++ March of the Legions: XVII Legion ++

[Flint13]

Tul Haekon, Bearer of the Word Most Far Reaching, stands completed in crimson etched.

 

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“Eight hundred meters. Three of them in the lee of the second downed carrier,” Slake’s voice came as a distorted hiss to Tul Haekon, “marking now.”

 

The legionnaire made no reply from his location under the treads of wrecked APC almost identical to those in the valley below. All three targets went hot on the linked visual feed from his rifle and statistics started scrolling across his right eye lens. Lines etched in red sprang into view as Slake added his own contributions to Haekon’s scrawl. No humidity, wind minimal, no djinn-ghost interference. Rare to have almost negligible correction factors upon the torn surface of Calth, but the Word Bearer was not one to leave small blessings unappreciated.

 

Slake’s voice returned, “Plenty of time until the next burn. Take the closest. His left eye is augmetic. He will spot us in less than seven…”

 

“Embrace the Word, cousin,” the whisper of Haekon’s words slicing through Slake’s were drowned out by the snap crack of the stalker boltgun as it kicked against his pauldron. Eight hundred meters below the Word Bearer’s dust blown hide, an Ultramarine died with a graphic spray of viscera as the back of his MK3 helm evacuated his brainpan.

 

 

“The other two are scrambling. They know,” Slake’s voice was edged with irritation, but eager now, almost trembling.
The target lock on the farthest had de-synced as the Ultramarine dropped and rolled sideways into cover. The closer of the remaining pair remained live and glaring, even as he slammed against the side armor of the ruined rhino and sent a desultory spray of bolt rounds in the direction of Haekon’s refuge. Small puffs of red ash waste kicked up almost ten meters from the entrenched Word Bearer.

 

“Take this one quickly or he will spot the flash of your scope reflecting the horizon burn in twelve seconds. But the third comes. He knows. He comes and he sees.”

 

“Quiet,” Haekon hissed into the confines of his helm. The rifle barked again, the Kraken penetrator punching through the unfurled wing of an Imperial Eagle and bursting the primary heart. The Ultramarine went down hard. The Word Bearer didn’t spare him a second thought; he was already hunting through his scope, panning back and forth searching for the final legionnaire of the XIII.

 

“Three hundred meters,” Slake’s voice was a sibilant purr, “let me take him.”
Haekon extricated himself from under the wreck’s mud cowlings and dropped back against the fire-scoured rear hatch. The rifle was still up, still hunting.

 

“Where?” he snarled.

 

“He sees you, brother,” a bark of laughter from Slake, “Such a shame the artisans of the XVII worked our helms with cerulean lenses. One hundred fifty meters.”

 

With a curse in Colchisian and a spray of red ash, Haekon displaced again. A short sprint ending in a skid into the shadow of a gutted land raider, the white of the XII legion peeking from between rent and scorched armor.

 

“Seventy-five meters, brother. His pistol is plasma starved. He’s closing for a definite killshot.”
The stalker bolter’s barrel arced back and forth, almost manically.

 

“Let me take him. Forty meters.”

 

The blue eye lenses of the XVII legionnaire’s MK4 helm dropped from the rifle sight, their impassive gaze clawing the lengthening shadows of the hilltop.

 

“Fifteen meters.”

 

Haekon’s trigger finger twitched, almost almost loosing a panic shot. A deep breath, released as a resigned sigh. “Do it.”

 

Slake’s response was achingly satisfied, “With pleasure, brother.”

 

Haekon dropped the rifle into the dust at his feet, his left hand snapping to the sidearm at his hip.

 

A stentorian bellow echoed from the Word Bearer’s left, seemingly without source. “If you fight an Ultramarine pray that you…”

 

The unsilenced crack of the bolt pistol was shockingly loud. The Ultramarine’s psyker falsehood dissipated with a crackling hiss and the smell of spring rainfall. Caged lightning arced violently around the confines of the Librarian’s psychic hood, over his shoulders and brows, through the smoking crater in the center of his right cheek. A half charged plasma pistol hit the red ash waste seconds ahead of the crumbling, blue-armored form.

