperial civilisation anywhere within the Mire system.

 

When the rain does sporadically abate, mist and fog spring up almost instantly, covering everything in a shroud of darkness and moisture vapour. The result is a world bathed in water; a world of cold, stormy seas and grey, sunless skies. What land exists is a permanent quagmire of marshes, fens and swamps, while higher ground consists of barren, rocky hills and mist wreathed moorland. However, despite these oppressive conditions, Mire is far from lifeless. Both flora and fauna have evolved to survive in this waterlogged environment, including a number of large, amphibious predators that prowl the wetlands in search of prey.

 

Perhaps incredibly, humanity maintains a foothold on Mire, enduring the relentless rain and depressing lack of sunlight. Two distinct societies have emerged since Mire was first colonised: Marsh-dwellers and Highlanders. The Marsh-folk live exclusively in the planet's wetlands and have retained an impressive level of knowledge and technology. Their ancient settlements are built upon steel-reinforced stilts above the fens and bogs they call home, their communities based upon fishing and cultivating hydroponic crops. Any Marsh-dweller is instantly recognisable by their Second Skin, a moisture repellent body suit worn at all times to protect against constant water exposure. This synthetic, waterproof membrane is vat grown using local materials and forms the basis of their economy. Marsh-folk are aware of the universe beyond their home world, and while they lack space faring craft of any kind, they are regularly visited by ships from neighbouring systems, allowing them to trade for goods and materials that would otherwise be unobtainable. Despite their grasp of technology, life in the wetlands is a constant struggle for survival, a battle not just against the elements but also the vicious predators that lurk unseen within the marshes. The most fearsome of these is perhaps the Mirewyrm, a carnivorous invertebrate that grows to over three metres in length.

 

Highlanders, in contrast, have reverted to a primitive, almost feral state. From their scattered hill forts, the highland tribes eke out a difficult existence in the harsh conditions. Surviving mainly as hunter-gatherers, they roam across the moors as both predators and prey, tracking the small herds of native herbivores while avoiding or fighting off the large carnivores that share their domain. Life in the hills is hard, brutal and frequently very short, with only twenty five per cent of infants surviving to adulthood and very few Highlanders living past their thirtieth year. Disease and deformity are rife amongst the tribes, malnutrition and constant exposure to Mire's climate causing a host of physiological problems and illnesses. Warfare between neighbouring tribes is also common, as each settlement competes for the scant resources available to them. Those Highlanders that do survive are a strong, resilient people, proud of their ability to survive and inherently disdainful of outsiders.

 

Despite the immense cultural differences between the two societies, conflict between them is surprisingly rare. Both Marsh-dwellers and Highlanders are aware of the other's existence, but neither make any attempt to contact the other or intrude upon their territory. For the Marsh-folk, the hills and moorland above are a savage, primeval place, and those that dwell there are equally primitive and barbaric. For the Highlanders, the fens and swamps below are a truly alien environment, a haunted world where death strikes from beneath without warning. With each community singularly adapted to their own needs, communication between them is both unnecessary and unwanted. Indeed there are only two occasions when Marsh-folk and Highlanders come into contact with each other. The first is the arrival of the trading ships, which have to land on the very edge of the marshes and therefore draw curious attention from the tribes above. Such meetings are usually peaceful, as the Highlanders, although primitive, still recognise the opportunity to trade goods and information.

 

The second occasion only happens once every ten years, in an event known to both Marsh-dweller and Highlander alike as the Calling. This is the only time when the Space Marines of the Sword Bearers walk openly amongst the peoples of their adopted home world. The time when the next generation are selected to join the Emperor's Angels, leaving their homes and families for a new existence, far from the perpetual rain and fog of Mire, in the stars so rarely seen through the clouded sky.

 

Extract taken from the Mythos Angelica Mortis, Appendix 3a: 'Homeworlds of the Astartes', M36 (Low Gothic Translation, 864.M40)

 

Thanks for reading, hope you like it 

 

FALSE DAWN, A Tale of Mire

Part One

 

Despite the advice of the Elders and their own better judgement, it is still dark when they leave the safety of the settlement. 

