++ March of the Legions: XV Legion ++

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

Month 6: The XV Legion

If you missed last month's competition, and/or would like to learn the rules for this competition, please read the first post here: http://www.bolterand...gion/?p=3850046

If you dare to accept this challenge, please recite the following oath:

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I, Brother Chaplain Kage, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear.

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Sorry I didn't get this post up yesterday but I had a long day at work. Have at it!

[Slips]

I, Brother Slipstreams, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear. 

 

Time to get cracking on my Servin Loth that I saved just for this!

[Adra'Melek]

I, Adra'Melek, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear

[Memento Of Prospero]

I Wolf_Pack, will do the thing. Another month, another traitor legion appreciation project.

[StruManChu]

I, StruManChu, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear.

I'm guessing it's alright that I may have started yesterday?

[Ezeriel]

I, Ezeriel, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear.

[Ion]

I think I will try one of these...

I, Brother Ion, accept my role in this.
I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.
I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.
I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.
On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear.

[Grotsmasha]

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I, Grotsmasha, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear. 

 

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For the first time since The March has begun, I don't have my model assembled and ready to go :cry

 

 

Holy :cuss , I totally have model ready to go.....on second thoughts, he doesn't really fit in with the "test out your Legion scheme" goal of The March.....

[StruManChu]

Usually I wake up the morning after a 2am conversion idea and think 'What in the hell was I trying to do here..?'

But this has turned out pretty good!

[Kor'Vesh]

Love him Stru. If you could turn the centre of the chest piece into a scarab with green stuff I think he might be perfect!

[Ion]

http://i.imgur.com/PwQ9fIZ.jpg?1

 

Had to cannibalize some legs for him, and not quite sure what I'm going to do with his helmet, but overall he's not looking too bad.

[jeremy1391]

I better get my butt in gear!

[Ion]

I need opinions on the helm for my entry if you would all be so kind.

 

With helmet crest or without?

 

http://i.imgur.com/5iOmgVg.jpg?1

[Slips]

The crest looks a bit too tall and with the wings makes it look kinda wonky. If you could make it out like an Iron Halo planted on the back of the Chest Collar, it could work better.

[Ion]

There wasn't enough room between the head and jump pack for it, so I've dropped the crest altogether

[Atia]

not sure if i'm able to manage him this month but ...

 

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I, Atia, Lady of the Rumour Tower, mistress of re-directs, arch-witch of Vienne, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear. 

 

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[Rune Priest Ridcully]

I, Rune Priest Ridcully, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear

​does the model have to be from scratch? i have a 40k one that has been partially built and painted for ages, would it be okay to use that as the basis of my model for this or would it require either one entirely new one or at least stripping?

[Slips]

DONSIEZ!!!

 

Really proud of how this one turned out!! Though I'm disappointed at how blown out the Colors always end up being due to my Phone Camera >:|

 

Pictures:

 

 

 

 

 

 

*note: the Light Blue on the top of his Tabard and Chest Plates Collar are to represent a surge in Psychic Energy emanating from his Chest as Blue Light.

 

Fluff:

 

 

 

Depicted Here: Sorcerer Ashur Kyat of the Corvidae Cult of the Thousand Sons Legion. Equipped in Artificer Wrought Mk IV Power Armor, he, along with a few others, had the unique distinction of testing Prototype Psychic Harnesses that would later be developed into Psychic Hoods.

*Of Note: Psychic Sigils and Runes engraved into his Armor as well as some trinkets - possibly keys - of unknown provenance and usage.

He is also Armed with a Force Axe created under his own personal supervision and tuned to him to the utmost degree.

 

+++

 

He was not present, he blamed himself, as he stared at the Burning Planet below him from Orbit. He clenched his jaw and fists. He should have been there. Through the warp he still heard the Echos of his Brothers passing. Even across the Galaxy, he heard them. That is how he knew.

 

He Punched the viewing decks window. He should have known. He DID know. His visions had shown him, he was of the Corvidae, after all; maybe even the last...Though he did not feel Ahrimans passing, he mused.

 

Maybe, if he had not gone to the Crimson King and stayed on Prospero, he would have been able to do something. Yet, when he went to seek council from his Gene Father about his visions, he was assuaged that he, Magnus, Primarch of the XVth Legion would see to it personally; that he had another duty to accomplish and that he should no longer dwell on these visions in particular.

