++ The Murderers' Call - A Night Lords Community ++

[Larkyn]

I'm not sure most people would even notice that, especially since that bit is probably fairly small.

 

I had to look really hard to see it, I doubt it would even be too visible once painted.

[Augustus b'Raass]

I'm not sure most people would even notice that, especially since that bit is probably fairly small.

Really? It was the first thing I saw when I looked at that bit. It popped right into my face

 

But look, I'm not saying that he should, I'm saying he could. If he doesn't mind, than fine. But suppose he was trying to win a prize with the model, is a perfectionist, or just wants his models to be what they should be, than he'd have a perfectly valid reason to ask for a replacement. And since those conditions could hold for anyone, I don't think FW would see any good reason not to send him a perfect replacement. Their mission statement is, after all, to be the best miniature company in the world... And you don't become or stay that way if you're selling non-perfect material.

 

And, as Wicced pointed out, then he'd have two :tu:

Edited February 6, 2015 by Augustus b'Raass

[Balthamal]

Ah it took me a good while to notice that, as with any weapon from FW, my first concern is it not being bent at 89 degree angles or plain snapped off like has happened with the Palatine Blade/Phoenix Guard weapons.

 

Personally I don't mind a small imperfection like that, from looking at it up close it almost makes the grip look like a spiral which could be cool. As for getting two, I'd prefer to keep just the one for this particular type, it works better as a unique piece. Now if only they'd release a pack of them....

[Balthamal]

And I'm back in the game

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

The screaming still echoed from the black stone as the warrior stalked his way from the uppermost chambers of the fortress, although fortress implied solidity, a bulwark against any darkness that might besiege it. That was a lie. This fortress was the darkness. It was not the first of its kind either. Across the span of humanity’s galaxy there had been twenty such bastions, ranging from monumental mountains hollowed out with plasteel and fire through to behemoths that sailed the void as apex predators, defying comprehension with the fact they had been crafted by man. That had changed now of course. Over half were nothing more than smoking rubble or scorched bedrock, entire worlds paying the blood price for its son’s crimes. Some had even been set to the torch by their masters, refusing to yield what they had built to their enemies. And one, one had been annihilated at the command of the king who had resided there, his death sentence a fitting punishment for the sins of his subjects.

 

This place was a pale imitation of what had come before however. All pretence of gothic grandeur and savage splendour had been done away with. This was somewhere that the darkest of evils were visited on its unwilling guests. Lasiurius didn’t know if the fortress had a name. He had his own name for it though: The Black Palace. It seemed appropriate once one entered its gates, at least one who made it inside without being destined for the flaying tombs below. He only dimly recalled that the world was Tsagualsa, having not been back here since before Terra, before Sheol, before the Legion was broken.

 

Sevatar had said that it would be a fine place for rats to crawl and die. Like everything with the dead First Captain, it was hard to tell if he had been joking. The Duke of Blades was not in a joking mood this night though. He had stood amongst the remaining regents, captains and princes of the VIII Legion and listened to their diseased father’s last testament. He was going sit on his throne and let an assassin whore gut him, all to prove some grand moralistic point to the brothers who would just spit on him and a father who wouldn’t even know anyway. Madness. There had been a small part of him, the part that hadn’t sunk into the blackness of his soul like his pride or his hatred. That part had hoped, fervently, foolishly, that others would be willing to end this foolishness. But no. He had been disappointed, as so many times before. None of them had the stomach to stand and debate with their sire. Barbastellan didn’t judge them; he was just as craven. Better to live and know when courage had its place not invite a stupid death before the remains of the VIII Legion. He had acknowledged the captains he respected; Moldoro, Hashec Tor, Kald, Octiz, The Redcrow, Prixus and exchanged barbed glares with those he despised. Brothers of neither stripe had presented the opportunity he desired. The queen bitch would butcher the Primarch and he was content to let events play out.

