++ Turpe Et Dicere ++

[DuskRaider]

Albia in 30K would be the modern day British Isles, BTW. Warhammer Wiki is incorrect.

[Conn Eremon]

Albia in 30K would be the modern day British Isles, BTW. Warhammer Wiki is incorrect.

Both are potentially correct, as both are guesses.

 

 

I rather like this concept of 30k scouts, though I have to admit that only Mahdra looks to me like a Space Marine scout. Both look good, but I'm not seeing much of the Astartes in Vall.

 

Granted, neither is there in 40k scout models, in my opinion .

[Soldier of Dorn]

Easy to miss a new installment 'cause the thread had been quiet for about a month, and I'm glad you enjoyed both the writing and figures.

Bev Duros is an Albian, btw. I thought I had read in Massacre, though I can't seem to find it now, that the ranks of the VIII were swelled with an influx of new recruits from Albia and other areas. I can't imagine that there would be enough of those pale children down in those dark prison sinks to make an entire Terran Legion so they had to bulk out the numbers. The praetor figure I did for the ETL is a crazy Rus(sian), for example. The way I am choosing to differentiate the Night's Children from other recruits is that they only have a given name, while the others have familial names.

I hope to have the next part up soon with Mahdra and Vall painted, as well as currently working on getting some ideas together for the Oxitanian augmented soldiers that they're going up against.

Ah... I misunderstood what you meant when you said he wasn't a Child of Night, thinking that it implied he was a member of another Legion honoured with service in Vall's squad.

Crazy Russians are fun, tho. At one point in time I was working out the background for a whole Word Bearers Chapter of 'em.

[AlanofAngels]

That scout (I feel bad even calling it that because of the comparison then to GW's mis-proportioned doofuses) is absolutely incredible man! I wish I had half of the sculpting talent you did! Regular humans with medium armor and cloaks = awesomeness

[Olis]

Albia in 30K would be the modern day British Isles, BTW. Warhammer Wiki is incorrect.

Both are potentially correct, as both are guesses.

Both may be potentially correct however there's both pros and cons for claiming Albia refers to the British Isles (a theory I subscribe to, as opposed to Albia being Albania): The main con, imo, is that if Albia does indeed refer to the British Isles, then why does the term Albyon also exist? This, rather than negating the theory outright, casts a pall of doubt. Was it retconned at some point? Are they both correct? Is the competing theory more valid because of this?

Not in my mind.

The main pro, again imo, is the referral to Albia bordering an area called 'Atlan' (Lexicanum stating 'Northern Atlan' with a direct page citation). Clearly Atlan is more than likely referring to the lands that once were the Atlantic Ocean. If this is indeed the case then this invalidates the theory that Albia refers to Albania and in fact means the British Isles. What significance does Albania have to a British miniatures company, more so than Britain itself? The 40k universe is heavily influenced by references, schoolboy and otherwise, and therefore it isn't a surprise when names from ancient times are used for places in the far future. Surely, I'd say, 'Albia' and 'Albyon' are nods to these old names from different authors from differing times. Both refer to the same place. That place, I reckon, is the British Isles. And, if I'm honest, I am struggling to see why people would assume Albia did actually mean Albania, seeing as old names for Albania don't include any variation of the word 'Albia' and, to my knowledge there are no significant areas near Albania that could be referred to as 'Atlan'.

Apologies for veering off topic a touch.

[Hyaenidae]

"Do not pass by my epitaph, traveler.

But having stopped, listen and learn, then go your way.

There is no boat in Hades, no ferryman Charon,

No caretaker Aiakos, no dog Cerberus.

All we who are dead below

Have become bones and ashes, but nothing else.

I have spoken to you honestly, go on, traveler,

Lest even while dead I seem talkative to you."

-Ancient Romanii Tomb, Anon.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A Pictographic History of the Heavenfall Chapter, Iconoclasts, XVII Legion; First Series, Second Iteration

++++ Centurion Noam Mahntag, Chapter Champion, 7th (Heavenfall) Chapter, 2nd Battalion ++++

[depthcharge12]

Holy hell dude! Where have you been? Out killing yetis in the back country?

