Priesthood of the Scribe WiP

[Father Mehman]

Welcome, brothers and sisters, to the humble area in which the Scribe's followers reside. This thread will be updated periodically with fluff, stories, musings, and occasional pictures of the priests, missionaries, and other holy men that make up the foundation and head of the Scribe's ecclesiarchical work in the Triedes Sector, Segmentum Pacificus. Instead of focusing on the Priesthood-at-large, we'll instead be looking at various brothers as they go about their Emperor-mandated missions.

To get things started, we'll take a look at one of the leading missionaries of the Priesthood and also why another priest went to war. Enjoy!

Misjonær Ajax Lux

When the Plague of Unbelief came, many souls were unprepared for the devastation. The populace’s hearts and minds had drifted from the light of the Emperor. Yes, they toiled at their daily jobs, maintained the same after-work routines, and more-or-less got on with one another, but there was something missing; something so fundamentally wrong that when the storm hit, all the dams broke.

Wayward Far Ajax Lux had noticed this missing cog within the society’s soul from the first few moments after he set foot on the arid soil of Sudari. His passing elicited few genuflections from the flock of the priest he was there to replace. There were some half-hearted signs of the Holy Aquila, a few just looked at the new priest (not in the eyes, mind you), but mostly those in his vicinity toiled with whatever there was to do: a hollow excuse for the unholy to thrive.

Rumours were the precursor to the horror that followed. At first, the whispers about town were of the recently dead “stirring in their burial mounds”. These whispers were beneath the Far so he continued on with his sermons to those with the wherewithal to guard themselves against the impure, the heretic, and the filthy xenos while he taught the younglings of the community about the heroic deeds of the Emperor. He was sowing seeds that would never grow to be harvested.

Guttural screams rang out through the cool night air but were cut short. It seemed to be a staccato from the hellish Warp. This was the night, Far Lux knew, that there would be pandaemonium throughout the streets and throngs would be coming for aid at his humble temple. He knew this because it had happened before. He was reminded of it every time he looked into a mirror. It never left his mind. This time- this place- would be different, he promised.

The temple bell did not ring to gather the multitudinous, devout followers for he knew that the few that there were were already outside the church. They would be armed for the coming battle but not the war. The Far smiled to himself for those gathered outside were the pious few the Emperor would surely remember and hold dear during and after their dying breaths.

When the doors did open, it was with a boom of electronic feedback and the sound of a well-maintained shotgun loading in its first shell for the night. Many would die. Many had already died. Far Ajax Lux would not be amongst them this night for he was yet to take the mantle of Misjonær and spread the Cult to wayward souls.

Far Magnus the Wrathful

Before taking the title “Wrathful”, the monk Magnus was a peaceful shrine-keeper in the wilds of Negrobi, the first planet in the Sumatari System.

The life out on the plains was full of hardships, even for the anchorite. Daily chores involved finding something to eat and a plentiful water source. Luckily, the Shrine to the Weapon Interred had both; giant, venomous Great Beetles- and the things that hunted them- for game and the only fresh water spring for kilometres. Other tasks required of Magnus were blessings of the interred weapon, daily close combat drills, and the reading of the Magnum Sumatari, the most holy text in the Sumatari System, detailing the life and death of Saint Melker the Scribe and his part in the events that surrounded the Brothers’ War thousands of years ago.

The day Magnus took his title, it was a day the sky should have rained blood. Cultists and a lone Arch-Enemy appeared around the shrine and demanded the monk kneel before their debased, pestilent god of disease or they would kill him in a most gruesome fashion. But first, they were to debase the shrine with raucous laughter and much joy. As the once-marine placed his foot at the base of the shrine, a spark exploded in Magnus’ head. That was all it took for the anchorite to snap- the devils were literally at his doorstep and he had to act.

Praying for righteous action and furious anger, the monk recalled his decades of combat practice. The Saint and the Emperor must have heard his hoarse calling because he did not martyr himself that day. Instead, he set the bar for the next shrine-holders of Negrobi by ripping the head from the Traitor Space Marine single-handedly. The Cultists fled but Magnus knew they would be back, and in numbers hard to count. The time had drawn nigh for the object of the shrine had to be awakened- its planet needed it once more.