 

Haekon dropped his left arm, and re-holstered the bolt pistol. Crimson armored gauntlets found the stock of the stalker bolter, discarded to the dust.

 

“It feels so good to kill. You should let me out more often, brother. We do such good work together,” Slake’s contented purr echoed again in Tul Haekon’s mind as the Word Bearer straightened and turned towards the wreckage of the three rhino APCs in the valley below, "Now let's see how our wounded, wayward cousin fairs in the meantime. I imagine he feels quite left out."

[Der_H]

Right. Well here we go then.

 

+ + + SEARCH TERM: [Mar Thaleon_] + + +

+ + + SUBJECT MATTER RESTRICTED - ACCESS LIMITED + + +

+ + +  IDENT: [##########_] + + +

---------------------------------------------------

+ + + IDENT AUTHORISED + + +

+ + + RECORD BEGINS + + +

Legion: XVII

Chapter: Unknown

Company: Unknown

Role: Deamonologist

Status: Excomunicate Traitoris

 

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Subject Mar Thaleon was first identified as a Tactical marine in the early years of the great crusade. Excelling in weapon drills and close quarters combat he was later registered as serving in a Destroyer unit. Records reveal that, 15 years prior to the outbreak of the Horus Heresy, Mar Thaleon served as the leader of one such squad. Little is recorded after this time until Mar Thaleon’s involvement on Istvaan V. Records reveal that at this stage Mar Thaleon was part of a detachment returning from the [DETAIL REDACTED] system, where he had been tasked with leading a small taskforce to clear a rebel colony.

 

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Eyewitness accounts from survivors, and poorly preserved Pict Capture reconstructions reveal that Mar Thaleon had greatly deviated from traditional combat at this stage.

 

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Data recovered from Raven guard operatives on Istvaan following the dropsite massacre appears to suggest that Thaleon was instrumental in the construction of the pyres documented around the site and what little audio that was recovered is heavily degraded with interference. Witness accounts say that Thaleon’s voice seemed to echo and reverberate in a register much deeper than would be expected of a space marine.

 

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Mar Thaleon’s fate is unknown, however multiple accounts of a combatant matching his description were recorded in various systems during the Age of Darkness that followed.

 

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[Memento Of Prospero]

I finally recovered the model that I intended to use for my Raven Guard pledge, so I decided to kill two heretics with a single Exterminatus with my Word Bearer appreciation pledge.

[Slips]

YESSSSSSSSS

[KBA]

Awesome! Thru like butter. Any plans for a blood geyser shooting out of his neck? Growing up on Ninja Scroll, it's all I can picture.

[Memento Of Prospero]

I might attempt, but I make no promises. I would think that a Gal Vorbak at some point doesn't really have actual blood anymore ;)

[Fire Golem]

That's... That's pretty freaking fantastic.

[Captain Nameless]

Two in one stroke!  So to speak.

[Ezeriel]

Here's my completion. I had to have some fun with it since I hate the XVII to the very bottom of my soul and I think I've expressed it pretty clearly here.

And ignore Venerable Brother Magni of the VIth here, as he's standing in for this Word Bearers permanent sparring partner who will be for another month.

Brother Belon Ji'sahl of the Thrice Dead Stars chapter

While Brother Belon never showed any sign of rising to command in the legion, his fanatical devotion to the new path Lorgar gave the legion couldn't be questioned. He prayed to the Dark Gods, he made sacrifices to them, he slew his brothers and cousins in the name of this new faith.

He was there at the Gates of the Imperial Palace. He saw the battlements crumbling and falling. He saw his foolish cousins standing before the armies of the Warmaster and he saw them bleed and die. And then everything went wrong. The Warmaster lay dead. The legions fractured and messily retreated in all directions, but most went towards the Eye of Terror.

During their flight to the Eye, the remnants of the legion would attack any world that could provide them with supplies. It was during one of these raids that a fleet of loyalist marines caught up them and attacked. All around him the Chapter of the Thrice Dead Stars were being slaughtered. A dreadnaught had almost killed him moments earlier with a shot from its Volkite Culverin, but it had only taken his right arm. It's at this point that Belon began cursing the Warmaster, the Dark Gods and even his Primarch Lorgar. They had all failed him and the legions when it had mattered most. In his rage he tried to assault the dreadnaught that had taken his arm moments before. Clearly this wasn't going to end well for one of them.