 

Lasiurius had no intention of being on the world, or even in the same Segmentium when the aftermath finally came. Word would spread, as word always did, of the Primarch’s demise. The Imperium would be emboldened, dangerously so. There were still Primarch’s alive in the material galaxy. They might have feared to face the Night Haunter and the remains of his Legion on their own soil but now? Dorn. Russ. Gulliman. They would give the arm cry and broken Legions or not at their backs, no one would refuse. Lasiurius had seen fifteen of the Primarchs on the battlefield and had no desire to face even one of them down without a world breaking arsenal of weaponry pointed at them. No. With Curze dead they would come. And they would lay waste to this whole system just for the perceived sin of sheltering a Legion of killers.

 

The Forsaken would need to be half a galaxy away when that happened. He had his entire company on the surface stripping as many provisions from the armouries and apothecarions as they could without undue attention being paid to them. If that happened then they would all die and some opportunistic whoreson would take his ship with barely a whimper. His ship. That still took some getting used to.

 

His revere was interrupted by the heavy tread of warplate behind him, interspaced with a click-click-click. The sound of claws being tapped on the stone walls. Turning slowly, he felt his sub dermal implants prickle as combat narcotics and adrenaline accelerants flooded his blood stream. Keeping his hands away from the collection of blades chained and mag-locked to his armour took an effort that brought a snarl to his face, hidden behind the skull of his helm. Now. Of all the times, why now.

 

“I notice you do not linger to hear our father’s final commands…….brother.” The voice was deep, surprisingly so given the slender build of the warrior speaking. But the warrior was Astartes, slender for their kind meant leaden with muscle and power among any other species.

 

Barbastellan cursed bitterly to himself, knowing the confrontation was inevitable, the only shock was that it had taken this long to come about. Spite of this kind rarely lay dormant for long. Keeping his voice as level as possible he replied; “I have no intention of obeying the Primarch’s commands now than I have for the past century Sahaal.”

 

Zso Sahaal, The Talonmaster, Captain of the First Company and Master of the Raptors tilted his head and stared at the captain. Trying to decide if he had been jesting or eyeing him as all creatures’ asses’ predator or prey, Lasiurius couldn’t say.

 

“Such disgusting insolence, it’s a wonder the Primarch, our father hasn’t given you his tender attentions before now.” Sahaal was smiling, he could hear it in his voice.

 

“The Primarch told me my own death, somewhere in the Imperial Palace, scores of wounds on my flesh and my head at the feet of another Primarch. Who he refused to say. So unless he plans on contradicting himself that’s where I fall. He does like to justify himself doesn’t he, lying isn’t part of his affliction,” he paused, letting the honest savagery flavour his voice, “And he is no father of mine.”

 

Sahaal hissed, the sound primal and urgent. “Perhaps I’ll take your head and save him the effort. Then no one will be-

He broke off as Barbastellan’s laughter boomed through the chamber. Menacingly he began to stalk forwards, the smell of ozone announcing his claws were powered. Bunching his shoulders he prepared to spring but froze as a flash of blue-silver came to rest at his throat. He’d barely heard the laughter die away before the blade hovered an inch from taking his life.

 

“You could never best me Talonmaster. There were only a score or so who could kill me before we went to Terra. Now? Who knows? Perhaps a dozen. Is that your mad plan? You think that by killing some Atramentar the rest will bend the knee before you?” Barbastellan didn’t even attempt to hide the contempt from dripping through his tone. “The Atramentar died with Sevatar. If you wanted them so badly you should have tried to kill him yourself. Not that you’d have come anywhere near accomplishing such a feat.”

 

“The Atramentar are the First Company and I am its captain! They are mine! I am Sevatar’s succe-“

 

Sahaal never managed to finish the word before he was flat on his back, his autosenses buzzing static and his ears ringing from the clang of adamantium and ceramite. The flat of the blade. He hadn’t even seen the blow begun let alone had time to parry it.

