Mechanist's Plog, Chaos Knights (yes Plural)

[Biohazard]

This is looking great, agree with the others that the zoomed out view gives a much better idea of the scale of the task you've set yourself. Looking forward to seeing the legs progression :tu:

[Mechanist]

Bit of both. I'll be using what I have as a starting point and blending them in to match. Other than a bit more work round the lower leg, feet and armour plates the one thats had the most work fits well. Some tassets at the hips might get added for a little more bulk there but with the shin armour on its ok so far. Repose is happening though, I tacked it together to use in a game and while solid the base really struggled.

I should have something special waiting at home to help with the pose.

[Mechanist]

*****UPDATE*****

Yup you read that right, after vanishing for god know how long I'm back with new pictures.

So the repose is finished, the ##Redacted## bits came through and after seeing Kraut's uses of a press mould on the base of his apothecary along with the Youtube video I went that route and as I'm trimming and shaping to make it fit I'm glad I was working with the softer greenstuff to plastic.

Thanks for all the encouragement and I think this is definitely the stronger pose now. The arms are still loose and I've got a choice to make on the left arm that once the glue has dried I'll get some pictures.

I've just rested the leg armour in place for now and the ankles have a long 2mm pin through from the base that aren't glued into the legs yet so will allow me to separate the base as I work on the legs. After much faffing about I relented and glued the hips in place and will be sculpting over the joins and will have to paint in one go.

Once the core legs are done I'll also look at armour plates, expect skulls to feature heavily just like the pauldrons.

As for next steps tonight is my last night in Okpo Korea for this trip, it's only been a short one with the last weekend on a sea trial. Normally it takes about a week/week and a half to get over jetlag and motivated but last friday was the first day of the trial and got back to land yesterday. On the last trip I did manage a bit more since my last post but not enough for photos to show much.

Since I'll be packing away tonight we'll have to see what's next, home is expected to be busy with kids and stuff but I've got a real bug to get some painting done (including some bolt action which won't feature here obviously) so the box of Rubric Marines I got for christmas may feature heavily.

While home I did manage to finish a model I've had kicking around nearly finished since my first Korea trip last January.

I had a play with crackly effect on this and it doesn't really show up well from a distance but for a test model I'm now happy with him and ready to move onto the rest of the unit so that might feature as well in the coming month.

I've also been working on the next part of the Knight's story but it keeps getting away from me with the length so that might be ready soon if I'm lucky.

So lots of possibilities and please let me know what you think.

[Chandrian]

The Blood God would be please with that Knight! It came together really well and the pose is very intimidating. It's almost as if its roaring at its next challenge or roaring in victory! 

[Vairocanum]

Great to see an update! I really like the pose of the knight. The cracked effects look nice on the nurgle too. Looking forward to seeing more!

[brettfp]

This thing is AMAZING!! I really love the shoulders, and just the sheer amount of detail on the whole thing. well done!

[hushrong]

Yep. That wraithknight should have stayed home.

 

Glad to see you back in action!

[Mechanist]

Thanks guys. 

The good news is that I did get the Knight out of the Box and onto a shelf, this little thing may not sound like much but it's much easier to look up and get the model down and do stuff than see a box. While the actual effort required to get the model out of the box is really not that much when tired after work it seems like so much more hassle to get set up and make a start.
So hopefully I'll actual do something with it between Korea trips, especially as it's rapidly getting to the point that I don't want to risk it getting damaged while transporting it.

[Sagentus]

That Knight is amazing, cant wait to see the finished product! 

[Mechanist]

So I've once again back in Korea on a sea trial and while I can't do any modeling I've had a few hours today to do some typing and managed to break onto the next bit of the next chapter where I'd been struggling to get into the core fight and spending too much setting it up. Having done that I managed to crack on and finish the whole 1st blessing so I thought I'd share. 

 

I'll include the earlier chapters again for anyone who fancies reading them through though they've not changed for the earlier pages.

So here lies the earliest tails of the 7 Blessed, the Iron Butcher, Khornate Knight Gallant.

Hope people enjoy them, now I've got the first three chapters down I'm going to share my notes of the next blessings so I can get some more feedback. 