 

Maybe if he had gone to Ahriman, his Magister Templi, things would have gone differently.

 

Maybe.

 

As he reflected in orbit above a broken world, continent-wide plumes of smoke. He sighed in sadness in the thought that he would never again be able to gaze upon the majesty of the Glass Spires Tizca.

 

Snapping himself out of his grief induced reflection, he brought his mind back to the present. As Sorcerer and overall commander of this detachment he now held the future of the Brothers under him in his hands.

 

And he would not fail them.

 

At that Very instant, he felt another great disturbance in the force* Warp. Across the Galaxy, in the Ultima Segmentum, he heard thousands of souls cry out in anger, sadness but greatest of all, Betrayal and with it, the name of the Warmaster.

 

Now finally grasping the meaning behind his most recent visions, his purpose was clear. The one who had brought upon the destruction of his Legion and all his allies would pay and they wore not the Trinkets and Totems of Fenris.

 

*I had to.

 

 

[Combat_Vet]

I, 200Plus, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear. 

[EdT]

 

I, Edt, accept my role in this.
I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.
I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.
I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.
On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear.
 

 
This is very good timing; the plan is to finish off my Thousand Sons Barque by the end of the month! Here's where I am so far...

 

[Zujara]

I, Zujara, accept my role in this.
I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.
I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.
I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.
On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear

[OrangeBob]

I, Orangebob, accept my role in this.

I promise to lead the XV Legion into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory.

I will do so no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe.

I pledge my honor to the XV Legion.

On this matter, and by the Crimson King, I swear. 

[Atia]

Thousand Sons Consul Praevian - WIP :P

[Combat_Vet]

This months poorly written fluff

The sky fell, the world cracked, a Legion was laid low, and Prospero burned.

Hours into to assault, Haakon strode through the rubble of yet another block. Nothing was left standing as the orbital bombardments had done their job well. His prey's scent filled his nostrils and the taste of death in the air let him know he was close. He found him there in the remains of some sort of creche, surrounded by his slain and standing over the mangled bodies of his wards.

"Stand down lad", he said as he pushed through the doorway and into the remains of the building "you know me, it doesn't have to end like this".

"Haakon, of course it would be you" the warrior in humming red plate smiled for the first time in ages. "There is only one way for this to end Old Wolf".

"No Lad, I give you my axe on it. I will speak for you to the Wolf King. Your Legion is dead, but you can live, it's been done before".

"No words Haakon, no Kings. Betrayal must be met with vengeance. It's the old way as well you know, Cousin."

"You are not tainted Pihor, you don't need to die with the rest" Haakon implored "I owe you a life debt and would see it repaid".

"Tell me Old Wolf" the other chuckled "if it was reversed would you walk away whilst I butchered the Rout?. We both know how this ends traitor".

"You can't best me lad. Lay down you arms in the name of the All Father and the Wolf King". Haakon thumbed the activation on his thunder hammer in preparation of the violence to come.

"It's been near a century since we shared the field Haakon and decades since we shared the cages. I have learned much in that time and you have forgotten it seems". Pihor rolled his shoulders and triggered his massive Eviscerator chain sword.

"I've forgotten nothing lad and I've come to pay my life debt" Haakon said as he raised his shield and began circling his friend, wary now of attack.

"Indeed you have, Old Wolf, you've forgotten that the Thousand Sons too have conquered worlds. Do you think we are a Legion of Remebrancers? You very much will be paying that life debt today old friend......."

The hammer cracked, the Eviscerator screamed, a friendship died, and Prospero burned.

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/2432B135-374A-49ED-B817-DE6942C3E7F4_zpst7actqxr.jpg

http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w291/meadows88/Mobile%20Uploads/F92933E6-F315-432A-813C-8F5D2C2EBBA4_zpsbtx4704d.jpg

[EdT]

Finally finished! Only taken me three months...

 

The Barque of Neter-khertet

 

 

 

 

At the beginning of the 387,420,489^th minute of their voyage, as the chronometer in his Nemes-crowned helm reckoned it, the Barque of Neter-khertet slipped from the skies above a verdant forest into a world of toppled spires and choking dust that seemed strangely familiar, and Jahandar Arzani heard a voice whisper his name.

