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Flint13

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Well met then Brothers! ( and Sisters and Undecided )

A man should be judged by the enemies he makes, not by the friends he has ;)

 

I will be stocking up on skulls and flayed skin now. LOTS of skulls and flayed skin. And sharp objects....

Loyalist helmets are fine with skull markings. I feel the VIII uses less corrupted wargear anyway so i never mind the occasional normal helmet here and there.

 

Agreed they sure do use less Corrupted wargear and that's what i was thinking... But, I have about... 55 marines to play with lol. I was trying to give a few something a little different than just a paint job.:tongue.:

wow.. really?:ohmy.:  Thank you for the offer Brother, but i think i'll be okay! I bought a box of chaos marines to help with the conversions but that still leaves about 30 to convert solo:happy.:.

 

I really truly appreciate the offer! This Forum ceases to amaze me! :biggrin.:

 

Loyalist helmets are fine with skull markings. I feel the VIII uses less corrupted wargear anyway so i never mind the occasional normal helmet here and there.

 

Agreed they sure do use less Corrupted wargear and that's what i was thinking... But, I have about... 55 marines to play with lol. I was trying to give a few something a little different than just a paint job.:tongue.:

 

 

Only have 18 guys modeled so far, exactly half of them have loyalist helmets (all of them have loyalist armour parts though) but then again I don't see my warband as particulary corrupted when compared to most chaos marines so the "we have scrounged the armour of dead loyalists for ages"-look is what I'm going for. Will try some conversions with wings from the Vampire Counts Grave Guard heads when I get the bits for it

Yeah, I'll second what Bear mentioned, the Grave Guard kits as well as the Wight Cavalry from the Vampire Counts range are *aces* for more subtle batwings for our legionaries. 

 

I really like the hodge podge look you can get from mixing different styles, marks and components of armor. Everything from MK8 loyalist tech, to resin FW heresy armor to plastic chaos marines is all fair game for us. Have fun an experiment a bit!

 

And yes, this is why we're a great community, Lev. If you ever need help with stuff, just ask. We're a stabby, but caring bunch :wink:

What are you talking about? If I stab a buddy... say... Augustus, it's going to be with *far* more care, fore thought and dedication than if I were to just stab a random Ultramarine or Imperial Fist.

 

Since Augustus knows it's coming, it keeps him on his toes and gives me better practice. :wink:

 

What are you talking about? If I stab a buddy... say... Augustus, it's going to be with *far* more care, fore thought and dedication than if I were to just stab a random Ultramarine or Imperial Fist.

 

Since Augustus knows it's coming, it keeps him on his toes and gives me better practice. :wink:[/

 

Still a better love story....

What are you talking about? If I stab a buddy... say... Augustus, it's going to be with *far* more care, fore thought and dedication than if I were to just stab a random Ultramarine or Imperial Fist.

 

Since Augustus knows it's coming, it keeps him on his toes and gives me better practice. :wink:

You'll always be the person I'll stab in the back with the most TLC, Flint. You know that right? :wub.: :cool.:

Wow. This got busy!

 

Do you mean the thread itself or Flint and Augustus's budding romance/double homicide? :laugh.:

 

 

 

Hmm, that's funny, I could have sworn I heard blades being sharpened just now. :ermm:  Ah it's probably just my imagination... :ph34r.:

See this is why the VIII Legion has no trouble attracting souls to it's ranks. We don't discriminate or show preference to who gets the knife slid tenderly between the 3rd and 4th ribs....

