Barabbas Sogalon Posted October 26, 2014 Share Posted October 26, 2014 I love it, sister. I love it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dantay VI Posted October 26, 2014 Share Posted October 26, 2014 Exceptional!! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nomus Sardauk Posted October 26, 2014 Share Posted October 26, 2014 Malik snarled and trigged the detonator of the meltabomb clutched in his fist, washing the alien warlord in a maelstrom of white hot hellfire. Oh come on Flint! You can't introduce such a potentially kickass character as Malik and then just immediately kill him off! :D Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Montuhotep Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 Live as a badass, die as a badass. 'Tis the creed. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
HellChyld Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 Nice fluff so far!! Excellent models waiting impatiently for more! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lokkorex Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 At best, malik propably only lost his arm, While the xeno lost his head. Great background, interesting model, really like his armament. Where is his head from? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dantay VI Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 Hahaha, who's to say Malik didnt pass his 4+ invulnerable save ;) Unless 30K Chaplains don't get those Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Montuhotep Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 Where is his head from? Looks like a Grey Knight helm with added topknot. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Flint13 Posted October 29, 2014 Author Share Posted October 29, 2014 Evening guys! Thanks for all the lovely replies. @ Slippy - Haha, no worries, it happens. @ Barabbas - Glad to hear it. Hope I did the 26th proud. @ Dantay - Oh, that's one I haven't gotten ^_^ @ SanguiniousReborn - *sigh* you're right. I can't @ Paladin - That is a good creed. @ Hellchyld - Glad to hear it from a midnight clad veteran. I've got something good coming hopefully by this weekend. @ Lokkorex - Arm, most of his body... who's counting ^_^ His head is my favorite Gray Knight helm with a CSM topknot. @ Dantay - Sadly, they do not. They do get Hatred and Zealot thou! @ Paladin - Yep, on point! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Barabbas Sogalon Posted October 29, 2014 Share Posted October 29, 2014 http://imagizer.imageshack.us/a/img540/7443/MBdhcp.jpg VIII LEGION, XXVI COMPANY "NOCTIS INFERNAE" "Non Oblitus" - Motto of the Old Albian clan Mak'Tamhais +The notes of Anna Saroyan, 005.M31. On the Noctis Infernae/Last Sons of Dusk/Oathblades+ “We swear upon the Sigil of the Burning Eye to destroy our enemies in fire and ash, to salt their earth and to uphold the honour of the VIII Legion as we kill for our brethren who are unable to stand with us on this day. Justice comes with red hands, we are the left. This is our oath sworn in the name of Terra and Albia of Old, let the flames stand witness as it is sealed with our blood. Igni Atque Ferro.” These words are spoken by warriors of the 26th as they go to war. The Oathblades. Their origins During the Albian War, before a raid at dusk, the finest among the clansmen would cut their palms and swear oaths to honour the clan while the blood dripped into a fire. They were the first into battle, striking the Emperor's armies with terror as they emerged from the darkness to slaughter the servants of a foreign tyrant, their ruthlessness legendary. None of them would live to see the end of the War, perhaps for the better. While the Dusk Raiders and X legion lost their ways fully embraced the organization of the Legiones Astartes, the Albian VIII preserved the ancient tradition of the Oathblades, and all that remain of this proud legion is the Noctis Infernae. Eight groups of Oathblades are in existence today and each is led by one of the Gedryht (name of Albian origin, meaning unknown), the Captain's most trusted warriors. 1st is led by the Equerry, while the bastard Oath-Decurion Krastor command 2nd, I do not know about the others. 