Below are pics of the final moments of the charge of Belon.

[Grotsmasha]

 

 

++ Subject: Sergeant Tinaat Bhar ++

++ Status: Loyalist, XVII Legion ++

++ Location: Deceased, Calth ++

++ Time-stamp: =]DATA CORRUPTED[= ++

 

 

++ Image failure.....attempting reload......data corrupted++

 

 

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Brother Sergeant Tinaat Bhar slowly removed his helm, wiping sweat from his brow. His helm was useless now, his latest encounter having cracked his remaining eye lens. He would need to borrow a new one.

He had been trapped aboard the warship for almost two years, waging a one man war deep within the bowels of the mighty warship. He had caused power failures, airlock malfunctions, jammed coms-traffic, and most recently overheated several power couplings, causing the ships warp drives and Geller Field generators offline for several hours.

His former brothers hunt him ceaselessly, he will not stop until they, or he, are dead. When Argel Tal had returned, changed, from the warp-realspace anomaly, the poison placed into Lorgar’s mind by Erebus and Kor Phaeron had taken root within the Legion wholesale. A purge had been carried out, Lorgar ruthlessly culling any from the XVIIth who did not believe as he wished them to believe. They had come for him in the practice cages, three of his own squad. Tinaat Bhar had killed his would be assassins, and escaped into the depths of the Legion ship.

He knew now that the Legion mustered for Ultramar. He would do what he could for as long as he was able. No ship was unbreakable, not even the Fidelitas Lex.

 

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[TheHalifax]

Things have been really busy this month but I'm still on course to finish my entry; there's a still very WIP sneak-peak below. :)

 

 

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[Arac]

 

 

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[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Beautiful, Arac! Absolutely beautiful.

[Xin Ceithan]

It warms my cold heart to see the Word presented so splendidly.

This year`s flu season made me offer praises to Pappa Nurgle for quite some time, so I am a bit behind on my Oath. But I am now putting the sacred crimson on and would like to share a quick WiP:

[Grotsmasha]

Annnddd as I was preparing for pics I dropped my model and watched helplessly as it exploded under my couch. *sigh* imaneedaminute

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Ouch. I've been there, brother, several times. That helpless feeling as you watch it plummet, knowing what's going to happen when it hits the floor...

 

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[Slips]

FINISHED MAH DREADNOUGHT!

 

Pictures:

 

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Fluff:

 

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Interred into a Dreadnought shortly after reuniting of Lorgar and the Imperial Heralds Legion, Brother Amon strove to carry out the Edicts of the Imperial Truth with indefatigable purpose; burning trove after trove of proscribed knowledge upon the Worlds He and his Legion visited during his Tenure in the Ashen Circle.

 

It was during one of these routine assignments that him and his squad - which he commanded - came under sudden attack from Hereteks upon the world of [iussu Imperatoris Redacta]; the traitors having used their Dark Arts to conceal them from the initial waves of the advancing Legion. 

 

Being ill-equipped to handle such a situation, their flamers all but useless against the hardy cybernetics constituting the vast majority of their vaguely humanoid forms and their Axe-Rakes lacking the necessary bite of a Power Axe to punch through their armor, Amon and his brothers were forced to use their Jump Packs to keep the Techno-Monstrosities ever at arms reach.

 

The Hereteks having sprung their trap, spared no expense at ensuring the so-ambushed Ashen Circle would meet their demise at their claws and thus had created a communications black-out in-and-around their chosen hunting grounds of the Liquid-Crystal Data Storage Pillars. Denied any potential reinforcements, it is only by pure luck that Brother Amon and his squad encountered another squad of the Ashen Circle; so vast and sprawling was the cyclopean caverns within which the Pillars were kept.

 

Now doubled in strength, the Ashen Brothers did all they could to lose their pursuers, losing 3 Brothers in the process but, due to their sacrifice, succeeded in giving the survivors enough time to properly regroup and plan for their escape. 

