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Vazzy's Big Heresy Thread-Word Bearer Test Scheme 4/7/16

Vazzy

By Vazzy
in + WORKS IN PROGRESS +

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Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5473/11023272025_1c03ba9bf2_z.jpg


 


 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRAI87PbX8c


 


W
hen one’s it’s own world has been subjected to an invasion of an Imperial nature, very rarely is this a good thing.  They came on the first day of the second month of the two thousand and fourteenth year, and by the seventh day, there was naught but flame and ash. Firing our nuclear arsenal had probably not endeared us to them…First they killed the lights, plunging the world into darkness, creating a panic. Yet I stayed out with those that mattered to me, as only death awaited me outside.  Then they fell upon the cities, leaving none alive. I knew at this point, my family was lost to me. I only prayed they had not suffered to greatly, yet I suspected they had, from the images we had witnessed. With the infrastructure destroyed and the armies of the world hanging from midnight pauldrons and and crimson fists, they moved out, into the countryside, systemically purging this world. And yet I stayed still, clutching the blade I’d bought all those years ago…. It was the sixth day, the scream of turbines had rang out throughout the night, with the throaty roar of their cannons ringing, and the screams, ohh the screams. We knew they were coming and yet we waited. Nothing like dying at home right? 

 

When the wall exploded in, I can proudly say I brandished my blade-haha. Any man who says he stood up to the Legion is a liar. Their sheer bulk, their presence cows even the bravest mans heart. You do not fight space marines. No I fell to my knees, praying, accepting that I stood before death and his friends, blade sliding from my quivering fingers. 

 

Their leaders voice rang out of the grinning skull, or helmet really. “Your fear is abhorrent. You reek of it. At least you have the dignity to not beg or piss yourself.” He grasped me by the throat, pistol inches from my face. “ I like it when you beg. Shows how truly ignoble man is.”

 

Now, being held by a giant whose pistol is pointed square at your face is never a good thing. But making a joke about him is even worse. 

“Overcompensating much?” I murmured, accepting I would quickly find my way into a skinning pit, and hoping he’d crush my skull then and there. What I did not expect was a booming laugh from the man with two glowing pistols, clad in a bright cobalt, contrasting the deep black of the others. 

 

He pulled his helm off, pale, handsome face scarred with a large P across one cheek. He grinned, his teeth filed to wicked points, “Look at the courage of this one Thatch my boy. You’ve got him at deaths doorstep, and yet he mocks you! Mortals, never knowing when to shut up.” I groaned inwardly, now I was to be a plaything, something to punish…. He turned to me. 

“Mortal, what is your profession? If you say engineer I will kill you. I hate engineers.”

 

I swallowed, “I am. I am a teller of stories, a writer sir.” He laughed

 

“A storyteller! How grand! You will tell stories of us! The Carnifex of the XIII, and it will be delightful. I am Tadras Fidelitas, and tbe glowering idiot clutching you is Edward Thatch, my second in command. What shall we call you mortal?”

 

I groaned as I was tossed to the ground. “Vazquez, Simon Vazquez Sir.” 

 

Thatch stood over me, the skull and the ork head at his waist staring at my soul; I imagined he was sneering behind the terror markings. “Well, Vazz,” he hissed, “Welcome to the XIII legion.”

 

 


 


 


 


 


 


 


http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7331/11970421556_eca29af13a_c.jpg


 


"Who is that? Who is that you ask. I figured you knew, I mean he did nearly kill you...That's Thatch. One of the only pretty boys we ever accepted. Ain't so pretty now..."


 


~Sevik Lo - Master of Signal, 28th Company 8th Legion


 


Credit to Flint13:  http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/282556-saeva-nocte-reborn-a-mostly-pre-heresy-nightlords-plog/?p=3567990


 

 

Because I can't resist putting myself into my work, Vazzy the scribe has joined the XIII legion, though perhaps not under the best circumstances. I will admit the model looks sloppy, perhaps unfinished, but that's the point, to help show these guys aren't really XIII anymore. You know what they say....The VIII has a way of sticking to a man. 

