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Loyalists of the XIV: The tyrant's ruin and rival's fall


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LEGIO XIV DEATH GUARD

8th Battalion of the 7th Great Company

"The Last Judgement"

 

 

 

Battalion Command

Lieutenant-Commander Barabbas Sogalon

"The Blades of Albia"

Primus Medicae Titus Sarpaten

1st Centurion Vitor Gorek

Bladesman Domhnall Aodhan

Siege Breaker Targen Isearg

Master of Signal Lev Nahshon

Moritat Trabakhal Gurthor

1st Huntsman Rikar Arov

Lodge Speaker Sorik Nikoman

 

The Four Squads

1st Squad Tartaros

2nd Squad Acheron

3rd Squad Charon

4th Squad Thanatos

 

The Battalion

Old Tamhais

Apothecary 3rd Class Sedefkar

Styx Tactical Support Squad

Hades Heavy Support Squad

Karybdis Breacher Squad

 

The Destroyer Company

Phlegeton Destroyer squad

Pyros Incinerator Squad

 

Allies of the 8th Battalion

Librarian Soroush Hormuzd of the Thousand Sons

Eirikr Blood-Axe, Outcast of the Space Wolves Legion

 

 

Organization of the VIII Battalion VII Great Company

The Battalion

The Four Squads

The Destroyers

 

The Boruzian Grenadiers

The Sons of Boruzia

 

The Bleeding Twins

The Campaign

 

The Voices of Istvaan III

++First Message++

++Final log of Lieutenant Damian, III Legion++

Edited by Barabbas Sogalon
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Nice to see some plastics involved with this, brother. I'm also liking the individual pieces of background, too - I have a very similar mindset regarding modelling, fluff and painting, it would seem. 

 

 

The aim is to give every character a piece of fluff and make sure they are remembered as true heroes of the Imperium. Some conversions of Nathaniel Garro, Crysos Morturg and Iacton Qruze may also appear, but won't be part of the 8th Battalion's tale.

 

As quite possibly my stand out favourite character of either FW HH book, I have high expectations of any depiction of Section Leader Morturg. Please don't disappoint. :wink.:

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As Oli said, good mix of parts there. I really like the worn out look without going overboard with the battle damage to unrealistic levels (whatever that may be in 30k setting :D). My only point would be that the green and red parts may benefit from some highlighting/shading.

 

Keep it up mate!

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Nice to see some plastics involved with this, brother. I'm also liking the individual pieces of background, too - I have a very similar mindset regarding modelling, fluff and painting, it would seem. 

 

 

The aim is to give every character a piece of fluff and make sure they are remembered as true heroes of the Imperium. Some conversions of Nathaniel Garro, Crysos Morturg and Iacton Qruze may also appear, but won't be part of the 8th Battalion's tale.

 

As quite possibly my stand out favourite character of either FW HH book, I have high expectations of any depiction of Section Leader Morturg. Please don't disappoint. :wink.:

 

No pressure then...:wink: I have some ideas on how to build our favourite loyalist, just hope they look as good in real life.

 

 

As Oli said, good mix of parts there. I really like the worn out look without going overboard with the battle damage to unrealistic levels (whatever that may be in 30k setting :biggrin.:). My only point would be that the green and red parts may benefit from some highlighting/shading.

 

Keep it up mate!

 

I'll try some highlights on the crest of my next sergeant, if my hand don't start shaking.

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Just a little look into the future...

 

 

[Message sent from the personal Vox of Chieftain Arvan Jarak of the Sons of Horus XXII Company, Istvaan III Atrocity]


++ Chieftain Jarak is dead. By my hand. But do not worry, you will soon join him. As will all Traitors. [Laughter] Have you ever heard of the Dusk Raiders? I doubt it; you Pups of Horus weren’t even born back then. I was. Do you know what our greatest weapon was? Fear. When the sun went down our enemies panicked, their hearts gripped with cold fear at the coming darkness, for they knew that it heralded the utter destruction of their civilization. None of them would live to see the sun rise again. [Laughter] They say Astartes know no fear, that we are incapable of it. Tonight, when the sun goes down on this dead world and twilight is at its darkest, the Dusk Raiders will march again and Astartes will know fear. We are the voice and the clarion call; we are tyrant’s ruin and rival’s fall. [Connection lost] ++

 

[speaker identified as Barabbas Sogalon, former Battalion-commander of the Death Guard and Traitor to Warmaster Horus]

 

 

Now, I got to start working on that backstory.

