+++In Memoriam: Update+++

[sheep]

Just spent the afternoon reading this frankly brilliant and inspirational log gentlemen. You are all to be commended on your originality, attention to detail, engaging and descriptive writing style and believable characters.

 

I can't wait to see the progression of the rest of the log, and the completion of the armies you've all started.

 

Bravo!

[Noctus Cornix]

http://i421.photobucket.com/albums/pp299/spencertrimm/reaver.png

The Throne Room of a God was bathed in darkness. The shadow slithered along the floor, creeping tendrils of liquid black as though they threatened to swallow everything whole. It moved, pulsing with the feint flicker of brazier light like to pulse of a heart, a living entity froged of darkness that whispered insidious and blasphemous things in the dull unnatural breeze. Banners of crimson silk and flayed skin fluttered overhead, each bearing forth sigils that would ach the eye to even glance upon.. Yet not attention was drawn to them, all eyes directed upon one single individual.

The God King was seated upon his throne, his regal form encased in black armour and laced with the finest gold. No inch of that armour’s surface was unadorned, sigils and iconography bathing him in their lustrous splendor as much as the light of the burning bonfires that flanked his throne. His chin lay rested upon a hand, staring with callous ease while the taloned golden claw that formed his other wrapped idly along the wolf-faced armrest. He extended his cold gray eyes forth, scanning over the assorted warriors that bent before him. Knelt in prostration to their Lord, no less than a hundred warriors lay assembled in that dark chamber, their black armour as deep as the void leaving them as little more than specters in the dim light. They did not move, nor did they raise their heads for theirs was not the right to stand as equal with their God. And so they remained in complete silence, weapons ever at their sides and draped in shadow as was their creed.

“These are product of your work?”
The King spoke at last, his voice a deep and bellowing thing, one that demanded the attention and obedience of all who came to hear them, yet it was not directed to those that lay before him. Instead he spoke one who stood off to the side, one who leaned upon a skull-inscribed cane to keep his support, his sickly pale skin leaving him frail and skeletal looking despite the baroque armour that encased his broken form. The man did not respond at first to his king, hacking and sputtering as only one so horridly deformed could. He waited to regain his composure, snarling into his rebreather as he straightened his posture. “They are, my Lord.”

The God King merely allowed for himself a slight sneer to etch itself upon his noble features, a short exultation of breath followed shortly after, one laced with amusement if not disbelief. “And these will be the key to my victory, as you so boast?”

The crippled man coughed again, this time to clear his throat as though caught off guard by the question. Yet he retained his composition as only one born of the silver-tongue could. “They are indeed, my Lord. The coming war will require more than simply might and numbers. Information must be gather and destroyed, defenses must be dismantled, targets must be eliminated with brutal efficiency, and the moral of the enemy must be broken before the hammer blows can strike true… These are your dagger in the spine, my Lord. These are your Wolves.”

It was only then that a warrior stood, one amongst a hundred that broke from his place of submission to stand forward to meet his God.. The King’s attention turned from his equerry to see this single act of what only seemed like defiance, watching in silence as the warrior paced with slow measured steps through the ranks towards his throne.

The Warrior came to a halt before his God, neck strained so that he may look upon his King for the first and only time. His body remained still yet the twin hearts that pulsed in his body burned and throbbed with anticipation and dread in equal measure. His dry lips parted and he spoke in the softest growl of awe.

“Father?...”

A gang is the same as a wolf pack; gang members do not use their energies in friendship with one another, for they do not know what friendship is. If they are united, it is by the common bond of a desire to attack their world.

- Nord Merica Scholar 'Haniel'

+Day 3+
Outskirts of Meshi Sector

“Lap dog.”

Castus opened his eyes, his mind rising from half-slumber while his thoughts emerged from memories long past. He awoke to the sound of his name, or rather the name his brothers had given him. Lap dog. A feral beast made docile by obedience.. A cold smirk rose upon his lips, hidden beneath the grim black façade of his helm. The quiver of the world around his was a familiar thing, the faint growl of a Storm Eagle’s engine. His eyes rose upwards to meet the source of his Chieftain, meeting the glowing crimson gaze of a golden warmask. Chieftain Doran stood before him, the eldest of the wolves with his posture of superiority and his hands resting idly upon the hilt of his sheathed axe with threat of brutal violence if provoked. ‘Red King’ Doran merely inclined his head off to the side, motioning towards the disembarking ramp still sealed shut. “We fall in 5 minutes. Be ready..”

