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

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By Vazzy
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Vazzy

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When can I expect to see more, my Cerulean brother?

Right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Neophyte Jacob lay in the waist

high grass, his ghillie suit blending in with the surrounding area perfectly.

Jacob was trying to gain access to the vaunted “Marksmen of Marcus” the

premiere recon unit in the company, and so far it was looking like he had a

good chance. 10 days ago the six potential recruits had been dropped deep into

the Calthian wilderness and ordered to “assassinate” 5 high priority targets,

without being detected. The first four had been easy kills, with Jacob moving

on without anyone coming close to finding him.

 

 

 It was this

last target that had gotten to him. Another marksmen, his target, had managed

to evade him for three days now, but he suspected he’d finally found her blind,

and had waited for her to give herself away. So far, she hadn’t. At 20 years

old, Jacob was old for a novitiate, and had already started a family when the

XIII had pulled him off of Hypax six years ago, but so far, all of his implants

had taken, and all he needed was his Black Carapace. Suddenly, the suspicious

looking fronds in his scope shifted and he slid his finger over the trigger,

giving  it a slight squeeze. A puff of

dirt erupted from the fronds, and it was then the Scout realized he’d been

played. Well, that, and the sound of an autopistol chambering a round.  He rolled, and dodged the first shot before

leaping to his feet and grappling with his assailant, slamming her against a

tree. He was stunned to see a lithe, petite brunette grinning up at him,

 

 

“If you’re gonna feel me up like that,” She said with a

laugh, “I usually make guys buy me dinner first.”

 

 

Embarrassed, despite his conditioning, Jacob stepped back

and removed his hands from her arms, before crossing them across his chest.

 

 

“How?” He said.

 

 

She looked up, eyes glinting, “How what?”

 

 

Jacob regarded her with a cold stare. “You know what.”

 

 

She bent down to tie her boots, which she’d removed to sneak

 

 

up, “Oh, how I fooled you into firing on my dummy? It was pretty easy, but

you’ll have to work for it.”

 

 

Out of the Clearing a giant in Cerulean and Gold power armor

stepped out, looking incredibly dour. Jacob was irritated, as he knew he’d

failed miserably. Not only had he given away his position by firing at a ruse,

but a simple human had also caught him nearly unawares. Unbelievable. He shook

his head, lamenting the fact he’d probably end up in a tactical squad or

support unit. He looked at the hulking Vigilator, who stood before him arms

crossed.

 

 

“Sir, I-“ Jacob began, but was cut off by a wave of a hand.

 

 

“Don’t,” Marcus rumbled, “Do you think you earned a place in

the Ninth? Be honest, I’ll know if you lie.”

 

 

The neophyte swallowed, as the girl tried to suppress a

grin.

 

 

“I do sir, I may have failed to shoot my target, but I did

catch and “kill” her. Sir.”

 

Marcus nodded, and tossed the man a golden bolt casing. “Then

 

 

welcome to my shooters boy.”

 

 

“Don’t screw it up.” The girl stared awestruck, before

turning to Jacob.

 

 

 

“I’m Natalie, pleasure almost killing you. I look forward to

working with you.” She sketched a weak salute, and strode after Marcus, a skip

in her step.”

 

 

Vazzy Veteran

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"Long considered to be the 129th companies premiere priority target disposal, Sergeant Polynikes is a savage, arrogant man. Marked for censure due to excessive force and brutality on multiple occasions, Polynikes is a name spoken with a mix of admiration and disgust. At 150 Terran years, Polynikes should at least be a junior captain, but his disciplinary problems have either seen him demoted or held in contempt of command. Why the Captain of the HAmmers keeps him around is a mystery to all but those closest to the Captain, who know that Polynikes is a generally solid warrior,who, despite a less than clean disciplinary report, has a stellar record when it comes to mission completion. "

 

-"The Legiones Astartes, XIII legion (Ultramarines) (129th company) (Key Personnel)

 

*Note* High Priority target: Kill or maim, too dangerous to turn.

 

 

 



Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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Thanks Brother A. 

 

Here's the WIP siege breaker, Crassus. 

 

photo (8) by vazzy2012, on Flickr
 
(Sorry Heathans, He took the shield from a dead Iron Warrior. May want to check your dudes...)
 