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VIII BATTALION, VII GREAT COMPANY, XIV LEGION

The 8th Battalion is one of many formations in Battle-Captain Nathaniel Garro’s 7th Great Company. Larger than the battalions of other legions, it has more in common with a full-size Chapter, the 8th is a considerable fighting force numbering about a thousand warriors along with various armoured support. Although capable in several fields of warfare, its specialization lies in brutal cleansing operations where nothing but the complete eradication of the enemy is called for; human and xeno alike. This have resulted in the Battalion’s infamous nickname “The Last Judgement”, a reference to religious texts of Old Earth, for unleashing these Angels of Death is a death sentence to an entire world.

The 8th is led by Battalion-commander Barabbas Sogalon, a Terran veteran known for his ruthless and uncompromising way of war. Barabbas was once a Battle-Captain of the Dusk Raiders, but demoted when Mortarion reorganized the XIV. He is an unwavering traditionalist still living by the ideals of Terra and Unification and refusing to let the ways of the Dusk Raiders be reduced to mere memories. This has made him unpopular among the higher ranking officers of Barbarus-stock and even Mortarion is tiring of his very vocal opinions. As
Battalion-commander, Barabbas has turned the 8th into an extension of his own will and commands such loyalty that any of his warriors are willing to lay down their lives for him. With these deep roots in the old ways, it is not surprising that a lot of the officers in the Battalion are of Terran ancestry, warriors that have stood by the Commander since Crusade began, while the majority of the legionaries come from Barbarus. Differences in blood might have divided some men, but Barabbas has united the Battalion to the pursuit of a single purpose; the extermination of the Emperor’s enemies. A sizeable and important part of the 8th is the Destroyer detachment of Moritat Trabakhal Gurthor, a dangerous and mentally unstable warrior despised and hated by nearly everyone. By having access to the most destructive weaponry created by Man, things that never should have been given form, Gurthor
and his chem-scorched brothers take great pride in their role as literal killers of worlds. Other notable mentions are the four most experienced Tactical Squads called Tartaros, Acheron, Charon and Thanatos.

A few years before the Triumph at Ullanor, the 8th Battalion is transferred to the 90th Expedition Fleet. The official reason is that they are to take command of the fleet in a series of campaigns and serve as a specialized cleansing-formation, but it is whispered that this “transfer” is the result of a long standing argument between Barabbas and Mortarion. Only the Commander knows the truth, and he refuses to speak of it. During this time the Battalion leaves behind them a trail of worlds drowned in fire with banners of victory added in quick succession, fighting alongside the Boruzian Grenadiers of the Imperial Army and once crossing paths with Centurion Markus Apokalian’s 23. Company of the Emperor’s Children. Job, Vanstein, Ninety-Fourteen, the Bleeding Twins and the Paradigma are names filling the legionaries with pride. The Battalion’s crusade comes to a sudden halt when they are recalled to join with the rest of the legion above Istvaan III. Here bonds of brotherhood will be tested, a true hero rise from the shadows and the 8th Battalion’s fate decided for better or worse.

Backstory done, now few snapshots from my desk:

Librarian in need of some paint

gallery_73590_8946_72655.jpg

A sneak peek of the Incineration Squad

gallery_73590_8946_138609.jpg

Next up are the Tactical Support Squad for Loyalty and Treachery.

Edited by Barabbas Sogalon
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@BrotherCaptainArkhan: Sogalon Pattern? I like the sound of that! Since these guys are handling chemical munitions I rekconed they needed some improved equipment to keep the toxic fumes out.

 

@deathspectersgt7: The Tzeentch champion from the chaos marine box. Had to fight to remove the horns.

