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

[Dark Rage]

Some very cool looking miniatures really like the roman style swords and not only that but I always like seeing duel wielded swords.

 

Great stuff!

 

DR

[Spaced Hulk]

Thanks mate!  If I can paint them even half as well as your Consecrators, I'll be happy

[Spaced Hulk]

Oily smoke billowed from the ruined shell of the Chimera, curling and twisting in snake-like tendrils around Balian and his squad. The noxious black fumes reeked of burning promethium, leaving an acrid taste in their mouths despite the purifying effects of war helm filters.

Behind them was a scene of unmitigated carnage. The burning hulls of hundreds of tanks and armoured vehicles were strewn across the valley floor. Combat had effectively ended nearly twenty minutes before, but Balian knew it would be days before the flames were finally extinguished. Amongst the destruction, blood soaked bodies lay scattered like discarded marionettes. An eerie calm had descended upon the battlefield; the sudden, incongruous silence in stark contrast to the preceding violence.

 

Through the smoke, he could occasionally see dark shapes moving. Revenants, prowling through the graveyard of wrecked vehicles in search of survivors. Almost half of Second Company, specifically the airborne assault and jump teams, had already pressed on, continuing their attack against city's defences. Even now they were fighting their way along the forts and battlements of the curtain wall, butchering those few defenders who had not fled in the wake of the Shadow. The remaining Celerem Mortem infantry and mounted squadrons had formed up in loose ranks before the walls, although several units had been assigned to search through the debris. Their mission, like Balian's own orders, was clear and unequivocal. There must be no survivors.

 

His squad had been the first members of Third Company to reach the black clad warriors. One of the gunners, Alain, had stowed his heavy bolter and taken over from the servitor controlling the Rhino. Balian had to admit that Gripe, despite his perpetual grumbling, was a superlative pilot and driver, skilfully weaving the vehicle through the tangled wreckage of the battlefield with ease. In many Chapters, such an innate talent would have seen him permanently attached to the Armourium's vehicle pool. However, amongst the Battle Companies of the Sword Bearers, dwindling numbers and the notoriously high casualty rate meant that each Space Marine was far too valuable to reassign from front-line combat duties. Instead, the majority of the Chapter's armoured vehicles and transports were primarily crewed by neophytes or servitors, with full battle brothers only assuming control when either circumstances or mission demanded it.

 

They had stopped at the edge of the battlefield and disembarked, keeping at least thirty metres away from the assembled Revenants. Even at that range, the Shadow was a constant presence, a dark, oppressive cloud of doubt and depression that dulled senses and clouded thoughts. They were quite close enough, Balian thought to himself.

 

Towering above them were the immense, adamantium gates of the Necropolis. Unfortunately, they were still intact. Breaching them would not be easy.

 

"Going to take a long time to burn through that." It was Claudin who spoke first, cradling his bulky multi-melta closer to his breastplate. As usual, his voice was a strange, metallic rasp, the result of a damaged vox transmitter in his Mark VI helm that the Techmarines seemed unable to fully repair. "Better get the Vindicators over here quickly."

 

"They're on their way." It was Elyon, the other Firestorm gunner, who replied, motioning towards the far side of the battlefield. The siege tanks, each equipped with a massive dozer blade, were slowly pushing their way through the wreckage, creating a path for both themselves and the silver Land Raider that followed closely behind. As the personal transport of the Master of Third Company, the vehicle's shining colour scheme and heraldry matched that of their Captain. Balian assumed that Lord Orbec wanted to lead the advance into the city himself.

"They won't work either." Alain said flatly, habitually ejecting and then reloading the ammo drum of his heavy bolter. "I've seen this before. Those gates are conversion shielded, even a Demolisher shell won't penetrate. We'd be better off trying to blast a hole through the walls themselves."

 

"Always so negative." Balian sighed, the injury to his throat making his voice as hoarse and strained as Claudin's defective vox. Even though Gripe was probably right, his pessimism was both incessant and frustrating. "Have a little faith brother."

 

Suddenly, a movement on the ridge above caught Balian's attention. "Besides," he growled through his damaged voice box, "it looks like Second Company have their own method to breach the gates."

 

Like some immense, wounded beast returning to it's lair, the Doomhammer slowly lumbered towards the Necropolis once more.