 

“…Jahandar …”

 

It was the first sound he had heard in a long time, aside from the howling of the winds. His brothers had long since lapsed into silence and he had not even heard the low hum of their armour for a great while. Somehow, this fact did not disturb him much; they would doubtless be meditating. Curious, and tired of observing yet another world- how many had it now been?- Jahandar awoke his armour’s reactor from its power-saving mode and turned his eyes away from the bleak landscape below to seek out the noise, his muscles and armour protesting at the unaccustomed movement. He could not remember the last time he had shifted his stance.

 

The barque, though, was just as he remembered it. A strange craft on which to wander the cosmos, he thought. It was a small thing really, barely the size of a Land Raider but nowhere near as massive; a golden platform, covered in carvings and esoteric text, dominated by the device in its centre, half life support mechanism, half aetheric magnifier. Jahandar gazed at its occupant sadly. Amenhotep. The exertion of the journey had clearly taken its toll on his master. Amenhotep had not moved since the moment he had assumed the ritual position on the dais, placed the golden circlet on his brow, and floated upwards, his back arched in a silent howl of pain. His cheeks were sunken, his skin leathery like an embalmed corpse, but he still lived; he must still live, Jahandar thought, otherwise our journey would not continue.

 

His master had been right, of course; there was no other choice. Their father the Crimson King might have been content to present his throat to the teeth of the Wolves, but meek submission to death could not be borne, any more than the open treason of retaliation. “We still have friends,” Amenhotep had said, as the ground shook with the impact of their persecutors' orbital bombardment. “We will present ourselves before the Emperor, and the Great Angel and the Khan will intercede for us.”

 

The orbital blockade of Prospero was impenetrable by conventional means, but the sons of Magnus had never been one for convention; one did not necessarily need a space craft to travel between worlds.  The barque was one of his master’s hidden treasures, archaeotech recovered from under the Sigilite’s nose at a great archaeological dig in the sands of Gyptus on Old Earth. Amenhotep, Jahandar and their cabal had spent years trying to uncover its secrets; their decision to flee using the device was a wild gamble born of desperation, although one that had seemingly paid off.

 

Jahandar could not immediately see who had spoken his name. Khamose’s helmet lenses remained dark, his great khopesh resting on his shoulder as it always did, and although Hakor and Ashrat were facing away from him, neither were moving. The mortal acolytes were also facing away, standing but with their heads bowed, as if powered down; Jahandar did not think to wonder how they still lived after all this time without sustenance. By now confused, he reached out with his third eye, lightly brushing the souls each of his fellow travelers. He felt nothing, save dust. Beside him, Iset sensed his exertion and wordlessly offered him his khopesh; Jahandar smiled, and shook his head at the tutelary. Did you learn how to speak, Iset? Jahandar projected; the being cocked its head for a second then offered him the weapon again, as if in apology.

 

Jahandar sighed, and turned away. As he did so, the barque slipped into a new world. They flew above a great river in darkness; the fast-flowing current twisted layers of sediment into what looked like screaming faces. He looked more closely. Those _are_ faces.

 

The noise came again, louder this time.

 

“…Jahandar…”

 

He whirled round, his staff outstretched and wreathed in energy- and saw nothing. All was stillness, just as before; and then with slow deliberation, the figure on the dais slowly uncrossed its arms and sat up.

 

“Hello Jahandar,” Amenhotep said, rising from the dais under psychic compulsion and drifting towards his old pupil, his feet barely brushing the deck, “it is good to speak with you once again.”

 

“Master?” Jahandar croaked, his throat raw with disuse, “how have you risen? We have not arrived on Terra, and I do not know what place this is," he gestured to the inky waters and spectral forms below, "although I can guess.”

 

His master stared at him through sunken eyes. “All in time. Things have changed, Jahandar. I have changed. Yet we still have the same destination, even if the journey is longer than we anticipated. This is usual when one travels through Neter-khertet, the Great Ocean.”

 

He held his pupil’s gaze. “The ancient Gyptos believed that each soul that traverses the Great Ocean arrives wiser, or not at all. Tell me, what have you learnt, these years? We have travelled through many worlds, and you have had ample time to consider what you have observed. You have seen civilisations rise, and fall. You have seen species creep out of the forests for the first time, and then immolate themselves in nuclear fire hundreds of thousands of years later. You have seen Prospero- yes, several times I think- as it was, and now is, and will be. You have seen the infinite majesty and detail of the galaxy. And what was the one constant? What links together everything you have seen?”

 

Jahandar thought for a second. “There was no constant, save change. Species rise, expand, wax and then decay, leaving behind only their monuments- and over time, even these erode. There is only change. Is this the lesson you seek to teach me?”