 

Dawn, the true dawn which will signal the end of this current season of Long Night, remains several weeks in the future. Even the so-called false dawn, the moon-rise which makes winter in the Northern Marshes even remotely bearable, is still many hours away. Nevertheless, it is decided that they can wait no longer. And so they do what must be done, wading into the mud and the darkness, the midnight rain drumming against their faces as the people of Sanctuary silently watch them leave.

 

There is nothing exceptional about these conditions, of course. Long Night can last up to three terran-standard months, and even in high summer, constant cloud cover means that sunlight is a rare occurrence here. The people of the North endure the darkness just as they endure the perpetual rainfall. It is simply part of their existence, and those that cannot endure simply do not survive. Mire has always bred a hard, resilient and above all pragmatic people. However, these are still far from ideal conditions for an expedition of this kind.

 

As before, there are six members of the rescue party. And as before, there are five Wardens, each one blooded and experienced and comfortable in their Second Skin, along with a single squire to help carry their equipment. But unlike the previous expedition, the searchers are well armed this time. When the first party failed to return, the High Warden petitioned the Elders of Sanctuary to allow him to open the Arsenal. It is foolish, he argued, to squander the Town Guard so carelessly and needlessly. Not when they have more adequate means of self defence available. He is persuasive, and so their staves and auto-pistols have now been supplemented with more potent weapons: flechette launchers, chain-blades, even an ancient las-fusil that has seen better days. Only the squire, Wren, remains unarmed, save for the long knife that all Marsh-dwellers habitually wear. He is still unbloodied, yet to earn his place amongst the Guard and the right to carry weapons.

 

That will change, after this night.

 

Once clear of the settlement's flood lights, each Warden slips their photo-contacts into place, turning eyes completely white and rendering their vision in a harsh, grey monotone. The lenses are notoriously uncomfortable, despite being so-called advanced tech imported from off-world, but combined with their torches and lamp-packs, they will allow them to navigate the pitch blackness. A set of bulky night vision goggles, a primitive low-light visor utilised by the majority of the town's inhabitants, is provided for Wren.    

 

They each know that this is not really a rescue. It has already been far too long, and the loss of the first search party has confirmed what everyone in Sanctuary already feared.

 

They are here to recover the bodies, if they can be recovered. The people of the Marshes cremate their dead, if only as a last act of defiance against the rotting world in which they live. Alive or dead, if they can find the missing, they will bring them home.

 

And if possible, they will find and kill the predator responsible.

 

* * *

 

It is good to be home, the hunter realises. He moves quickly, ignoring the lingering pain of his recent injuries, stalking through the wetlands at a pace far beyond his mortal counterparts.  

 

Superficially at least, he resembles them. From his neck to his feet, he is clad in the same moisture-repellent body glove, the 'Second Skin' that protects every Marsh-dweller from constant water exposure. Without it, even his gene-enhanced physique would eventually fall victim to infection and ulceration. A loose hood keeps the worse of the elements off his head, although in truth, the feeling of rain against his face is refreshing rather than unpleasant. Amongst his brothers, the sensation is known sardonically as Mire's Welcome, but only the most dour would deny that they sometimes crave it's touch.

 

It has been a long time since he experienced Mire's Welcome. It is a long time since he felt anything except dust and ash against his face.

 

A small, waterproof satchel is slung at his side, containing recently acquired trophies and a few items essential to either his survival or his duty. The only other equipment he carries are a matched pair of long blades – cross sheathed against immensely broad shoulders. 

 

Unlike the searchers, he has no need for crude optical implants or night vision equipment. His sight is already enhanced, both genetically and mechanically, allowing him to see clearly in even the poorest light conditions. His other senses are equally acute, helping him to track prey and detect the nightmarish horrors that lurk unseen beneath the murk.  

 

He moves with practised ease, instinctively finding any solid ground amidst the quagmire. Where the land completely drowns, he simply strides through the dark water, sheer strength achieving what skill and field craft cannot. He was born and raised in this environment, and the physiological effects of his gene-forging have increased his stamina immeasurably.

 

Nevertheless, in this terrain it is not long before even he feels the effects of his exertions. His muscles burn, and his torso glistens with sweat leaching through the osmotic layers of the Second Skin. Breathing becomes laboured, as his chest tightens and the beat of his remaining heart become fast and irregular. 