 

***

 

They were searching for him.

 

Even though they couldn't see him, they knew he was there somewhere. He could hear the Enforcers shouting to each other, struggling to make themselves heard over the thunderous din of the temple.

 

Fortunately the false hood camouflage had remained active, despite the incredible power of the psychic assault. Aldous was still invisible, at least to conventional sight.

 

Ultorum lay out of reach, several metres to his right. Outside the cloaking shield generated by his armour, the modified shotgun was completely visible. As he watched, a cultist tentatively picked up the weapon, struggling to lift it's considerable weight.

 

His entire body ached from the force it had been subjected to. As he began to raise himself up from the flagstones of the temple floor, ignoring the whimpering bodies that had crashed down alongside him, Aldous could see the Fallen Angel pointing furiously in his direction. The Pathfinder didn't know how the traitor was able to sense his presence, although it was obviously related to his warp spawned abilities. That the psychic nature of his prey had remained hidden was both surprising and disturbing. Hidden or undisclosed, Aldous wondered cynically. For now though, he didn't try to analyse this disquieting turn of events. He didn't have time.

 

A Necropean Enforcer was only a few feet away, cautiously moving straight towards him. The rebel's cowl had been thrown back, revealing a face almost completely replaced with bionics. The handiwork, no doubt, of the regime's Mechanicus allies. Ocular implants clicked and whirled as the Necropean scanned the ground around him. The Enforcer obviously understood that his target was invisible, and was searching through different spectrums in a vain attempt to find him.

 

Conventional wisdom told the Pathfinder to withdraw, to hide amongst the immense crowd behind, to use the precious false hood technology to escape. With the Fallen now aware of his presence, that was no longer an option.

 

The Necropean was right above him, still oblivious to the massive Astartes warrior laying prone at his feet. Aldous punched his right arm upwards, triggering the blade gauntlet mechanism but leaving the power generator inactive. Even without the energy field, the gladius easily penetrated the rebel's carapace armour, stabbing straight through bones, flesh and lungs. As the Necropean toppled backwards, the blade still protruding from his back, the Sword Bearer used the momentum of the falling body to pull himself upright.

 

A las-beam flashed just inches from his head, hitting a cultist behind him in the chest. The energy flare was so close that Aldous could feel the heat against his face. Looking up, he saw two more Enforcers, each aiming a hellgun in his direction. They couldn't see him, but they could see their fallen comrade, and were firing wildly at where they correctly presumed the Pathfinder was now standing. As he activated the power field of the blade gauntlet, ripping it free from the corpse with a hiss of evaporating blood, another bolt of crimson energy clipped his left shoulder pad. For a second the false hood flickered, momentarily leaving him visible before the camouflage reactivated.

 

Aldous instantly dived to his right as a flurry of high powered las-beams cut through the air where he'd stood. He was moving again the moment he hit the floor, snatching Ultorum from the bewildered cultist as he ran. As the Enforcers turned, trying to reacquire their target, he dropped into a crouch and raised the shotgun in both hands. At just five metres away, he couldn't miss. Like the boltguns used by Sternguard Veteran squads, Ultorum was loaded with a variety of different ammunition types, which it's user could select by rotating the shotgun's drum magazine. After the shock of the Fallen's psychic assault, Aldous wasn't actually certain which ammo was currently chambered. He pulled the trigger anyway.

 

It was an Absolution round, experimental flechette ammunition created in the Chapter's own forges. The round exploded into a hundred, tiny, hardened steel darts; each one fin stabilised and tipped with a time delayed micro-explosive. In effect, Aldous had just launched a hundred miniature boltgun rounds at close range. As the sub-munitions detonated, both Enforcers, along with three nearby cultists, simply burst apart, their bodies erupting in a spectacular shower of blood, shrapnel and mutilated flesh.

 

Ignoring the devastation he had just unleashed, the Pathfinder scanned his surroundings. More Necropeans were advancing on either side, brutally forcing their way through the crowds. The cultists were still frantically chanting, seemingly oblivious to the violence around them.

 

Aldous rotated Ultorum's drum magazine, changing the ammo type, then unslung Tacita Venator. Aiming the cumbersome combat shotguns in each hand, he opened fire on the Enforcers converging upon him. Both weapons were loaded with Manstopper rounds, heavy gauge ammunition that made a mockery of the Necropean's carapace armour. Despite their steroid bloated bulk, the enemy warriors were punched off their feet as though they weighed nothing but air.