 

And an amazing Iconoclast! Like the scroll work :)

[Olis]

Always good to see progress, brother. Your conversions are always so characterful. 

 

Centurion Noam Mahntag

 

So... Captain Monday? :P

[Calas Typhon]

Well, I suppose that is a nice comeback!

[Soldier of Dorn]

Damn, Noam is a bad-ass. No other words for it, he's just killer

Two questions, though:

1. The emblem on his shield is the same one you used on your XIV Dragoon Standard Bearer that you posted last week, right? Does the commonality have any special significance, or am I missing something big?

2. We've now seen updates for In Memoriam and Turpe et Dicere. Can we expect to see the return of the 3rd Bjaha Sur Cabelleros now?

EDIT: Just checked and it's deffo the same symbol:

No way it's a coincidence. You're the mad Alaskan, the Hyena. Nothing you do is without reason.

[depthcharge12]

Always good to see progress, brother. Your conversions are always so characterful.

 

 

Centurion Noam Mahntag

So... Captain Monday? :P

Well I was going to see if he had a volkite, we could call him "Noam Choomsky" :P

[Olis]

Always good to see progress, brother. Your conversions are always so characterful.

Centurion Noam Mahntag

So... Captain Monday?

Well I was going to see if he had a volkite, we could call him "Noam Choomsky"

That's it, you win this round. I can't compete with that. :lol:

[Hyaenidae]

Quick note: The symbol was once the symbol of Terra Unified, prior to the Accord of Mars. The starburst that surrounds Terra represents the birth of the nascent Imperium, the lightning bolts symbolizing the Unification Wars themselves, and the smaller circle being pierced by the light is Luna. If you look closely at some of the older Legionaires in the HH books, you'll stumble upon the symbol (and other Sol System markings) throughout.

[MakoBoy88]

Well then...

 

 

.. Next level reached.

[Soldier of Dorn]

Quick note: The symbol was once the symbol of Terra Unified, prior to the Accord of Mars. The starburst that surrounds Terra represents the birth of the nascent Imperium, the lightning bolts symbolizing the Unification Wars themselves, and the smaller circle being pierced by the light is Luna. If you look closely at some of the older Legionaires in the HH books, you'll stumble upon the symbol (and other Sol System markings) throughout.

 

Duly noted, sensei. I'll be using that later, then.

[Captain Nameless]

Good to see you back.

 

And now I'm going to look through my Horus Heresy books for that symbol.

[Xin Ceithan]

Quick note: The symbol was once the symbol of Terra Unified, prior to the Accord of Mars. The starburst that surrounds Terra represents the birth of the nascent Imperium, the lightning bolts symbolizing the Unification Wars themselves, and the smaller circle being pierced by the light is Luna. If you look closely at some of the older Legionaires in the HH books, you'll stumble upon the symbol (and other Sol System markings) throughout.

So that is that star symbol on the FW Iron Warrior torso?! Good to know...

 

Anyway, good to see you back, brother. and with a bang, no less.

[Black Cohort]

That champion is outstanding.

[Brother Pheidias]

Can't believe this slipped past the ol' Auspex. Cracking writing, great characters and the painting and modelling is so beautiful I could cry :lol:

Subscribinated!

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

It's been dormant for a little while and that might be why you missed it.

[jeremy1391]

He's back!!!! SQUUUEEEE!!!

[Memento Of Prospero]

Good to see you back into the fray ;)

[Daemon2027]

Good to see you back painting buddy. I really like the movement this model has, great work

[Brother-Chaplain Kage]

   http://i.imgur.com/73hgwYe.png?1

 

-- Chapter 3: We Have Come For You --

 

     Allard Marchion sat at his monitoring station, Arterial Sub-Section A102, checking his bank of twenty-four monitors - three rows of eight - in turn, verifying with each guard post as he did. All of the guards checked in with nothing unusual to report as they all had every hour for the past three hours. Each guard post was marked on his data tablet with an ’Affirmative - no unusual activity’ entry. Once a member of the zsu-hathar, age and the wounds he had taken in his career had caught up to him a few years back and he was given a desk job in one of the many outer arterial tunnel systems to finish out his remaining term of service until retirement.

