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

[Brother Immolator]

Get back to the honey moon dammit! We can wait....

Oh noes we cant, MOAR!

[Legio Draconis]

I just came across this thread and it has blown my mind. Great pacing, great use of the fluff just great over all. Favourite image so far was the revenants disembarking from the thunderhawk, just perfectly grimdark and such an original reworking of the ravenwing. Kudos sir. 

[Spaced Hulk]

Thanks guys
 

Get back to the honey moon dammit! We can wait....

Oh noes we cant, MOAR!

 
Money's a bit tight so we've only had a mini-honeymoon unfortunately. Hoping to go away again later in the year. Still, I'm off work all this week so having a decent break  
 

I just came across this thread and it has blown my mind. Great pacing, great use of the fluff just great over all. Favourite image so far was the revenants disembarking from the thunderhawk, just perfectly grimdark and such an original reworking of the ravenwing. Kudos sir.

Thanks mate, glad you liked the Revenants. Must admit, I'm looking forward to converting them. Have bought a load of skull helms from Anvil Industry so they're quite high on my to-do list

Edited April 3, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

The ten man squad was travelling down the side of a particularly massive dune, a hill of ash several hundred feet high. Progress was slow, each foot step sinking deeply into the dust. It was more akin to wading than walking, Aldous thought to himself. Visibility was also very poor, even with prey sight activated he could see only ten metres in front of them.

 

They were following an auspex trail. Harek, one of the most promising Neophytes in the squad, was on point, using a battered scanner to track their quarry through the dust storm. With vision so restricted, the scouts had slung their sniper rifles, drawing bolters and bolt pistols that would be more effective in these conditions. Aldous still carried his hunting rifle though, an oversized boltgun that had been converted to use heavy bolter rounds. Although the weapon could only fire single shots rather than fully automatic, it's stopping power was considerable. Not all of the rebels that had fled into the Ashlands had been merely human, and he felt more comfortable knowing that heavier firepower was to hand.

 

“I don't understand.” Harek's voice was slightly distorted by the vox, the dust that filled the air around them even affecting the narrow beam transmissions used for inter squad communication.“According to the auspex we should be right on top of them.”

 

“Sure you're reading it right?” Bryce, another Neophyte that showed great potential. There was a growing rivalry between the two, and neither missed an opportunity to disparage the other. Aldous hadn't interfered so far, as competition between the new recruits was actively encouraged as a way of honing their skills and abilities. Only if the rivalry became too disruptive or divisive would he be forced to rein in the banter.

 

“Think you can do better?” Harek snapped, his temper always the more easily goaded.

 

Ignoring their bickering, Aldous shouldered his rifle and unhooked his own auspex from his belt. Beneath his Errant helm, he frowned as he realised Harek was right. The scanner was reading multiple signals all around them. Even in the dust storm, at such close range their targets should have been clearly visible. Either the conditions were effecting their equipment far worse than he'd expected, or...

 

He was already moving as he shouted a warning, bringing his rifle to bear on the shifting ash beneath their feet. Suddenly the dune around them exploded outwards, sending the entire squad flying into the dust filled air.

 

***

The Ork dreadnought had been completely buried in the hillside, it's crude systems powered down, the alien pilot protected from the surrounding ash by the sealed crew compartment. Only life support and the walkers own sensors had been left active, passively scanning the dune above. The rebels knew they were being hunted, and so had left a trap for their pursuers.

 

Regaining full power with impressive speed, the dreadnought had erupted from it's hiding place. The force of it's emergence had displaced a huge section of the dune, the dust cloud exploding into the air like a detonating munition.

 

The walker was massive but ungainly. Standing over three times the height of a Space Marine, it's cylindrical body was covered with riveted steel plates and supported by hissing piston legs. Four mechanical arms emanated from it's armoured torso, each terminating in either brutal looking claws or a buzzing power saw. The skull of a huge, alien beast was lashed to the front of the vehicle, a pair of curved, elephantine tusks protruding amongst the flailing arms and crude sensor arrays.