7th seems to be made up solely of former Sappers. Only the ones who have walked through hell and come out on the other side carrying the devil's head by the horns are chosen to join their ranks. Veterans older than the Crusade itself, even the youngest Oathblade has more experience than a Lord Commander of another legion. They should be heroes. When an Oathblade falls, his bloodied dirk is taken by his brothers and but to rest in the flames. Oathblades carry the Burning Eye on their armour, and some mark their weapons with the (Albian?) runes of fire and earth before battle. I have seen them wage war, seen them put the night on fire. All I can say is that I fear them. There is pain deep in their dark eyes. Broken spirits. They uphold a tradition regarded as dead. They swear oaths for a nation that only exists in myth. They remember a past forgotten by all others. They are part of a dying breed. But they still fight, among the last honourable warriors in a legion defiled by murderers. Death is their trade, fire and iron their tools. They are to be respected, they are to be feared, and never shall they be forgotten. [A drawing follows, showing five warriors around a brazier, dirks in hand and clenched fists held over the fire. Title: The 1st swear their oath.] Oathblade Teburon Barka, Noctis Infernae; assault on Thule-Psi Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Slips Posted October 29, 2014 Share Posted October 29, 2014 Dude, that Brass/Gold...So nice! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Barabbas Sogalon Posted October 30, 2014 Share Posted October 30, 2014 That on the muzzle? It's leadbelcher washed once with nuln oil then three times with seraphim sepia. I use washes to solve almost anything these days. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Slips Posted October 30, 2014 Share Posted October 30, 2014 Will have to give it a try then, I really like dark and not-so-shiny Metallics and this look's like a nice way of doing them Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lokkorex Posted October 30, 2014 Share Posted October 30, 2014 Awesome! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Flint13 Posted October 31, 2014 Author Share Posted October 31, 2014 http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/xq90/540/MBdhcp.jpg Iron on Ice “Before you, my most illustrious Millennial, is the opening verse of the ballad that will ring throughout the ages as the day the Twenty Second murdered a world. Thousands of years from now, the legacy of this deed will be spoken of in harsh whispers, lest it catch the wrong ear and bring doom upon the galaxy once again. We shall be the monsters that terrify the youth of the segmentum and send them to fitful slumber. When the Third marches, there will be no foe left unslain or rampart unconquered. There will be no mercy, no errors in our flawless execution. Our swordsmen stand supreme upon the dais of unchallenged perfection, a halcyon blend of form and function. The magnificence of our aerial support is as a master to a hopeless novice, angelic in their faultless grace. The wonder of our armored might strikes fear into the heart of those who should know none. We are the only absolute. Quantifiably, unarguably, unashamedly. We are perfection unequaled and we are thirst unending. The jugular of Korrianna Prime stands before you, my grandest Children. Go, and make its screaming murder the start of our eternal legacy." ~ Ha’dreel Aldanath, Blade Sovereign-Captain of the Emperor’s Children, 22nd Millennial, Dragon-slayer of Al-Revais, Purger of the Jade Marches, Dominator of Kandavan Bahanda and Conqueror Unequaled of the Glocka Expanse The Assault of Korrianna Bastion Secondus http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/631/EcTfA0.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/912/wFuv2X.jpg “Firing solution T17 by F32. Bring it down. Hard.” ~Warsmith Hadrin Grimm, IV Legion, VII Great Company The Assault of Korrianna Bastion Secondus http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/537/zEbT7f.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/909/4S5Tbx.jpg Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Slips Posted October 31, 2014 Share Posted October 31, 2014 Wow..Heathens would be proud! Can't say I was expecting an Iron Warrior from ya Flint! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Montuhotep Posted October 31, 2014 Share Posted October 31, 2014 Oh nice! Oh very nice..... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lokkorex Posted October 31, 2014 Share Posted October 31, 2014 Now that is just lovely! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SalvationOfReason Posted October 31, 2014 Share Posted October 31, 2014 nice use of the crimson on black striping. Still very Iron Warriors, but a welcome break from the standardized yellow on black. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dark Rage Posted October 31, 2014 Share Posted October 31, 2014 Agree with Salvation, the stripes are a very nice touch and look great. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
