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A Tale of 18 Hobbyists - WIP project thread

Dosjetka

By Dosjetka
in + WORKS IN PROGRESS +

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Corsair Veteran

Corsair

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Pictures still aren't perfect (really bad lighting here at the moment, unfortunately), but I think they'll do:

 

 
 

Captain And Librarian 1

V Company Command//Epistolary Oren Maddox & Captain M'Hael Vraqqon

 

 

 

Vraqqon 1

Vraqqon 3

Vraqqon 2

M'hael Vraqqon,
Tallyman, Master of the Salt in the Wounds, Wielder of Reclaimer, Captain of the Fifth Company

 

 

“This looks like trouble,” I whispered.  Ride-Major Ogo Phelps of the Fifth Khaliath Rapid Armoured did not respond, but the way he studiously looked away while brushing non-existent specs of dust from his tan uniform was evidence enough that he agreed with my assessment.


The trouble in question was an armoured colossus, standing at least eight feet tall and appearing to mass as much as a Chimera.  The grinding gears of his ancient, scarred plate accompanied each thudding footfall, the cacophony combining with the iron and midnight blue of his armour to give the impression of a walking thundercloud, an impression only reinforced by the expression on the Space Marine’s face.


“Oh Golden-bloody-Throne, Jharal, that is not what I wanted to see this early in the morning,” muttered Phelps, now playing with the scabbard of his sword, ensuring that it was sitting just right upon his hip.


Despite being more than twenty metres away, that over-large head snapped toward Phelps, the hint of a sneer forming. Could he have heard?


Throne, he had! I elbowed my fellow Major, as surreptitiously as I could.


Phelps finally looked up at what was charging towards us and went greyer than the Space Marine’s armour.


“Tell me, Ride-Major,” the giant bent at the waist, bringing his face into line with Phelps’, like a parent setting himself to lecture an unruly child. I took an involuntary step back. “What it is about my arrival that displeases you this fine day?”


“N-n-n-nothing, my Lord!” Gurgled Phelps, shaking under that stare.  Up close, I could see the scars on the Space Marine’s face, the metal studs hammered into his heavy forehead. The amethyst of his eyes.


“’N-n-n-nothing, my Lord’?” The warrior mimicked, his voice rising into a grotesque squeak, causing me to wince and Phelps to begin mouthing a prayer.  “Does your tongue then wag for the sake of it, mortal?”


“No, my Lord!” No hint of hesitation this time.  Phelps knew he was walking a knife edge.


“Then why, Major?”  Several other Space Marines had joined their leader, watching the exchange intently through featureless helms, their bolters clutched in fists that could crush a man’s skull.


“B-because your Chapter seems not to get along with the others, my Lord,” Phelps whispered as he was surrounded, too scared to realise the truth could well damn him.


“And?” growled the warrior.


“And because you are a terrifying bastard, my Lord.”


“And so the truth comes out!” The Space Marine crowed, rearing back to his full height.  “I am, in fact, ‘a terrifying bastard’.”


The other Space Marines laughed harshly at this.  I stood parade ground-straight, staring into the middle distance and trying to ignore the impending death of my fellow Guard officer. It was a shame; I’d quite liked Phelps.


“You are wise to fear the coming of the Tempest, little mortal.”  The warrior said, hands gripping the haft of a spear more than double my height.
Phelps was deathly pale, but somehow managed to stand straight and stare the superhuman warrior in the eye.  After a long moment, the Space Marine nodded.


“Follow us in, and bring your little friend who tries so very hard not to stare.”


I did not realise he was referring to me until I felt the iron-hard grip upon my shoulder, shoving me toward the main pavilion.


“The Tempest are owed a debt by our brothers,” growled Captain Vraqqon, his mortal cargo in tow. “Perhaps your wisdom will be enough to stop me from claiming their heads.”

 

 

Maddox 1

Maddox 3

Maddox 2

Epistolary Oren
Maddox, Walker of the Darkest Dreaming

 

 

One.


The waves of the Empyrean crashed over Oren Maddox, coruscating arcs of pure emotion threatening to drag him under. The press was overpowering. Violent. The Warp did not take kindly to his intrusion here and it did not hesitate to prove it.


He felt his feet – his actual feet, in this instance; he was there in the flesh, such as it was – slip out from under him. Metaphysical waters filled his mouth, pushed into his lungs, threatened to drown his soul.


It was okay, this time. He expected to be submerged.


He smiled as he sensed the carrion-daemons coming for him; too weak to have considered an attack before they thought him overwhelmed.


Two.


He tore the veil open with the spiked head of his force-staff, nothing of subtlety to the movement. As he shot through, jetpack propelling him in a graceful arc, the snow swirled around him, seemingly in slow motion; a momentary side-effect of his transition back to reality.


Maddox put it to good use.


Three.


He had calculated exactly three seconds to cross the hab-dome – now shattered by the assault of the Tempest, unleashing the hellish snowstorm upon the once-serene farmland within – and, as was usual, he was proven correct.


Maddox smiled within his helm as he threw his staff, the length tearing through the back of a traitor Terminator. Mostly correct; he had anticipated being within melee range.


“Showing off again, Librarian?” Captain Vraqqon’s spear took the head of another Terminator, his storm bolter reaping through the heretical farmers that swarmed about them like the insects they cultivated for protein.