 
And then Alexandros
 
The youngest member of Strike Team Polynikes, Alexandros is nonetheless a skilled warrior who trained under both Polynikes and Dienekes and joined the seekers fresh out of the Novitiate. A caring soul, Alexandros can often be found among the women of the 432nd, helping out in whatever way he can. He has been cited as the "...Model of an Ultramarine, loyal, flexible, and a human side the Legiones Astartes are not well known for...". Whatever the case may be. It is clear that Alexandros is one to watch.
 
"The Legiones Astartes, XIII legion (Ultramarines) (129th company) (Key Personnel)
Low priority: Too indoctrinated, Kill.
 
 
photo (9) by vazzy2012, on Flickr
Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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photo (10) by vazzy2012, on Flickr

 



photo (11) by vazzy2012, on Flickr

 



photo (12) by vazzy2012, on Flickr

 

 

"Centurion-Sergeant Antaro Crassus, or "The Hammer" as he is sometimes referred to is the renowned siege specialist of the 129th company, and equerry to Captain Fidelitas. A once smiling and jovial man, after Calth, where most of his squad still lie, Crassus has become a shadow of his former self, aged before his time. The once proud Aquila shield he bore into combat has been discarded in favor of a simple boarding shield, with the names of his brothers written in his own hands upon the face, along with a simple epitaph; "WE REMEMBER". Crassus now fights alongside his sworn brother Antillar and his breachers, but he is not the same man he once was." 

 

-The Legiones Astartes, XIII legion (Ultramarines) (129th company) (Key Personnel)

 

So, Crassus isn't 100% done. But He mostly is, and I couldn't resist putting a pic up of the model. 

Plus the gold sucks, but I'm justifying it as a simple boarding shield with a paintjob thrown on it. 


Vazzy Veteran

Vazzy

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No picture update, just a bit of Background I wote, fleashing out Vorenus the effect his Captain's death by Angron had on him. 

 

 


Vorenus sat in one of the many squad rooms tha filled the

Fortress of Hera, and stared at the bloody and battered MK IV helmet in his
hands.  It was his Captain’s, before that
Bastard Angron had taken him apart.  He
held the helms picto-record in one hand and stared at the tiny wafer, dreading
what he’d see.  He sighed and slid it
into the data slate, and watched the last few minutes of Orfeo’s life.


 

 


 

It became apparent that Orfeo would’ve bested Khârn, but it
was not a surprise. His Captain fought with a grace and poise most men could
barely comprehend, which was why he commanded the Evocati. Though that title
had fallen to Vorenus, as it appeared he and his men were the last of the great
Evocatus trooper, much to his consternation. He watched as the Captain
attempted to fight Angron, only to be pummeled and tortured by the Red Angel.
The screams sounded tinny due to the vox speakers, but they tore at Vorenus’
heart.


 

Damn the Eaters of Worlds, raging barbarians, with no
concept of Honor.


 

 


 

A small voice squeaked from behind him, “My Lord?”


 

“What?,” He snarled, “I was not to be disturbed. Who gave
you permission to enter?” He turned and saw a small, pale woman standing,
ramrod straight, no fear evident in face or eyes.


 

 


 

“Lord Pullo said it would not be an issue, Liege. Was he
incorrect?”


 

 


 

Vorenus shook his head grumbling, “Of course he did. Of
course he did, pain in my Arse.”


 

 


 

“Sire?”


 

 


 

“Nothing. Why are you here? Name as well.”


 

 


 

She nodded, “Sara Levet, my liege. Order of Rembrancer. I
was hoping to chronicle your events on Nuceria.” She saw the helm, and reached
for it, but recoiled as Vorenus placed one giant palm upon it. “Yes, um,
apologies, I didn’t mean, sorry. Whose is that?”


 

 


 

Vorenus looked up, “Lord Captain Orfeo, Master of Armatura.”


 

 


 

Sara’s eyes widened, “The Orfeo? Hero of the Eastern Fringe?
It’s said he managed to fight Angron to a standstill on Armatura!”


 

 


 

The screams echoed through his head, the sounds of pure,
unfettered agony. “Yes,” He whispered, “He did. Now please, go. Comeback later.”
Vorenus turned, so the girl wouldn’t see the tear in his eye as he crushed the
data wafer.


 

 


 

“Yes. He died a heroes death…”


 

 


 

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