With great reverence, Magnus said the prayers of awakening as he released the power couplings from the eviscerator. At the same time, Cultists were making their way behind his back, rusted knives dripping with poison to be the monk’s reward for killing their master. A great, cracking sound and force threw the assassins to the ground. Enoksstorsverd, the holy weapon, was free, and to all who beheld it that day, death followed quickly.

The monk was reborn in the blood of traitors. Calling himself Far Magnus the Wrathful, he vowed himself take pilgrimage and slaughter all forces against Saint Melker and the Emperor on Terra until the day he is martyred for their cause.

[*Furyou Miko]

Very cool.

[KiwiBen]

These look cool @Mehman.  Gives me some ideas for kitbashing a few Priests and other bits and pieces for my SoBs and the Astra Militarum Imperial Guard army that I found in the garage the other day...

 

Have you got any more models in the works?

[Father Mehman]

Since I got done building and Green Stuffing a Nurgle Chaos Lord, we'll see what I can conjure up. I'm thinking something that will get the taste of contagion out of my mouth would be good to build.

[Father Mehman]

Welcome, B&C, to another installment of the Father Mehman the Scribe radio hour! Oh wait, that would've been right 100 years ago. Drat!

This morning, around 323am, a voice told me to build a priest. In answer to that voice I nodded and then rolled over on the bed. Trying to block out the thought was futile. At 400am, I was wide awake and ready for anything. The voice- nay, urge- pulled me into the painting room and sat me down at my desk. After that, it was easy to find the pieces needed for the model. It was almost if the Emperor were guiding my hand through the process...ruminate on that, my children.

After a couple of hours of hacking models in twain (and saving a coin purse, too) and dry fitting them, the priest came alive. His form took on some dynamism, his gesture and stern appearance both moves your attention to the model and also to what he may be pointing towards. Could it be heretics come to take a Chapel from the Ecclesiarchy? I certainly hope not!

Anyway, here's the very WiP picture of Priest III. He still needs his accouterments and some Green Stuff but he's getting there very quickly. Enjoy!

I was lazy with the camera tonight and that's all my fault. Hopefully you can get the gist of what he's doing.

Well, this is your B&C Regimental Priest signing off for the night. As always:

Ave Imperator!

++Thought of the Day: The mind too small for doubt is blessed indeed for what does one need but the Emperor's grace?++

[Sororita Katya]

Is he keeping the stump for a hand? :P

 

Got to close to a rabid Khorne hound.

 

I like the stance a lot, and his staff/banner :)

 

Looking forward to see how he turns out all finished

[Father Mehman]

Yeah, bad photography on my part! It's actually a pointing finger instead of a nub but under the glove on his left hand is all bionics.

[*Furyou Miko]

He looks much younger than most priests!

[Father Mehman]

He's about middle-aged. The handlebar mustache he has will be whatever colour his hair is going to be with grey mixed in together. That slicked-back hair did it for me when I saw the head, though.

 

He's the younger generation of the Priesthood but just barely so. His left hand was lost whilst fighting against the heretic. Well, they sort of held him down and lopped it off for torture. After he escaped the camp as the lone survivor, on both sides, the Priesthood had an augmetic hand made for him, although he always wears a glove to hide his shame for not being martyred. As an honour, he is allowed to carry the Saint's icon into battle, even though he often uses it as a bludgeon. The stasis generator acts like a power field generator seen in power weapons throughout the galaxy, a fact he knows well.

 

That's some of the fluff I'm working on. It'll be fleshed out by the time he is fully painted and based. Thanks for helping me with the fluff, Sister Miko!

[Sororita Katya]

It's common to see young missionaries making a name for themselves on the front line, and I think it's something missed in the actual model range. Yes the good ones become old and weathered but there's still a lot of young ones, like the one Krazy pants tortured and killed.

[Ironheaded]

"Here's yer sign... Heretic" ~blam~

[Sororita Katya]

 

http://i59.tinypic.com/wkn128.jpg

 

http://i58.tinypic.com/34ijs4m.jpg

 

Some inspiration ^_^