 

 

I just ordered Massacre along with some reinforcements. Can't wait until it gets here! 

Edited by Barabbas Sogalon
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KILLING A PLANET

PART I

 

 

The ground trembled in its death throes. Black smoke filled the air, so thick that it blotted out the sun. Light came now from thousands of fires across the battlefield and every second new ones would blossom to life. Occasionally, fiery red light from miniature mushroom clouds joined in. Plumes of burning promethium set everything they touched ablaze; the ground, buildings, human flesh. Nothing was safe from their burning hunger. Shells impacted among enemy lines, but instead of showering shrapnel, a roaring inferno followed. Then it was the screams carried on the warm wind. Not the short screams of those hit by gunfire, no, this was the tortured screams of those being burnt alive by crawling phosphex or ravaged by the effects of rad missiles. Chemical fire melted flesh from bone and kept burning long after their victims were nothing but ash, while other beings lay on the charred ground coughing thick, black blood. No quick death for the enemies of Terra. What had once been a verdant world was now a planet-wide funeral pyre in the making. Nothing would ever live here, nothing ever grow, the surface irradiated beyond repair and every trace of civilization burnt to cinders. Toxic fumes choked the once breathable air and granted those not touched by flames an agonizing end to their pitiful lives. Shapes in heavy armour scorched black by fire, marched relentlessly into the inferno with weapons spewing death in all directions. Behind them came a thousand boots that hammered the bones of the dead and dying to dust on the ground.

 

Sergeant Skander Barleti of Tartaros Tactical squad took a deep breath and laughed before donning his crested helmet. It was an old habit to laugh at what mortals called certain death, just to emphasize that the Sons of Barbarus could survive anything. The view made him smile. The Commander had ordered this world to be purged, and Moritat Gurthor’s Destroyers had fulfilled their task with the ruthless efficiency that was expected of them. No one liked the sociopathic Gurthor, but his skills in the art of killing a planet were second to none. For it was an art. Skander wondered if this kind of sanctioned destruction would ever get an official name by the Imperium. A gravel-like voice over the vox dragged him out of his thoughts.

“Admiring the view, Barleti?”

It could only be Kruik, the sergeant of Charon always speaking with barely contained anger.

“Just thinking. You should try it sometime.”

“And you should start killing if you want to have a chance at beating me,” growled Kruik.

Skander searched the battlefield for the older sergeant, finally spotting a group of warriors in Mk. III armour charging into the enemy with blades roaring. They were led by a brute carrying a massive two-headed axe slick with blood. Kruik was a blunt weapon who fought more like a World Eater than a Son of Mortarion.

“Being king of the duelling pit doesn’t count in the real world, Simeon. Step aside and let Tartaros show you the way,” said Skander.

The sergeant of Charon laughed, the sound similar to grinding boulders.

“I’ve been killing since before the Legion came, lad. The citadel is ours,” said Kruik before breaking contact.

Skander refused to let his old rival beat him. He hadn’t risen to command of the Battalion’s finest squad by being second best. Reckless and unorthodox, but never second best. The fighting was close now and he grabbed his trusted bolter in both hands before picking up the pace. The Death Guard would smite the enemy like a relentless wave of ceramite, leaving nothing but broken bodies in their wake. Legionary Marek marched up to his side and gave a curt nod; saluting in the middle of battle was something left to the fops of the III Legion.

“Orders, Sergeant?”

Skander grinned beneath his helmet as he faced the veteran.

“Let us show them how the 8th Battalion kill a planet, brother.”

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  • 2 weeks later...

Update time!

Styx Tactical Support Squad

gallery_73590_8946_136606.jpg

Sergeant Dur-Togan

gallery_73590_8946_87710.jpg

Dur-Togan is the leader of the Battalion’s finest Tactical Support Squad. This veteran from Barbarus knows the strengths and weaknesses of every weapon in the arsenal and uses the knowledge to scourge the battlefield with rays of volkite or searing bolts of plasma, pushing each device to its limits. Only one plasmagun has overheated catastrophically during his time, this being on purpose to create a make-shift breaching charge. It is said that he “speaks to the plasma”, but the truth is far simpler. Dur-Togan has an exceptional affinity for technology and could have been a Techmarine had he not refused, saying he didn’t trust the weak-bloods of the Mechanicum. Impressed, the Commander gave him command of his own squad. The sergeant has a reputation of being dour with a severe lack of humour, existing only to fight for Primarch and Legion.