 

Suddenly Aldous was grabbed from behind, a pair of massive armoured vambraces encircling his torso, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to drop both shotguns. His assailant's cerulean power armour was wrapped in a shroud of razor wire. The vicious blades cut into the Pathfinder's exposed neck, sending blood trickling down his spine.

 

"Got you now" A voice whispered.

Edited March 16, 2014 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

Oh man Aldous is so screwed!!!

[Spaced Hulk]

Before I start painting in earnest, I thought I'd post some pics of my current progress with the army. So far I'm roughly at 1000 pts: two full Tac squads, a Company Veteran Fire Team (counts as Command Squad), seven Sword Guardians (counts as an allied Honour Guard) and a good selection of HQs.

I haven't included any Revenant models, as I haven't completed a full Second Company Squad yet.

Here are the HQs: From left to right: Knight Captain Artorius Falx; Morton Peleus, Master of the Fleet; Arkas Constantine, Master of the Arsenal; and finally Moritat Dumah Charon, Suppressor Captain.

All count as either Company Masters, Captains or Chapter Masters (depending on whether I'm using Codex DA or Space Marines)

Next there's the Librarius and Reclusiam detachments. From left to right: Codicier Leon Aramis; Chief Librarian Reynard Crom; Interrogator Chaplain Arathorn; Lord High Interrogator Mordrain, Master of Sanctity.

Fire Team Durand, 3rd Company Veterans

Apothecary Niko Tarn

(Eventually Tarn will have his own bodyguard of 4 plasma gunners, but for now he'll occasionally replace the power fist Veteran in the Fire Team)

C&C are welcome

Edited October 20, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

Squad Hain, 3rd Battle Company (Standard Tactical Configuration)

Combat Squad Alpha

Combat Squad Beta

Squad Tormod, 3rd Battle Company (Tactical Assault Configuration)

Combat Squad Alpha

Combat Squad Beta

[Spaced Hulk]

Finally for now, here are the Sword Guardians, Knight Veterans of the Ordinis Novi

The Ordinis Novi, or New Order, are an elite warrior cult within the Sword Bearers Chapter, highly experienced veterans personally chosen by the Master of the Reclusium. Armed and equipped to the highest standards, the Sword Guardians are tasked with protecting the countless relics, heirlooms and standards entrusted to the Chapter's care by their Dark Angel ancestors.

Ok, that's it for now. C&C are welcome As you can see, I've got a LOT of painting to do!

[recon0321]

Awesome work as always...just wondering how many DA upgrade sprues have you used?

[Spaced Hulk]

Thanks mate :-) So far I think I've used about 4 DA sprues, + 3 sets of Anvil robed minis (5 models in each), + a couple of Black Templar boxes.

[facmanpob]

Some very nice kitbashing, brother! Looking forward to seeing them with a bit of paint on them

[Spaced Hulk]

Cheers mate!  The next time I post any pics they'll definately be a bit less grey 

Edited October 22, 2013 by spacedhulk

[darkangel1030]

Wow! Your stuff is on par with (and better than) a lot of BL I have read. Can't wait for more brother!

[Master Avoghai]

This was an epic read for me, really good! The taste you give to the revenants, grim, mysterious, and also savage is really characterful and actually made me think about what special rules to create to make them playable... And I've lots of ideas! ;)

 

The bonus question for all the readers here : Spaced Hulk is fan of an expression coming from old French, that appears merely in each publication... Could you find it? :lol:

[InstantKarma]

I like how the Imperium is stuck using sepia tones for their vid images  

Well done brother!  Keep it coming!

[Spaced Hulk]

@ darkangel1030: Cheers mate! Working on the next chapter right now, so hopefully won't be too long before another story update.

 

@ Master Avoghai: Thanks mate! Would be interested in seeing your rules for the Revenants. I've considered a few different 'official' options (like using BA or Grey Knight allies), but I've kind of settled on just normal Ravenwing with Codex: Space Marine Vanguard squads. The 'Shadow' is the probably the most difficult thing to represent, as fluffwise it's that devastating that an accurate depiction would be really overpowering in an actual game. I was thinking of using a BA librarian with Fear of the Darkness, but I reckon it's quite possible the BA will lose their unique powers when they get their next codex.