KBA Posted November 9, 2014 Share Posted November 9, 2014 http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/540/MBdhcp.jpg Eighth Legion Astartes; 28th Company Saeva Nocte http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/538/j7p54X.jpg [YT] [/YT] "Jackals need no queens, only an alpha murderess... we are she... A carnivorous goddess wrought red upon the galaxy... carving a legacy from the flesh of those who have wronged us. We are the Dawn, and we will be the death of Knight." Darkness Falls on Severed Angels: Part 2 (Shadow Fall +32 Local Standard) “M-zero-S, this is auxiliary of Claw Sar’keth. We are surrounded by advancing enemy Asimarr Mechanicum forces at mark 077Beta. They have full anti-armor and Knight Household support. Respond!” Remembrancer Simeon Vasquez barked into the high-gain portable vox-comm unit stashed in the corner of the hab block. In the opposite corner, a midnight armored Astartes slowly panned an auspex unit across the narrow avenue from the hab-unit’s single window. “No use lad,” the marine closed the auspex and turned, “The vox-executioner is still active and mobile. My bet is one of those damnable Knights has a portable unit hardwired to its running systems.” As if on cue, a bass warhorn ripped through the comparative silence, rattling everything left standing in the dingy hab unit. Not a second later, a heavy sonar pulse followed. “They’re just down at the end of the block,” Sevik Lo pressed Vasquez to the floor of the hab causing a small dust storm as he shifted his massive armored form to glace warily from the window again. “What about Fourth Claw? They were right behind us,” Simeon coughed out quietly. Without turning from the window, Sevik slowly raised a hand. Even over the midnight blue black of the Astartes warplate, Vasquez could see the clotted crimson washed over the gauntlet and bracer. The Remembrancer inhaled slowly, battling the shifting dust and tint of smoke in the air, trying to keep his breathing in check. He had to pause momentarily. The sprint to this hab unit had not been a pleasant one for many reasons. A crackled distortion flickered across the vox-band, wrenching his attention back around to the unit. He barely caught the words that slithered from the hand set. ”Confirm… Knight House activity…” …silence… Vasquez rolled once, hand darting out to grab the vox-set receiver. “This is Auxillary Vasquez. Knight House activity confirmed, there are two Knights of House dan Elsan along with support units.” The warhorn bellowed again, closer this time. Vasquez could feel the floor tremble with the tread of the advancing Titan. The following sonar pulse was so loud it rattled his teeth against one another and cut off the first half of the reply from the handset. “…Carnivore Goddess hears your plea… we heed.” http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/537/MWhoCk.jpg The Remembrancer furrowed his brow at the set in his hand. The words that had dripped from the vox set had sounded… wrong. They were ethereal, almost sing song. High pitched… young maybe. A child? Or a woman? “What in the void?” He glanced up to see the 8th legionary staring intently at him. “Lad. We need to move. Now!” Sevik rose from his crouch against the hab wall and strode across the broken threshold and into the block’s breezeway, snapping the vox transceiver into one armored gauntlet as he did so. As Simeon darted after the 8th legionnaire, he could just catch a glimpse of the hulking shoulders of one of the House dan Elsan Knights from the destroyed wall of an adjacent hab unit. Its heraldry loudly proclaimed its name in old Koriannite and Gothik script. “Raka’tarii; the Falconer,” sang out from the Ice and Ash emblazoned upon its shoulder scroll. His head snapped back around as another warhorn blasted from the opposite side of the hab complex. This one was different than the Knight Titan units that had been pursuing them for days. This one was heavy and bass… but somehow bestial… hateful… hungry. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/674/C8GHk3.