 

It had not been alone in it's living burial. All around them, Orks clad in primitive environment suits were emerging from beneath the shifting dunes, ash streaming from their hulking exo-armour. Vicious chain blades and bulky, brutal looking firearms gleamed in their clawed hands.

 

Aldous knew that the rebel forces had included alien mercenaries, but these were the first Orks he'd seen since the deployment had begun. As he was thrown bodily into the air, he cursed his lack of foresight.

 

The Mentor crashed back onto the slope and began rolling, the gradient and the weight of his power armour keeping his momentum going. As he tumbled, he saw others of his squad falling around him. Bryce was closest, coughing and choking from the dust, his breath mask and goggles torn from his face in the chaos. The ash was fluid beneath them, giving no resistance to their uncontrolled descent.

 

Even as he fell, Aldous heard the gunfire.

Edited April 3, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

Blackness. He could see nothing but blackness. His visor was dark. Internal displays were non functional.

 

Silence. There was no sound. No vox signal, not even static.

 

He realised he had no idea where he was, or how he had got there.

 

For a moment, Aldous wondered if this was death. Like all Astartes, he had always been pragmatic about his own mortality. Death was simply an inevitability; indeed, it was the only certainty any of his kind could expect. He had never wasted time wondering what happened afterwards. It would be the last, perhaps greatest adventure he would take in a life that had never been short of surprises. Whatever fate ultimately awaited him, he would face it when the time came, not before.

 

All the same, if this was death, it was not what he would have expected.

 

All these thoughts raced through his mind in less than ten seconds.

 

Suddenly, like a fog clearing in the morning sun, his memory returned.

 

He remembered.

 

***

The projectile, probably a large calibre solid slug round, had struck his Mark VIII helm even as he rolled down the seemingly never-ending slope of the ash dune. A direct hit, straight between the eyes. It had to have been a lucky shot. Orks, even in the best of conditions, were not known for their marksmanship.

 

Incredibly, it had not penetrated. Power armour was highly resilient, but certain locations, particularly the helm, were more vulnerable than others. It was not unknown to survive a direct head shot, but nor was it a certainty. Of course, if he hadn't been wearing full plate, if he had worn scout armour for this mission as he had originally intended, then his skull would now be lying in a thousand pieces amongst the ashes of the Iris Sector's population.

 

Reaching up with both hands, he forcibly disconnected the mangled helm from his gorget. It was not easy, the kinetic energy of the shot had twisted the helmet into a completely different shape, one which did not want to be removed from it's seal. Eventually he wrenched it free, and sight and sound returned in a rush.

 

As did the dust storm. The contrast was absolute, from experiencing near total sensory deprivation Aldous was now bombarded by sensation. The desert winds screamed in his ears, while ash particles lashed against his face like razors. Instinctively he had held his breath as he'd removed the ruined helm, but he would need to find some sort of respirator quickly.

 

The first thing he saw was his bolt-rifle, half covered in ash just a few feet away. The second thing he saw was Neophyte Mores, lying motionless behind the weapon. A wound, a great vertical tear, split the recruits torso from shoulder to groin. It was not a clean cut: carapace armour, flesh, muscle and bone had all been ripped rather than sliced, chewed through rather than hewn. A chain blade then. Blood was still pumping from the wound, dust particles sticking to the fluid as it pooled around the body, turning it into a grey sludge. The killer must still be close, Aldous realised. He reached for his rifle.

 

An armoured boot stamped down, kicking the boltgun out of reach. The Ork's bulk cast a shadow over him, blocking out what little light was penetrating the ash storm. Covered in crudely fashioned steel plates, the alien was massive, one of their leader caste presumably. It gripped a two handed chain axe tightly in it's gnarled, clawed fingers, the teeth of the weapon still clogged with chunks of ash greyed meat.