 

Bonus Question: Took some thought but I think I may have worked out the answer Does it begin with an M?

 

@ InstantKarma: Cheers! The vids in question were shot in night vision. Or by a defective servo skull In all seriousness, the things I'll do to delay painting really are quite ridiculous

 

Edit: Just noticed the topic has now received over 10,000 views! All I can say is wow! A big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read all this. I really do appreciate the support, interest and encouragement I've received since I started. Thanks again!

Edited October 23, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Master Avoghai]

To feed my reflexion around your army list I'd need some informations :

 

How would you describe the ratio bike/assault marines for the Revenants ? What is the core of the company and what is rarer?

 

The penitents : they're few aren't they?

 

Company vets : are they numerous (I mean numerous enough for having an entry) is there any penitent in power armour?

[deathspectersgt7]

You've been busy Brother .They look great .I won't be posting much for awhile I have to get a new computer.

[Spaced Hulk]

To feed my reflexion around your army list I'd need some informations :

 

How would you describe the ratio bike/assault marines for the Revenants ? What is the core of the company and what is rarer?

 

The penitents : they're few aren't they?

 

Company vets : are they numerous (I mean numerous enough for having an entry) is there any penitent in power armour?

 

I'll try my best mate  Certain aspects might change though as I continue writing the fluff. For example: when I wrote about the Commanders of the Revenants, I originally gave Letholdus a jetbike (thinking I'd use Sammael's rules to  represent him). However, in hindsight, I'd much prefer him to ride a normal bike (because I don't want the Sword Bearers to have their own unique stuff + all the Dark Angels cool toys as well). So I'm thinking about rewriting that section and using a bike mounted Captain from Codex: Space Marines to represent him.

 

With that in mind, here's the info:

 

The Revenants: First of all, there's a lot of them. At least three hundred, and possibly more. Regular Sword Bearer's (like Balian) don't actually know how many there are. In effect, they're a completely autonomous force within the Chapter, with their own ships, organisation and recruitment. They also have a lot of very specialised squads and units (unlike the majority of the Chapter, who are essentially all generalists).

 

In terms of organisation, I reckon Second Company breaks down something like this:

 

- A quarter of all Revenants are trained as bike squadrons, including an elite cadre called the Cursed Knights.

- A quarter are equipped as jump teams (with various specialities, like the Headhunters, Murder Squads, Destroyers etc)

- A quarter act as vehicle crews (piloting landspeeders, gunships, void-fighters, warships etc)

- A quarter are 'airbourne' infantry, deployed either by drop pod or Night Raven gunships. These are the most heavily armed squads in 2nd Company, such as the Hellrazers (all equipped with flamer & melta weapons) and Execution teams (Sternguard equivalent).

 

 

The Penitents: Yes, there are only 60 Penitents at any one time. That's the total number of suits of terminator armour the Chapter has available, and like the Dark Angels, they follow the convention that all members of the First Company fight in TDA. They will have their own version of the Deathwing Knights.

 

So the Sword Bearer's First Company is much smaller than in a normal codex chapter, and probably substantially smaller than in the rest of the Unforgiven. Only when a Penitent dies or leaves the Company for some reason (like being promoted to a Company Master) can a new member be initiated.

 

(For those who are interested, I chose 60 as although I wanted the Sword Bearers First Company to be smaller than normal, I still wanted to be able to field a 'Deathwing' army. I reckon 60 still gives the Chapter enough leeway to deploy an all-terminator force if necessary)

 

 

Company Veterans: Yes, they are quite numerous within the Sword Bearers. This is simply because there's a waiting list for promotion! With only 60 places/suits available amongst the Penitents, they can sometimes have a very long wait. Sword Bearers also can't advance into the Second Company in the same way that the DA marines can join the Ravenwing. The Revenants recruit their own neophytes (for reasons I haven't disclosed yet ) directly from Mire, and are completely separate from the rest of the Chapter.

 

In addition, because the Chapter is isolated on the Eastern Fringe they tend to see a lot of action and subsequently suffer a lot of attrition. So, Sword Bearer marines either survive (gaining lots of combat experience) or die pretty quickly. As the Chapter doesn't have reserves to draw upon (Companies 3 to 9 are all Battle Company equivalents), casualties aren't always replaced that swiftly.  