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/538/fQKo2H.jpg The response from the Mechanicus units of Asimarr Quartadecima was instantaneous, the smaller units retreating from the surrounding buildings into a protective screen around the massive forms of the twin dan Elsan Knights, who stood within cover distance of one another. Their auspexes hunted, sonar pulses sounding and weapons cycling to active standby. Sevik picked up speed and Simeon raced to keep up, boots pounding across the uneven surface of the hab’s breezeway. A low, nauseating throb began to build, seemingly from the air around him. It built in intensity exponentially until he could feel it as a bone deep vibration. “That’s a mag-coil going live,” The marine’s warhelm whipped back as he ran, “We don’t have time, lad. MOVE!” Simeon could barely catch even the vox boosted words over the howl of the weapon and the pulse of aggressive sonar. Sevik’s stride lengthened even further into a full sprint, quickly pulling away from the unenhanced human. Ten meters in front of Simeon, without breaking stride, the Night Lord burst through perhaps the last intact window in the complex, a full length bay portal at the end of the hall. Clearing the intervening alley, Astartes armored boots slammed into the sub floor of the next hab unit over. The shriek of mag-coils was all encompassing now. Simeon couldn’t even hear the breath sawing out of his lungs. With a last burst of speed, he leapt from the window and the end of the hall… and the world ended… http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/904/dpUKss.jpg Several things happened all at once for Remebrancer Simeon Vasquez. As his feet left the floor of the habway complex, the unit behind him ceased to be. Massive mechanical legs the size of industrial compresses thundered past, obliterating the thin walled habstructure like it has never existed. As he spun in midair the Remembrancer caught vague impressions; titanic shape among the flowing river of debris. Bladed gauntlet coursing with red electricity, razored shoulder guards and a fanged maw to devour a god. The rest of the complex cascaded to the ground like an avalanche of plascrete and prefab boarding. With an earth trembling roar, a gargantuan black and blue Knight Titan burst from the debris storm of the collapsing structure. The howl of magnetic containment coils reached a crescendo, the titan’s right arm arced forward like an executioner’s axe. The lance of its arm slammed into its housing mounts and fired a black rod of plasma straight into the face plate of the nearest Knight of House dan Elsan. The smaller machine never had a chance to react. The lancet stream cored through the protective armor plate, the mechanical workings of its torso, obliterated the pilot’s compartment and blasted from between the shoulder blades of the weapon mounts in a blizzard of flash-boiled metal and plasteks. With a shriek of protesting joint servos and crushed armor plate, Raka’tarii felt to its knees. A bellow of victory thundered from the Lancer’s vox horn as it raised a single clawed foot. Crunching down with the force of a starship’s hydraulics, it kicked the carcass of the smaller titan ingloriously onto its back and sent it skidding in a wash of sediments. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/902/gTb0pK.jpg The second dan Elsan titan rounded and sent a shot from its battle cannon arcing towards the Cerastus Lancer, only to ricochet ineffectively from its left gauntlet in a blast of coruscating red lightning. Several hundred meters distant, a massive highrise hab-structor lost a dozen floors in a fireball. The capacitors contained within the gauntlet of the plasma shield howled as they cycled to active and began to recharge. The smaller titan had already begun to advance, kicking aside the smaller machines that surrounded it’s shin guards. With a sound like two iron continents colliding, it barreled into the larger god beast with a rending grind of metal. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/633/RL734G.jpg Vasquez opened his eyes to a pair of impassive red lenses. Upon seeing his return to consciousness, Sevik turned with a grunt. He moved slightly deeper into the new set of hab units and began to work at the damaged vox unit. “Good news?” Simeon coughed hard as he sat up and glanced after the legionary. “Depends, Lad,” a few quick adjustments and switches thrown, “The vox executioner is no longer interfering. Looks like it was on that exed titan. On the downside, our own vox is only picking up intermittently…” Vasquez frowned as he heard the odd cut in/out static and what sounded like whispering in his vox earbead. “Hold… sacred void,” Sevik cursed as he scanned the readout from their own auspex unit. He punched a few settings into the mobile vox and barked, “Friendly Knight, this is ground. Auspex readings confirm there is another active Titan. Repeat, there were *three* Titans of House dan Elsan.” Vasquez heard only scratching static for several seconds, audible only partially over the duel of the two god machines only a few hundred meters distant. Then, that same sickly, sing song