Castus merely nodded in confirmation to his superior and watched as the Chieftain moved down the wide corridor past him. He took a moment to reassess his surroundings, each turn of his head met with the familiar sight of red helm lenses and cold dark eyes. This was family, his brothers. Or rather, what he considered to be his brothers. Around him sat wolves and killers alike, each one adorned in personalized armour and bearing specifically modified equipment to suit their tastes. They had trained together, fought together, and killed together, yet this often meant little to any of them. Wolves of Cythonia did not hold love or compassion for one another. Each was his own beast, united only by common goal. His ‘brothers’ cared little for him, and he in turn cared little for them as well, a band of monsters united only by the black of their armour and the single name they stood united beneath.

The Kindred.

He finally turned his attention to his own work now, tired of the callous looks of disregard he received from his ‘brothers’. Reaching under his seat, he snatched ahold of his weapon, the familiar grip of his weapon and retrieved it from its safety housing. The Brutus Pattern Bolter: a modified weapon design originating from the Tigrus STC. It held many similarities to the Seeker pattern yet unlike its cousin which was designed for versatility and the combat of a variety of enemies, this bolter was made with a singular purpose in mind. With its name originating from a long dead traitor of a distant and forgotten Empire, the intent of this weapon wholly obvious. With a soft smile, Castus began dismantle his weapon, a task he had known and performed countless times since his induction into Legion.

“Remind me, why are we here, Lap Dog?”

Castus did not even bother to avert his attention from his work, knowing exactly who was addressing him without needing any confirmation. Darius ‘Broken Wing’ was perhaps the most loquacious and pompous bastard known mankind, but he was the only soul in the Kindred that Castus could truly call a brother. The Broken Wing sat next to his axe brother, no doubt already prepared in his over eagerness for bloodshed. Even the low rev of a chain axe could be heard from right next to him, just another sign of his brother’s lack of patience. Darius already knew exactly why they were here down to the last detail, but that never stopped him from asking anyway, much to Lap Dog’s chagrin.

“Because, ‘brother’..” Castus began to speak, his tone dripping with sarcasm and venom in equal measure whilst reassembling his bolter and checking each box fed magazine. “63 miles below us is a convoy withholding a target, one who may or may not have vital information into the Warmaster’s plans. We are here to destroy the convoy and kill everyone.”

“Another traitor?” Castus could hear the sneer in Darius’ tone, knowing that it was excitement rather than disgusting that guided his humors. “Isn’t it the Shadow Hand’s job to make sure these parasites are put down? If one of them slips through, why doesn’t the cripple take care of them himself?”

He raised his head up this time, head shifting to face his Brother. “You know exactly why Lord Malgohurst does not see to these matters personally... Besides, he were to do it himself, then who would you have to kill?”

“Good point… How big is the convoy?”

“Four Imperial Army Valkyries and three Storm Eagles of the Imperial Fists, III Airbore.”

“How many Astartes?”

“It’s three Storm Eagles, Darius, you do the math.”

“Only 60?! And we brought two packs? Oh sweet blood of the Warmaster, we’re barely going to get to kill anyone.”

Both wolves were torn away from their conversation when they heard the sharp bark of Chieftain Doran at the far end of the passenger hull. The two turned their gaze to one another and in silence, the grasped ahold of their weapons and maglocked them into place at their sides.

In unison, 9 warriors in the armour of Black and Gold stood from their safety harnesses, bolters and chainaxes at their sides, jump packs left silent in waiting. The other ten remained seated at the other side of the hull, watching as their brothers marched in scattered formation towards the door. They stood there in waiting at the closed mouth of the vessel, listening in silence to the muffled growl of roaring engines and the distant boom of orbital fire. Their patience was rewarded with the pressurized hiss of seal locks disengaging and the piston whine of the disembarking ramp. The chamber was immediately filled with the howl of the wind and the reek of ozone and gunpowder. The yawning mouth of the black storm eagle opened forth, revealing below only the thick miasma of ashen clouds that blanketed the earth below. They stared in silence, some grasping the ceiling handles in wait while others idly caressed the handles of their weapons in waiting, impatient to hear the word that would set them free. And then it came, a single word uttered from the lips of their Chieftain in the ancient dialect of Cythonian barbarian tribes.