 

Practically, what all this means is that amongst the Battle Companies, there is always a higher proportion of veterans than normal. The actual number in each company would vary greatly, but I reckon there'd always be at least a couple of squads, and possibly more. After a particularly gruelling campaign (like the one I'm currently writing about), they could potentially end up with a Battle Company seriously reduced in number (50% or less) but consisting entirely of 'veteran' equivalent space marines.

 

 

Penitents in power armour: As I mentioned above, all Penitents fight in terminator armour. However, there's at least one small group of elite Sword Bearers (the Ordinis Novi) who operate outside of the normal Company structures. There may be others...   

 

Hope that helps mate, and thanks for reading!   

Edited October 29, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

You've been busy Brother .They look great .I won't be posting much for awhile I have to get a new computer.

 

Cheers mate!  Aquilanus has told me about your computer problems. Hope you can get it sorted out soon, but don't worry, the Jagga Crusade will be waiting for you when you return brother 

Edited October 29, 2013 by spacedhulk

[Spaced Hulk]

“Your mistake was to engage two targets” It was cruel, sneering voice, thick with spite and arrogance. “So much easier to track.”

 

Aldous could barely move. The cobalt armoured gauntlets of his assailant were locked around his arms and torso in a ceramite embrace. Against all odds, the false hood was still functioning, although close proximity to his opponant was causing the field to flicker erratically as it attempted to conceal them both.

 

“It's impressive camouflage. My Master will be keen to possess such unusual technology.” The conical snout of the Corvus helm pressed into the Sword Bearer's neck. “And I shall enjoy peeling it from your corpse.”

 

Even by Astartes standards, the renegade Ultramarine was immensely strong. His Mark VI plate, wrapped in it's bizarre but vicious shroud of razor wire, amplified this formidable natural strength even further. Without his own power armour, Aldous knew he stood little chance of breaking free from the traitors grasp.

 

He didn't even try. As both arms were pinned to his side, there were only a limited number of tactical options available. With a clarity born of four centuries of combat experience, he chose the simplest, and most efficient course of action.

 

Triggering the blade gauntlet, Aldous severed the renegade's right leg just above the knee.

 

Howling in both rage and pain, the Ultramarine released his grip as he began to fall sideways, his armoured bulk no longer supported by the neatly amputated limb. As he let go, the Sword Bearer instantly span around, swinging the gladius in a smooth, horizontal strike. The energised blade sheared through the traitors torso just below his shoulders, slicing through the warrior's Mark VI vambraces and chest plate with ease. Blood and internal organs burst from the bisected Space Marine as he collapsed into segments, falling to the temple floor in a gruesome avalanche of cleaved ceramite and seared flesh.

 

Splattered with gore, Aldous glanced around as he reached for his fallen shotguns. The cultists around him had all dropped to their knees but were still furiously chanting, ignoring the blood that soaked their robes and faces. Suddenly, he sensed that something was wrong. Lifting Ultorum, he turned to face the podium.

 

Standing completely motionless, the Fallen Angel was silently, impassively watching. The traitor still hadn't drawn a weapon. Arranged into a firing line in front of their master, the five remaining renegade Astartes were each aiming a primitive looking, belt fed heavy weapon.

 

The false hood was still active. Although his actions had made his presence glaringly obvious, Aldous knew they couldn't physically see him. He could still retreat. He could hide amongst the hordes of cultists, waiting for the power generators to be destroyed. Even with the Fallen's psychic gifts, they wouldn't be able to target him without killing the regime's own followers...

 

Aldous realised their intention a moment too late. As he took a single step backwards, the renegades opened fire.

 

***

 

The sun was slowly setting. As it crept below the ridge line, shadows began to lengthen behind the hundreds of ruined vehicles littering the valley floor. Stretching from the smouldering metal carcasses like long, spectral talons, they reached forbiddingly towards the City of the Dead.

 

Amongst the gathering shadows, something monstrous stirred.

 

Trailing a dense cloud of acrid blue smoke, the wounded leviathan crawled towards the gates of the Necropolis. The detritus of the battle was little obstacle to the lumbering, super-heavy vehicle. With inexorable force, the Doomhammer simply drove over everything in it's path, effortlessly crushing the broken hulls of tanks and APC's beneath it's armoured tracks.