voice came through, shocking in its clarity. “Three or thirty… they will choke on the ashes of their fallen.” Almost on cue, a third Knight of House dan Elsan rounded a hab structure and began to pick up speed to bring it into range of the ongoing Titan melee. Sevik sat back on his heels, a curse exploding from the vox grille of his warhelm, “Kalshiel vallia shrilla la lerril!” Simeon’s brow drew into a deep frown, “Did you just…” “Come on, lad,” the legionary cut the question off as he rose to his feet and slipped a boltgun into his right gauntlet, “No amount of bravado is going to save that beast against two veteran pilots. As long as it’s occupying them, they won’t be hunting us.” The Astartes reached the end of the hallway, which terminated abruptly in a shell-blasted hole, and unceremoniously dropped from view into the alley below. Simeon grimaced and pulled a single laspistol from its holster. A deep breath and he followed Sevik Lo into the debris strewn alley. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/1024x768q90/673/9UoxJW.jpg AHHH!!!!!! Really awesome traitor-knight. Blew my hair back. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Knight of the Raven Posted November 10, 2014 Share Posted November 10, 2014 Imma let you finish, but this is the best Cerastus Knight-Lancer of all time. ALL TIME. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Flint13 Posted November 30, 2014 Author Share Posted November 30, 2014 http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/xq90/540/jXUgo8.jpg Fifteenth Legion Astartes http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/913/56HSv3.jpg "Sky above, earth below, fire within." ~ Remembrancer Dasha Tonaka, Legio XV The Pyreclad (Shadowfall +43 local standard) http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/673/RiCKKB.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/538/UDULJu.jpg The bolt round punched into the soft join between my left pauldron and breastplate. I grunted as I felt it punch straight through, and exit the back of my shoulder in a spurt of crimson. The splash of red was almost indistinguishable from the hue of my war plate. A Kraken round then. A standard shell would have done considerably more soft tissue damage. My enhanced physiology had already clotted the wound and was attempting to reknit the severed tendons and muscle even as I regained my feet and tightened my grip on my heka staff as I did so. “Brothers, there is no sense in this…” I was disgusted at the feeble sound of my voice, “We are not…” The brutish brogue of the Wolf’s deep voice cut me off, “Silence, wychling. I am Tae’vog Helmsplitter of Fyf, and you are no brother to me,” The off handed sweep of his gauntlet took in the two dozen others of the Rout arrayed in a ring around me, "or any of my pack." All of them stood arrogantly, weapons held almost casually, all with their leader’s hatred written in their savage eyes. Again, I tried to reach out, pushing my will through the Great Ocean in an attempt to touch the mind of this primitive Astartes, to try and reach even the smallest part of his psyche. To make him understand that I was no enemy, I did not hate him or his Legion as he so plainly loathed my own. I wanted to make plain that this was the gravest of errors and would spell nothing but doom for both of our clans. In the same moment, I wanted desperately to hunt for the psychic trace of any of my brothers. I had not heard or felt their presence since the Wolves had ambushed us some fifteen minutes before. Even as I made the attempt, I knew I would not be met with success. As soon as my mind attempted to loosen its bonds, I could feel the crushing weight that kept it pinned painfully into the cage of my skull. In front of me, the tiniest hint of effort slipped silently across the features of a slim, golden armored figure standing half a dozen meters to the Wolf Guard’s right. A lithe, almost delicate Terran female, cocked her head at me, birdlike, her long blue-black top-knot swaying with the motion. Her blankness made nausea rise in even in my Astartes frame. Her eyes darted quickly to the looming Terminator armor of Tae’vog. His bearded features cracked in a wide grin, lupine fangs pressing his lips into a yellowed snarl. “You will be making with none of your Maleficarum wychery,” he intoned as he raised the combi-bolter clutched in his right fist, “In fact, let’s make double sure of that, shall we, Spawn-kin?” http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/901/JQAcJq.