+Shadows in the Storm; The Siege of Korrianna Forge+

[RolandTHTG]

Excellent!

[Barabbas Sogalon]

Thank you!

[Argent aquila]

beautiful writing and an excellent model!

[Montuhotep]

Such brilliance...... mind telling what the base model for that conversion is?

[Kol Saresk]

Just a guess, but a Grey Knight with the lightning-and-raptor greenstuffed.

[Slips]

Just a guess, but a Grey Knight with the lightning-and-raptor greenstuffed.

 

That chest piece is actually from the Imperial Fists Torso Upgrade kit from Forgeworld. Shoulders are Honor Guard the rest is MK II Crusade armor with a GK power sword.

 

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/New_Stuff/IMPERIAL_FISTS_LEGION_UPGRADE_SET_-_TORSOS.html

[Montuhotep]

Which leaves me only one question, then, and thanks for the help.

 

 The helm. Not a Mk2 from what I can see from FW and not a Fists one either - I'm thinking Iron Hands, but unsure.

[Slips]

Its a MK II/III breacher Helm if thats the case.

[Montuhotep]

Thank'ee.

[ephrael]

Which leaves me only one question, then, and thanks for the help.

 

 The helm. Not a Mk2 from what I can see from FW and not a Fists one either - I'm thinking Iron Hands, but unsure.

That's actually one of the helmets from the Legion MK II Command Set:

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/Warhammer-40000/Space_Marines/Space_Marine-Infantry-and-Accessories/MKII_COMMAND_SET.html

[Kol Saresk]

 

 

Just a guess, but a Grey Knight with the lightning-and-raptor greenstuffed.

That chest piece is actually from the Imperial Fists Torso Upgrade kit from Forgeworld. Shoulders are Honor Guard the rest is MK II Crusade armor with a GK power sword.

 

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/New_Stuff/IMPERIAL_FISTS_LEGION_UPGRADE_SET_-_TORSOS.html

I was close. Like Russia and Texas. :P

[Slips]

Just a guess, but a Grey Knight with the lightning-and-raptor greenstuffed.

That chest piece is actually from the Imperial Fists Torso Upgrade kit from Forgeworld. Shoulders are Honor Guard the rest is MK II Crusade armor with a GK power sword.

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/New_Stuff/IMPERIAL_FISTS_LEGION_UPGRADE_SET_-_TORSOS.html

I was close. Like Russia and Texas.

Its the effort that counts!

[Barabbas Sogalon]

I'm glad to see that people like this take on the VIII.

 

Anyone interested can find the unpainted Equerry here

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/topic/297409-casual-30k-hobby-challange-month-2/?p=3825832

[Dosjetka]

Strange take on the VIIIth. While your fluff is excellent, I don't think that it really fits the VIIIth. But, y'know, that's just my opinion and all that jazz ^_^

[Knight of the Raven]

Yeah. I had trouble guessing which legion this guy hailed from (since I never read fluff) and eventually supposed it was a War Hound without the white. But that's probably because I collect War Hounds myself.

 

That said, good kitbashing.

[Dosjetka]

Aye, your concept would fit the XIIth much more.

[Dantay VI]

Not so sure it does match the 12th legion, so much as Angron alone. Only Angron was the one who feels betrayed by the Emperor, as he was taken from the fight for his life and all his brothers died. He never recruited from his homeworld did he, because of all the high riders, so not sure the rest of his legion feel the same way. Sure they love the blood, and they worship their Primarch as their father but even those closest to him fear for what he is becoming, but follow him heedlessly.

I could imagine Jebra as one of the old guard. Disposessed of his birth home, but loyally & proudly following the Emperor hoping that losing his home and clan will not have been in vain. Rather than get a "noble" Primarch (like Guillemann or Dorn) his proud legion is handed over to Kurze. While they share Kurze's blood and likely many of his ideas and ideals, I get the sense that Jebra feel betrayed and let down that the Emperor would give Curze free rein to allow the proud 8th to be diluted with the blood of Nostraman monsters, thieves, murderers, rapists & worse....

Therefore like Angron, but not Angrons legion, his is a double betrayal and so he uses his bitterness to fuel his desire for revenge against the Emperor and all those who stand with him.

Saying that I am not a WE fluff-nut, so feel free to correct me.

BTW, love Jebra and his back-story

[Knight of the Raven]

I've not read the Barabbas Sogalon's fluff, as I mentioned, but I think you meant Nostramans. Nocturneans hail from the home of the dreaded Care Bears Legion.