Barabbas Sogalon Veteran

Barabbas Sogalon

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I really like your Ultramarines, brother, and the way you have included Destroyers in such an honourable Legion. That branded P stands for pirate, am I correct? A great little detail.

 

Keep up the Loyalist work.

Flint13 Venerable Brother

Flint13

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One of us! One of us! One of us!

Ahem, where was I? Oh yes, I believe I was congratulating you on a job well done.

sweat.gif Thanks man. Maybe someday I can be a real Night Lord. But today is not that day.

S'kay Vazz, I'll back you up at all our social functions ^_^

Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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Alright guys, This is going to be a Double post. First is full of the 129th taking the field against the Death Guard.

BEFORE

http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7340/12003654354_76a2feec7a_c.jpg

AFTER

http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3694/12003289345_4210a45bc4_c.jpg

 

I'll say this. Breacher squads and seeker squads, while cool and thematic, are not worth the price you pay for them. I'll also note my opponent fielded two Baneblade Chassis tanks, and I still pulled out a tie!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1QUZzeZoPQ

 

http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5473/11023272025_1c03ba9bf2_z.jpg

 

After the initial skirmish with Allant, and the death of Konnere, the 129th took to the skies with a vengeance, burning traitor stronghold wherever they could get to grips with them.
"On The Hammers of Tallassar-The129th company"

 

+900:10:24
Bundes//Eastern Fringe
 
A sad trickle of rain dripped down the giants face, plastering the Mohawk to the tan scalp.  His Cobalt and gold plate were battered and beaten by the Shadow Wars, and the battles that occurred after. There, a bolt scar from a Word Bearer pistol, and there, the patchwork repair of a chainaxe of a Night Lord. 3 years. 3 years they’d fought, and waged war against fellow Astartes. 3 years since the Massacre at Calth, and the death of Beloved Captain Konnere at the hands of Allant, The Ruined King. Crixin had seen the 129th, his company change much in the years after the destruction of Calth, and Armatura. 
 
Much had changed, yet much had stayed the same. The first maniple, the elite, was still largely intact, having suffered only 28 casualties in total. An astonishing record, considering entire companies were now listed as LOST or absorbed into another. Captain Fidelitas himself had taken refugees from the remainder of the 12th chapter, consolidating them into a force of about 2500 men under his command.  They remained the Hammers of Talassar, Ultramarines all. But the XIII legion members were not the only warriors to join the 129th. Members of the VII, XVIII, X, and IX were also a part of this task force, sent to the edge of the Eastern fringes to clean up IV legion outposts in the Corelli system. A waste, Crixin had argued, eager to hunt the XVII :cusss who had slain Sawn and mauled the Companies fleet. The Captain, however had refused, citing “Lord Guilliman has given this to us, and we will do as ordered”. Whilst Crixin had understood this, he longed to lock blades with the Ruined Kings Champion, and wipe the smirk off of the Monarchians smug face. 
 
“Brother,” a voice called, “Brother?”
 
Crixin looked up, and saw his sword Brother, Sepius staring at him, his power axe glowing in the gray morning, chain sword whirring idly. Despite being covered by the White Helm of a veteran, Crixin knew his brother had a look of worry about him. His best friends armor somehow remained immaculate despite the three years of wear and tear it had seen. Faye was good at her craft it seemed. 
“Crixin, Brother are you well?”
 
Crixin looked up, and smiled a sad smile, nodding.”Aye Brother, I am of a state of remembrance that is all. “
 
Sepius nodded, and turned, red cloak dragging in the mud. The snap of Bolter fire had begun again, and it appeared the Trench grubbers of the IVth legion were attempting a breakout.  He sneered, as he was more than happy to send traitors back to whatever hellhole they’d come from.  He surged into a run, axe blazing into life.
 