 

Fall to Chaos

The being sat in his throne, beyond human yet not far enough. The seven blessed, staring down at the chronometer, it was an auspicious day, and eight hundred and eighty eight years marked the dial. Eight hundred and eighty eight long years since the seventh blessing, twice that since the sixth and an eternity since the first. What came before that? Only flickers of memory, a red planet, betrayal and the discordant music.
Surround by enemies, traitors? No, friends? Surrounded and the music just on the edge of hearing, comrades in blue armour. No! Not friends, traitors to the Fabricator-General the music tells him so. One of the blue ones is trying to talk but why, why would the enemy talk? Hold his position? The enemy can’t persuade him. Lock down his comms? No he must hear the music it talks to him, tells the truth, silence traitors. He moves towards the talking one. Close formation so close, his fist racing towards the skull faceplate. Chaos erupts, rents in blue armour and the buzzing of chainswords. Fist and blade flying, smoke and ruin, surrounded on all sides, yet so close they can’t prevent their fate. The war spirit of the machine screaming in rage and pain as the discordant music rips through its cognitive circuits. Freedom, beautiful freedom, long held shackles of control broken in a moment’s action.
Time passes and the moment ends surrounded by wreckage, the fallen foes torn to pieces the one being left standing. Near silence fills the ruined hall, just the sound of cooling metal and the drips as fluids leak from ruptured lines. Yet there is something else a buzzing on the edge of consciousness the music faint now yet insistent.
One last thing to do, open the city gates.
The survivor commands his stead forward, Chainblade roaring, power field crackling around the fist and Warhorn blazing. If this was the enemy how come he was inside the gates? No! Irrelevant, the music grows louder, sounds forming; messages and visions of glory besiege his mind.
Sparks fly and the blade screams, a fist pounding against the bar keeping the gate closed. With a boom of thunder the fist’s power field releases its energy for the last time, the steed is shaken and the bar cracks, splits and shatters.
Pushing forward the gates open and the music turns from a buzz to a crescendo as the lone survivor, loyal to the Fabricator welcomes his first true brothers and sisters beyond the gate. Sense from the music, understanding and two words whose meaning seems insignificant filters back from a time unremembered,
“Scrap code”

 

Mark of Khorne

A Loud Clang echoed through the cockpit bringing reality spiralling back, the Chronometer still read 888 years and impatience boiled the 7 Blessed’s blood. The waiting drove daggers of pain though it’s skull as it surveyed the meters and dials surrounding it with bestial eyes.

Reflexive signals and a blurt of scrap code echoed around the arming chamber in response, muffled by the machine’s shell. Sluggishly the war machine responded to those commands, its fist striking out at the clumsy adept that had triggered the pain response.

A muffled scream and a thump as the Dark adept hit the wall, a feeling of warmth on the back of his hand the moment blood splattered across the war machine’s massive gauntlet. Once again memories began to surface and the being passed back into the coma of bonding as he and his steed readied for battle.

Centuries had passed since first hearing the discordant music, hundreds of battlefields millions of deaths. How naive had he been back then, believing these brothers and sisters of the music would be true, but it had been a lie. Thrown into the frontlines, used as a distraction, treated like a dog. No matter how many veterans of the house passed while he survived, no matter the odds he overcame, no matter the foes he defeated he couldn’t impress them.

They called him Proditor, gave him the scraps of the armoury and dregs as his Sacristans yet that would all change.

On a back water Mining world the Household had joined up with traitor Marines of the Iron warrior legion. Resistance had been light and there had been little worth unleashing their trained dog on. The household had terrorised the citizenry as the Warsmith’s troops had efficiently dealt with what little resistance they encountered.

Yet one last fortification stood in the way of total victory and the real spoils, the Mine Gates. Defended by two mighty macro cannons it was time for Proditor to once again charge into the jaws of death.

Yet the Household weren’t the only Mercenaries of the Iron warriors, a warband of the XII lead by the legendary 8^th captain fought by their side.

There was nothing more to do now, the Warsmith was impatient and this world held no challenge. It would not be a siege, no prolonged standoff, just brute force and cannon fodder. In the middle he stood surrounded by the slaves and chaff the IV legion would drive into the guns of the defenders.  Behind them came the daemon engines, experimental constructs of the legion and their dark mechanicus allies, barely controllable fusions of warp steal and flesh. Thirsting for blood these beast would chase after the rabble in front, like flesh carrots dangling just out of reach, ever driving them forward for the guns of the enemy held so much less to fear.