And I meant the color scheme reminds me of the War Hounds. Supposedly the Crimson Sons have a similar color scheme to this model, but I never paid attention to them.

I love those shoulder pads by the way.

[Captain Nameless]

Hey! Care Dragons Legion, mind you.

And Jebra looks even better now that he's painted. I'm really looking forwards to Greyall's drawing of him in battle.

[Dantay VI]

Cheers, I stand corrected :D

[Barabbas Sogalon]

@ Battle-Brother Ludovic: The 26th are the remains of the original pre-Curze legion, the only thing they have in common with the later Night Lords is the blood of the primarch they refuse to acknowledge. You might call it two different legions, the majority of corrupted ones and the few that stayed true to the old ways. In HH Betrayal there is this tiny line saying that among the Terran recruiting grounds for the VIII was Old Albia, so I used this and the info given on the Albians and just expanded from there to make the background. 

 

@ Knight of the Raven: I based the colours on the Crimson Sons, which is the closest thing there is to a VIII legion Unification scheme.

 

@ dantay_xv: That's the essence of the 26th. Bitter and broken men who have lost everything except their honour as Albians.

 

@ Captain Nameless: Same here.

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Just a guess, but a Grey Knight with the lightning-and-raptor greenstuffed.

That chest piece is actually from the Imperial Fists Torso Upgrade kit from Forgeworld. Shoulders are Honor Guard the rest is MK II Crusade armor with a GK power sword.

http://www.forgeworld.co.uk/New_Stuff/IMPERIAL_FISTS_LEGION_UPGRADE_SET_-_TORSOS.html

I was close. Like Russia and Texas.

I'm in Texas and drinking a White Russian. Does that count?

[GhostMalone]

No no it doesn't, any who its good to see others pitching in so flings not doing everything :P

 

I have a pleasant update once I rewrite the fluff

[Flint13]

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/xq90/540/MBdhcp.jpg

 

Eighth Legion Astartes; 28th Company

Saeva Nocte

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/538/cSXmTt.jpg

 

[YT] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GzBZU1hKIzg [/YT]

 

In Ebon Clad: Part 1

(Shadow Fall -43800 Local Standard)

 

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/540/PQmkKa.jpg

 

The night haunted halls of the Noctarii Nyx rang with the steps ceramite clad boots. The hum of active warplate chased the scrabbling

forms of the thrall slaved and hullwraiths as they dove into their rancid hideaways. Two midnight clad demigods stalked the

underways, into the deepest reaches of the Teleportarium complex of the mighty strike cruiser.

 

“Chaplain, you will heed my orders,” the trailing figure hissed through the squalling corruption of a damaged vox-grille, “the cleansing of the Twenty-Eighth recon will continue unmolested.”

 

The first wheeled, a shriek of energizing power coils howling to life as a lightning claw went live. He leveled the crackling blue talons at his pursuer, voice snarling from the behind the weapon, “You no longer hold the right to issue such decrees. The soldiers placed under your command are dying for a spiteful feud among children,”  the red eye lenses of a jet black helm competed with the claw’s power field as he leaned in closer, “Sadly, the Twenty-Eighth requires some semblance of a leader for a while yet.” A flash of red and black and the aching glow of the power claw faded as it was deactivated and the Chaplain turned to resume his trek through the complex.

 

The reaper’s dirge of a voice trailed back over his shoulder, “My order is bound to the elimination of weakness in all its forms. Know this,Kay’vak Shadow-walker” the name dripped with condescension, echoing mournfully through the hall, “When I return to the Nyx it will be for your head.”  

 

A midnight gauntleted hand speared from the dark to grasp an ebon pauldron. There was a brief, violent motion, and crimson flecks of glass and blood were arcing through the air. A heavy impacted sounded as the praetor of the 28^th company fell heavily to the steel plate decking. As he looked up, vision clouded by red, he saw the First Chaplain stride through to the arming chamber of the last Teleportarium array.

 

Malik Turokan turned to face the fallen Night Lord as the chamber cycled to active. The blood red lenses of his warhelm locked to the shattered visor of Kay’vak’s own helmet.

 

“I stand clad for war, captain. Where do you stand?”

 

His fist hammered into the activation rune of the array and Kay’vak Shadow-walker lost sight of the First Chaplain in the howl of a warp-borne gale.

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/910/HX0Cgx.jpg

 

 “We’re dying here!” Sokisth’s voice hissed across the squad vox-net, “The gargantarii are too well dug…” The voice ended in a wet crack as the Night Lord’s head disappeared in a cloud of crimson mist and wet bone. The headless corpse sank to its knees and keeled over into the wet mud of the depression.