 

Amenhotep’s desiccated features creased into a smile. “You always were a good student, Jahandar. You always ask the right questions. That is indeed the lesson. Change is the only constant; as the Philosopher once said, the past resembles the future as water does water. You have given me a better answer than the last time we spoke on this matter.”

 

Something about his tone made Jahandar pause. “I do not recall that conversation. Did we speak of this on Prospero?”

 

His master ignored the question. “Change.” Amenhotep breathed, thoughtfully. “Tell me, Jahandar; when they took you from your family on Terra to join the Legion, when you ceased to be human and became trans-human, there must have been those that saw your metamorphosis as a horrific thing. Were they right, do you think? Did you lose your humanity entirely and become something else? Something terrible?”

 

Jahandar shook his head. “Such an argument is understandable, but fundamentally it is based on emotion and ignorance. I have set aside part of my humanity, to a higher calling, but my essence remains human. I am… intimidating to unenhanced humans, but much of that intimidation is due to how powerful I have become.”

 

Amenhotep nodded, slowly. “Jahandar…" he said, carefully, "I have undergone a second metamorphosis.”

 

There was a rustle, as if of distant wings, and Amenhotep’s desiccated features began to shift and alter like melted wax. His ears disappeared, and his nose began to recede; his ceremonial beard merged with his chin and split to form something like a beak. Suddenly he was towering over Jahandar, who instinctively stepped backwards, his khopesh leaping from Iset's arms into his hand with a single thought.

 

Amenhotep spread his arms wide; Jahandar saw his armour now bore golden feathers. "Peace, my friend. Do not be alarmed. When the snake sheds its skin, is it not the same snake? When the butterfly emerges from its cocoon, is it not a natural and wonderful change?”

 

Jahandar looked on his master with horror mingled with fascination, the khopesh still raised. "What have you done?" he breathed. Amenhotep cocked his grotesquely elongated head.

 

"We all learn things when we traverse the Great Ocean. I was fortunate to have been further along the path to enlightenment than you when our journey began. But you are becoming wiser. The last time we spoke, you tried to strike me down as a victim of the Flesh-Change."

 

Jahandar felt the ghost of a stabbing pain, and dimly remembered looking down to see his master's blade buried to the hilt in his chest. He sighed, wearily, and handed his khopesh back to Iset. "How many times have we spoken, and what has happened to our brothers?"

 

Amenhotep considered the heqa wand in his hand. "This is the seventh occasion we have spoken like this, and each time you grow closer. You will only reach your destination when you have travelled enough to understand the universality of change. That is the lesson that must be taught. As for the others; Hakor, Ashrat and Khamose have comparatively little psychic potential compared to your own. Let us just say that they shall obey your instructions when the time comes."

 

Jahandar smiled grimly. "Seven is a number of ritual significance. Is my journey over then? It has evidently lasted longer than even I had realised."

 

If Amenhtep's avian features could have creased into a smile, they would have done. "Occult numerology was never your strong suit, Jahandar . Your internal chronometer will tell you it has been 387,420,489 minutes since we last spoke. Does that not tell you everything? Nine is my master's sacred number, not seven. We will talk again, you and I, and then once more. Have patience, Jahandar. Let your journey prove enlightening."

 

Amenhotep spread his feathered arms and leapt into the air, laughing, as Jahandar called his name. His master glided in a lazy circle around the barque, before diving into the water below and disappearing into the inky blackness. Jahandar whirled round to stare at the empty dias, willing it to remain in his memory. I can't forget this, he thought, I won't...

 

Presently the barque left the river of souls, and soared above a parched world of mineral crystals and oily pools, some of which burned with a blue flame. The way the fire flickered pleased Jahandar, and he watched it for some time, sighing in disappointment when the landscape below disappeared, only to be replaced with a dusty tangle of ruined stone and broken glass. What had he been thinking about? Nothing important, he concluded; it was easy for the mind to wander in these conditions.

 

Rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles, Jahandar glanced over at Amenhotep's recumbent form and then, realising he was still holding his Khopesh, summoned Iset to take it and hold it for him. As the others were meditating, he turned back to look out over the toppled spires of the ruined city below. A thought struck him, and he called up his armour’s internal chronometer. Have we only been travelling for six hours? He thought with some surprise when he saw what was in the display. It somehow feels like a lot longer.