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IL VII - The Berserkers of Uran (thread 1)


Raktra

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Nah. Leave it so. If a discussion like this occurs you can answer like that:

 

 

Hey why do they look like raven guard?

What raven guard? There is no legion in the broverse named raven guard.

Well they look so. Maybe make the white dirtier?

The reason the berserkers have so clean white arms is, so that the enemies see their own blood on the armor ;)

The funny thing is, that's actually in my fluff :p

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Nah. Leave it so. If a discussion like this occurs you can answer like that:

Hey why do they look like raven guard?

What raven guard? There is no legion in the broverse named raven guard.

Well they look so. Maybe make the white dirtier?

The reason the berserkers have so clean white arms is, so that the enemies see their own blood on the armor ;)

The funny thing is, that's actually in my fluff :p

Lol, for real?

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By the time they were prepared to venture out into the galaxy on their own, the XIth Legion had transformed their colours from a gentle duck-egg blue to the greying black of burnt coal, their arms a grubby white to link themselves to their Primarch, and to better show the blood spatter from the beatings they dealt out. 

Fo' reeeeaaals.

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I've got some massive fluff re-writes coming up in the next week, both to tidy things up to fit the Broverse and to really darken the Berserkers to something much more grim than simply anti-authoritarian Marines.

Anyone got any feedback from Kehl's updated background by the way? That's the rough direction I'm gonna start going for, 40k Bloodborne-esque.

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It looks like you sneezed while eating jello, which is probably appropriate for a gore covered Berserker. 

Gah. Now I can't un-see it!

 

I wanted to get the "mass reactive at point-blank" going. But the jelly idea is also good.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Though all religious celebrations had been abolished by the Emperor after his unification of Terra, he kept many traditions alive under another name to help ease the transition between regimes and to give the common man something to find comfort in during hard times. One of his less profitable ideas, however, was to attempt a version of the ancient Chriasteen celebration of "Chriasmense" with his sons.

At first, all was well, if slightly bizarre due to the eclectic mix of personalities among the primarchs. However, after a dozen caskets of of ale and rum each, the room was in disarray. Morrow had become trapped in a water feature, dramatically acting out the mating habits of the fish of his homeworld, the Jade General wept in a corner that he was not as sparkly as a real piece of jade, and the Emperor himself was entangled in a struggle between Hectarion, pinned to the floor, and Raktra, attempting to jab him in the throat with a broken gravy float.



MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY LOST BROTHERS!
 

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Merry Heretical Celebrations ya Deviants! Ill see y'all on the battle field purging the foul xenos (as one should to celebrate) after you've all sobered up!
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Alexandros only sips his beverage, more concerned with keeping his brothers out of trouble then beating Hectarion at his drinking game, while making sure every brother and the Emperor gets a gift from him.

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Malcador the Sigilite sat right next to the Emperor. "Primarchs..." he thought "Give them something to drink and a peaceful atmosphere and boom they go nuts. Maybe next year I will order some combat servitors on which they can unleash their fury..." One of his favorite Servitors, J4-M3S, came to him. "Would you like to drink something, my lord?" "Well, yeah, bring me..." A fork hit JA-M3S at his forehead. As the Servitor wasn't able to feel pain, he stayed were he were, waiting for his next order

 

"WHO SAID THAT? YOU WANT TO FIGHT? COME HERE! I'LL BEAT YOU ALL AT ONCE!"

 

"Bring me the hard one. The one Highking Odysson of House Harkon gave me. The whine called Endtime, please." said Malcador. "Same precidure as every year, my lord?" "Yeah, yeah. Code: Same precidure as every year, J4-M3S."

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Daer'dd is almost desperate to prove his physical might by drinking barrels of whatever is put in front of him and challenging his brothers to arm wrestling. Including a match to close for comfort against Niklaas.

That is of course until food is served wherein he can't find himself sinking his fangs into whatever nears his face quickly enough. This is whilst delivering a tipsy lecture on structural benefits of Tungsten Colbalt Carbide over Adamantium against plasma based weaponry.

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