 

A clear face plate covered it's bestial, porcine features. Aldous stared straight into black, malicious eyes. It was laughing, he realised. It's maw, a gaping hole filled with sharpened yellowed tusks, was grinning widely as it laughed. The sound was stolen by the howling wind around them, but he could see spittle spraying against the inside of the breathing mask as the creature convulsed in it's amusement.

 

It was still laughing as he rammed his combat blade through the gap between two armour plates, straight into it's abdomen.

 

The beast's grin became a grimace of pain, then of fury. It raised it's chain axe high, bringing it down in a killing blow aimed at Aldous's head.

 

He was not there. The shrieking chain blade chewed wildly into the ash, throwing the beast off balance. Rolling to his left, he grabbed the rifle with one hand, raised, aimed and fired, all in one quick, continuous movement.

 

The hunting rifle was intended to be used two handed, for the recoil caused by firing heavy bolter rounds was immense. As Aldous pulled the trigger, the stock of the weapon slammed into his arm. Even with Astartes physiology, without his power armour to absorb the recoil it would have certainly dislocated his shoulder. There was no way the weapon could be accurately fired with one hand.

 

The Ork was only a few feet away. He couldn't miss. The beast's head simply exploded, pulped into nothing by the blast. For a second the headless corpse swayed, leaning on the chain glaive embedded in the ash, then, like a falling colossus, it collapsed into the dust and lay still.

 

With less reverence than he would have wished, Aldous removed the breathing mask, respirator unit and dust visor from the body of Neophyte Mores and quickly fitted them in place. Only then did he release the breath he had been holding.

 

The sound of bolter fire, barely audible against the screaming desert wind, drifted down from above. Raising the rifle, Aldous became to climb the dune once more.

Edited September 1, 2014 by spacedhulk

[eetdestroyer]

Good to see you back man \m/

[Spaced Hulk]

Gathering together in a loose semi-circle, the survivors surrounded the last Kommando. Only four Neophytes had escaped the Ork ambush, and they all bore wounds to mark the encounter, several of them severe.

 

Five of them had not been so fortunate. Hewn apart by crude blades or riddled with heavy calibre bullets, they were gradually being consumed by the desert. Fine ash, falling like rain, building up layer upon layer over their bloodied remnants. The dead shrouding the dead.

 

There was a certain, grim satisfaction in this execution.

 

The Ork should be dead already. Bolter fire had already removed most of the left side of it's body, eliminating the beast's primitive firearm and it's mobility in the process. It wasn't dead though. Not even close. It's frenzied snarls were audible even over the shrieking desert winds and the revving chainsword it swung furiously in it's remaining hand. The sheer resilience of the creatures was always impressive, Aldous thought to himself.

 

As one, without instruction or encouragement, the squad aimed their weapons. Bolters and bolt pistols, the weapons they would use and master throughout their careers. Those that survived anyway.

 

Attrition and casualty rates were always high amongst the Sword Bearers, as much a result of their temperament as the harshness of their deployment zone. They each inherited the same stubborn determination that characterised all Sons of the First Legion, and it was a trait that had threatened the Chapter's survival many times in the past. Mortem Ante Ignobilitate. Death before dishonour.

 

Tenth Company was no exception. Each scout and neophyte, despite their inexperience, was still expected to fight and die like any other battle brother. It was considered an essential part of the training process. Fortis Laminae Tolerare. The strong blades endure.

 

Aldous hadn't joined them in the firing line. This was their kill, their recompense. They had fought hard to get to this point. As the bolters roared and the brute exploded in a shower of blood and gore, the Mentor turned away. Hunting down the last few Kommandos had been a distraction, but there was still a bigger problem to deal with.

 

A hundred feet below on the slope of the ash dune, the Ork dreadnought was once again slowly lumbering towards them.