 

He is still not as strong as he was. It is an unpleasant realisation, but not completely unexpected.

 

In truth, he knows he is lucky to be alive. The wounds he suffered were catastrophic, even for his kind. He should be dead, as the Apothecaries have told him repeatedly. Indeed, he was dead, at least for a while. That he survived long enough to be stabilised, to be brought back from the brink of the great abyss, is nothing short of miraculous. The weakness, like the scars and prosthetics he now bears, is a constant reminder of the damage he has endured.   

 

The mental wounds are perhaps the worse. Pain can be tolerated, and physical injuries will mend, or at least ease in time, but there are scars to his mind and his soul that will perhaps never heal. A distraction was needed, and for the Knights of Mire, there has always been a preferred method of recreation.

 

That is why he has returned home. To immerse himself in a simpler life. To run. To hunt. To kill.

 

But mostly, he is here to forget.

 

* * *

 

At the very edge of the settlement, where the hydroponic fields meet the desolation of wild marsh, they find the remains of the first victim.

 

They have divided into pairs to search the three main trails, the so-called 'Safe Roads' of reasonably solid ground that allow the population of Sanctuary to negotiate their territory. Amon and Jorah have taken the Western Path, the twin brothers as predictably inseparable as ever. Theon, the most proficient tracker amongst them, has accompanied Anya, the team leader, along the Great North Pass. Old Bron and Wren are patrolling the Eastern Road. Each pair is equipped with a bio-scanner, attempting to trace the pheromone signature of the missing town people. It is tedious work, and given the eternal rain and mud, unlikely to produce definitive results. However, searching the area where the disappearances began is the obvious first step. 

 

It is Wren who spots the stave, deeply sunken into the murky depths of a drainage channel. The blue-steel of the quarterstaff is barely visible, with only a few inches of it's six foot length protruding above the still, black waters. There is no mistaking the weapon though, as only the Wardens carry pole-arms of that kind. And no Warden would ever discard his staff of office so carelessly. 

 

The stave is embedded a few feet from the bank, almost within reach. Without thinking, Wren begins to lean forwards, stretching his arm out across the dark water, until his master's voice stops the youngster in his tracks.

 

“Stop boy!” In addition to his other duties, Bron is also Wren's mentor. The squire has learnt, somewhat painfully at times, to obey him without question. Instantly, he withdraws his hand. 

 

“Water's deep here,” the old man continues, “No telling what's beneath.” Bron has been a Warden for nearly forty terran-standard years, and whilst age has thinned his hair and soured his temperament, there is no doubting either his experience or wisdom.

 

“Hold this, and be careful” As he speaks, Bron extends his own quarterstaff across the span of water, holding it firmly with one hand whilst he smoothly draws his side-arm with the other. Aiming the revolver towards the eerily still water, he nods at the squire to proceed.

 

Wren takes hold of the proffered stave and, more cautiously this time, leans out across the channel. This time, his outstretched hand grasps the sunken quarterstaff, and he begins to pull.

 

It is not easy. The stagnant water does not readily give up it's prize. Slowly, inch by inch, the staff is pulled from it's resting place. But as it gradually emerges, so does something else.

 

A hand is still attached to the lower section of the stave, claw-like fingers locked in a death grip. The hand is attached to an arm, and the arm to a torso, all still contained by a glossy covering of Second Skin. Protected by the waterproof membrane, the body has hardly bloated despite it's submergence. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the corpse's head, which has swollen to nearly twice it's original size. Both eye sockets are empty, and the face is twisted into a grotesque grin. Despite this, there is no mistaking it's identity. The grossly distended features are clearly those of Warden-Sergeant Kell, the leader of the first search party.

 

The cause of death is easy to discern. Kell's torso has been severed in mid-thorax, his body cleanly cut in two. There is no sign of his lower body or legs. As they pull the corpse from the water, it is surprisingly light. Turning it round, they find that the torso is completely hollow, eaten away from the inside by the multitude of aquatic scavengers that inhabit Mire's wetlands.

 

To his credit, it is only when the first of the swamp-eels spills from Kell's open mouth that Wren throws up, vomiting uncontrollably onto the sodden earth.