“Fall.”

XVI LEGION ORGANIZATION

XII KINDRED

Little is known of the Paramilitary Reaver formation known as the XII Kindred. Much of the records on them are mixed reports and officer accounts while there were no found records of any secessionists on this formation save accounts made my traitor officers. Following the Siege of Terra, a personal log was found on the body of one known as Legionary Castus. Much of the records indicate the unit functioned solely as Special Operation groups given the task of assassinating key targets or destroying important objectives while working outside the typical Legion protocol or organization. Many important officers of the defending Legions and Imperial army can be likely confirmed as executed by this unit and many more that have been killed by unknown causes or have simply gone missing could also be allocated to this special unit along with the fall of the Narayani sector. Although little connection can be made to their place in the XVI Legion, all accounts from secessionist officers detail little to no prior knowledge of this unit yet they moved with the will and authority of Malgohurst himself, able to requisition any equipment or forces they needed to complete their missions.

Despite the high risk of their missions, the Kindred suffered surprisingly low casualties for much of the siege, the first confirmed death was only reported on the 36th day by the I Airborne Pathfinders of the VII Legion. Despite this fact, reports indicate that the XII Kindred began to receive heavy casualties during the final days of the siege with increasingly difficult missions, including the failed attempt on the life of Captain-General Constantine Valdor of the Adeptus Custodes. Following the death of Warmaster Horus, it would seem that the XII Kindred broke all sense of formation and some say even sanity, increasing the casualties to an estimated 96%. Only four remaining members of the XII made it off of the Terra, every single one is confirmed dead by Imperial Records no more than two years later.

Legionary Profile

http://i915.photobucket.com/albums/ac352/Noctus-Cornix/WP_000102_zpsee179361.jpg

http://i915.photobucket.com/albums/ac352/Noctus-Cornix/WP_000103_zps81af6e7a.jpg

Pict Capture KV/2395-5N-222, Legionary Castus 'Lap Dog'

XVI Legion, Siege of Terra-Day 27

Legionary Castus: Much of the information gathered on the XII Kindred are drawn from a personal log of Legionary Castus. His account hints that the Kindred were not drawn from any Legionary prior to the tragedy of the Istvaan III culling. Instead every member was of new stock selected into a special accelerated program. There can be no absolute confirmation of this account but if this is true than no member would be older than 23 years of age by the start of the Heresy. Autopsies of collected bodies reinforces this possibility. The accelerated program mentioned in Castus' log referring to very disturbing concepts, children raised and trained solely for the act of killing their fellow man. Executions of civilians, target practice with Imperial Army soldiers. Exhibition execution of captured loyalist astartes.

Other parts of the logs detail the Kindred making excessive use of tribal monikers and titles, each Legionary having his own title and nickname that is used more often than their actual name. Legionary Castus describes his Moniker to be 'Lap Dog' coined for his excessive loyalty to the Warmaster and his Equerry Malgohurst. This personal log was found on Castus' body in the ruins of a trench on Jupiter during the earliest stages of the Scouring Era. Cause of death is reported to have not been death by Loyalist fire or even friendly traitor fire. Autopsy credits the cause of death to be suicide, a single bolt round to the chin most likely moments after his final log entry.

Equipment: The XII Kindred received the only the best from their beloved master, Malgohurst. Modified and enhanced MK IV warplate, state of the art chain axes and Jump packs, and a unique pattern of bolter known as the 'Brutus' Pattern. Despite every legionary bearing the same colour and heraldry of a Reaver, each Kindred modified his equipment as he saw fit and was left up to personal tastes. Castus seemed to have modified his armour the least amongst his brothers, bearing a helm common amongst Reavers with the likeness of ancient warmasks from Cythonian Barbarian culture.

[Vazzy]

I like it. I like it a lot. I think you've done an excellent job capturing the feeling of savagery you were shooting for. 

[Durfast Spiritwolf]

Excellent

[GrandMagnus]

That mini is really badass brother.

[Knight of the Raven]

Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god squeeeeeeeeeeeee

 

*vox shatters*

 

Ahem.

 

I initially wanted to use recon marines for my sternguard, but that reaver's pose singlehandedly changed my mind. (The models themselves are able to use heavy flamers unlike the demi-cloaked scouts, too...) They look brutal enough for World Eaters (or War Hounds), as Jaspcat proved.