 

Fire danced across the adamantium upper deck. A fuel line to a pintle mounted heavy flamer had ignited, bathing the top of the super heavy vehicle in burning promethium. Three statues, each clad in baroque onyx and steel, were standing amidst the inferno, seemingly oblivious to the heat. The Revenants had mag-locked themselves to the pitted metal hull, calmly riding out the tank's turbulent journey across the battlefield. As they closed on his position, Balian realised the identity of the foremost figure. The unique, skeletal artificer armour and the power scythe slung across his back were the distinctive wargear of only one Second Company warrior: the Lord Revenant himself.

 

Although mobile, the Doomhammer itself was a wreck. Heavy armour plates were rent and torn, while the vast array of weapon sponsons were all smoking wounds in the great iron hull. The vehicle had been effectively and clinically disarmed during the battle, allowing the Revenants to capture the beast rather than destroy it. There was just one, striking exception to the otherwise comprehensive damage they'd inflicted. The primary weapon system, the magma cannon, had been left ominously intact.

 

A smaller, shorter ranged version of the infamous volcano cannon, the main armament of the Doomhammer retained all the brutal fury of it's larger cousin. An incredibly powerful laser weapon, the titan-killer was by far the most destructive weapon he'd seen fielded by the Secessionists so far. During the battle, Balian had wondered why the Revenants hadn't neutralised such a dangerous threat, but as the ponderous vehicle ground to a halt in front of the towering adamantium gates of the Necropolis, their actions became self-explanatory.

 

It was certainly an unconventional tactic, and one unlikely to ever be officially Codex approved. But then again, Balian mused, everything about Second Company was unconventional.

 

“Take cover” he ordered, even though he knew it was unnecessary. His brothers had already realised exactly what the Revenants intended. “And don't look into the blast” he added. In theory, their photolenses should have been able to block the intense light radiation, but in his experience, theory and reality rarely aligned themselves.

 

For a moment, time stood still. Everything in the valley seemed to freeze. For the first time since making planetfall, Balian realised the desert winds had dropped, creating a strange, eerie silence. Even through his war helm filters, he could smell the sharp, chemical aroma of ozone, concentrated around the Doomhammer and it's prodigious power generators and capacitors.
 
It was a moment of calm before the storm.

 

With a thunderous crack, a coruscating white laser beam erupted from the barrel of the magma cannon. Despite it's weight and mass, the tank was thrown back several metres by the shocking recoil of the weapon. Twenty terrawatts of energy smashed into it's target, the titanic blast creating a second sunrise that flooded the valley with light. Even though he was looking away from the detonation, Balian's autosenses and photolenses momentarily shut down, overloaded by the sheer, elemental power being unleashed.

 

As his armour's systems came back on-line and restored his sight, Balian risked a glance at the area of the explosion. The photon storm was already fading, the ambient light levels returning to normal as quickly as the false dawn had appeared. Even as his vision cleared, his suit's sensors detected residual heat washing over him, followed almost immediately by a wave of dense white dust, the fallout from the blast rapidly expanding across the entire valley.

 

The South Gates of the Necropolis had been forged from solid adamantium: twenty metres high; three metres thick; magnetically sealed and protected by integral conversion field generators. They were almost impervious to conventional weaponry.

 

Once the magma-bolt struck, the Gates had literally ceased to exist.

 

There was no wreckage. Balian had half expected to see a pool of liquid metal seeping into the parched valley floor, but there was nothing, not a single sign, that the immense barrier had ever existed.

 

Twin bastions had stood sentinel on either side of the Gateway: fortified towers constructed from steel reinforced rockcrete, studded with gun emplacements and firing ports. The Barbican, as it was called, had defended the southern approach to the Necropolis for over a thousand years.

 

Neither tower was still standing. The shock wave caused by the explosion had demolished both bastions as effectively as an orbital bombardment. A mountain of shattered debris now lay in their place. Where each curtain wall met the Barbican were now jagged outcrops of sundered masonry, with a fifty metre wide, rubble covered gap between them.

 

“Who needs Vindicators” Claudin rasped over the vox, shaking the clinging dust from the barrel of his multi-melta. “Any of our black clad brothers up there when it hit?”