 

***

Despite the sudden fury of it's appearance, they had been able to simply avoid the Dread so far. It's colossal weight drove each footstep deep into the shifting ash, reducing it's speed and mobility to practically nothing. Only the immense power of it's pneumatic limbs enabled it to have any movement whatsoever. It was easy to outmanoeuvre.

 

Damaging the alien machine was another matter. Bolter fire was completely ineffective, and even the Mentor's rifle could not penetrate the armoured shell. Krak grenades, the most powerful ordinance in the squad's arsenal, were the obvious weapon to use against the walker, but getting close enough was problematic. The charges needed to be strategically placed for optimal effect, which meant moving within range of the brutally effective claws and saw blades. Harek had been the last to try, and after seeing his most promising Neophyte ripped into pieces, Aldous had forbidden any more attempts. Approaching the Dreadnought head on was suicide.

 

As he watched the machine slowly getting closer and closer, the Mentor realised that courage alone would not defeat this foe. The Lion himself had taught that sacrifice, although sometimes a necessity, should never be futile. There must always be a reason for your actions. Death, no matter how glorious, should always achieve something.

 

It was a philosophy that all his brothers would do well to remember, Aldous mused.

 

Watching the Ork machine struggling to climb the ash slope, he smiled briefly to himself.

 

There were always alternatives.

Edited April 9, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

Aldous stood alone at the top of the dune. The dust storm which had assailed them since their arrival had, miraculously, abated, slightly improving both the air quality and visibility. From this vantage point, he could see the Ashlands stretching from horizon to horizon; an endless, undulating grey desert.

 

Forty metres below, the Dreadnought lumbered towards him, closing the distance as quickly as the treacherous conditions underfoot would allow.

 

He was down to his last clip of heavy bolter ammunition. With only five rounds left, every shot needed to count. He had also salvaged a boltgun from one of the fallen Neophytes, but doubted it would be much use against the walker's heavy armour. Taking careful aim through the rifle's sniper scope, he began to fire.

 

It was almost impossible to miss the steel behemoth, but it's frantic movements and clumsy, hobbling gait through the ash meant that hitting it accurately was extremely difficult. The first two rounds struck the heavily protected crew compartment and ricocheted away. The Dread continued to climb.

 

Thirty metres away. The next round hit one of the great curved tusks protruding from the walkers torso, detonating in a shower of bone fragments.

 

The fourth shot finally hit it's mark. Each of the Dread's four close combat arms were powered by crude hydraulic motors and actuators. The heavy bolter round smashed into the shoulder joint of the machine's upper right arm, destroying the hydraulics in an explosion of oil and metal. The flailing arm instantly stopped moving, the snapping power claw frozen in place and suspended high in the air.

 

Twenty metres now. The final round ricocheted from the armour protecting the upper left arm. Without hesitation, Aldous dropped the rifle and brought up the Neophyte's boltgun. Switching to full auto, he aimed at the same location and opened fire, emptying the magazine in seconds. The bolt rounds exploded in a thunderous salvo against the armoured torso, shattering the great skull trophy strapped to it's chest but inflicting no other damage.

 

The Dreadnought was ten metres away. Seeing it's target so close, the walker's vox speakers emitted a deep, mechanical roar; it's pace quickening as it made one final surge forwards.

 

Aldous remained stationary, despite his every instinct telling him to fall back from the massive steel beast charging towards him. Deftly loading a fresh magazine in place, he opened fire once more, bolts hammering into the Dread's upper left shoulder. Suddenly, one of the rounds hit something vital, possibly a fuel line, and the whole hydraulic joint exploded, the buzz saw arm it controlled falling limp against the machine's side.

 

Undaunted by the damage, the Dreadnought stormed onwards, it's remaining two arms reaching forwards in a killing embrace. Five metres.

 

The Ork machine took one final step before the dune exploded in a cloud of fire and ash.

 

***

The krak grenades had been buried immediately in front of the Mentor's position, linked together and set with proximity fuses. As they detonated, Aldous dropped the bolter and raised his arms, shielding his exposed face against the blast.