The insult was obvious, the household held failed daemon cursed wrecks in higher esteem than an ancient steed with a pilot of centuries experience. Fuming at this damnation the engine began its march among the rabble towards the imperial fortifications. As the beasts behind where unleashed what was a fearful cautious approach became a rout, thousands of captives and slaves poured forwards toward the enemy guns. Many of them shouted prayers of salvation pleading to be let in and away from the traitors, others cried out to the dark gods hoping to be heard and elevated in the eyes of their masters. It mattered not; the imperial filth would slay everyone without mercy all seen as traitors no matter how they came to be there.

As the rabble closed the defenders opened up, las shots and the chatter of heavy weapons coming for the closest fire points. But the macro cannons remained silent. The horde closed closer and closer yet the guns stayed silent and the fire from the guardsmen lessened, screams and the revving of chain blades could be made out over the din of the slave cattle.

This was no glorious charge into the guns of the enemy the battle was already happening and was drawing to a close. When the first macro cannon exploded the charge faltered and collapsed into uncertainty, the masses stunned into silence as the daemon engines leapt on the stragglers.  When the second cannon detonated the mechanicus beast drivers pulled the engines back and the slave mob stood still totally lost as to what to do.

Yet the Iron warriors where obviously ready for this, a spearhead of rhinos and land raiders made their way up from the rear crushing anything to stunned or stupid to move out of the way. By the time they approached the fortress all fire had ceased and silence reigned within its walls. Coming to a halt by the main gates the Warsmith and his retinue disembarked from the lead land raider and the fortress doors opened to greet him.

Warriors in red stepped out with chain axes in hand, led by the unmistakeable figure of Khârn. Those watching couldn’t hear the initial exchange and the household had made its way forward to stand ahead of their hated brother closer to the gathered marines.

Something was obviously wrong and when Khârn engaged his vox to an open channel it was clear that the bloodshed was far from over.  Across Vox and speaker grill the champion of the blood god condemned the cowardly actions of the Iron warriors, the weakness of the imperial forces and the affront to the blood god.  Blood was needed blood and skulls, only then would the lord of the brass tower look upon this world with anything beyond contempt.

The bloody champion raised his axe in a salute to the sky before burring it deep into the warsmiths face. For a moment nothing happened, silence rang across the field as even the daemon engines stopped momentarily at the actions of the berserker. Yet it was but a moment, a fraction of a second before warriors of the twelfth legion charged. Explosions rang out as blasting charges shattered the walls and more crimson warriors launch into both flanks from the beaches.

With the words of the betrayer ringing through his mind visions of greatness and glory swam before him, Proditor they had called him then Proditor he would be. No more scraps, no more chaff, glory or death was all that mattered. 

Blood for the Blood god

Seconds later and the engine of war had closed the gap to the household’s matriarch blood and oil pumping round the symbiont of man and machine as rage fuelled the vengeful strike.
Powerfield crackling with a storm of lightning the thunderstrike gauntlet tore the reactor clean from the Matriarch’s spine and launching it at her second with a volley of melta fire.

Attacked from behind the pair stood no chance, the matriarch’s steed collapsed lifeless while her reactor detonated on target, of the Baron nothing remained beyond the smoking fragments that slaughtered Iron warrior and slaves alike.

Such a sudden loss of the household’s command left the remaining pair faltering unsure where to focus before with screams of daemonic rage and hate the warp cursed experiments broke free and rampaged.

Absolute chaos erupted; with Berserkers on all sides, the hordes of slaves and chaff everywhere and daemon engines running riot the forces of the Iron warriors resorted to simple self-preservation.

Proditor warhorn shrieking praises to the blood god leapt onto the smoking ruin of the Matriarch’s steed as a stepping stone to fresh kills. Launching from the platform at the back of a rapidly retreating landraider gauntlet smashing clean through the engine, the raging warmachine once more used his kill as a missile crushing a rhino desperately trying to manoeuvre away from the rushing Berserkers.  Surviving passengers tried to scrabble free of the wreckage only to be met by rage incarnate, chain blade scything the warmachine scooped up the Iron warriors it his gauntlet crushing them over his carapace and anointing the engine in the gene rich blood.

Blood flowed, ripping through slaves, cannon fodder and Iron warriors alike and with equal ease nothing could stand the wrath of Proditor unleashed. With little sport in the running and screaming humans the war machine turned its attention to a pack of daemon engines. Charging them head on smashing and cutting warp infused flesh and steel.