 

“I doubt it. They look after their own.” Balian answered hoarsely, ignoring the dubious sincerity of the question. Despite everything they had just witnessed, he suspected the Revenants would always be both abhorred and resented by the rest of the Chapter. Some things would never change.

 

Glancing to his right, the sergeant watched as a dark figure stepped up onto the Doomhammer's main turret, the magma cannon beneath still glowing a deep, ruby red. The flames raging across the hull had been completely extinguished by the force of the blast, and the vehicle was now covered in a thick layer of masonry dust. In fact, everything in the vicinity of the gateway was coated white. Everything except the jet black wraith standing atop the massive battle tank. Dust particles crackled against the Grave King's shimmering power field as he impassively surveyed the devastation he had wrought.

 

With one hand, the Lord Revenant raised his battle scythe into the air. The silence of the valley was shattered instantly as hundreds of engines roared into life once more. Turning to face the commotion, Balian racked the slide of his dust covered combi-plasma as the remaining Second Company warriors surged towards the Necropolis. Expertly manoeuvring over the rubble strewn across their path, the skull helmed bikers tore though the gap at breakneck speed, clouds of dust streaming from their white coated armour.

 

“They look like the sons of Mundus Planus” Elyon said sardonically, causing snickers of amusement over the squad's vox channel.

 

“Don't we all.” Balian chuckled, drawing his great sword and taking a step forwards. “Come on brothers, let's finish this.”

 

***

 

The Pathfinder suit was unique. Although based on the same carapace hard-shell worn by the Chapter's Neophytes, technically it bore little relation to it's original form. Even discounting the embedded false hood technology, the suit was modified with a vast array of sensors, long range vox transmitters, communication jammers and life support systems. It was as far removed from basic Tenth Company equipment as Artificer plate was from standard power armour.

 

But for all it's enhancements, it was still essentially a suit of carapace armour. It's protective qualities were limited, it's tolerances well known. As the renegades opened fire, Aldous realised that whatever happened in the next few minutes, one thing was inevitable.

 

This was going to hurt.

 

The traitors were using heavy stubbers, an unusual armament for Astartes warriors. Long barrelled, belt fed machine guns firing large calibre solid slug ammunition, such weapons were commonly utilised by planetary defence militias and hive gangs. They were crude firearms with limited armour penetration but a prodigiously high rate of fire. That was the key factor. Aldous knew from experience that weight of fire could bring down even the most heavily protected target. During his time amongst the Penitents, he had witnessed a battle brother survive a direct strike from a lascannon, only to be slain a moment later by an unlucky las-carbine shot that had, against all odds, found a weak point in the veteran's terminator armour.

 

If he had been wearing his Mark VIII plate, the Sword Bearer knew he might have been able to weather the incoming hail of bullets. He could probably even close the distance to engage his opponents and start levelling the odds. In the Pathfinder suit, that simply wasn't an option. As the first shots began hammering into his armour, all he could do was crouch down and try to shield himself in any way possible. Activating the blade gauntlet's power field, Aldous raised his arm to screen his exposed face. Bright white energy instantly flared around it as a flurry of rounds collided with the field, ricochetting away in all directions.

 

The renegades were shooting completely indiscriminately, firing on full-auto into the crowd around them. Bullets punched into the heaving mass of cultists in a never-ending storm. Hundreds of Secessionists were killed instantly, their bodies exploding in showers of blood and ruined flesh, their frail human forms easily torn apart by the brutal and unrelenting fire-power. Despite the carnage, there was hardly any screaming or cries of pain to be heard over the gunfire. Incredibly, many of the cultists were still chanting even as they died.

 

Unsurprisingly, the false hood camouflage failed in the first twenty seconds of the barrage. As the solid slug rounds blasted great chunks from the Pathfinder armour, the fragile, gossamer thin material was ripped into fragments, ancient archeotech that had survived nearly ten thousand years destroyed within moments. But even after the camouflage field died and he became completely visible, Aldous realised that the fire pattern wasn't changing to target him directly. The renegade Astartes were still hosing the crowd with a constant stream of bullets, almost as though their very intention was to cause as much death and destruction as possible.