 

***

 

Time stood still. He watched as the Dreadnought pitched forward into the dust, both mechanical legs severed by the explosion. The two lower arms, the machine's last functioning limbs, continued to thrash and flail even as the massive armoured torso crashed into the ash dune.

 

In his peripheral vision, the Mentor saw the four surviving Neophytes emerge from the ash on either side of the fallen walker. Like the grenades, they had been hidden beneath the surface of the dune, their camo cloaks wrapped around them like funeral shrouds.

 

Each Scout was armed with a single krak grenade, the last in the squads arsenal. As the Dread struggled to raise itself on it's remaining arms, the Neophytes rushed forward, magnetically clamping the explosives to the vehicles hull. They just had time to sprint away before the charges detonated, obliterating the Ork machine in a furious conflagration of fire, smoke and sundered metal. The shock wave threw Aldous and his squad to the ground, shrapnel mixing with the ash and dust that rained down around them.

Edited April 12, 2013 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

YEAH !!! dead fungus in a can!!!

[Raven Angel]

Wow just wow man

[Spaced Hulk]

The dust storm had returned with a vengeance, reducing visibility to practically nothing. Aldous waited amidst the wreckage. The Ork Dreadnought had been comprehensively destroyed, leaving nothing but shredded armour plates and mangled machinery strewn across the surface of the dune. The ash was already claiming the remains, the shifting surface gradually swallowing the ruined walker.

 

This was a truly pernicious place, he thought. Beyond the harshness of the environment, the Ashland seemed to literally consume life, devouring all those that fell here beneath it's constantly changing surface. Throughout his long career, Aldous had served in many abhorrent war zones, from irradiated nuclear wastelands to corrosive chemical seas, but this desert was particularly loathsome and soul destroying. He would be glad to leave, the Mentor realised.

 

He had requested an extraction. Considering the opposition, it had been an impressive victory, but a costly one nonetheless. Although the survivors were arguably still fit for action, the casualties the squad had suffered, combined with the sheer amount of ammunition and ordinance they had expended, meant that for the moment at least, their mission was over. A Thunderhawk was en route to retrieve them.

 

The remaining Neophytes were currently out of sight, searching for their fallen comrades down the sloping bank of the dune. Aldous suspected that he had given them an impossible task, but he would not willingly abandon any son of Mire to such a desolate final resting place.

 

Against the howling wind, his enhanced hearing picked up the faint sound of jet turbines. It was difficult to determine their  direction, but gradually a dark shape appeared in the dust laden sky. Checking that the homing beacon was still broadcasting, the Mentor sent a vox signal to Bryce and the other remaining Scouts. Their ride was here.

 

As the craft closed the distance between them, it's outline gradually became clearer and more distinct. The Mentor frowned momentarily as he realised that the dimensions were all wrong. As was it's colour scheme and markings.

 

It wasn't a Thunderhawk.

 

***

The jet black flyer hovered several metres from the top of the dune, it's landing jets on continuous burn, blasting huge quantities of ash and dust into the air. Missile racks gleamed under each short wing, and a dorsal mounted turret armed with twin plasma cannons rotated and locked onto the Mentor's position.

 

It was a Night Raven, a variant of the ubiquitous Storm Raven gunship used by so many Astartes chapters. Smaller than a Thunderhawk but still heavily armed and armoured, the Night Raven was a fast, agile predator that retained some of it's larger cousin's transport capacity.

 

Amongst the Sword Bearers, Night Ravens were fielded exclusively by the Revenants of Second Company.

 

Shielding his face from the constant barrage of dust, Aldous watched as the Raven's disembarkation ramp lowered, allowing two armoured figures to drop to the dune's surface and start walking briskly towards him.