 

Bron ignores the convulsing youngster, and the mass of slimy, worm-like creatures wriggling from the corpse back towards the dark water. There is only a single thought going through his thoughts at that moment. He has served as a Warden for a long time, and deep down, he knows what is responsible for this.

 

And he knows it will probably kill them all.

Edited January 28, 2016 by Spaced Hulk

[Stercus]

Good to see you back Hulk. Glad to see you've not lost your eye for a good conversion. Loving Kane, he's a beast.

[deathspectersgt7]

Thumbs up Brother . Great read.

[Spaced Hulk]

@ Stercus: Cheers mate. Kane is the Sword Bearer's Chapter Champion, a rank he maintains through constant honour duels with anyone who challenges him, so I'm glad he looks suitably brutal

@ deathspectersrg7: Thanks brother, working on part two now

Minor update today, as I continue to procrastinate over painting.

Veteran Sergeant Aron, 4th Tactical Squad, 6th Battle Company, Adeptus Astartes Sword Bearers

"So traitor, you believe you can escape the Emperor's judgement?"

"You think you can commit your foul, petty heresies, and that retribution will somehow pass you by."

"You pray to your false gods, begging that fortune will favour you, hoping against hope that the Knights of the First Legion will not find you."

"Tell me heretic, just how fortunate do you think you really are?"

* * *

Sorry about the dark pics, C&C welcome as always

Edited February 5, 2016 by Spaced Hulk

[Stercus]

The posing on that guy is great. Good stuff!

[Interrogator Stobz]

Yup, epic pose!!!

 

Paint???  ;)

[Tygwyn]

Great model!

[Spaced Hulk]

@ Stercus: Cheers mate!

@ Stobz: Thanks brother! On the painting front, I've managed to get most of my new models primed, does that count? In my defense, I'm suffering with Sciatica at the moment, which is making sitting at a desk for a prolonged period rather uncomfortable.

@ Tygwyn: Thanks mate!

Ok time for a weekly update. First of all, I've decided that my new army is going to be the 6th Battle Company (the Sword Bearer's don't do reserve companies), which means that the Captain I posted a few weeks ago will be called Issac Krell. I've actually built a model for him previously (during the 2014 ETL), which looked like this:

Issac Krell (Version One)

And here's the new one again:

Issac Krell, Master of the Sword Bearer's 6th Battle Company (Version Two)

So, I'm thinking I'll keep the original (probably re-based) as an alternative version of the good Captain. Both models are armed with a Foe-Smiter, but the close combat weapons (power fist vs relic blade) will allow me some different options.

Secondly, with the Captain sorted out, I've finished building his Command Squad. This has been an ongoing project since well before Christmas, but I'm quite happy with the finished result. Rather than acting as a bodyguard (which will instead be represented by a different unit, probably Vets), I've worked on the premise that this is a cadre of officers and specialists who assist Krell in running his Company. So I've used 32mm bases (all HQs will be getting these, whilst rank and file will mostly remain on 25mm's) and tried to make each model an individual. Names and background for each one will follow at a later date, probably when they're painted, so for now here are the pics:

Company Champion

Notes: I wanted the Champion to be both imposing and knightly, so I used a Forgeworld Mark III body as the base. I thought the broadswords from the RW command squad were a suitable representation of a Blade of Caliban.

Communications Officer

Notes: I've loved this model ever since Forgeworld released it, so it's basically unchanged apart from a different shoulder pad. Fluffwise, I think it makes sense for a Battle Company to have a dedicated Comm's officer, even if he won't actually have any in-game rules.

Apothecary

Notes: Again, one of my favorite Forgeworld models. He actually seems really large and imposing, so should be quite capable of hauling an injured Astartes out of harms way. Just need to drill the barrel of his bolt pistol to finish him off.

Standard Bearer

i

Notes: I've cheated a bit with this one, as I've actually nicked the banner (which I've always been quite proud of) from my previously completed standard bearer. My fluff for this character is that he's part of a group called the Ordinus Novi, a Knightly Order that's tasked with protecting all the Chapter's ancient relics, standards and heirlooms. Oh, and his ceremonial robes are laced with adamantine thread for extra protection, which is why the banner is catching in the wind but his robes are not

And finally, the Lieutenant

Notes: Basically the Second in Command of 6th Company. He's the one who keeps the Company running smoothly, who handles all the routine organisational stuff that Krell is much too important to do. Unlike the Captain and Champion models, I wanted him to be a straight forward, no-nonsense killer, rather than an inspiring figurehead or honourable knight. So he's got basic weapons (every army needs at least one model with a bolter & chainsword ) and probably the oldest, most well serviced Mark II plate in the whole Company.