Primus Medicae Sarpaten

gallery_73590_8946_58402.jpg

Titus Sarpaten is the Commander’s oldest and most trusted advisor. Born in Old Albia, he later became on of the first Apothecaries of the Dusk Raiders and saw the Birth of the Imperium with his own eyes. Sarpaten is an observer, gifted with an analytical mind and uncanny ability to read others, peeling away layers of their personality as if it was a dissection. He rarely speaks aloud among his brothers, preferring the solitude of his laboratories to their company, though when he speaks it is nothing but the cold, hard truth seen with the eyes of a man too familiar with life and death. In battle he changes, fighting like a man possessed against anyone keeping him from reaching the dead and wounded and leaving a trail of corpses cut open with surgical precision in his wake. Indeed, during the purging of Sixty-Six-Ten he fought through dozens of the enemy elite to reach the body of a single legionary, before kneeling beside it with his armour covered in red and calmly extracting the gene-seed as if nothing had happened. He will be among those sent to die with the Commander at Istvaan III.

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KILLING A PLANET

PART II

 

 

It had started raining. The scorched ground turned to mud and got mixed with the blood of a thousand corpses, the torn sacks of meat and twisted bone littering the battlefield. Charred skulls gazed up at the hellish sky with their empty sockets as they drowned in the bloody soup. Skander led Tartaros across the field. They were just one of many squads advancing through the nightmare created by Moritat Gurthor, but they were 1st Squad; the best of the Battalion.

 

"To the right!” legionary Sarrak called out, before taking aim with his heavy bolter.

 

The enemy soldiers, clad in greatcoats and plumed helmets while carrying baroque lasguns, were hacked down by bolter shells in a matter of seconds and their remains left to decorate the dying world. Tartaros kept advancing towards the citadel, a massive construction in the middle of the graveyard that had once been a city. Barrages of phosphex shells lit up the surroundings as they hammered into a line of fortifications along the left flank. Skander looked through the enhanced scope on his bolter and spotted a large group of soldiers charging in the direction of the squad. Had they gone mad? He was about to fire when he saw how unorganized they were, some even stopping or throwing themselves to the ground, and none carried weapons. As the men came closer, it became clear that this was not an attack; it was panicked men fleeing from an unseen foe. Skander saw dark blood flow from mouths and nostrils, eyes dissolve and skin rot, before the mortals fell dead in the mud. Only a gas attack from the Destroyers claimed lives in this manner. The Moritat was probably savouring the results like a connoisseur of fine wine. A man coughing mouthfuls of blood fell in front of Skander, who stomped his head to paste without a second thought.

 

“Marek, Zev; take point,” said Skander and fell in behind the two veterans.

 

He opened a vox-channel to squads Thanatos and Styx who, according to the display in his visor, were fighting at the frontlines with the main assault.

 

“Still holding the line, Caleb?”

 

A calmand gruff voice answered him.

 

“It is my duty to do so while you younglings hunt for glory,” said Harkus of Thanatos.

 

Skander opened fire into a concentration of soldiers, watching their bodies explode in pink mist.

 

“Can’t let Charon take the citadel first. You know how Kruik gets.”

 

“Did he charge up the centre?”

 

“Aye, any word on his position?” asked Skander.

 

He got a glimpse of the lower parts of his own armour while reloading, the worn ivory-coloured ceramite covered in blood-filled mud. It was the same for his men.

 

“He was joining the Breachers last we heard,” answered Dur-Togan, before bellowing orders to Styx.

 

Rays from volkite weaponry scythed through enemy lines to the west, the humans exploding in a chaos of ash and fire. Volleys of massed bolter-fire from dozens of legionaries followed. On the right flank the majority of the Destroyers and their Incinerators kept on with their hellish work. A sudden thought made Skander grin.