 

The pair were a study in contrast, similar in form and yet glaringly different. They each wore a baroque suit of power armour, weapons sheathed at their sides, with war helms fashioned in the aspect of a grinning skull. But while one was clad in plate as black and morbid as the gunship they had emerged from, the other wore armour as white as bone. Together, Aldous mused, they represented the very soul of his Chapter. Twin angels of light and darkness, of redemption and death. It was a visual representation of the struggle that permeated his existence.

 

Already he could feel the Shadow tainting his thoughts, the psychic aura emanating from the approaching ebon clad warrior. Fortunately the Scouts were still some distance away; unlike their Mentor, they would be totally unprepared for the mental assault of the Revenant. Instinctively, he began to recite the Catechism of Salvation, the litanies of self protection he had memorised as a member of First Company. Most of the Chapter believed that it was their terminator plate which protected them from the Shadow. It was a logical assumption to make; indeed, before his promotion, Aldous had assumed exactly the same thing. How else were the two Companies able to work together so closely? Like all Penitents, Aldous had found many of his preconceptions shattered when he had advanced to the First, and the true nature of their resistance to the Revenant's psychic aura was relatively inconsequential compared to many of the secrets he had learned.

 

In fact, no physical armour could deflect the psychic assault. Mental fortitude was the only defence, and even then, it needed to be enhanced and strengthened to become truly effective. Emotion was the key. Just as the Shadowcasters projected fear, doubt and despair into their victim's mind, so other, equally powerful emotions could override the psychic barrage. Anger, hatred, wrath; these were the means by which the Penitent's kept the Shadow at bay. Entrusted with secrets both ancient and terrible, such emotions were especially easy to nurture within the brooding warriors of First Company. Controlling them was the difficult part, Aldous had found. It was all too easy to allow rage and hatred to dominate his thoughts, to cloud his judgement. This was a mental battle he fought almost on a daily basis, one which contact with the Revenants brought into a bitterly sharp focus.

 

***

As they reached his position, the warrior in black raised his hands into the air, warp lightning crackling around his armoured gauntlets. A shield of invisible, impenetrable force materialised around the three of them, creating a bubble of calm and silence amongst the shrieking winds of the dust storm. It was easy to forget that the Casters were potent psykers in their own right, that the Shadow they created was just one of their abilities.

 

With the force dome in place, Aldous removed his dust visor and respirator. Although he was older and more experienced than either of the two officers in front of him, technically they were still his superiors. Rank must be honoured, traditions must be observed. However, he suspected that ritual obeisance was not the only reason the psychic shield had been raised. The dome did not just serve to keep the storm out, it also prevented all sound escaping from within the bubble. Whatever the three of them were to speak about, it would be for their ears alone.

 

“Hail Brothers.” The Mentor raised his arm in salute. As he expected, the Revenant didn't answer or acknowledge him. They rarely communicated with anyone outside their Order. Even as a Penitent, whenever the two Companies had fought side by side, it had been a rare occurrence to hear one of them speak. Whether it was a result of tradition, ignorance or arrogance, Aldous did not know. Secretly, he suspected it was all three.

 

“Hail Sergeant” The warrior in white returned the salute, then reached up and removed his skull helm. The face beneath was gaunt and heavily scarred. Cold grey eyes, as focused as lasers, scrutinised the Mentor's face. The mask he wore was actually an improvement over his natural features, Aldous thought to himself.

 

“You've been busy, I see.” The bone clad warrior continued, motioning towards the wreckage of the Dreadnought.

 

“Aye, Brother Interrogator. We had not expected such heavy resistance. Casualties have been higher than I anticipated.” When dealing with the most senior members of the Reclusiam, Aldous knew it was wise to be truthful at all times. The Interrogators, it was said, could sense deceit or deception instantly. Of all the Chapter's Chaplains, only the most noble and devout were chosen to wear the white armour of the Interrogator. It was somewhat ironic, the Mentor had always believed, that the purest of heart should be selected to perform the blackest of deeds.