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/537/uCRid8.jpg My left arm was already sluggish as recently repaired tendons screamed at me for testing them again so quickly. In a natural reaction, my mind scrabbled at pulling my will into physical being as my left palm flew up into a warding gesture. Like a drowning man, who’s fingertips catch the most ethereal grasp of salvation, only to slip into the clinging blackness, so too did my grip on the protective shield fail. The combi-weapon roared like a rabid ursid, and I gritted my teeth inside of my warhelm as I felt my left hand disappear in a spray of crimson armor and bone fragments. The sixth Legion warriors surrounding me barked and jeered, more a pack of jackals than the lupine nobility they so revered. As I opened my clenched eyes, I could feel the numbing heat of pain-suppresants and combat narcotics flooding into my blood stream from the injection ports in my armor. Threat chimes of multiple target locks pinged across the lenses of my warhelm as they reasserted themselves. Muscles burned achingly and red colored the edges of my vision as the natural Astartes response to aggression pounded in time with the double beat of my twin hearts. The modified, psycho-indoctrinated form of the human flight or fight response that was bred into us from neophyte to Captain-Primus. Kill them all. Defend yourself. Kill every living thing that can kill you. Kill every threat so totally, there can be no hope of retribution. Sometimes the other legions forget. Sometimes they only remember the scholars of the fifteenth. They forget that we are every bit the warriors they claim to be. I exhale slowly. The wash of chemical stimulants is cut off and quickly purged from my veins. The threat indicators are blink-clicked to standby mode and I use the length of my Heka staff to support my weight. I don’t hate them. But that can’t be said for all of my brothers. As I raise my head, I catch the faintest whistle, as if from a falling artillery shell. The wolves hear it too, and they almost react in time. Almost. The crimson blur that falls from the heavens is no artillery shell, but a living Astartes. There is no howl of retro-thrust from his flight pack, no attempt to stall his terminal descent. He hits the earth in front of me with a force approaching a light armored vehicle dropped from orbit; directly onto the shoulders of the Silent Sister holding her black vigil in the ring of Wolves surrounding me. I feel the explosive surge of biomantic power from my coven brother in the split second before he contacts the earth, a massive backwash of psychic flare as his own connection to the Great Ocean is restored in the fractal second before his rapid deceleration smears him across the terrain. Even then, I can hear his armor fail in several locations, servos screaming in protest at their mistreatment as Harem Tul, my Bond-Seneschal, stands from the crater he has created. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/673/YLyr3B.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/640x480q90/537/DMIeO0.jpg The return of the waves of the Great Ocean crashing in upon me is almost ecstatic, I feel as a deaf, blind mute has had every sense restored at once in an orgy of sensation and awareness. But in that moment, that terrible, sickening moment, I also feel the blankness of the minds of my coven brothers. Even as Tul’s power flares white hot, every bolt weapon of the surrounding Wolves coughing death at his armored form, I know with a certainty, of my once proud coven still live on this world, only myself and Tul remain. The touch of my bond-seneschal’s mind on my own pulls focus back to the moment. ++”Pyreclad… BURN THEM!”++ His mind’s voice roars in my psyche. His distraction comes at a price, as a single bolt pierces his left eye lens, and I feel his will flicker as his form crumples. It is in that moment, as I see my last brother die, that the hate finally boils through. The smoking bolters of the Wolves are dropping now, and I see Tae’vog’s eyes snap back to me. We hold each other’s gaze, his glacial blue to my viridian silver. It is only a fractal second before I see the realization crawling across his features, drawing them back into a savage rictus. I see his fangs part and he inhales to begin to bellow an order to his pack, “Kill the wychl…” “Die,” my simple, snarled proclamation cuts him off as I slash the blade of my hekastaff skywards. The column of roiling hellfire that erupts at the Great Wolf’s feet tears from the ground, spewing molten rock and flaming debris as it howls into life, twisting twenty meters into the heavens. Its peripheral haze flash melts the armor of the desperately scrambling Astartes of Tae’vog’s pack