 

“Princes don’t have successors faryuth. Only kings. And even our Primarch is a king no longer.” The words were quiet yet loaded with meaning. Lasiurius didn’t quite know why he was bothering to try and enlighten the First Captain. But he was still Atramentar. There was no leaving the Atramentar save through death. He sheathed Arianyr, his anger spent. “Linger if you wish Sahaal, there is no glory to claim and only a fool’s death when retribution finally arrives. But you won’t have the lordship you crave over the First.”

 

The Talonmaster slowly rose to his feet, the hatred burning off him in waves. He kept his claws fully cycled, no trusting that there would be no dishonourable blow. “If I can’t have the First, then I shall make do with the rest of the Legion. Its throne will soon be requiring a new occupant!”

 

“Now, now brothers.” The new speaker walked slowly towards them, his steps entirely muffled by the heavy tread of the eight warriors in Terminator plate ringing him. His tone carried nothing but amusement. “It would be impolite to be too overly covetous of the Corona Nox whilst it still sits atop the Primarch’s brow wouldn’t you say?”

 

Sahaal turned his burning look at the warriors marching towards him. Warriors by all rights he should have commanded. Even without the Atramentar at his whim the other captains were beneath his authority.

 

“I don’t require your lectures on matters of the Legion’s future captain,” he snarled, the rank a curse from his lips, “I am a valued part of the Primarch’s inner circle.”

 

The captain chuckled. “The Primarch’s chosen are hardly an auspicious collection. And it’s hardly small either. Why, did you not see the dozens in attendance this night? Now I have business with Lasiurius here, so unless you wish to be a part of that. Leave. Now. Or I suspect he will kill you.”

 

Barbastellan said nothing as Sahaal backed away. Only when the Talonmaster had almost reached the break in the corridor ahead did he throw some words at his departing form; “I look forward to seeing you again Zso Sahaal. The next time I shall not be as concerned with dirtying my blade with faryuth blood.”

 

Silence was his only answer, silence broken by the purring of the armour around him as the Terminators moved to ensure the privacy of the two captains. As one passed, he removed his helm and looked him in the eye.

 

“I see you Malak. Go with the night.”

 

Malak of the Atramentar, popped the seals on his heavy helm with a gusting of air and nodded back to his brother.

 

“I see you Barb. Bring the night”

 

Atramentar courtesy dispensed with, both replaced their helms. Barbastellan offered nothing more than nods to the others, not recognising them from the Nostramon script wound around the lion on their shoulder guards. Hardly surprising. It had been more than a century since he was counted among their number and their ranks had been decimated on more than one occasion in that time.

 

As they moved away he turned to his fellow captain. “I wasn’t expecting you to be leaving the Primarch’s gathering early as well brother. He still has something of a soft spot for you”

 

“I doubt our Primarch has any spots for anyone. He’s not the most welcoming of his kind after all. No I came to bid you farewell before you depart again. I know that your claws have been busy resupplying these past nights.”

 

“How did you know that? I’m not exactly hiding it but I’m not announcing to the whole Legion that I’ll be putting to space before all this madness descends on us”

“My apothecary told me. He was in the gene vaults on the eighth sub level when one of your brothers strolled out with enough preservation fluid to service a dozen companies”

 

Barbastellan winced. Liagond. So much for maintaining some secrecy on the whole business. Damn him.

 

“Well I can hardly deny it now brother. What do you plan to do?”

 

“I? Nothing. You’re hardly the first among us to discreetly begin making preparations for what is to come after. It is as I said. I merely came to wish you well.”

 

“You’ll forgive me for being less than trusting of that, given what happened in Ultramar.”

 

“Ultramar was a long time ago for everyone my brother. Back then we were winning, there’s nothing to be gained from petty grudges whilst we’re hovering a hairs breadth from oblivion.

 

“I wish that kind of thinking was more prevalent with the rest of the Legion. Things would be a lot easier if they could only see what’s about to happen. The only thing that’s ever held us within any semblance of unity is the Primarch, and that was either through adoration or fear or both, neither is particularly appealing now he’s getting ready to die.”