As the last of the daemons crashed to the ground the pilot took stock of his surroundings, the battle field was awash with blood and ruin, the Berserkers where slaughtering everything that remained with only small groups of retreating Iron warriors as any resistance.  Blood hungry eyes searched the data feeds and screens for a worthy foe, 400 meters to the west a remaining member of the household battled a pack of quadrupedal engines of destruction with clawing fists and tentacles writhing from their flanks. It was clear the Errant was finished, metallic tentacles grasped from all sides while claw and fist ripped armour and cables. It had moments left at best.

Irritated at the lack of sport a searching for more the ground nearby erupted in a pillar of flame and debris before a second shell pummelled into the carapace and pauldron of the steed’s right hand side.

Swinging round and redirecting the Iron shield to the fore the warrior faced the last remaining household member. A paladin of insignificant rank it had survived the centuries by hanging onto Proditor’s tail and claiming his glory. Rage boiled and the blood god’s latest follower charged, Iron shield flared as the paladin fired again and again. Standing over the ruin of its matriarch the last remaining member of a forgotten household finally grew a spine before death took it.

The paladin like so many before it simply could not stand up to the rage incarnate unleashed so raw and fresh. Blocking blade on blade the one on known as Proditor pummelled the paladin’s face plate with its gauntlet. Staggering back the paladin desperately tried to bring the battle cannon to bear but was simply to slow. Swatting the cannon aside with fist the warrior of blood rammed his blade into the others chest, tearing it out through the top of the carapace bisecting the pilot in the process and showering the field with blood, oil and plasma.

The battle was over stepping back from the fight and allowing it’s hatred to cool the pilot once again took stock of the field. Something on the edge of conciseness brought his attention to focus, there before him stood Khârn, gorechild in hand.  At his feet the smoking ruin of the Matriarch’s steed lay dented and broken. A moment of destiny perhaps, leaning down and ripping the carapace and hatch open revealed the half dead and wounded pilot, coughing up blood. With a skill and care hardly imaginable for such a massive war machine the leader of the household was ripped from her steed and thrown half dead at Khârn’s feet where gorechild unceremoniously took her skull for Khorn’s throne. Mirroring the blood champion’s actions the warmachine hacked the head off the knight’s wreckage before the two turn and go in search of the last prey. Exchange complete a mighty blaze enveloped the knight’s ruined pauldron and the rune of Khorne blazed brightly the dedication complete.

The seven blessed twitched in his throne and the images reseeded, after the battle he had claimed the best of the household’s Sacristans and ship and joined Khârn’s rampage across the eye of terror and beyond.  Years passed; lesser battles and slaughters flickered in his mind, Shadows of time between wars were dull and grey as the bonding ritual continued.

 

The First Blessing

Hours passed, blood soaked oils where applied to pistons and joints, greases rendered from a thousand dead, payers to the machine god and the dark powers carried on without further incident. The beast sat in its throne bonding with machine, mane of shaggy fur matted with sacred unguents distilled from blood and ash.

The fire of the soul forge stoked and weapons systems stirred as they awoke the mighty chainblade humming to life as flesh, bone, metal and machine found sustenance from reconnected power conduits.

With the waking of the blade more images crossed the eyelids of the pilot, grey and dead a warp travel centuries after his dedication to the blood god. Khârn and his band had separated and a new lord offering riches and glory to those who would follow him out into the galaxy. 

The images sharpened as the great steed’s machine spirit was slowly waking, a bonding ritual much like this and focus on a chronometer. Over 6000 years ago the dial read for the first time 888 and little was the pilot and machine back then aware of just how much that year would mean.

Time passed and a landing had been made yet something had clearly been on the planet first, signs of war and ruin filled the landscape far beyond that suggested by orbital scans.

Approaching the world from the shadow of its twin moons there was very little sign of orbital defences, nothing but orbital scrap and the aftereffect of battle. If it wasn’t for the mass of life signs around the southern continent the fleet would have turned and moved on.

Thick clouds of black ash and smoke clogged the skies and great scar rent the world’s surface, what at first had been declared by the chaos lord’s Demagogues a disaster sent by the gods, to prepare the world for the taking proved far more troublesome. But with a nuclear winter blocking detailed analysis the Traitor forces made their landing.