     A102 was a quiet, out-of-the-way sub-section that had once been a major thoroughfare in the centuries past when the bombs first fell and the Oxitanians had begun digging out the cave systems to save their lives. Each such sub-section was a self-contained unit built with airtight reinforced bulkheads, not unlike a space faring vessel or the submarines of old. This particular sub-section had followed the path of smaller, extant caves that had been enlarged, so its layout was less ordered than others, looking for all the world like branching veins and blood vessels on his map display.

    Marchion yawned, took a drink of caffeine enhanced nutrient water from his thermos, and glanced at his wrist chron. One more hour and then he could go home to Nella and the girls.

    Many Oxitanians, his wife included, were worried about this new Eighth Legion the arrogant “Emperor” had sent against them because they acted nothing like the previous ones who called themselves the Dusk Raiders. Where the Dusk Raiders had clearly made themselves visible, tried to parley a surrender and then offered terms for honorable combat if refused, this Eighth Legion had been visible on the borders for five days and then completely vanished. The only communication from them had been a cryptic message broadcast on all radio and data channels that said simply “We have come for you.” In the two weeks since, patrols in the outlying areas began disappearing without a trace. Many of the patrols sent to investigate the disappearances also went missing. No bodies, no equipment, and only one time was there even any blood to be found. The civilians began to get nervous, but the soldiers knew that the tazonnes being sent out were the worst of the worst - screw ups and has-beens that were mostly criminals avoiding execution by entering the service and getting assigned the jobs no one else wanted.

    When the first tazonne of the giant, genetically and cybernetically enhanced zho-kren went missing, that’s when everyone started to get anxious. Alert levels were raised along with punishments for infractions, and everyone was on edge. Shifts had been shortened and rotations increased to keep men fresh and alert, but it still didn’t help the long stretches of time pass, and every day more units went missing. Two days ago, an entire sub-section tunnel out in the badlands had gone dark. Six tazonnes were mobilized to investigate - four zsu-hathar and two zho-kren - and what they found was a massacre, but nothing like what they were expecting: every man had died at his post without ever firing a shot. Most of them still had their weapons slung as if they were taken without knowing the enemy was there. Written in their own blood somewhere near each man was that same message: We have come for you.

    Marchion was about to reach for his thermos again when he heard something very faint in his headset like a whisper. “What was that?” he radioed, looking up at his monitors. “Who is on this channel? We’re under strict radio protocols and if I find out one of you is playing around, I’ll have you before the marshals.” He did another run through of all of his guard posts and all twenty-four assured him it was not them. Just to be sure, he played back the time mark on each monitor and confirmed none of them had been speaking or even activating their radios at the time. Then he heard the sound again.

    “Julaine?” he asked, calling for his radio specialist.

    “I heard it, sir, and recorded it. Working on cleaning it up now.”

    “The instant you get a clear version of that, I want to hear it.”

    “Of course, sir.”

    Looking back to his monitors, the men were getting fidgety at their posts with wide eyes and raised weapons scanning their sections of tunnel with sharp, jerky movements.

    “Easy, boys,” Marchion radioed. “It’s probably just an echo, but keep sharp.” Keeping to protocols, they all signaled affirmative with a single click of their radio. Feeling a bit uneasy himself, he pulled his sidearm, did a brass check, and set it on the desk in front of him. That faint whisper sounded in his headset again. “Julaine? Damn it, I want-“

    “Was just about to signal you, sir. You’re not going to like this.”

    “Just play it.”

    “It’s very faint, sir. You’ll want to turn your volume up. I’ll play it in three seconds.”

    He turned the volume up until the electric hum was practically throbbing in his ears, and then he heard the click of the recording beginning. The voice was low, barely a whisper, but as hard and unforgiving as the radiated surface of Oxitania. It had flat quality to it, with no hint of any discernible accent. It said only five words: “We have come for you.”

    Marchion went cold inside and reached for the reassuring weight of his sidearm. The message wasn’t a warning, but a death sentence. He was just calm enough to remember to turn down his headset volume before activating the radio. “Alert, all posts! Possible hostiles in the sub-section or trying to gain entry! Julaine, report this immediately to anyone within response range!” On his monitors, the guards hunkered down into their stations, searching for targets. There was silence on the radio. “Julaine? Respond.”