And here's the group shot:

Thanks for looking, C&C welcome as always

Edited February 5, 2016 by Spaced Hulk

[egon1six]

Love that command squad!!!

[Interrogator Stobz]

:tu: :lol:

 

Awesome, but I do prefer the original Master Krell.

[deathspectersgt7]

Awesome, Like the new Captain .

[Greenz]

Man, I've been without internet at home and a broken Android for a little over a week. Finally get my new phone and I come back to a wall of updates here! Well worth the wait!

 

First off, the new command squad is fantastic. Every one of them looks like a hero in their own right. I'm especially loving Sgt Aron and your new lieutenant. Very grimdark. And maybe it's my phone, but the new standard bearer has a striking resemblance to one Vin Diesel...

 

I'm personally in the camp of liking your original master Krell, though I am biased. I've never enjoyed that new captain model, waaaaaaaay too many skulls

 

And that story was well worth the wait. Are we seeing a return of our old friend Aldous?

Edited February 6, 2016 by Greenz

[Spaced Hulk]

@ egon1six: Cheers mate!

@ Stobz: Thanks brother. Hopefully I'll be able to remove Krell Mark 1 from his old base without causing too much damage, and then I can use either version

@ deathspectersrg7: Cheers brother!

@ Greenz: Thanks mate, a squad of heroes is exactly what I was aiming for . I think you may have just named the Standard Bearer as well. There is indeed a lot of skulls on the new Captain model, but I still really like the pose (and the nostalgia of the classic Gamesday Captain it's based on).

Are we seeing a return of our old friend Aldous?

Time for my second update of the weekend. Here are the WIP pics of Sixth Company's 1st Tactical Squad. This was the first squad I completed for the new army, before Christmas actually, and so they're the first models in the painting queue. They will be painted soon. Hope you like them, C&C are welcome as always

Knight Sergeant Karl Lukas, Fourth of his Name, 'The Iron Armed', leader of First Tactical Squad.

Honoured Brother Sven Durinn, Standard Bearer, First Tactical Squad.

Archivist's Note: Each Tactical Squad in a Sword Bearers Battle Company has it's own Standard, carried by a highly honoured battle brother who is oath-sworn to protect it at all costs.

Knight Brother's Njall and Erasmus, Weapon Specialists, First Tactical Squad.

Preceptor-Brother Samuel, 'The Preacher', Second in Command of First Tactical, Initiate of the Chaplaincy.

Archivists Note: Although highly respected within First Squad for both his tactical acumen and natural leadership ability, Samuel's future appears to lie within the Sword Bearer's Chaplaincy, who have long noted his pious faith and earnest zeal for combat.

Knight Brother Edgar Vorn, Armourer and Quartermaster, First Tactical Squad.

Knight Brothers Isakur and Jorgen, First Tactical Squad.

Knight Brothers Hauker and Patrek, First Tactical Squad.

Tactical Squad Lukas, 'The Resolute', First Squad, Sixth Battle Company, Adeptus Astartes Sword Bearers.

Edited February 9, 2016 by Spaced Hulk

[deathspectersgt7]

New Tactical squad looks great Brother.

[Greenz]

That tactical squad has pure badassery written all over it, looking good there. Iron Armed in particular has quite the regal pose going on there.

[jbaeza94]

One thing I'll suggest. I believe squad leader and fire team leader sound more appropriate. I would associate the title commander with a slightly larger group, like a platoon. Essentially when you combat squad the Marines, the squad leader takes 4 with him, and the second in command, fireteam leader, takes his 4. This could by military background, but just my 2 cents

[Punk possum]

1st squad looks ace. My pick is specialist Nijall, I just love the pose.

I'm inclined to agree with jbaeza on the leaders titles. But I guess fire team leader doesnt quite chime with your knightly theme, in the 16th/17thC junior (or inferior as they were then called) NCO's were called variously Lanspassados or file leaders I've no idea if that helps but it might.    