The cause of the planet’s strife was soon made clear and the Gods of chaos had no part to play. Much like the rest of the galaxy at this time Xenos filth had overrun the imperial defenders, greenskins crashed a great hulk into the world and disgorging huge numbers onto the defenders. Instead of landing amongst tattered remnants of the population the chaos forces found themselves dropping into the mist of reinforcement lines and stragglers leaving the wreckage in the north and heading south to new warzones.

While portions of the lord’s fleet abandoned the planet the followers of the Blood god and many more relished a fresh challenge and chance for real war. Having made a landing in the ruined northern continent the chaos forces quickly reacted to the unexpected foe and fell on the Orkish rabble.

Green blood flowed and the slaughter began as the Ork reinforcements and scavenging stragglers fell back. With a landing point made forces of the Dark Mechanicus headed north to cut off any remaining Orks and claim the wreckage of the Hulk for the secrets it might hold. The rest of the force headed south towards the main Ork strength, driving the stragglers before them.

Yet for the Orks the news of a fight worth getting involved in spread quickly and with each mile south resistance grew. In the mountains separating the north and south continents the Chaos numbers where no longer such an advantage over the Ork stragglers and resistance grew as more of the greenskins stood and fought. While the Chaos force slowed the Xenos forces grew to a hoard and the challenge so long sort by the followers of Khorne presented itself.

The half human beast sat in its throne and shivered as memory spikes grew sharper and less grey once more, images of bloodshed and slaughter heightened his senses and drew the attention of the awakening steed. It would be some time yet but the ritual was fully underway and the pair could not be separated once more without a great deal of bloodletting and murder.

With mental images flickering together and overlapping it did not matter how progress had gone, the earlier losses or kills are irrelevant as the memories flowed towards the one point of importance.

Canyons and mountain passes became the great equaliser as bottlenecks became meat grinders and the scale of slaughter weakening the barriers between reality and the warp. As the followers of the blood god pressed on signs that they were being watched became more apparent, a storm gathered blackening the sky, thunder beat almost constantly like a heartbeat as lightning arced, blood rains and hail of splintered bone fell down on the blighted world. Yet the blood god and his minions are fickle the stalemate drew on and Orks are cunning, seeing the fight come to them and having fed the most eager boyz to the grinder the Orks began digging in and fortifying the mountain paths blockading them with walkers of all sizes while dakka obsessed lootas and tank hunters rained fire down from above.

Memories of blood and failure flooded the throne bound pilot as the battle played out, attacks repulsed and sorties denied as the images sharpened further focusing on a single canyon. Guarded by a massive Ork stompa and crazed orks swarming the high ground the canyon had seen thousands of cultists and renegades slaughtered. The corpses of two world eater warbands littered the rocky floor among the remains of mortals and wreckage of once proud vehicles.    

Yet the orkish success would also lead to their downfall, baying a jeering the greenskins watched a blood red knight bedecked in chains and the symbols of the blood god approached the entrance to the killing grounds. The ground trembled as the knight began its charge, reaching out it grabbed a ruined Leamon russ by a broken barrel and hurled, following it with the carcass of a once proud rhino the Ork infested canyon walls shook as tonnes of ceramite and steel crashed into the rock collapsing crude fortifications and causing a rockslide on those below.

The stompa’s main gun boomed, firing wide the massive shell missed its mark the blast obliterated a hoard of cultists and mortal blood warriors that had dared to follow in the Kornate war machine’s wake. Another battle tank pummelled the surrounding rock to dust and mobs of Orks died amongst the rubble. Reloading a firing again the stompa this time landing the shell short, Iron shield flaring the Knight staggered in its charge.

Grabbing the turret of a ruined chimera with chain blade revving, steal screamed as the transport was cut in half lengthways. Holding the wreckage up as a shield the knight continued its charge towards the Ork line. With the bombardment of wreckage stopped mobs of Ork tank hunters flocked to take down the oncoming walker and rokkits screamed down the ravine. Smashing into the carried tank wreak and flaring against the Iron shield they couldn’t halt the screaming death approaching them as its war horn blurted praises to the blood god.

Giving up on the cannon and orkish aim the stompa began to move, building up speed to a collision of titanic proportions. Seeing his opponents challenge the knight discarded the smoking remains of the improvised shield, launching it at the frantic Tank hunters crushing several and bringing rocks down on the rest.