 

“The XVIII wouldn’t like what we are doing here. Sometimes I wonder if they are true Astartes,” he said and laughed. “What was the name of that captain again?”

 

“Ko’shtan. Turga Ko’shtan, softest heart of all the Legiones Astartes,” said Harkus.

 

Dur-Togan uttered what could be interpreted as a hoarse laughter.

 

“The Commander sure showed him!”

 

Skander allowed himself a few seconds to think back on the campaign they had fought with the Salamanders. Their allies had been led by ‘the

honourable’ captain Ko’shtan, a warrior whose idealistic view on the Crusade and misplaced sympathy with the common people had caused some tension with the Battalion. Apparently were the cleansing of human planets not how the Imperium should be built, and the Salamander had been furious after the Moritat wiped out a city that surrendered. The Commander’s response was legendary among the 8th; I was there when the Imperium was born. Don’t try to lecture me on how to fight this war, little dragon.

 

“Ko’shtan would have wept if he saw us now. Wonder if the Sons of Vulkan cry red tears,” said Skander as he shot the head off an enemy officer.

 

The outer defences of the citadel were close and behind the many bunkers towered massive battlements; breaching them would prove a challenge. Sudden explosions tore up the ground around Tartaros and volleys of lasfire hammered into their armour, leaving behind fresh scorch marks.

 

“Duty calls, brothers. I’ll get back to you when we have taken the citadel,” said Skander and cut the link to his fellow sergeants.

 

He grinned, for the purging had finally become a battle. The artillery strikes intensified as the squad advanced, but Skander ignored the rain of shells and kept gunning down anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in his sights. Only when some sort of kinetic weaponry joined in did he reluctantly lead his men to cover in a crater, where heaps of human remains lay half-buried in the mud.

 

“They sure are resisting!” shouted Azar, the squad’s meltagunner.

 

Skander’s gaze was locked on the fortifications blocking his way.

 

“Of course they are! We are trying to destroy their home!”

 

He had two options. Waiting for the units following behind Tartaros would give Charon too much of a head-start, which was unacceptable, so he went with the old classic; brute force. He turned to the legionary carrying the nuncio.

 

“Sileas, get Nahshon on the vox and tell him we need his Medusas to clear some ground!”

 

The legionary obeyed and Skander looked back at the target while he waited for the Master of Signal to bring the pain. It took only a few seconds before the first shells struck and engulfed the defence line in a storm of destruction. There was a certain beauty about artillery barrages tearing apart the constructions of man.

 

“Move out!” ordered Skander and stormed out of the crater, his eyes fixed on the walls ahead.

 

He was a fighter. His entire life had been a fight for survival, from the bleak childhood on Barbarus to the most hellish of battlefields, and he had always prevailed. Not because of his weapons or armour or even his trans-human physique, but through pure willpower. He was Death Guard. A damned wall wasn’t going to stop him from fulfilling his duty. The barrage ended and it became clear that Nahshon had been very thorough, even throwing in some phosphex shells that turned men into living torches. Remaining soldiers who still fought were quickly felled by bolter rounds. Skander backhanded a man in the head as he ran, crushing the weak bone with ease. Part of him wanted to remove the helmet and breathe in the death-filled air, but such distractions would have to wait until the citadel had fallen. The sound of grinding treads made him look to the left where a Fellblade covered in old battle-damage rolled into view flanked by two Glaives. The Fourth Horseman was Siege Breaker Isearg’s command vehicle and the most feared war machine in the Battalion’s arsenal, having reaped countless lives since the day it rolled from the factories on Mars.

 

“On the wall, sergeant!” said Marek and pointed.

 

Skander saw an enemy tank, not too different from the Malcadors used by the Imperium, appear on the battlements and point its main gun at the attacking legionaries. The Horseman fired first. A single shot blasted apart the wall and destroyed the tank, sending the smoking wreckage crashing front first into the ground below. It took Skander less than a second to discover their way inside the citadel.