“Aye, Captain, that I am,” Maddox laughed as he landed, his power sword cleaving through the chainsword of a renegade, his armour enough to deflect the gladius held in the traitor’s other hand. The Librarian’s green-glowing blade continued right on through shoulder, chest, hip, and out the other side. “What use is walking the darkest dreaming if I cannot use it to slay heretics?”


“I have often wondered as to your use, Brother Maddox.” Vraqqon grinned, his face covered in gore that was not his own.  His Sternguard – the elite of the Fifth Company – formed up around him, relic bolters already opening up on the next group of traitors. Truly the treacherous Angels of Sorrow had stood no chance against the might of the Tempest. “Perhaps you should demonstrate some more and help me decide whether to keep you?”


Maddox did not respond, instead summoning his staff back to his hand with a thought. His eyes scanned the battlefield, piercing the swirling snow and clouds of dirty smoke.


There! A pocket of traitors, carving through the air upon steel wings and dirty flame.  They engaged one of the Assault Squads and reaped a fearsome toll in the opening moments.


“Aye, Captain.” Maddox whispered, his mind whirling with calculations.  Staff spinning in his hand, eyes leaking an eldritch light through the visor of his helm, Maddox tore a hole in reality and flew through into madness.


One.

 

The_Chaplain Venerable Brother

The_Chaplain

Posted
Posted

It's looking good mate, your deffinately making a stamp with your chapter

Seconded, I'm gonna have to step my game up when I get back to working on mine, getting a little envious haha.

 

What color ink are you going to wash the robe? brown/black to mute it or blue/purple to make it "pop"?

Corsair Veteran

Corsair

Posted
Posted

Looking great, love the conversion.

 

I must admit that seeing him split in two like that makes part of me love the idea of a Chaplain being bisected by a tyranid or some such and having his legs replaced with a rocket.

 

Load him into a Whirlwind and away he goes!

Corsair Veteran

Corsair

Posted
Posted

Or, that could be a wicked Dreadnought conversion, too!

Always wanted to do that using a Dreadknight as a base; instead of a marine piloting it, it's instead be a mashed up torso with wires and gunk hanging out of it

 

Only problem would be justifying why it would exist instead of being a proper armoured dreadnought chassis haha

geektom Venerable Brother

geektom

Posted
Posted

See, I was thinking along the same lines... Because my Storm Brothers are White Scars successors, it doesn't happen often that they are willing to be interred into a sarcophagus- but what it it was more "open air"?

 

I was also thinking of modifying one on treads or wheels instead of the big feet to make it more cavalry-like...

chaplainmikey Venerable Brother

chaplainmikey

Posted
Posted

That Chaplain conversion is looking excellent so far Geektom!

 

Have to admit that my Tyranids have being getting all of my attention lately but I will try to make a start on my commitment for this month asap.

 

Keep up the good work guys! :)

GhostMalone Novitiate

GhostMalone

Posted
Posted

I'm officially pulling out guys, I thought I'd offer you guys my personal thanks for helping me stick to building as close to a list as I have.

 

Thank you so much for all your praise and criticisms but I'll still be around just not modelling or playing or anything etc etc.

 

If you need advice or just want to contact do the old PM button and I'll get the notification email.

 

Ave Mortarion Brothers

-Taron

geektom Venerable Brother

geektom

Posted
Posted

I'm officially pulling out guys, I thought I'd offer you guys my personal thanks for helping me stick to building as close to a list as I have.

 

Thank you so much for all your praise and criticisms but I'll still be around just not modelling or playing or anything etc etc.

 

If you need advice or just want to contact do the old PM button and I'll get the notification email.

 

Ave Mortarion Brothers

-Taron

So bummed! Corrsponding with you has been a real highlight, Jaspcat.

GhostMalone Novitiate

GhostMalone

Posted
Posted

I'd like that a lot actually, I'd love to have a good beer and play some good games with my Aussie breathren, just PM me and I'll give you my number for if your ever in SA.

 

 

I had a package arrive from FW with my death shroud and heavy flamers.... I may be back but I'm just really tired of the hobby (but can't stay away from the B&C) and the people in Adelaide.

 

But that may change as I'm still painting DA for the cousin and he's having another intro game tonight with me.

 

He's part of the reason I returned after 10 years and I don't want him growing up with :cusss as influences and he texts me everyday asking advice with list building fluff and tactics :)

 

He's one of the few good ones and I don't want him poisoned by 40k douches (you guys are the good 40k douches :P I joke) the support I've received is unrealistic and it makes it all the more harder to walk away

NovemberIX Venerable Brother

NovemberIX

Posted
Posted

Jasp, I am sorry to hear that you'll be out, your hard work knocking it out nature of modeling and painting always made me make sure I was keeping my game up. You sir have undeniable skill and I hope you the best of it in the future and your triumphant return. If I ever make it down to the upside down land full of anti-human fauna (seriously? dropbears?!) I'd love to buy you a beer, or should you ever make it out to the lone star state the beer and the BBQ are on me :) and who knows maybe I'll bust out with my DIY heresy list guys for what may be their first and only game.

 

 

(actually... That brings a thought a BnC organized weekend of brotherhood, beer, and battling...)

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