Speed building the stomper began its charge the chasm shook as the two engines of war covered the ground between them. Chainblades screamed as they clashed the knight blocking the clumsy thrusts and swing of the orkish brute. Fineness and skill vs brute force and resilience the follower of khorne was under no illusion as to the damage the ork walker could cause.

Yet the canyon was not wide enough to get round behind the xenos construct forcing a head to head confrontation. Both machines blasted away with support weapons, melta gun and fist tearing apart the stompa’s front armour while chain blades struck and parried. Both machines misjudged steps or pushed back by their opponents crashed into the chasm walls raining rock and debris down. Yet the battle had to end and in a mighty swing the Orkish brutality won out shattering the adamantium chainblade of the smaller machine. Rage exploded from the neural interface overwhelming the pilot as the machine spirit reacted to the grievous wound. White hot boiling hate fuelled an uppercut from the thunderstrike gauntlet smashing servos and joints while melta fire finished the task severing the crude close combat weapon that had so devastated the walkers own.

Howling in rage and hate the Knight staggered backwards as rokkits pounded its carapace and shields and the disarmed stompa retreated backwards raising the massive cannon arm intending to finish the bezerk machine. Grabbing for anything in range the Knight launched the wreck of a vanquisher at its opponent just as the stompa’s cannon breach closed. Distant watchers could be forgiven for mistaking the explosion for that of an orbital bombardment as the tanks ammo cooked off, rock ran molten and the walls around the combatants collapsed as a rockslide that eclipsed anything before it began to tumble down.

The devastation wreaked the passage walls and there was no choice but to flee the cascade of rock and boulders.  After a while quite settled and battered and broken the Knight picked itself up to survey the scene and extent of the damage.

The Orks where blocked by a wall of rubble and joints whined and grated as the warmachine made its way back towards the chaos lines the only sign of the stompa was the still spinning chain blade held in the gauntlet fist.

Night fell as mortals and astartes alike came up to plunder the wreckage and survey the canyon ruins. Earth moving machines and tanks with dozer blades works tirelessly to begin clearance of a path, all night small firefights broke out as Ork or chaos forces climbed too high or tried to cross over and around the devastation.    

Dismounting from the damaged machine the pilot surveyed his steed, oil and grease wasn;t to hard to come by but with his Sacristans so far behind the frount lines there was no real choice but add hock repairs and jury rigging. Rage burned through his blood at the denied kill and more than one mortal that night perished because it got in the way of the supplies and tools needed. Using cabling torn from the stompas arm and rough welding the pilot worked through the night binding the orkish blade to the stump of his own shattered weapon and patching holes in armour. By dawn the fighting had grown in intensity both sides having dug pathways through the shattered stone and ruin. Yet the way remained largely blocked until with a crescendo or crashing stone the stompa pushed through breaking free from its tomb of rock and rubble to once again wreak devastation on the chaos forces. Massive cannons and reloaded Supa-Gatler opened up as it broke free pushing forward and forcing the followers of khorne back. More orks surged out from the breach in the collapsed rubble poring fire into the fight with whoops of glee.

From the far end of the canyon the challenge was accepted remounting his stead and plugging in the machine spirit welcomed its pilot ready for revenge and the charge began again.

Bellowing a challenge from its war horn the Knight plunged into the fray indiscriminately cutting down or smashing anything that got between it and its prey. Only the giant mechanic skull would be an offering worthy of this battle and the knight had no intention of letting anything else claim the prize.

The Stompa saw the knight coming and opened up with everything it could devastation rained as the orkish marksmanship hit nearly everying but the knight. Yet under the weight of fire hits where inevitable and the iron shield was pushed to its limits before shorting out with a loud bang. Carapace and pauldron armour took the brunt of the assault  as the gap was closed with the stompa desperately back peddling to escape the raging machine while the stump of the massive chopper are waved ineffectually.

Locked under rock the stompa had little time to repair and even less access to the worst damaged areas, simple reloads of the rear hoppers had been possible but even that had its limits as the gatler stuttered and ran out of ammo. Armour smoking and dented the knight kept coming leaping onto the ruin of the stompa’s front and grasping the shoulder armour with its gauntlet while plunging the stolen blade onto the chest plate of the stricken foe.