as they dive from the lethal heat-wash.Crimson flame boils from my armor in ravening sheets as I draw my will to myself and force it out through my hands as raw psychic power. The shield of living fire roars into the air, enveloping me completely, blacking the earth as I stride forward. Hands… As I look down, I see that my left hand is smooth, liquid gunmetal gray. I can see where the ceramite of my armor has flowed from my gauntlet and pauldron into a perfect replica of the flesh and blood hand, with no effort of will from me. I flex the new silvered appendage, feeling the centering effect it has on my will. As I watch, the digits unconsciously lengthen into hardened adamantine talons. I look up as I feel the pathetic nuisance of sporadic bolter shells vaporizing as they seek desperately to penetrate my flame cage. I reach up and remove my war helm, letting the crimson armor piece fall to the ground at my feet. ++”Wolves of Fenris know that this day you have forged an enemy where once there was only brotherhood,”++ I call to them, and I know that regardless of their position, every living wolf hears my voice echoing in their mind. ++”Die burning.”++ I stride forwards, and the earth splinters at my step. http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/901/GoTzBv.jpg http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/903/1UDcvR.jpg What may have been a few minutes, or a few days later, I rise from the charred form of a once-son of Fenris. I can feel a psychic presence behind me. I turn to find Harem Tul limping in my direction. His helm has been discarded, his left eye a fused lump of scar tissue, that I can see even now slowly dissolving under the ministrations of his biomantic ability. He holds the hadradrim saber of his office loosely in the grip of one hand. His gaze slowly takes in the blackened landscape stretching out around him. “Brother-Magus, what… have you become?” His eyes come up to mine. We briefly hold each other’s gaze, his tawny brown to my viridian silver. I flex the adamantine claws of my left hand, and the hellfire surrounding me bleeds down almost completely. “I am unbound. I am free from the constraints uneducated fools have tried to place upon us. This is what we were meant to be,” I return as his eyes search my face for… what? He shakes his head slowly, “Magus… Kohan… this is no touch of mutation from the flesh change, but this is wrong. I…”My eyes drift down to the psykana saber in his hand as it goes live with psychic will, dripping blue wychfire to the fire-blackened earth. “You would attempt to kill your own brother?” my brows rise slightly in genuine curiosity as my eyes return to his. As a slow grin spreads across my face, my lips pull back from fire scorched fangs of adamantine and steel, “You are injured, exhausted, my seneschal. I am not.” He pulls the saber up to an active guard position. “I have no choice, Brother-Magus. I will not let you become the monster the Wolves fear us to be.” I close my eyes as I feel my armor flowing and reshaping again under the hellfire’s heat. Bladed spines in the form of massive skeletal wings shape themselves from the shifting liquid ceramite of my warplate, and I flex them appreciatively. Once again, sheets of flame begin to twist and roil as they slide off of my armor like rainwater from the sloped glacis of a Predator tank. I open my eyes, and I can see what remains of the crimson paint of Harem Tul’s warplate begin to flake and blacken. I take a deep breath, exhaling in a gust of ash and cinder. "You will not be disauded from this course of action?" Harem Tul's eyes never stray from mine. His only reply is a flare of his psychic will, his muscles swelling and reactions quickening with the touch of his Pavoni cult-temple. My aura of flame turns white hot and the frontal plates of his armor begin to liquefy, his biological mastery racing to cope with the horrific burns threatening to overwhelm his flesh. “Very well my seneschal… brother..." http://imagizer.imageshack.us/v2/800x600q90/674/3Ggxty.jpg "... Die burning." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Slips Posted November 30, 2014 Share Posted November 30, 2014 Well, this made for an excellent read, thanks Flint! Also, nice picture of Yuno...as much as that can be said...freakin' yandere psycho :p Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
helterskelter Posted November 30, 2014 Share Posted November 30, 2014 Colour selection is spot in, very distinct from the other two red legions. Story is epic :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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