 

“Unfortunate, but not unexpected in the circumstances.” The Interrogator shrugged.“The dead will be honoured, the strong will survive. Fortis Laminae Tolerare.” Clearly, Aldous thought, the recent battle was not the reason for the Chaplain's arrival. A suspicion began to form in his mind.

 

“We were expecting an extraction?” The Mentor queried, his mind racing. As always, it was hard to concentrate in the presence of a Revenant, conflicting emotions of rage and fear, despair and hatred embroiling his thoughts. All the same, he could see where this conversation was leading.

 

“Indeed. A Thunderhawk will be here shortly to return your squad to the Southern deployment zone.” The Interrogator's stare was intense, as though he was looking beyond the Mentor's features and into his very soul.

 

“You, however, are to return with us to the fleet. Your presence is required immediately by the Chapter Council. Priority code Alpha Omega One.” There was no hint of emotion in the Chaplain's voice, despite the importance of his message. It had been a long time since the Mentor had heard that particular code. The hatred within him flared even stronger, taking all his willpower to keep it under control. He nodded his assent as the Interrogator continued.

 

“It would appear your skills are needed once again, Pathfinder Aldous.”

Edited April 14, 2013 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

Well done brother.I like Aldous I could feel his anger in the story even when the night raven pointed its weapons at him.It  would have pissed me off  .Once again well done.

[Spaced Hulk]

Vid Capture: Unknown Battle Psyker, designation 'Shadowcaster', Sword Bearers 2nd Company. Image recorded by night vision surveillance drone during the siege of the Phormian Necropolis, Iris Campaign, 723.M41

++ IMAGE ZOOM ENABLED

Edited September 1, 2014 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

Great job brother 

[Brother Excedis]

Very impressive fluff to support equally impressive writing. This is incredible if I may say so myself. The minis look exceptionally well kit-bashed and I can't wait to see them painted.

[Spaced Hulk]

Thanks guys  Currently working on the next part of Aldous's story and converting Balian's Veterans from the first short story.

[Brother Excedis]

If you don't mind my prying...do you plan on making an actual army out of this? If you answered that previously and I missed it I am sorry. But I feel as if an army based on this concept would be quite striking, especially if you keep up the kit bashing you've shown us so far.

[Spaced Hulk]

No worries, pry away In answer to your question, yes, I fully intend for this to develop into a full army. To be honest, I've alternated between collecting different established Chapters for years (literally), always struggling to maintain my initial enthusiasm (partly because I find particular elements of many marine chapters appealing).

 

Always had a bit of a soft spot for the Dark Angels though (the original Angels of Death Codex was the first 40K book I ever bought), so when the new Codex was released, I decided to put all my efforts into the Unforgiven. I'd built a few models (which you can see in my gallery) and was trying to decide which Successors to make them when it occurred to me that I'd never tried to create my own Chapter, I'd always focussed on ones which already existed in the background. Closest I'd got previously was when I tried writing an IA article for the Brotherhood of Angels competition last year, and even then I'd picked an already named Chapter (the Night Watch) to expand upon.

 

Basically I had an idea and started writing, and pretty much haven't stopped  What I'm finding is that as I keep on writing, the character of the Sword Bearers is becoming more and more distinct, as one idea leads to another. For example, when I started this thread, the Second Company was just a fairly normal Ravenwing equivalent, it was only through writing the fluff and stories that the Revenants evolved. What's quite cool is that it's also giving me ideas for the army itself. For example, the Revenants won't just be represented by normal RW, but also by allied units from the Blood Angels codex, while for the RW Dark Shroud, I'm planning a conversion of the Land Speeder Storm kit with a Shadowcaster mounted in the crew compartment rather than Scouts.

 

Obviously, most of the thread so far has been fluff and fiction, mainly because between the wedding and work, I've been able to find more time for writing than modelling/painting recently. Hopefully as time goes by, especially after the Chapter's background story reaches it's conclusion, the emphasis will switch more to the army itself.