[Noctus Cornix]

Awww you're making me blush. :blush:

 

They really are an awesome kit. The only problem I have is the lack of versatility you can make with their poses. That being said, the poses are all awesome anyway so its a negligible offense.

[Hyaenidae]

"The secret of war lies in the communications"

-Warlord Bonpaerti, Franc War-King, M.2

::::Recovered recording:::Data-Stack 762-4::::Noospheric interface complete:::::processing request::::::Granted:::::

[Pict Capture DX/91-00-342-2] Vox-Brother Crowder (Sapper) and Vox-Brother Louin (Tactical)

[Brother Heinrich]

Comms Marines and a Napoleon quote? I approve.

[Noctus Cornix]

I like it. I like it a lot. I think you've done an excellent job capturing the feeling of savagery you were shooting for.

Thanks mate.

[Kol Saresk]

lol, that mini on the left looks like someone took a bayonet and slapped it on a sword handle. Pretty BA is I do say so.

[Marshal Rohr]

I believe its the power cutlass Kol. I can't quite tell.

[Kol Saresk]

Either way, still looks cool. At least in my opinion.

[GhostMalone]

Heathens brother the legs on the right mini what are they from?

Can't quite put my finger on it

[The_Chaplain]

Jaspcat they are from the 2005 games day space marine.

[Hyaenidae]

Much foreshadowing, I sense.

 

Indeed, young Jedi.....  ;)

 

Although they are still filthy traitors, I must grudgingly thank Mahda and his men for (albeit coincidentally) avenging the desecration of the Grace's bridge crew. *spits in disgust* This is why I despise the Word Bearers more than any other Traitor Legion.

 

To be fair, Mahdra has nothing personal against the BA's, except that they serve a tyrant. If only they could see the errors of their ways.

 

Bah!

 

I did not expect those doddering relics senility would lead them to gun down their own allies on the

battlefield, but then, fear and hatred has ever been the response of the dullard unwilling exposed to the truth.

 

This treason will not go unrepaid, Mahdra! Your name is in our mouths. Your face is in our sight. All come to us in the end, and we forget nothing.

 

Be still, Son of Lorgar. There is still yet much to see. I may surprise you yet....

 

 

And this is why heathens is one of the best.

 

Now I'm feeling an urge to defend the innocent whilst still killing the emperors lapdogs

 

You are playing Death Guard. Mutated and corrupted or not, they still believed originally in defending the weak and overthrowing the Tyrant Emperor.

 

Like Noctus said, it's all about dialogue. When you boil it down, why did the DG turn? Does every single Legionary feel the same as their father? It's all about how you approach it.

 

 

Its only Mahdra. He is an old Terran born in a Cathoric (Catholic) society before The Emperor decided to trash all over Religions. Its mentioned in one of his previous stories.

 

Right-o. I had actually associated the 'Cathoric' from that with two things: the Cathars (which is reasonably close in theme, so it was what I was actually going with) and a really stereotypical Asian accent (kind of repulsive, so I quickly figured it wasn't this).

 

Also, I totally forgot that.

 

EDIT: It was a whole seven pages ago! Practically a whole month...

 

Without killing too much of my next big post, yes. Mahdra still holds the faith he was born with on Old Earth close to his heart, and is a devout Catheric. He held in secret for centuries, and it is the reason he has followed his Gene-Father into rebellion; to have a chance to strike back at the False Emperor for trying to kill the Word of God.

 

"It is polite to knock."

 

Awesome. Just awesome, as always.

 

Without sounding like arrogance, I must admit i was quite proud of that quote myself.  :D

 

I sense some linkage between heathens' Iron Warriors and his Imperial Fists...

 

Awesome update, heathens! The combination of Mk.IV (Black Templars!) Dread and Contemptor Heavy Bolter arm is... unusual. But I like it! The Spirebreaker is excellent!

Incidentally, is Ancient Levan a Spaniard, or of Hispanic persuasion?

 

I was thinking Sud Merican, to be honest. And the link between the two will be revealed in time.