Sepius grunted as he ripped the Power axe from the shattered breastplate of the Sergeant who had thought it wise to swing a power maul at him.  Crixin, whose sublime bladework had seen one Iron Warrior cut into thirds, had quickly dispatched his two compatriots and the other was spewing blood from the gap where his throat had once resided. They turned as they heard the Iron Warriors signature cry of “Iron Within, Iron Without!” and saw a wave of ten more Olympians surging up the churned mud towards them. At their head a champion festooned in oaths of moment and bearing a cloak of mail stood, a crackling power maul held in two hands.  “Mine.” Sepius snarled advancing toward him, rolling the axe in his hand, and relic chainsword screaming as it chewed air. The rest of the Iron warriors ran towards Crixin, gladii and trench weapons clutched in their fists. 
In a booming voice that rang out over the battlefield, Crixin taunted the Iron warriors, whose ice-cold exteriors were beginning to crumple after 25 days of Hell. Crixin hit them like a wrecking ball, his powerswords reaping a bloody toll, often before most of them had a chance to strike. He swiftly deflected a entrenching tool that was on an intercept course for his head, taking the hand off at the wrist. He laughed, thinking who fights with a bloody shovel anyways?  He grunted as the other man managed to jam a combat blade into his back. He pirouetted on one foot, driving the gleaming red power field through the visor slit of the Iron warriors faceplate. Crixin shook the blood off of his armor and looked for Sepius and felt his heart leap to his throat as his brother was knocked to the ground, helm crumpled and damaged.  
 
The iron warrior raised the maul to finish him off, the mace theming with built up tension. Sepius, his helm nearly sundered and one eye pulped attempted to climb to his feet, fingers scrabbling in the earth, attempting to at least die with a blade in hand. He braced for the killing blow But it never fell, instead,  a soft hum rang out and the Iron Warrior stumbled, looking at where his chest had once been. Behind him stood Crixin, the plasma pistol steaming from its barrel.  
 
Sidereal -360,000:12:23 
Talassar
 
It had been  their first day as Aspirants, He, a noble born warrior, born to serve, and Crixin, the homeless orphan who had managed to scrape by in the trials. They’d been on a forced march that first day, and Sepius had collapsed, exhausted. Delirious from dehydration, he hadn’t seen who helped him to his feet and carried him up the hill,  ensuring he wasn’t dropped. He remembered getting water into his system and peering at the boy who’d risked helping him. The small boy had held out his hand, and Sepius had grabbed it,  climbing to his feet. The white haired boy smiled, “I’m Crixin. Who are you?”
“Sepius Quintus Donalbain Etrigus, of Clan Dornmon.”
 
Crixin had stared, his flinty eyes quirked in amusement. “Well Sepius Quintus Donalbain Etrigus, that is a stupid name. I am going to call you Sep.”
+900:25:01
He groaned as he was lifted to his feet.  He heard the voice, now deep, but still just as friendly and caring. “C’mon Sep, we’ve still got a war to win.”
 
http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3817/12129968223_9c108c4c15_c.jpg
{Captain Sepius Etrigus "The Poet" Confirmed K.I.A Iron Cage with Astartes Crixin}
 
http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3684/12129975163_16aafe03ea_c.jpg
{Captain Crixin Ironblood "The Undefeated" Confirmed K.I.A with Astartes Sepius}
 
"The Warriors Two"
Battle Brothers since initiation, Sepius and Crixin have served together for over 100 hundred years, and spent the last twenty in command of their own maniples in the 129th. By far the youngest Captains in the 129th, the two are a solid pair who survived everything the Heresy could throw at them. Both were confirmed K.I.A. by XXXV cohort honor brother Krieger during the Iron Cage incident. Recovered footage shows that the two had a 75 to 1 Kill death ratio at their time of death. They died as they lived, back to back, brothers to the end....
 
 
Edit: The fact I can see how many of my facebook friends are looking at this is very amusing. 
Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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They just had todie saving someone, didn't they?

 

It wouldn't be the 129th if someone didn't.

>It's looking great vaz my brother,

Really loving your ultras

Making me consider trying my hand

Give it a shot man!

 

Thanks Flint. I'm not that happy with it myself. I tried a different technique that I wont be using again.

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