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The Fall Of Seraph - Histories of the IXth


JackDaw

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The Forgotten Son



"Take heed of hating me,
Or too much triumph in the victory.
Not that I shall be mine own officer,
And hate with hate again retaliate;
But thou wilt lose the style of conqueror,
If I, thy conquest, perish by thy hate.
Then, lest my being nothing lessen thee,
If thou hate me, take heed of hating me"


From the works of Jo-Donne, writer of Meta-physik, circa early M1



“I have been remiss, they tell me, in not speaking of myself thus far. I disagree. I was never truly part of Seraph, and this is their tale not my own. I stood alongside them but not with them, and at the end, though my wounds were grievous, I did not fall. I would prefer to remain unknown, to let Seraph speak for themselves through me, but I have been told that a face is needed, a reference for those of you who study this missive. And thus I am forced to intrude, to speak of myself and my deeds, to place myself alongside the heroes of Seraph. I am not their equal. How could I be, when I still live as they lie dead?”


From Blood on the Steel: the lives of Seraph
Bastian Ortega, once named Icarium, of the IXth Legion Astartes.



***accessing memory: auto-quill engaged


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***Location: Arcadia Square, AnMonal Sub-dist, Palace of Terra.

***Timestamp: Day 11 of the Fall




He could feel the Eaters coming. Despite the piercing pain of the migraine, the thump of ruptured vessels in his head, despite the ever-present whisper of the ghosts that crowded his mind, he could still feel them.


Fevered and hot, buzzing like a roused slake-wasp hive, spiked with pain and aggression, the Eaters brutalized minds screamed their presence even when they were physically hidden by dust clouds and gun smoke. Scratching at his own psyche, like a maddening thorn piercing his flesh, they spat their hot-metal sharp bloody taste into his mind without thought, without reason, all sense lost to the shards of torture they had willingly rammed into their own brains. Rabid. Sick. They weren't Astartes any more. They hadn't been since they had willingly broken themselves in a vain attempt to impress their crippled father.

Bitter metal taste in his mouth, Ortega turned from the ruptured mouth of the mono-rail terminus that he knew would be the entry point of the Eaters and nodded at Nemet Khyr who stood ten paces away, impassive in his crimson plate, bolter held steady.


"Two minutes. At most."


Khyr nodded, motioned to the five other Angels with him. Within seconds they had taken positions behind piles of rubble and shattered rockcrete, bolters trained on the terminus entrance. A weak wind rose, pulling the curtains of dust and smoke aside. The enhanced senses of the Angels caught the rising scent of the Eaters, clotted gore and hot iron, and fainter still the whispers of howls and bellowed taunts. Ortega pushed the pain in his head away, bit down on the bile that threatened to rush up his throat and steadied the ancient Ferrox pattern bolter he now carried. There was a brief second of peace, shattered by the baying arrival of the Eaters, the marred and scorched white plate they wore flashing into view.


Without speaking, the Angels opened fire, lancing bursts of bolter fire into the mob of Eaters spilling out of the terminus. Traitor Astartes dropped in showers of rich blood, flecks and shards of ceramite spiraling away. Too many. A handful at first, swiftly becoming a flood, a dozen, then a score of Eaters sprinting across the concourse, chainaxes and blades already thick with blood and viscera. Too many for these seven Angels to hold.


Still firing, Nemet Khyr's voice was controlled, anger held back behind his teeth.


"Ortega. Do it."


Spike of migraine pain, the taste of blood in his mouth. Ortega shook his head even as he blew the snarling face plate of an Eater helm out through the back of its head. Metres away, Toel Sha fell, crimson plate breached by bolt pistol fire from the closing Eaters. Every Angel heard his rage, his pain as mass reactive rounds chewed away his chest. Khyr spoke again, fury tight in his voice.


"Do it or we die. All of us. Do it, coward."


Rage blossomed in Ortega's heart, hot and burning. His bolter dropped from unresponsive fingers as his mind fled his body and plunged amongst the pain-shackled minds of the Eaters before him.


It felt like bathing in acid, like plunging his hands into shards of glass, like a thousand razors of hate and spite and rage cutting at him. The broken animal minds of the Eaters assaulted him, spat at the ethereal touch of his psyche. Embracing the pain, Ortega held the burning minds of the dozen Eaters closer, tighter and then simply released his own rage...