 

The captain paused, the silence pregnant with unspoken meaning. “I think it too late to try and change anything within the Legion now Barb. Our world has been dead over a hundred years and we stopped recruiting from Terra decades before that. We are what we are now. There is only managing the consequences as best we are able.”

 

Barbastellan shook his head, his denial emphatic. “No I won’t accept that. Not when I forged the fourteenth into something with purpose, and this was during the height of the Primarch’s rule. I will not blindly bend my knee to something as incorporeal as human nature, for all that we are ascendant above them, and it is still humanity that we were born from.”

 

He paused himself, looking speculatively at his brother captain.

 

“Come with me when I depart brother. You have over a hundred brothers and your own ship. You have an apothecary and I have the tech adepts who can ensure that we have the war material to do as we wish. We can raid anywhere short of a forge world or make for the Great Eye and carve out a haven there if we desire.”

There was a long, long silence before the other spoke.

 

“I like you Barb, for all that we have between us in the past, the good and the bad, and for all that you despise the Primarch while I am loyal to his word, I still like you. I count you among my true brothers. But I am going to stay. I wish to make the use of a suitable fortress whilst I am able, the time will come soon enough when we are cast out into the galaxy again, forced to survive on the dregs of a bloated Imperium. I will take what leisure I am able before then.”

 

Barbastellan reached out and gripped his brother’s shoulder guard, his voice urgent. Couldn’t he see what he was doing? He was committed to staying and dying like so many others. “Please brother. Don’t stay here and meet death on Imperial guns out of loyalty to a broken demi-god. We have fought and bled for a century to be masters of our own fate, don’t relinquish the little freedom we have for the sake of him!”

 

“Tell me truly Barb. What is it that you want? What is it you fight and bleed and kill for?”

 

The answer came without thought, it’s every facet burned deep into his soul from the time he spat on the Aquilla. “I want to be free. I want to be able to decide my fate. I will not be enslaved to genetic devotion bred into us for the False Emperor and the Primarch. I want choice. I want mastery over myself. I want freedom”

 

“And are you not asking me to sacrifice that very thing to come with you?”

 

That stopped him dead. He hadn’t even considered that’s what it would be viewed like from another perspective. Was this how the men under his command thought too? Himself replacing those who had come before with the shackles? How could he begrudge any of his brothers the choice to fight and die as they desired.

 

“I wish you weren’t so damned smart brother. It’s always been the most annoying thing about you.”

 

“Nobody is perfect.”

 

“That they are not. I shall be sailing in ten hours. If you change your mind at that point you and any who come with you are welcome among us.”

 

“Thank you brother but no. I and mine shall stay”

 

Barbastellan reached out and took the proffered arm, gripping it wrist to wrist.

 

“Fare thee well brother. I hope we shall draw blood together in the nights to come”

 

Malcharion the War Sage returned the grip

 

“Until the morrow brother”

 

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

Enjoy

Edited February 6, 2015 by Balthamal

[Noctem Cultor]

Lol miscast? That's probably the best weapon casting I've ever received from FW it's perfectly straight.

 

As for the lion skull, Talos was slightly impressed that Hound had killed one (Blood Reaver) considering he was merely human. Perhaps they were something like the Wolves on Fenris, although obviously not to the same degree of lethality. Having an actual skull adorning the armour would be a serious statement. On the other hand I do like it just for it's symbolism, especially in a Legion that doesn't really do regal embellishment on armour, having that golden lion head amidst the midnight armour, bones and tattered skin 

 

First those pictures just make Sev look even more awesome.

 

I guess that if every member of the Altramentar had a skull of the Lion on their armour the things would be extinct seeing as Nostromo unlike Fenris was a civilised word not full of the wild. I also like the gold lion it just makes them stand out so much more. I like the idea of the Lion reflecting its owner so rather than a fierce look ive gone for a stern grumpy looking Lion on my Altramentars Shoulder pad.