 

“Kalshiel shrilla!” Legionary Jhadek barked as he rose from cover and leveled his rotor cannon in the direction of the alien line. The squad support weapon howled to life, spitting a torrent of hard rounds down range. The spiteful outburst of weapon and legionary was short lived, a single high caliber shot caroming off of the ceramite pauldron of his MK3 warplate. It spun the legionary a full 180 degrees and sent him sprawling next to the headless squadmate. Regaining his feet, Jhadek pressed back into the scant cover of the ruined revetment Third Claw huddled in. A midnight clad fist rebounded from his shoulder guard.

 

“Ha! A good omen, yes my lord?” Vo Ha’drun’s voice came over the vox, thick with black humor and the heavy consonants of the hill dwellers. Jhadek could hear the muffled chuckles of the four other members of Third Claw in his vox-bead. Two more Nostraman hill savages, a gutter bred clanner and a low born Terran, all below him in station, if not rank.

 

He glanced down. The round had left a single, black scar, neatly bisecting the fanged skull of the Eighth. Jhadek snarled wordlessly as he shrugged his shoulders and rounded on Ha’drun.

 

Any further conflict was abruptly severed, a gravely, bass voice cutting through the company channel of their vox-net.

 

“Sons of Curze, we stand at a test of our darkest times. We will not be found wanting. Stand ready for orders.” An ebon armored form slammed into Third Claw’s cover through a hail of armored piercing rounds, his artificer warplate sparking and whining fitfully.

 

“Greetings lads,” The half laugh of Chaplain Turokson's voice on their squad channel was a harsh contrast to the iron level of command he had displayed seconds previously, “Those giant bastards aren’t dying easily are they?”

 

The black warhelm panned slowly across the dregs of third claw, the data djinn of his armor sending scrolls of squad information rolling over the inside of his left eye lens. He didn’t need it, he knew all of the hundred and thirteen legionnaires of 28^th company by their armor and kill marks alone.

 

“Unfortunate, though unsurprising to see Sokisth down,” Malik mentioned as he glanced at the armored corpse, “that leaves us undermanned.” He rose and glanced quickly over the lip of masonry above him, to be chased back into cover almost immediately by a wash of hard rounds that pulped the stone lip of the revetment. He settled into a crouch against the crumbling rock and pressed a black gauntlet to his helmet. Third claw could hear the soft clicks of vox channels switching at speed within his warhelm.

 

“Finished,” he declared suddenly, “Jhadek, Bard, overwatch support. Ha’drun, Lo’daeyn, Karna, bolters up, you’ll advance with me. The rest of the claws will break up half and half on our go.”

 

Jhadek snarled as he wrestled with the ammo feed of his rotor cannon, “We have been trying that!”

 

He paused momentarily at the blank stare of the Chaplain’s black helm, and restarted. “We have been trying that, Lord Chaplain, with little success over the past hour. We have been dying, and have yet to see an enemy.” 

 

“Legionary Jhadek, do you consider all of my order to be suicidal zealots?”

 

The squad support Astartes looked momentarily taken aback, even with his face hidden under a MK3 helm.

 

“What is required for shadows to stretch their talons from the darkness, Legionary Jhadek?”

 

“My Chaplain?”

 

Malik’s helm slowly rose to the sky in the direction from which he had come. Third claw could hear the fanged amusement in his voice, “Fire, legionary. Fire to scorch the blackness, and to birth the shadows from the deeper dark that follows.”

 

The howl of airborne engines registered to Third claw with a snap. Audibly increasing by the second, they could just see the racing forms of four Storm Eagle gunships running fast towards their position. The blue-gray ships were accelerating recklessly fast for such nap of the earth flying, their pilots pushing the craft to operational limits with a fearless abandon.

 

“Turokan,” a heavy voice broke over the company vox-net with crackle of distortion, “Let the sorry bastards of the 28^th know who flew their salvation this day.”

 

“Aye. Igne Ferroque, frater!” The chaplain raised one black fist to the sky as the Storm Eagle flight shrieked overhead, the blazing eye of their heraldry glaring loudly from prow and stern.

 

 

“Igni atque ferro!” The voice corrected in a rich brogue, dripping dark amusement.

 

The gunships screamed as they banked and came about to race down the lines of the aliens, their jets blasting washes of promethium fuels. Arcing contrails spiraled from the rocket pods, and the opposing trench lines lit up in howling typhoons of phosphex chemical fire. For the first time, Third claw could see their enemies as they dove from oversize, armored pillboxes and fortified trench-lines to escape the all-consuming flames.