 

Sorry about my long winded reply, and thanks once again for reading

Edited April 17, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Brother Excedis]

Why allied BA units? Also why not just put a modeled librarian in the darkshroud model instead of that weird statue thingy?

 

Have to say though for just developing as you go it seems more like you have had a lot of previous development time.

[Spaced Hulk]

Always liked Assault Marines, and BA ones are currently the most effective. As for the Dark Shroud, one of the themes I'm going for with the Chapter is that they're isolated from the Dark Angels & other Unforgiven, and therefore will have developed in different ways and will have different equipment. The Dark Shroud/Landspeeder Vengeance are unique to the DA, so I'm thinking the Sword Bearers wouldn't have access to them.

 

As for the development time thing, I've always done a fair bit of 40K writing which I suppose helps. Years back I helped write the Knights of the Order fluff which Shadowguard has on his website. Writing the Night Watch IA was helpful too, even though looking back at it now, some of it seems a bit cliched.

Edited April 17, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Brother Excedis]

Seems to make sense. Practice makes perfect I suppose 

 

Ok that makes sense.....now does that mean you are excluding the vengeance and other such "newer" stc concepts? Personally I could see where they would just fit in perfectly.....now mind you I also have not written my own IA successfully, much to my chagrin, so I wouldn't necessarily know exactly what to do for such things.

[recon0321]

Spaced hulk

 

Was the IA you wrote with SG similar to something like the legio that B&C uses except only from DA successors? If so I remember that it was awesome I wish I could still find it

[Spaced Hulk]

Essentially yes. The Knights were basically a DA version of Deathwatch.

 

At the time (scarily, we're talking about during 4th or possibly even 3rd Edition 40K  ) GW had just allowed DA Chapters to use the Deathwatch Kill Team rules for the first time. At that point, DA armies had no form of official power armoured veterans at all, so being able to use a new elite unit caught our collective imaginations. It didn't seem that fluffy to use normal Deathwatch with a Dark Angels army, so we created our own background that the Deathwatch rules would then 'count as'.

 

The Knights fluff is still up on Shadow Guard's website, and I'm sure he won't mind me posting a link:

 

http://fortressofunforgiven.homestead.com/CH03_05HoU_001_A.html

 

It's worth looking around the Fortress, still one of the very best DA sites on the net

Edited April 18, 2013 by spacedhulk

[elphilo]

Quick question. The skull helm, is that one of Anvil Industry's Skull Helmets? Only reason I ask is because I recently ordered one of their hooded skull sprues and I was just wondering how it looked in terminator armor. Oh also are you keeping the GK Book & Sword as chapter iconography, as well as the blood drops? Or do you have plans to change it?

 

As always great work and I can't wait for more of the story

[Spaced Hulk]

It is one of Anvil's heads, I've bought the hooded skull sprue too. To be honest, I can't fault anything I've bought from Anvil yet. The quality of the casts, the customer service, it's all been top notch. I'm currently using one of their robed Exo Lords to convert Balian. Only thing I don't like is that I'd forgotten what a pain in the **** super glue is to use compared to plastic glue. Reminds me of when I first got into 40K, and trying to stick the old metal marine kits together.

 

I am using the GK book and sword as Sword Bearer iconography. The actual Chapter symbol is just a single sword displayed vertically (basically the pads you get in the Company Veteran box), but I'm using the GK symbol to represent membership of the Inner Circle. My thinking is the book symbolises knowledge of the Dark Angel's past.

 

As for the blood drop, to be honest I'm being lazy and calling it the Shadowcaster's personal heraldry  . There are also blood drops on the jump pack to tie in with the one on his chest plate. I'm thinking of painting them in quite dark colours and calling them tear drops (eg: the psyker weeping for the sins of his Legion). If I could manage it, I'd then also paint a tear drop on the cheek of the skull helm, but it's a really tiny area and I'm not sure my meagre painting skills are up to the task 

Edited April 18, 2013 by spacedhulk