The Eaters simply dropped mid-stride like string-cut puppets, minds obliterated by the psychic fire of Ortega's own mind. Blood drooled from shattered lenses and mouth grilles, psycho-sympathetic haematoma's blossoming in the meat of the Eaters brains like crimson flowers. Ortega opened his eyes, wiped a thin line of blood that trickled from his nose, pushed aside the fierce spike of pain hammering through his own head.


"Don't call me that again Khyr. I warn you."


A long moment passed between the Astartes. The other Angels moved amongst the corpses of the Eaters, collecting what little ammunition they could before gathering round the body of their fallen brother. Nemet Khyr removed his helm, his face surprisingly young, eyes a startling blue.


"Toel Sha. Will you?"


A broken smile tugged at the corner of Ortega's mouth while sadness replaced anger in his grey eyes.


"Every time, it breaks me a little more. But you know I will."


He knelt next to the dead Angel, smelling the rich tang of his Legions blood in the air. The other Angels stood silently in vigil. Placing a hand over the body of Toel Sha, Ortega took a final breath, held it, then opened his mind.


Flashes of memory. Instances of scent, and smell. Impressions of events, fleeting yet painfully strong. Sights that the dead Angel had never forgotten and the emotions that he had carried through every day of his life. Something that was and at the same time was not Toel Sha was held, cradled gently in the bleeding mind of Ortega.


As the Angels of Seraph watched in silence, he wept unknowingly.


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http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/558e8c16-a5ed-4e46-94e1-eb550f70ead6_zps5ulo5tdo.jpg

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150223_200410_zps0nc6ahuv.jpg

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150223_200336_zpsuggoptiw.jpg


"I am an echo of what I once was, a mere shadow. But I do my duty still. I am an Angel at the very end of things, no matter what else."

Bastien Ortega, once named Icarium of the IXth Legion Librarium, now attached to Seraph Company



They took so much from me after the Edict. My blade, my aegis. My plate was stripped of its conductors, its focusing arrays. They gave me an aging Ferrox in place of my blade, a stubborn weapon that jammed often and always pulled to the left. I was humbled, forgotten at a stroke. Shackled by the Edict and prevented from serving our Father to the best of my ability. I was placed back in the lines, my gift ignored and forgotten. No squad would find a place for those like me, we were simply too different, too haunted by what we had been and could be. Not line Astartes, but not what we had been. We stood ignored and overlooked, cleansed of everything that had made us who we were. I rebelled, in my own small way, refusing to let go entirely of my past. A scrap of robe, tied around my thigh plate. Such courage I displayed.


http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150223_200436_zps6rhi1kmc.jpg

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150223_200457_zpsepidkkeb.jpg



Your mind is like any other muscle. If you do not use it, it withers. Years without using my gift left it weak and tenuous. The strain I placed upon it during the Fall....it broke me. I broke myself against the brute broken minds of the Eaters. I held so many of Seraph in my thoughts that I began to lose track of my own. I could hear them when I slept, when I woke. I can hear their whispers now. I suffered bleeds, blackouts. Constant nagging and shrieking pain that nothing could salve. When the Fists took me, when Afio delivered me to them, I was seizing, dying. I....I remember little else. Then you woke me. And asked to hear of Seraph.


***memory core access rescinded: auto-quill disengaged

Evening everyone, hope things are good. Thanks for all your kind words - really helps keep me motivated and working on things. So, replies first and then something teasey and special for you all.....

Jimbo13 - Hah thanks man. I would love to crack out a full novel, have plans and drafts of one of my own, but doing some GW stuff would be good. I sent in a sub for the last BL window, so who knows.....

Reyner - Glad to hear you enjoyed it fella smile.png

Kobrakei - Thanks bro, much appreciated. Good to hear Ortega is how you pictured him. How are your own Angels coming along?

Flint13 - Stop complaining, you know you love my words in your headspace. Im real happy with Ortega, simple but elegant I think.

Argent Aquila - Thanks man smile.png

Marine7312000 - Ha I do try my best smile.png

Macloren - Ah good man, glad you got that sorted bro. Get on and get your IVth up. Warbasterds need to represent msn-wink.gif

And today in hobby news: Well, not much. Infinity has been very distracting and a few other things have gotten in the way as well. I have made a start on the Scimitars though, the bases are all done as is the main chunk of steel. Hopefully can get the red sections done by the end of the week. Also did something else which was kinda jumping the gun a bit, but hey ho.

So, you've all seen my Destroyer test and I've already confirmed that they will be called The Lament. I also mentioned that I would be doing a Moritat to go with them and if they are The Lament, I guess that makes this chap (in a very very wip tacked together mock-up)....the Angel of Lamentation.......