Three times the blade struck severing armour, servos and framework before the knight let go of the shoulder and tore the mechanical idol’s head clean off crushing through the faceplate in its grip and the pilot inside. Black green blood spurted and ran down, anointing the ruined engine with the life fluids of its pilot and creator, lighting shattered the mountains and a black rain poured from the heavens. With the final obstacle to the plains overcome Khorne looked on pleased as daemons clambered out of the muck and swelling pools of raining blood.

Drenched in the blessing of the blood god, bone and warp fused Sinew burst from the ruined jury-rigged blade binding the ork weapon in place within the jaws of a raging daemon.  With the victory at the pass the forces of chaos flooded out and pressed onto the plains, sweeping round behind the other passes and opening way for more of the blood gods followers. The Knight pressed on into a walker force of the orkish meks, smashing through metal and flesh with equal ease surrounded by daemons of the blood god and cultist forces chanted its glory dubbing the title of the iron butcher in there feverish chants.

 

Edited February 15, 2017 by Mechanist

[Vairocanum]

That was a fun read, looking forward to more!

[Mechanist]

thanks Vairocanum I know it's got pretty long at this point and is due to get longer.

I've already got the first 3 parts sorted in full beyond some slight editing which covers

Fall to chaos

Problem with coms system leading to a Scrap code infestation and betrayal of his original house during the horus heresy slagutering them all from behind and opening the gates for traitor forces.

Receiving the Mark of Khorne

after seeing Karn the betrayer falling on the supposed Iron warrior allies after the intended battle was to easy the Knight turns on his adopted household how'ed been treating him like cannon fodder. in a gesture to Khârn declares dedication to Khorne and receives the mark.

1st Blessing

Breaks a stalemate with ork forces and after heavy damage and a brief respite manages to destroy a stompa leading to free roam for the chaos forces to break out of a mountainous region and slaughter in the name of Khorne.

1st blessing takes the form of a daemonic infused chain blade.

Now all of those can be read in full above and I'd love to hear more feedback. The next 6 blessings are supposed to have rewards that are represented on the model in some form. I've sketched out the rough outline of a couple but have a fair few blanks I'm happy to chat about.

Blessing 2

Slaughters the population a hive city after landing on the orbital promethean refinery and emptying the contents into the spire top, via the docks and ship refuelling lines. Burned for days as the population that could fled into the sieging force’s guns.

As the screams of the dying carry on burnt and bloody skulls push their way out from the armour plates of the knight as Khorn is pleased by the slaughter.

Blessing 3

Fist mutation

Blessing 4

Mane and horns for the pilot that would later be the face of the daemon engine

Possibly involving a boarding action against the Iron butcher's ship and pilot outside of the knight, using a loader or the smaller pit fighting machines used as a prelude to becoming a full fledged Knight.

Blessing 5

Low on parts and in need of a refit the 7 blessed visits a daemon forge within the eye. Refused access to the forges the pilot mounts up and storms the gates of one forge. Due to bitter rivalries between the forge masters the forge is then attacked by adjacent members of the dark mechanicus. Breaking through to the heart of the forge the 7 blessed rounds up not only the leaders of the attacked forge but also the so called victorious invaders and feeds them to the forge fires. Leaderless his Sacristans seize control of all three mechanicus forces and for 100 days and nights a significant portion of the local population, great and small is rounded up and fed to the fires. The Sacristans use the daemon forge to refurbish the reactor on the Knight suit and with the world torn apart by war as the slave automata and warmachines of the conquered are set to kill protocols when the 7 blessed and his ship leave the system.

Pleased at the ongoing slaughter Khorn once again blesses the Knight and its new reactor as it mutates to replace soul blackened steal with warp fused flesh and bone. While the exhaust stacks scream as the souls within suffer eternal torture.

Blessing 6

Blessing 7

Crown of claws

with all the blessings described the culmination of the plot will be how it became to be a daemon knight and while granted daemon princedom it got trapped inside the Knight shell before joining the Black ruin.

and lastly I promised a hint at what's next for the modeling side.

Plan is to start attaching them this evening and should be able to get to some sculpting tomorrow.
Now that does depend on what happens after dinner, if it ends up as another evening of drinking and light debauchery in dubious Korean bars then I'll be dying tomorrow. If however I don't really survive today on the ship after last night's evening of drinking and light debauchery (hangover's slowing coming on right now) I'll get an early one and have all day tomorrow not horribly hung over.