 

The gargantari were massive. Huge, genebred hulks of bone and muscle, twin heads looming from continental shoulders, towering over even an armored Astartes warrior. Their four arms ended in long, grasping talons, that clutched pistols, hammers and massive cleavers.

 

Malik Turokan turned to the warriors of Third Claw. “Forward.”

 

http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/673/lIQQK0.jpg

 

++”FORWARD!”++

 

The cry of First Chaplain Turokan roared over the vox-net. Legionary Karna exhaled deep and alongside his six claw pack, vaulted forward into the cratered hell of the purgatory zone. His bolter cracked in his hands as he sent shell after shell arcing into unarmored flesh. As large as they were, the gargantari wore no real armor that he could see. Bastards never thought they would have to fight something as nasty as they were, he thought, and smiled to himself.  

 

 Ahead, the Chaplain hamstrung a Gargan warrior with his crackling lightning claw, and buried his glaive-axe in its spine as it fell. He vaulted the corpse and took another alien warrior off at the knees, blood sizzling in the powerfields of his weapons.

 

++”Warriors of the 28^th! We are strong. We are the incarnate of darkness and hate.”++

 

Karna sighted down his boltgun and sent a single shell through the secondary brainpan of a Gargantari that loomed up behind the chaplain. Without pausing in his stride or oratory, the Chaplain swung backhanded and severed the primary head with the blade of his axe.

 

The next salvo of phosphex rockets shrieked into the Gargantari fortifications from the Storm Eagles strafing overhead. Nostraman runes of vivid red flashed across Karna’s vision as his armor warned him of lethal external temperature fluctuations. That last run had come close enough to sear the paint off of his war plate. Karna raised his helm and a single rude hand gesture to the sky as one of the aircraft skimmed overhead.

 

“Tshiva keln, lerril!” the legionary barked into his vox-bead as he tracked the craft.

 

“Watch your advance, child.” the same heavy brogue that accompanied the Storm Eagle’s appearance followed Karna’s outburst into the company vox-net, “We bring fire to the night, Nostraman, not solace and compassion.”

 

Karna smiled inside his warhelm and leveled his bolter back to cover the advance.

 

 ++”Terran or Nostraman, high or low born, we are the children of the Haunter. Birthed by darkest shadow and wrought from the steel of wrath and vindication!”++

 

Overhead, with phosphex payloads exhausted, the Storm Eagles switched to danger-close support. Batteries of heavy bolters and autocannons coughed to life and sent hails of armor piercing rounds into the densest clusters of aliens.

 

The gargantari warlord was massive, even compared to his bodyguard warriors. Ha’drun and Karna brought one down with their bolters, blowing massive chunks of flesh from its torso. Lo’daeyn’s krak charge sent another back to the mud, it’s vaporized abdominal cavity spilling entrails into the trenches. Jhadek’s roaring rotor cannon and Bard’s stalker-bolter brought down the third. The warlord advanced on Malik. With a swing that shook the earth, it powered its gargantuan warhammer into the ground sending up a spray of earth and plascrete. The chaplain rolled to the side, his lightning claw flashing.

 

++"We are fear. The death knell of all who stand before us, our only purpose their end.”++

 

The Gargantari warlord roared in shock and pain as it reared back, one arm ending in a smoking stump. It darted forward, snapping him into its massive grip. Arms crushed to his sides, Malik was lifted from the ground. The beast lowered its snarling maws and roared into the Chaplain’s face. His steel hard tone never wavered across the company vox.

 

++"Sons of our father, stand in midnight clad as terror itself to those who would oppose us.”++

 

With a wrenching tear, the chaplain’s right arm came free and he raised his glaive axe high. His contempt was wrought plain in the ear of every 8^th legionary.

 

++”Hate them with every thought! Defy them with every roar! Spite them with every breath!”++

 

The axe came down hard.

 

++”AVE!...”++

 

He buried the smile of the blade in the creature’s secondary head in a wash of blood and bone fragments.

 

++”…DOMINUS!...”++

 

It bellowed in fury as it recoiled, squeezing hard with all three remaining arms. The shriek of compressing ceramite was audible even over the thunder of Storm Eagle fire and a hundred bolters.

 

++”…NOX!”++

 

Malik snarled and trigged the detonator of the meltabomb clutched in his fist, washing the alien warlord in a maelstrom of white hot hellfire.

[Slips]

I'M AT MAX LIKES FOR THE DAY NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

 

 

 

Edit: changed the vid 'cuz racial slurs ain't cool!