 

They didn't actually need to aim, Aldous realised. The wall of fire that engulfed him was so devastating there was no way he could even move, let alone try to escape. Bullets hammered into his breastplate, first cracking the thick carapace, then penetrating his flesh. Pain flared through his chest as his the solid mass of his ribcage shattered, becoming excruciating as his primary heart imploded inside him. Bloody craters appeared in his arms and legs, the suit's greaves and vambraces offering almost no protection. Ultorum, still held limply in his left hand, took a direct hit, exploding into shrapnel that shredded his whole arm up to the shoulder.

 

The blade's energy field finally died as a bullet thudded into the gauntlet, showering him with blue sparks. Another hit the gladius directly, breaking it in half. A third shot glanced the Sword Bearer's head, pulping his right eye and leaving half his face a bleeding, mutilated ruin.

 

Almost blind, barely able to breath and with blood pouring from a myriad of wounds, Aldous finally collapsed. As he lay there, surrounded by the lifeless remains of the massacred cultists, he gradually became aware that the gunfire was slowing. One by one, the heavy stubbers ran dry, their ammunition expended. As the last weapon clicked empty, he suddenly realised that the chanting had finally stopped. For the first time since his arrival, the Temple was silent. Even the wounded, of which there must have been hundreds, were unnaturally quiet and still.

 

A shadow fell across his prostrate form. Blinking away the rapidly coagulating blood from his remaining eye, Aldous struggled to focus on the imposing, hooded figure towering over him. The Fallen Angel's features were completely hidden beneath the cowl, but the Sword Bearer could sense the ancient warrior's scrutiny, the cold, penetrating gaze staring straight through him, boring into his mind and his soul.

 

Unbidden, the Pathfinder suddenly remembered Talyn's orders, the urgency of his Lord's final wishes outweighing the pain and delirium threatening to consume him. With his right arm, sparks still flaring from the shattered blade gauntlet, he reached for the holster at his side. Other figures had gathered around him now, grey ghosts on the edges of his blurred vision. None of the renegades tried to stop him drawing the plasma pistol. Instead, one by one they began to snigger and laugh.

 

He couldn't even grip the handgun. Glancing down, Aldous saw that most of his right hand was missing. Every finger had been sheared off, leaving blood encrusted stumps in their place. The wound must have occurred during the fire-storm, but amongst his other injuries it hadn't even registered. His other arm, flayed and burnt by the exploding shotgun, wouldn't move at all. At that moment, despair gripped him utterly. Even the morbid effects of the Shadowcasters paled into insignificance compared to the sheer hopelessness of that moment.

 

As if sensing his thoughts, the Fallen gave a short, humourless laugh, before slightly raising a hand, instantly silencing his followers. The traitor had already turned and begun walking away when Aldous finally heard him speak.

 

“Pick him up and bring him with us. Make sure he's disarmed.” It was a surprisingly normal voice, although somehow made chilling by it's calm, emotionless disdain. As grey ceramite gauntlets grabbed and lifted him to his feet, Aldous heard the chanting begin again, almost drowning out the Fallen's words.

 

“My brother and I have much to discuss.”

Edited March 18, 2014 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

I said it once I'll say it again Aldous is so screwed.A great read Brother it went well with my dinner .

Edited November 3, 2013 by deathspectersgt7

[Spaced Hulk]

Thanks brother  Is your computer fixed now? 

Edited November 4, 2013 by spacedhulk

[deathspectersgt7]

Yes finally .

[Bryan Blaire]

Spaced Hulk, it's a shame, it seems like I lost my post about how fantastic your thread is. You have done some amazing looking conversion/kit-bashing work. It's all great and a lot of inspiration, and you have captured a lot of appearances that I have wanted to do with my pieces (which makes some of my work easier, because I just have to match up the bits). I really love it, and your fluff/writing has been very fun to follow as well.

 

I hope you see the imitation as flattery, because I plan to be a big pig on the thievery! Yoink! :D

[Spaced Hulk]

Cheers Bryan, glad you like them!  As a big fan of your Stoneburners, that really is a huge compliment! As for the thievery, steal away mate!  As I said in your thread, I'm probably going to 'borrow' your idea of using the Grey Knight teleport backpacks   (Actually, I'm guessing that post might have disappeared in the last forum crash too? Will have a look).

 

Thanks again mate!