[Pyroclast91]

Absolutely amazing work man not only are you In the middle of one of the coolest knight conversions I've ever seen but you've managed some quite impressive fluff which definitely left me wanting more keep up the awesome work man.

[Mechanist]

Thank you. there should definitely be more to come, I've managed a small greenstuff batch or two today and waiting on that to harden. Having glued the legs on there is a lot less that needs doing than I expected. Especially on the leg that already has a fair bit of sculpting already done, I foresee many tiny batches in the coming week before returning to england on saturday.  

[KrautScientist]

I feel kinda guilty now for not having commented on the assembled Knight sooner, so let me just chime in and say that the conversion works so well now, especially with the tweaked leg pose! Absolutely amazing work, mate! :)

[Mechanist]

well work has begun on taking the next step with the legs.

I've had the odd raptor/bird like pelvis setup from the dino bone bits and they just didn't quite work so I began looking once again at bone structure and the two loops/holes in the front of a human pelvis is fairly iconic for our upright structure.

So this happened.

Some slight rough joining together and I've got attachement points for banner chains etc. All well and good you might say, the problem is I keep getting this into my head as I look at it.

Now overlapping the 'teeth' with the banner attachments would probably be cool, though as you can see the chest piece I'm concerned I may end up a little OT?

The real problem is the angle of the bones,

The angel is far to low and in this picture almost mirrors the typical Ork boyz legs with wide hips and low crotch.

Now perspective make it look more stunty legged than in real life and a better angle the legs are fine.

and shows how hanging a banner of the lower edge may not work out properly.
I think I;ve made my mind up to remove the bones from the front and re angle them, use a couple of pins and try my damnedest to have the pieces stay separable untill painted. I just need the latest layer of greenstuff to harden.

What do people think? would an extra mark of Khorne be too much or make the perfect crotch armour and banner top?

[KrautScientist]

I really like the idea of using pelvic bones like that! Personally speaking, I think they are looking just fine -- after all, it's a mutated biomechanical monstrosity we are talking about here, so what's a misaligned bone or two, eh? That being said, if the element really bothers you as is, I'd say fix it, because so far you have managed to win me over with each of your tweaks, even when I thought the original version was already good enough.

 

However, I do have my reservations about seeing a banner between the model's legs: That's a visual element that makes lots of sense for less mutated Knights, but I somehow feel like it would seem a bit silly on this model, and arguably cheapen the rest of the composition. I am not saying that you cannot make it work -- I'd just exercise a bit of caution and maybe not plan the entire leg assembly around an element that might end up feeling superfluous altogether.

[Sagentus]

this model is really coming together and looks awesome. Blessing 5 was very well written, showing that khorne will happily take the skulls of anyone :) 

[Teetengee]

Yeah, I'm not sure how a banner would really fit there. A loincloth type thing though could grow out of that concept, although adding clothes might feel weird for other reasons.

As for the mark of khorne, why not just extend the bone out to look like a mark of khorne had grown there?

[lionofjudah]

I see a bunch of chains dangling hellraiser style with hooks and morning stars instead of a loin cloth

[Mechanist]

Thanks guysnsome great feedback and definitely food for thought. I'll take a look this evening and think I'll separate it and look at positioning options since a separate part will be easier to work on anyway, I'm struggling to get the sculpting tools in round the body as it is.

I'll look to pin it in a way that I can have ripped flesh round the point of attachment and hopefully be able to hold off glueing untill it's painted.

[Eldrick Shadowblade]

if you want a banner, maybe post one flying from the spine on top,? I probably would have called this model finished a while ago, but i love your obsessiveness to make it even cooler!

[Mechanist]

Close up there are plenty of areas that have been damaged in cutting or reposing so need at least a clean up. Also weapons are barely touched so plenty more there even if I just blended in the co version bits.

[hushrong]

Happy to see more of your knight!

[Mechanist]

Thanks it's slowly getting there. I just discovered the assignment I've been putting off looking at (because of another assignment and stuff) if around the 5000 words mark and due in on the 3rd march, so don't be surprised when this goes quiet for a week.

Right now I've removed the crotch plate and am gently shaping the attachment points in such a way that I'll be able to keep it separate till after painting, worth the extra bit of hassle now just to be able to fit the sculpting tool round in the coming days and then a paint brush for the crotch hips and cabling.

Going to go with a mark of Khorne there probably beaten copper like the braziers nailed in place with some chains hanging down maybe with a skull or two to finish.