[Kol Saresk]

@Bal: Liagond is such a troublemaker. I'm so proud of him.

 

Although this does bring up a question. I can't access my copy of Soul Hunter, but I thought Malcharion was entombed for the wounds he received on Terra killing the three champions?

 

That said, he does seem the more likely to draw Atramentar to his banner than Vandred and that they stayed with the Exalted because they had nowhere to go.

[Noctem Cultor]

On the subject of fluff.

 

I am looking for a Scribe(s) to help my put my Dyslexic ramblings into a decent Timeline and detailed fluff for my Warband. I have broken down my current areas of interest such as characters and a little about them.

 

If anyone is interested in helping out please click the Icon to visit my thread.

 

http://i932.photobucket.com/albums/ad165/Liamgregg1988/Night%20Lords%20WIP/etfwip_zps0b185f19.jpg

 

Thanks

[Balthamal]

@Bal: Liagond is such a troublemaker. I'm so proud of him.

 

Although this does bring up a question. I can't access my copy of Soul Hunter, but I thought Malcharion was entombed for the wounds he received on Terra killing the three champions?

 

That said, he does seem the more likely to draw Atramentar to his banner than Vandred and that they stayed with the Exalted because they had nowhere to go.

I'd day he's one of your better creations. Perfect embodiment of the care less attitude of the VIII Legion.

 

As for Malcharion he was alive and kicking when the Primarch died at least according to Soul Hunter

[Kol Saresk]

Kind of ironic considering all I did was make the name. :P

 

Hmm, okay. I don't have access to my copy so I wasn't sure. Still a cool piece of writing. :D

[Dan The Deamon]

The 18th has not fractured... What is this heresy?

 

Who are you that dares steal our glory?!

[Noctem Cultor]

Glory since when do the Sons of the 8th fight for something as fleeting as glory?

[incinerator950]

On the subject of fluff.

 

I am looking for a Scribe(s) to help my put my Dyslexic ramblings into a decent Timeline and detailed fluff for my Warband. I have broken down my current areas of interest such as characters and a little about them.

 

If anyone is interested in helping out please click the Icon to visit my thread.

 

 

http://i932.photobucket.com/albums/ad165/Liamgregg1988/Night%20Lords%20WIP/etfwip_zps0b185f19.jpg

Thanks

I've been in need of one too for my Wartorn WEs. Do you want to co-opt an Alliance?

[Noctem Cultor]

I'm not sure how much an alliance with me would help as I am Dyslexic and incoherent. I have not had much luck so far in getting an interest. I would say to post up in the Lore/Fluff section and your Legion group thread?

[incinerator950]

I have a hard time coordinating my writing.

 

I lose interest in 40k often enough I have to wonder why I have anything in the first place. While Tenebris can understand frantically changing a dozen ideas and being roadblocked by a name or a paragraph alone.

[Kol Saresk]

*cough*

Pyre and Wartorn

*cough*

[incinerator950]

http://i891.photobucket.com/albums/ac116/incinerator950/Mobile%20Uploads/tmp_1626-Collectors_Arrive_on_Horizon-428922833_zps8f4d119f.png

 

Roadblocks just in those two alone.

[Noctem Cultor]

http://i891.photobucket.com/albums/ac116/incinerator950/Mobile%20Uploads/tmp_1626-Collectors_Arrive_on_Horizon-428922833_zps8f4d119f.png

 

Roadblocks just in those two alone.

 

My stuff is more bullet points (so I revisited my first post and added bullet points of ideas I had). I just don't have the creativity to join it all together and then add dates and planets to give it a more official feel.

 

Do you have a thread with your ideas in it? a brainstorm is always a good place to start.

[incinerator950]

I've openly used the whirlpool in the Liber cluster and the WE legion topic.

 

The trouble is just feeling well enough to start writing. Then finding dates, planets, genuine depth and emotion to them. I let my problems get the best of me.