    When Julaine still refused to answer, he looked to the monitor for station nineteen. The large handset for the radio was sitting on the desk, the operator’s chair spilled over onto the stone floor, but Julaine was nowhere to be seen. Heart pounding, he activated the camera controls for the station and panned it around. Nothing. No blood, no trace of the man at all.

    “We have come for you,” came a different voice on the radio. It was pleasant, almost conversational, like a friend you’d known your whole life.

    The monitor with the video feed of post nine went dark. “Sulene!” Marchion barked into the radio. “Respond! I’ve lost video feed! What is your status?”

    From post seventeen, the closest in physical proximity to nine, a faint scream that was suddenly cut short could be heard echoing down the tunnel.

    “We have come for you,” said the hard, whispered voice again.

    Posts three and twenty-two went dark almost simultaneously.

    “We have come for you,” radioed a rasping, deep voice.

    “ALERT! Intruders in the sub-section!” Marchion shouted into his mic. Men were radioing back frantically that they couldn’t see anything, with their eyes or through their infrared scopes. “Keep the channel clear! I only want reports of sightings!”

    Post seventeen blinked out. Then nine and six. A few seconds later, two and twenty-one.

    “We have come for you,” said a new voice, like something from a nightmare. Completely devoid of emotion, it sent a shudder down Marchion’s spine.

    The monitor for post twelve showed the guard, Merrit DeCoer, throwing off his headset and running frantically out of frame. Marchion was about to call out to him on the radio when a figure stepped into view. If he was one of these astartes, he was considerably shorter than the Dusk Raiders they had seen previously. Clad in dark, dusty combat gear, he carried a smaller version of the same “bolt” weapon on a sling as the Dusk Raiders had. His head was covered in a helmet with large optics and a respirator face mask. A cloak or cape of some kind hung loosely about his shoulders, but what had Marchion's attention was the short, dark blade in the man’s hand, stained with blood. He stared up at the camera for a long moment before wiping the blood off of the blade on his cloak and sheathing it. He took up his rifle and rushed out of frame in a blur. Marchion frantically adjusted the camera, sweeping it back and forth to look both ways down the tunnel, but the man had vanished.

    “We have come for you,” came the whisper again. Then the friendly voice, and then the emotionless one. They began to repeat, overlapping, and more of them joined in. “We have come for you. We have come for you! We have come for you!”

    More of the monitor feeds went dead and the voices grew louder and louder in his ears. Men were screaming incoherently into the radio, all semblance of order as dead as their companions. Gunfire would start up and just as quickly be silenced. Then a new voice joined in on the channel, burned out and raw. It barely sounded human and at first, Marchion didn’t even realize that the non-stop screaming actually had words in it.

    “WE HAVE COME FOR YOU! WE HAVE COME FOR YOU! WE HAVE COME FOR YOU! WE HAVE COME FOR YOU!”

    The speed of the voice that was screaming out the words began to increase until there was no pauses between the words and it became one awful, ragged wall of noise. Marchion threw off his headset, grabbed up his sidearm, and noticed that all of his monitors were dark. He trained his weapon at the heavy metal door - the only way into or out of the room - and waited for his killers to come. He hoped that he could get at least one or two of them before he died. He hoped that his wife and children would at least have a body to cremate.

    A hand reached over his shoulder from behind and clamped down on his mouth with such force that it cut his lips open on his own teeth. The howling voice could still be heard faintly from his headset. A blade sank into the middle of his back, parting armor and flesh both with ease, angled upwards to slice into his heart. In the fleeting seconds that remained of his life, he realized that he had been in this room for hours with the door sealed, and that his killer had been in here, with him, the entire time. As his vision began to go dark, he felt breath against his ear, and the last thing he would ever hear was five whispered words.

 

 

http://i.imgur.com/yMXFpJ5.png

 

Reconstructed video capture of unknown VIII Legion Astartes from partially-destroyed footage, Arterial A102

 

 

And some clearer pics of the model:

http://i.imgur.com/jjxaD0D.png

 

http://i.imgur.com/KY5yM9G.png

 

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

[Fire Golem]

Genuinely creepy. That would make an excellent short film.