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++ March of the Legions: XVIII Legion ++


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You know what? I'm not failing a pledge in my own fething forum, weather be damned.

 

This old conversion is gonna be my entry.

 

http://i.imgur.com/tJlgTye.png?1

 

Already fixed the thumb and got a GK spear in place for him.

I failed again. Not sure I've ever suceeded in any pledge for any event. I think I need to get Oathbraker permant lay put on my account!

 

Should do better next month seeing as it's a legion I'm activly working on anyway!

 

That model looks awesome BCK, hope you don't rush the paint job just to finish.

Failing this like a boss. The easy-out make-up month has made me pretty lazy about this whole thing. Knowing there's going to be a grace month took a lot of the urgency to do this out of me. Might have to start joining challenges that have no forgiveness and actual dead lines tongue.png

Urgh... January was a hell of a way to start the year...

But I had fun with this one. Much more than the Raven Guard, anyway...

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A familiar orange glow warmed the ship's forge. The journey to the mustering point was long, but he appreciated the rare gift to take the time to work. It surprised him how sparse the forge was, given his Legion's predisposition to crafting and smithing work. So few of his kin were here, and the ringing of lonely hammer blows echoed through the vast space.

It was understandable. The news of Horus' betrayal had sent a shockwave through the Legions and every one of his brothers had reacted differently. Many had withdrawn from their fellows, choosing to come to terms with the ignominious ending of the Great Crusade in solitude. But L'tar Bak'aru, a veteran of his company and formerly of the legion's Librarius, poured every single ounce of his anger into his work. The moment Ia'Ken had addressed his men and informed them that they were to bring war to Legions that they had fought alongside for decades, Bak'aru had felt the same rage that he'd felt burning at the very heart of Nocturne erupt within him.

Ever since the edict of Nikaea had been handed down, Bak'aru strove to maintain the control he needed to corral and restrict his considerable power. The mental discipline this required was not something that could be taken for granted, and in those first few weeks, he'd struggled alongside his other gifted brothers to comply with the Emperor's word. He'd watched as some, all of them Nocturnean, had failed to quiet the fire of their homeworld before it consumed them. Of these brothers, some were imprisoned, some executed, some simply left to burn. Fire needs fuel in order to live

Now he found it almost impossible to control his mind, and he felt his psychic might push and test the carefully laid boundaries he had made to contain it. So he worked. He focussed his mind on the hammer in front of him. He poured his hate and his rage into it. He poured the sorrow he felt at the dying dream of the Imperium into it. With every strike of his tools, with every drop of his superhuman sweat, with every roar, the hammer took shape; its character and temperament came more and more into being. Almost subconsciously, Bak'aru's emotional state had allowed something of his psychic energy to be transferred into this most singular weapon.

As he lifted the finished hammer from the forge, Bak'aru found a moment of certainty; a solid foundation stone to cling to in these most perilous times. Though he may fall, traitorous blood would be spilt by his hand. Betrayal must be met with unshakable, indefatigable justice. Events as shattering and terrible as those that would soon unfold on Isstvan V would require weapons as these, and men of conviction strong enough to wield them.

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And with five minutes to spare before midnight... msn-wink.gif

See you next month!

Remember, you have until midnight, Alaska time!

 

Not my best paint job, but I was even more rushed than I planned on because I had to stay two hours late at work because someone else called in, and "I need to go to paint a toy solider" wasn't going to fly as an excuse to leave.

 

It's a little slapdash, both the paint job and the fluff, but it's better than failing.

 

http://i.imgur.com/5qmIlB8.png

 

And the fluff:

 

It has been said that the Salamanders has the largest astartes of all the Legions and Champion Ashek Ka'Zhal exemplified that trait, standing head and shoulders above even his brothers in tactical dreadnought armor.

 

Nocturne born and bred, he was an accomplished smith that forged the power spear he would become known for. Called "The Anvil" by his brothers for his strength and skill with both arms and craft, he sold his life dearly in the betrayal of Isstvan. His prized drake cloak turned away blade and bolt alike from his traitorous brethren while reaping a swathe of destruction through the enemy ranks. While there is no possible way to confirm the following, one of the XVIII Legion survivors claimed he saw The Anvil sustain eight direct lascannon hits before finally being brought down.

 

 

I'll also lobby for a time extension for painting.  I am just so close to finishing.

 

edit: BCK, nice model. I used your method for cloaks for my model; it turned out quite well.

 

You still have some time! Get it finished!

 

Glad you like the cloaks, and would you mind posting your results in my tutorial thread? :)

Stru - that is an awesome salamander. A dark brooding colour scheme and back story, and a great model. I think your should paint him so friends!

 

BCK - great job on pulling you vow through. I love the conversion, and for the time you had that is a solid paint job. Any chance we can see your original planned sculpt too?

Alright, time's up for entries. If you finished please post in the XVIII completion thread. smile.png



BCK - great job on pulling you vow through. I love the conversion, and for the time you had that is a solid paint job. Any chance we can see your original planned sculpt too?

Oh, sure, why the hell not.

http://i.imgur.com/DIU9q5T.png

Yes, it was going to be a Dr. Doom Salamander. There's been more work since this was taken, including cutting away the front of the hood and resculpting it. All I had left to do was sculpting the drake scale section on the back of his cape.

Piece of fluff..... right...

 

Vespasian swung is hammer with the fury of the righteous. Helmets were smashed, breastplates burst and weapons sundered. He was the relentless retribution of his shattered legion and would know no respite. For every traitor he slew across the stars, he cried out, like an avenging angel of old descending from the heavens, " VULKAN LIVES! "

 

The end.

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