 

I generally have lost the feeling Chaos is offering, and 6th has made it harder to use the Antecannis Massacre as a staging coach for the Wartorn. I like to look into the problems as an anti-hero, conflictive but the opposite of Tenebris.

 

Using the Pyre puts me off, but then nothing has ever fit right when I look into this game. I can't play it when transportation is an issue, and my area isn't hobby big.

[Kol Saresk]

Maybe use your problems as the inspiration? If it's always on your mind, the reconstruct into something creative.

 

Financial troubles=a warband that was living the good life until Tragedy A and now they have to adjust and survive, or die.

 

Girlfriend=Shocking betrayal from within the warband that has left the protagonist and his allies scarred and dealing with it in 998 ways from substance abuse to despair to paranoia to running around and kicking puppies.

 

And then there's the Khârn original= Create a likeable character and then have him kill everything with death and fire in suitably fatal ways.

[incinerator950]

I think being abandoned to die on a world encircled by the Imperium for over a decade counts as the second.

 

Besides, I'm allowing myself one Eldar seeress turned blood priestess and a Khornate Nightlord Sniper. ;)

 

This is assuming I don't recycle the Wartorn into a Pyre Warband, but I have enough on my damn plate.

[Noctem Cultor]

Quick question does anyone know if it mentions anywhere what company etc Axemaster Krieg Acerbus belongs too?

[Black_out]

Quick question does anyone know if it mentions anywhere what company etc Axemaster Krieg Acerbus belongs too?

 

I believe Lexicanum (I know, not the most reliable source) lists him as Captain of the 3rd Company.

 

Edit: by any chance does anyone know where I can get my hands on some ctactcataphractii terminator shoulder pad bits? In my quest to MAGNETIZE ALL THE THINGS! I forgot I'd need extras for all the other arms :'(

Edited February 10, 2015 by Black_out

[Flint13]

@ Noctem - Yep, Kreig Acerbus rules over the 3rd; one of the largest splinters yet left of the 8th legion, sorry twisted warp-bastards that they are.

 

@ Black_Out - Besides eBay I can't think of much else... FW doesn't sell bits so far as I know. There are a good half dozen 3rd party alternatives to cataphractii shoulders though, so all is not lost :D

[Balthamal]

 

Quick question does anyone know if it mentions anywhere what company etc Axemaster Krieg Acerbus belongs too?

I believe Lexicanum (I know, not the most reliable source) lists him as Captain of the 3rd Company.

 

Edit: by any chance does anyone know where I can get my hands on some ctactcataphractii terminator shoulder pad bits? In my quest to MAGNETIZE ALL THE THINGS! I forgot I'd need extras for all the other arms :'(

 

 

Wouldn't it be easier to magnetize them at the wrist? 

[Slips]

 

 

Quick question does anyone know if it mentions anywhere what company etc Axemaster Krieg Acerbus belongs too?

I believe Lexicanum (I know, not the most reliable source) lists him as Captain of the 3rd Company.

 

Edit: by any chance does anyone know where I can get my hands on some ctactcataphractii terminator shoulder pad bits? In my quest to MAGNETIZE ALL THE THINGS! I forgot I'd need extras for all the other arms :'(

 

 

Wouldn't it be easier to magnetize them at the wrist? 

 

Unless its for Chain Fists, Lightning Claws and Power Fists, then yeah, that would seem the best place to magnetize. The biggest problem with Cataphractii arms are the Leather Pturges making it harder to work with compared to Indomitus or Tartaros.

 

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/Images/Product/DefaultFW/xlarge/catpwrfcomp.jpg

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/Images/Product/DefaultFW/xlarge/cat-spec-wpns-comp.jpg

 

As you can see.

 

Edit: forgot to mention, if you're willing to scrape off some detailing, Death Guard actually have Cataphractii Shoulder pads for sale separately: http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/The_Horus_Heresy/Legiones_Astartes/Death_Guard/DEATH_GUARD_CATAPHRACTII_SHOULDER_PADS.html

Edited February 10, 2015 by Slipstreams