 

Much Nimbler and Agile than their Hunters, Amon and his Brothers used their Jump Packs and their years of experience with them to outsmart and outmaneuver the Hereteks; causing them to wound and even kill each other with their Ancient and Terrible Weapons. It is only by virtue of their status as Astartes that they survived for as long as they did, never faltering nor succumbing to their fate as Mortals surely would have.

 

Over the course of their Four Hour Long cat-and-mouse chase, of the Seventeen remaining, only three were to fall before Amon; One to a Direct Hit from the Vile Weapons of the Hereteks, the other to a Ricochet that would see his Jump Pack Destroyed and the final to a Lack of Fuel. Amon would fall to a Beam Weapon - that would later identified as an ancient precursor to the Darkfire Cannon - that would clip him below the knees and destabilize him enough to cause him to crash. 

 

None, not even Amon, are certain as to why the Hereteks ignored him as they did when they flew over him in pursuit of the remaining survivors. This mistake would be their first and last.

 

Rising on the cauterized stumps of his legs, Brother Amon once again launched himself into the air. Not as a Prey but as a Hunter. So focused upon the prey in front of them were the Hereteks that none ever noticed Amon approaching from behind. It is only when he, with the aid of his Axe-Rake, hooked onto the back of one of the larger Monstrosities and direct its dorsal-mounted Weapon to cut down several of its Grotesque brethren did they realize he was there. By that point, it was too late.

 

Inflamed by zeal and purpose, Brother Amon held on dearly to the back of the creature he rode upon, withstanding lacerating cuts by mechadendrites and crushing blows by servo arms, doing all he could to deviate it off course with the use of his Jump Pack. He would stop these creatures and save his Brethren or die trying.

 

With Amon in their midst sowing confusion and chaos_wink his fellow survivors wasted no time in turning this sudden change into an advantage. Following his example, each marine proceeded to do as he did and straddle their would-be hunters. Each marine, in turn, proceeded to use their jump packs to cause the Hereteks to ram into the Crystalline Pillars over and over again, causing irreparable damage to the Pillars and slowly but surely wearing down the outer layers of armor that protected the more vulnerable systems and non-mechanical parts of the Techno-Monstrosities.

 

After naught but fifteen minutes of relentlessly bashing them into the pillars and the subsequent flaming and hacking apart of their internal structure, all but the Beast Amon lay upon was destroyed. Sensing its imminent destruction, the last Heretek sought to turn the Invaders victory into a Pyrrhic one and let the Marines pile around him at let them hack into his remaining armor. He would take them all with him.

 

It is only by virtue of having had to consume the flesh (what little of it remained) of another Heretek on the surface to find the Vast Cyclopean Chamber within which they now flew that Brother Amon understood what the last remaining beast intended; for along with learning the location of the Pillars, he had learned - if rather rudimentarily - their language.

 

Unbeknownst to the Heretek, now boasting about their eventual destruction at its hands in its native tongue, Amon understood him. So forewarned, he shouted to his Brothers away and launched the beast and himself away from them with the last remaining iota of Jump Pack Fuel and Detonated in what can only be assumed to have been a micro-nuclear explosion.

 

Assumed dead by his Brothers - for what could survive such an explosion? - they immediately departed the caverns to report to high command of the events that had transpired and to reequip themselves for the destruction of the Blasphemous Caverns. Its upon returning to the surface and in the presence of Preatorian in Command that they were greeted by a Grey-Clad Giant with Golden Scripture covering every inch of his skin. The Primarch had been found.

 

Curious about their mission details, Lorgar personally debriefed the survivors. It is during the recounting of the final moments of Brother Amon that his eyes suddenly lit up and ordered all those gathered to return to the Cavernns and proclaimed Amon to yet live. Incredulous but not wanting to disobey their Gene Father, the survivors did as they were ordered to and brought Lorgar and his retinue to the last known location of Amon.