 

On a side note, I really need to get my plog updated, the first 2k of the 14th are midnight clad and prepared to taste blood

++++++++VIII Legiones Astartes++++++++

Complience Action Theta - Rho - Seven - Three - One - Nine - Epsilon

Target: Darvenal System; 4 Habitable Worlds

Designated Commander: First Captain Sevatar

Sub Commanders: Malcharion, Ithilion, Ophion, Hurophion, Toriel

Notable Fleet Elements: Nightfall, Shroud of Eventide, Covenant of Blood

 


Planetfall +14:47:54 Terran Standard Hours

 

For the first time in over a century, Barbastellan fought free. 124 years fighting inside Terminator warplate had allowed him to forget the dexterity, the agility that he could bring to bear. He had devoted decades into conditioning himself to maintain as much agility as possible within the confines of the heavier armour. Now he felt liberated. More, he felt powerful. The daggers blurred as they snapped out, deflected by vambraces or turned aside by the steel in the hands of his foe, never kissing flesh or the weak points in the ceramite. Every slash and thrust launched with incredible speed and powered by the brutal strength only a transhuman weapon could summon. Barbastellan had no idea the name of the blade form. Neither did he care. It was just one of many that he had studied in the practice cages so long ago, the scars of the legion butchers still raw upon his flesh as they told him of his new purpose and the war cry he would carry through the galaxy. For the Emperor. A poor joke even then, now it had only grown more bitter with age.

 

Snarling as his cold rage sent fresh spikes of adrenaline through his blood, he leapt forwards again.

 

Planetfall +00:14:18Terran Standard Hours

 

Liagond did not like guests. The last time he was imposed upon to provide "entertainment" for a party of the III Legion, the peacocks had all but run away cursing him as a twisted psychopath unfit to march with the Legions. He was a killer, nothing more, albeit a supremely talented one. He was a headsman for precisely that reason. If their so-called allies were turned by his deeds what of the enemy? They would be cowering and soiling themselves at the mere though of him running amok.

 

So it was with barely restrained contempt that he eyed the 10 figures emerging from the dazzling mist of teleportation. His initial urge to gut them subsided when he saw the rearing Nostraman Lions decorating the midnight plate. Atramentar. :cuss. Summoning what he thought was a carefully prepared look of curiosity he approached the sergeant.

 

Barbastellan looked around, his autosensors finally brought back into focus after the teleport. They were on target. The drop pod lay in a shallow crater some eighty feet away however it appeared the other pods had been scattered, the claws inside left to make their way to their targets haphazardly. Unlikely by accident he thought grimly, the edge of anger not quite bleached from his thoughts. The claw's headsman approached, feigning curiosity, badly. The contempt all but written across the locking of his face muscles. Wasting little time on greetings, Barbastellan resorted to bluntness; "Report Headsman"

 

Liagond blinked, unsure if it was a poor joke or whether this idiot actually expected obedience. He cocked an eyebrow, " I think you lions have made a mistake. Only the rats and fleas are supposed to down in the mud at this point of our little operation" Several of the Atramentar laughed, he could see it in the slight shaking of their heads and shoulders even if nothing came out of the vox grilles. 

 

Barbastellan removed his helm and mag locked it to his thigh, eyeing the Headsman flatly. "Us lions as you so hilariously put it, are here because we were told to be here. We are here to keep you rats from drowning in the sea of bullets poised to break against you in the next hour or so if you're caught breaching the city walls." This time Liagond did stop and stare at him, something approaching cynicism curling his lip into a sneer.

 

"We were told that the whole point of a small preliminary wave was to sneak over the walls and make a mess of the civvies, keeping the guns pointed at us instead of everything coming afterwards."

 

"Plans change, especially when the plan is to leave almost a hundred brothers down here when hell breaks loose," Barbastellan resisted the urge to grab the Terror Squad leader by the gorget  and shake him until he saw reason; "Listen brother, you may not think much of the aid we offer but as of right now you have little choice in the matter. Make contact with the others, order them to converge here."

 

Liagond looked ready to spit before he was interrupted "That order comes from Sevatar. Feel free to make any objections with him once we're back in orbit. If you make it back to orbit of course. It's likely we'll be down here for at least another eight or nine hours. More than time enough for us to bond"

 

Barbastellan turned away from the muttering Headsman and looked at his squad. "Rely that order. And inform the Nightfall that we are dirtside," he glanced briefly at the warrior to his left, the long steel talons embedded into the oversized gauntlets slowly extending, "Nazvun, watch the Headsman. If he seems ready to compromise us, kill him. Quickly." 

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