 

　

Heathens, you're an amazing talent. You probably get that a lot, but you should get that a lot make no mistake about it. The above fluff was better reading than the last two black library books I've picked up. While I'm not a huge fan of your militaristic dialogue style for the far future, your structure, timing, and voice are up there with the pros. Don't ever leave us lol

 

I chose a militaristic viewpoint intentionally for two reasons: First, it's my background, and is natural to me. It helps with my writing. Second, it seems like it's too easy for many people to get caught up in the Knightly aspect of Astartes, but I personally feel that back in the 30k era, they were far closer to super-soldiers than anything else. Yes, they run about with swords and axes and mauls, but at the end of the day, the Legions of old were a massed military unit, dangerous for they professional aspect and lethality as a team. I blame Horus Rising, The Crimson Fist, and Little Horus for polluting my point of view towards a pure military outlook.

 

Just spent the afternoon reading this frankly brilliant and inspirational log gentlemen. You are all to be commended on your originality, attention to detail, engaging and descriptive writing style and believable characters.

 

I can't wait to see the progression of the rest of the log, and the completion of the armies you've all started.

 

Bravo!

 

I think I speak for all of us when I say thank you. You Sons of Horus have been a personal inspiration for me. :)

 

Comms Marines and a Napoleon quote? I approve.

 

"You can talk about us, but you can't talk without us.", as our old S-6 NCO liked to say.  :P

 

lol, that mini on the left looks like someone took a bayonet and slapped it on a sword handle. Pretty BA is I do say so.

 

M2C was correct, it's a power cutlass from the Mk IV weapon set.

 

Heathens brother the legs on the right mini what are they from?

Can't quite put my finger on it

 

It's actually the whole torso and legs, from a limited edition Sergeant I cut into itty bitty pieces.

[Disruptor_fe404]

A Catholic Traitor who wants to stomp Emps for trampling all over his faith is an excellent little touch.

[Kol Saresk]

Still, it looks cool and I like it. Even if it is a sword-bayonet.

[Wade Garrett]

No worries, heathens. I'm really enjoying the fluff and models and it is always a pleasure to see Traitor Marines with more depth than:

 

"I LIKE AXES, RAGE, AND BEING EVIL!"

 

"I like sorcery, and also evil."

 

"I like evil and being preeeetttyyy!"

 

Etc; etc.

 

Noctus, are all the Reaver helms that sweet looking? It's hard to tell by the pictures on Forgeworld's site.

[Noctus Cornix]

Ya, they're all pretty sweet, man. I bought the Reaver upgrade sprue heads so once I get further on, I'll be showing more and more of these helmets.

 

Will have to work a bit harder on my fluff next time, I think.

[Vazzy]

Ya, they're all pretty sweet, man. I bought the Reaver upgrade sprue heads so once I get further on, I'll be showing more and more of these helmets.

 

Will have to work a bit harder on my fluff next time, I think.

I liked it quite a bit man, just saying. 

[Dragonkin Arenis]

I was thinking Sud Merican, to be honest. And the link between the two will be revealed in time.

 

Regardless of his lineage, he's a great character. I look forward to reading more of him, the crazy Catharic Iron Warriors Dreadnought.

 

The Comms guys look ace heathens! I hadn't considered adding an IG aerial to the Signum - might have to try that sometime.

Also, I love how you slip in some older stuff like bolters from 2nd(?)ed alongside the newer Forgeworld stuff. It makes the force truly unique.

 

And noctus! Castus oozes brutality! Definitely looking forward to seeing the rest of his pack.

 

Can't wait for more from both of you!

[Barabbas Sogalon]

Had plans to write the background for my next squad, then got distracted by all of this. Now I can't get the words out.

 

Your brother in the XIV patiently await more.

[BassWave]

There are few reasons I come to the bolter and chainsword anymore, and its to see the work posted here. The fluff and music really help immerse me into the universe you guys are creating. I hope to join you fellows into 30k one day, once I mourn the death of my beloved 40k Iron Hands, and saved up enough money of course.

[Kol Saresk]

 

There are few reasons I come to the bolter and chainsword anymore, and its to see the work posted here. The fluff and music really help immerse me into the universe you guys are creating. I hope to join you fellows into 30k one day, once I mourn the death of my beloved 40k Iron Hands, and saved up enough money of course.

Part of the ship, part of the crew. Part of the ship, part of the crew. Part of the ship, part of the crew. Part of the ship, part of the crew. Part of the ship, part of the crew.