 

Defying all expectations, there they found Amon. Naught but a half-torso and head yet still alive; his armor all but melted away, the beast he slew in ashen piles around him. To the surprise of all gathered, Lorgar took the body into his arms and proclaimed to all those gathered that Brother Amon's survival was due to the Emperors Providence in protecting his greatest servants. So enraptured by Lorgars speech were those in attendance that they failed to realize the implications of his words. All they knew was that Amon, Honored by their Gene Father, would yet serve the Legion.

 

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Depicted here is Venerable Brother-Chaplain Amon. Following his internment in the Sarcophagus of a Dreadnought and subsequent recovery, he quickly became a follower of Lorgars Imperial Cult - for how else could he have survived?

 

However, when the time came for their Betrayal, Lorgar marked (red arm) Amon among those sentenced to die for his unwavering Loyalty to the Imperium and the Emperor. He is seen here, prior to his disappearance, armed with two Dreadnought Power Claws with integrated Heavy Flamers; ever carrying out his original mandate of burning down proscribed, blasphemous and heretical knowledge. His Dreadnought Sarcophagus and Chassis was also among the most embellished of his Legion, owing to the honor personally bestowed upon him by Lorgar, continual service as well as his status of Icon of Faith to the now-renamed Word Bearers Legion.

 

Unlike his fellow legionnaires, Amon decided to keep the Gray of the Heralds as testament to whence they came; lest they forget.

 

 

 

HO BOY! Actually surprised myself with how long this turned out to be. Who would have thought? Not me, thats for sure. Hopefully it isn't too incoherent and actually makes sense..... Last Section I'm still iffy on but I'm ok with it.

 

Painting wise, decided to try something with the front wing-plates and shaded them in Carroburg Crimson after applying Agrax Earthshade onto the Balthazar Gold. Actually like how it came out. Other than that, it was a pretty straight forward paint job.

 

Edit: Yup. Had to redo the literal first sentence because of how it ends >_>

[Flint13]

@ Slipstreams - that dread is looking pretty darn boss!

 

@ BCK - +10 .gif master points for finding dramatic footage of Garrett Dillahunt that isn't the new "Last House on the Left."

[Memento Of Prospero]

And I just realized I posted my pics in the wrong thread, so here you are!

[TheHalifax]

For my entry I've decided to take the advice of some of the Frater and make my XVIIth Legion my own. To that end I've decided to make a chapter comprised entirely of Ashen Circle.

 

I'm sooo close now; the left arm and back-pack choices might change before the end of the week, depending on time. >.<

 

 

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[depthcharge12]

@Flint

That model is awesome and is only superseded by his fluff. It didn't click until halfway through that Slake inhabited the sniper.

 

When I was reading it, my IPad kicked me out of Safari completely. I don't know if it was the IPad's Machine Spirit trying to protect me from reading your unholy scribe or what :P I forcibly overrode it and continued to read your passage at risk of possession.

[daemonclaw]

great work guys 

 

wolf pack@ that is just so brutal and cool

and thehalifax that is a great looking brother right there

 

and so here is Aa'rak orator of the first verse

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[Fire Golem]

  On 2/24/2015 at 11:01 PM, TheHalifax said:

For my entry I've decided to take the advice of some of the Frater and make my XVIIth Legion my own. To that end I've decided to make a chapter comprised entirely of Ashen Circle.

I'm sooo close now; the left arm and back-pack choices might change before the end of the week, depending on time. >.<

 

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Where are those parts from? I love the torso.

[Slips]

  On 2/26/2015 at 4:54 PM, fire golem said:

 

  On 2/24/2015 at 11:01 PM, TheHalifax said:

For my entry I've decided to take the advice of some of the Frater and make my XVIIth Legion my own. To that end I've decided to make a chapter comprised entirely of Ashen Circle.

I'm sooo close now; the left arm and back-pack choices might change before the end of the week, depending on time. >.<

 

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http://i65.photobucket.com/albums/h222/halifaxmark/Mobile%20Uploads/image_2.jpg

 

Where are those parts from? I love the torso.

 

Mk III Command, iirc, with some additional GS on the Chest for the TS Emblem.

[Fire Golem]

Yep, so it is! Cheers!