 

“Draw blades! Marek, Josip, Zev; you’re with me!”

 

He was already on his way up the ramp created by the wrecked tank when he gave the order, ignoring the incoming laser beams. After climbing the last few meters and emptying his bolter into a line of soldiers in the process, did he finally reach the top of the broken wall. Raindrops from the black sky beat against his battered armour as he realized that he was the first legionary inside the citadel, for there was no sign of Kruik and his warriors. Skander pulled his power sword and let a Barbarusan war cry leave the helmet’s vox grille before

throwing himself at the enemy.

 

 

 

In the chaos of battle was the Medicae’s duty the only constant. Titus Sarpaten knelt by the fallen legionary lying on his back in the mud and began the ‘ritual’ he had performed so many times before. The cause of death was simple; killed by a high power projective clean through the forehead. Sarpaten moved his gaze to the markings on the legionary’s armour, barely visible beneath the damage from past battles. Brother Tapio belonged to 11th Tactical who had taken heavy casualties at the front lines, but such was expected when the Legion went to war.

 

Sarpaten activated the chainsaw on his Narthecium and started opening the fallen warrior’s chest plate. The Seekers of Tantalus stood in a wide semi-circle around him, their modified bolters raised and ready. A Predator Infernus in the livery of the Destroyers rolled past on its way to purge the locals with toxic fire. The Medicae had heard reports that the new gas he had developed for the Moritat was performing well, but it could always be improved; lethality, attack points and horror of its victims’ death being just a few possibilities. He looked up for a few seconds, just in time to see a heavy bombardment hammer down on the defences outside the citadel. Reaching the heart of the enemy was mostly symbolic as the planet was dead anyway.

 

He finished with the chest plate, brought forth the Reductor and set about removing Tapio’s Progenoid Glands so that the warrior’s death would not be forfeit. Sarpaten was part of a dying breed, having fought in the last days of Unification under the banner of the Dusk Raiders and witnessed Mankind set out to reclaim its birth right among the starts. A moment of melancholy filled him. It had been another Legion in another age, for never again would Astartes wage war on Terra; the thought of it impossible. He harvested the last Gland, stood up and ordered the Seekers to follow. His duty to the Legion was far from over this day.

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Librarian Soroush Hormuzd of the Thousand Sons

gallery_73590_8946_86348.jpg

Not much is known about this Son of Magnus, other than him being a Terran and respected member of his Legion’s 1st Fellowship. Hormuzd already served with the 90th Expedition when the 8th Battalion arrived and his presence does not sit well with the Barbarus-born, especially sergeant Kruik of Squad Charon. The Librarian, a Corvidae, has not been part of his Legion for years, instead wandering the galaxy on a personal quest for knowledge about the past. Hormuzd remains a mystery despite years of fighting alongside the Death Guard, as is the sealed book he always carry with him, suspected by many to be a tome of dark knowledge. And what of the keys in his belt? His fate after the Battalion’s departure for Istvaan III is not known.

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Librarian Soroush Hormuzd of the Thousand Sons

gallery_73590_8946_86348.jpg

Not much is known about this Son of Magnus, other than him being a Terran and respected member of his Legion’s 1st Fellowship. Hormuzd already served with the 90th Expedition when the 8th Battalion arrived and his presence does not sit well with the Barbarus-born, especially sergeant Kruik of Squad Charon. The Librarian, a Corvidae, has not been part of his Legion for years, instead wandering the galaxy on a personal quest for knowledge about the past. Hormuzd remains a mystery despite years of fighting alongside the Death Guard, as is the sealed book he always carry with him, suspected by many to be a tome of dark knowledge. And what of the keys in his belt? His fate after the Battalion’s departure for Istvaan III is not known.

Sweeeet. I have to say, when I saw the new Librarian model when it first came out I was rather unimpressed with it, but with just a few bitz swap you've made it look awesome with minimal conversion work! The fluff segment is also rather intriguing, I wonder what a Psyker is doing hanging around the XIVth Legion, especially giving their Primarch's attitude towards Psykers...

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