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150309_184948_zpsmkotpazy.jpg

Night everyone msn-wink.gif

  • 2 weeks later...

What ho, good fellows.

 

Man, been a while since I posted here eh?  Sadly, had a crazy busy few weeks with work, birthdays, weddings and getting my submissions for GW sorted out. That and getting hooked hardcore style on Infinity hasnt left me much hobby time. Fear not though! I am back on it like a car bonnet now - with the end of Seraph firmly in sight, its time for the last push up that hill. The arrival of something shiny in the post from the Far East has also helped rekindle my enthusiam.

 

Which is good, because these things are killing me:

 

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150324_185726_zpsew4gpzjp.jpg

 

I still like the models. I do. But I am not enjoying painting them. These just need the detailing done and then I need to undercoat the riders and get them done. I was considering some freehand on the flanks of the nose cowling, but I reckon I'll give that a miss now.....

 

Aquilanus - Lovely isn't he? ;)

 

KBA - Thanks man, very kind of you to say so. It's a pleasure to be here :)

 

BrotherJim - Thanks as well fella, hope you like the rest of the army.

 

Rojo - Phenomenal is.....that's a good word. Thanks :)

 

Marine7312000 - Referring to me as a brilliant bastard is probably the best thing someones said to me on here.

 

Jeremy1391 - Ha, I have way too many mid-season breaks for a tv show :) glad to hear you are enjoying things though, thats what I aim for.

 

Macloren - Thanks brosef. Took a while to clean it all up, three layers of liquid gs, lot of careful shaving with a scalpel blade. Looking forward to getting him done though.

 

Noctus Cornix - Thanks man, he might be a while before painting mind, still need to sort his arms and the rest of the Destroyers....

 

More to come soon chaps, honest. Maybe even a finished squad. Or some fluff.

 

Cheers!

 

 

  • 2 weeks later...

A wild Jackdaw appears! What do?!

 

Hobby vow number 75 - Never paint a Scimitar again. Those damn things almost killed this project for me. Which is a shame because I still really like the models. Still, least they are done now, witness:

 

http://i894.photobucket.com/albums/ac145/Jackdaw1982/The%20Fall%20of%20Seraph/20150407_220547_zpsjy67us4h.jpg

 

Happy with them, but didnt enjoy painting them at all. The riders have the first two basecoats on the armour done, so they wont be too much effort to finish off. Then its on to the Ophanim. Hells Yes. And more fluff of course. Aside from that, not much more to go, least once I get hold of the next batch of bits. Which hopefully wont be too long.

 

Brother Dallo - work kept up :) 

 

Kizzdougs - thanks man, so looking forward to getting that Moritat done. He's gonna look sweet. 

 

 

Still no word from BL or GW regarding the writing but hey-ho. Gonna poke Mantic as well, see if that pans out. 

 

More to come soon hopefully folks, shouldnt be too long before the Scimitars are all done. 

 

Cheers,

 

Jack

 

That's a lovely looking red JackDaw. Do you plan to keep any of Seraph for the ETL? I can think of at least one model you could vow. ;)

 

Who's the scary individual in the background beside the butterfly?

 

Continue to keep up the good work.

 

Dallo

I've got seven of these things in front of me man, together we can pull through it!

 

Just a tip for those out there who've never painted bikes or jetbikes before. They suck. Against all reason and probability, they are for some weird reason the most motivation-draining models I've ever painted. You find yourself asking if the rules or how cool they look are even worth it because you just. want. it. to. end.

I've got seven of these things in front of me man, together we can pull through it!

 

Just a tip for those out there who've never painted bikes or jetbikes before. They suck. Against all reason and probability, they are for some weird reason the most motivation-draining models I've ever painted. You find yourself asking if the rules or how cool they look are even worth it because you just. want. it. to. end.

..Might I ask why? It seems odd to me that they would be so-draining.

 

I've got seven of these things in front of me man, together we can pull through it!

 

Just a tip for those out there who've never painted bikes or jetbikes before. They suck. Against all reason and probability, they are for some weird reason the most motivation-draining models I've ever painted. You find yourself asking if the rules or how cool they look are even worth it because you just. want. it. to. end.

..Might I ask why? It seems odd to me that they would be so-draining.

 

Dude I... can't even explain it. I don't know what it is but they just take it out of you like nothing else, it defies logic. My Night Lord bikers were almost the end of that project for me lol. It's like some weird soul-sucking vortex that makes you pay for how awesome they are by stripping years off your life or something.

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