[Spaced Hulk]

@ deathspectersrg7: Cheers brother!

@ Greenz: Thanks mate, I wanted them to look like a pretty grizzled bunch. The Sergeants pose is quite commanding, I kind of imagine him saying "You see that Ork Stompa over there brothers?....That's the one we're going to purge first!"

@ jbaeza94: Cheers mate. I'm probably showing my age with the squad titles - back in Second Edition 40k, the second in command of each marine squad was called a 'squad leader'. I agree it's always seemed a bit contradictory though, as the sergeant is obviously the one who's leading the squad . I've decided to borrow some of the titles from the Fire Hawks Chapter instead (from Imperial Armour 9), so the Second-in-Command's will now be called 'Preceptor-Brothers'. Preceptor means teacher or instructor, so it seems fairly appropriate considering the background I've got in mind for Samuel.

@ Punk possum: Thanks brother . The plasma gunner is pretty cool, I wanted him to look very calm and composed, despite the fact his own weapon could potentially immolate him every time he fires it!

Ok, quick update tonight, as I'm still writing the second part of False Dawn. Over the weekend, the views for this thread actually went over 100,000, which is frankly quite astonishing I'd like to thank everyone who've read or commented on my haphazard hobby progress, who've encouraged me with my writng, and who've motivated, advised and cajoled me into producing painted miniatures. You are all very much appreciated .

There's still plenty I want to do with this project, so here's a taster of some of the stuff I'm working on. Thanks for reading, C&C welcome as always.

As with all of Mire's Battle Companies, the veterans of the Spiteful Sixth are grouped into Knightly Orders, ancient warrior cults that have endured since the Chapter's founding. Highly skilled and experienced, these Knights form an elite cadre within the Company, and exist in addition to the ten codex-approved squads. It is for this reason that the standard operational strength of each Sword Bearer's War Company is so much higher (at least thirty per cent) than it's equivalent in a more conventional Chapter.

Recruiting their members from Sixth Company's Assault and Tactical units, each Order proudly maintains it's own traditions, heraldry and combat doctrine. Although highly accomplished warriors in their own right, the Astartes who are chosen to join these martial brotherhoods are quickly forged into a closely knit and highly effective fighting force. However, rivalry and competition between the different Orders is particularly intense, and appears to be tolerated and sometimes even encouraged by the Sword Bearer's Chaplaincy as a means of honing skills and increasing aggression.

Of the Spiteful's three surviving Knightly Orders, the largest and most renowned are the veterans of the Ebon Blade. Indeed, with adherents in each of the Seven Battle Companies, it is numerically the strongest Order in the entire Chapter, excluding of course the infamous Revenants of the Celerum Mortem. Taking it's name and heraldry from the ancient black longsword carried by the Chapter Master, the whole Order specialises in swordsmanship, and many of it's members are said to rank amongst the most accomplished blade masters in the Imperium. As a result, the Knights of the Ebon Blade act as Sixth Company's most potent assault unit, deployed wherever the fighting is fiercest to overwhelm any enemy in bloody melee combat.

Extract taken from 'The Legacy of the First Legion', written by Inquisitor Christoph Noekel, 759997.M41

Edited February 9, 2016 by Spaced Hulk

[cretacianborn]

Blown away by the command squad and the tacticals. Brilliant stuff, can't wait to see them painted up! 

[Brother Excedis]

Haha of course I pop smoke for a bit and come back to all of this. Excellent brother. The tactical marines are looking quite good. I like that they aren't too dynamic or too static. It's a nice in between. I'm especially fond of the "Preacher".

 

Also the fluff is excellent and as usual leaves us begging for more. I'm very curious as to what the predator is. I have my ideas.

 

Can't wait to see some paint on these guys.

[Interrogator Stobz]

PAINT!!!! ;)

[jbaeza94]

I'm digging the iron hands mkiii torso/head :) you've inspired me to try to be more dynamic in my poses, I hope they'll look half as good as yours

[Master Toddius]

That command squad is sick. great poses, love the use of the DV librarian conversion to standard bearer. Just all really well conceived. Been watching this thread from the shadows. Great stuff.