Beneath Terra - Inquisimunda & the XIth Legion

[Dagoth Ur]

Act V: A Friend
 
"Alexei Naudrić, Lord-Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus and loyal servant to the God-Emperor for almost six centuries. A man of great power and even greater influence, well, until he disappeared into the Terran Catacombs. One of his pupils, Inquisitor Laurenz, has been looking after his estate for the past seventy years, until anouncing that he plans upon venturing down the same path as his mentor. Screening of the estate planned, keep an eye out for indicators of radical tendencies, as Lord Alexei has been known as a mutant-sympathizer for quite some time."
 
                                                                                                      -Report on Alexei's disappearance, Line 1138, scroll No.12
 
"An old friend you shall find. Beneath the colossal steeples of gods and machines he awaits, betwixt the history of ancient realms and heros he studies. There lies a heartbeat beneath his skin, though not his own. A body rebuilt, clad in the brass and iron of the Ancients, yet his spirit is torn in two, between what he wants and what he must do. He is who you must seek. Search his infernal soul, for he is the gate to the hidden man within."
 
                                                                                                      -Ivanka, rocking herself to sleep
 
"He has told me much about you, Laurenz. He likes you, he trusts you. A rare gift. We shall see if you deserve that. The Man of the Withered Rose bested me sixty years ago, earning my pledge of honour and my loyalty. Never have I seen an ordinary man fight like that. His mind was as sharp as a razor, his iron claw dull in comparison. I admire him. It has been more than ten millenia since I've done that."
 
                                                                                                                  -The Iudex, leading the party to the Archive

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"Ah Iudex, you bring guests I see. Oh my, and just what kind of guests!"

 

Alexei. Lord-Inquisitor Alexei Naudrić, the Lord of the Withered Rose. Emperor upon his throne damn me, I knew he was still alive. Nothing could have killed this Y'g Slavian bastard. I have seen him slit a Waaaghboss' throat in combat, slay champions of chaos and even kill three whole Slaughts before retreating. Tough as dirt. I am immensely happy to see this man, but also concerned. There have been rumours of Alexei slipping into radical mindsets for quite some time. Now I find him down here in an ancient library, sitting upon a dais, like some kind of king, pouring over mountains of tomes.

He welcomes me with open arms, as hospitable as he always was, though I still cannot decipher what he thinks. He has always been a mysterium to to me, his cunning eyes never betrayed his thoughts and his smile always seemed genuine and sincere. Alas, such is the nature of us Inquisitors I suppose.

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"I knew you would come Laurenz. I have left Ivanka back at the Trench for you to find. I knew you couldn't resist a secret involving the legions of yore and an alpha-plus prophet."

 

Alexei was a man who loved art and visual opulence. His estate is littered with baroque paintings and a dozen craftsmen toil day and night to produce beautiful armour, weapons and trinkets. While some might find that idiotic, and even dangerous, anyone who has had the chance to speak to Alexei can attest, that he would never let his passion compromise his effectivity. Even his right hand has become a weapon, fashioned out of gold and adamantium and encrusted in filigree artwork, yes, yet just as deadly as any other weapon. I have seen him rip out the heart of an Iron Warrior during the cleansing of Erteban II. The original hand was lost to a demonhost, obliterated by felfire. The host didn't fare much better, as Alexei banished the demon back into the Netherrealm. A strong psyker he is, even capable of unmaking lesser ethereal essences with the help of a locus of power.

But I digress. Alexei speaks to me of his research. He has met the Lost One, the fabled Astartes that we search. Alexei refuses to tell me how he found him and what exactly transpired, but he shares with me a much deeper knowledge. He tells me that the Endtimes are coming. The prophecied last battle, to either save or break mankind. I want to alarm the Ordos, to investigate if there is any truth to such a statement but he forbids it. Alexei says that the Ordos know, but they chose to turn a blind eye to the truth, rather clinging to age-old dogma. The truth, he says, is a burden best shouldered by a few men.

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"Great changes are to come my friend. A realm will fall, another one will rise. We are here to prepare the comming of the First Sinner, the return of the first son to be banished. The once-King of Fire, now Lord of Cinders is about to return from his exile to the void."

 

Alexei speaks in riddles. There is this unsettling determination in his eyes, it sends shivers down my spine. Apparently he has been piecing together the story of the XI^th legion for the past sixty years, yet he has just a few passages and old-folk tales. Under normal circumstances I would have to shoot him, but he has seen a living member of the XI^th and I still hope for some kind of truth and logic behind all of this. Alexei does not seem to be corrupted, all of his wards are still functioning and not radiating any kind of tainted energy. To be quite frank, I do not know what to say or write, dear reader. Everything is just so convoluted and I fail to understand a thing my friend tells me. One of Alexei's books had an interesting passage, perhaps that might pique your interest.

 

Once the darkness from beyond rises, nourishing the red path's growth,

and the Sisters of Solace commence their singing.

Once all journeys are lost to memory and even death refuses to offer peace

The mourning bells shall crack from their restless ringing.

When all threatens to fade into the abysmal maw that oblivion is

The decrepit eye shall open and release a torrent of madness.

When even the dead Wolf returns to wage his last and final war

and the Firstborn rises to wield his sword once again.

When His holy fire has almost faded and His final sigh threatens to be drawn

Only then shall the First Sinner return and forgive.

Only then shall the War of Wars be fought.

 

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

 

Evening ladies and gents, I return once more for a daily upload!

 

@Kizzdougs: Thanks for the advice! I'll be sure to try out some sandpaper, infact, I should have some wet-sandpaper lying around somewhere...

 

@The Psycho: Go for it, the Slaughterpriest is one of the best things GW has given us in the past few years. To me, he is the new Nurgle-Lord really. Glad you enjoy my stuff that much and don't worry, we are slowly building towards a monumental final-hour event :)

 

@Bjorn Firewalker: Thanks mate! :)

 

@Kurama: Oh boy, if you only knew whats still up to come... Y'know what? Let me spoiler you some stuff: A mechanic butler/mech-gladiator/guard-servitor hybrid, a machine sage dating from pre imperial terra based upon one of the Iron Circle Domitars (Yeah, that one is gonna be a huge one!) and a Paragon of the XIth legion based upon the Alexis Polux figure made by FW. Let's see where this madness goes!! :D

 

So anyways folks, I am slowly preparing some more fluff and I still have to wait until I get my ETL stuff (Hint Hint: What is red, likes Big-E and spanks you harder than Muhammed Ali when on the charge?) and ontop of that, my two exam weeks are starting as of today, so wish me luck with that. But there will be some paint? I've already started on Patch, so stay tuned! :)

 

Have a nice time!

 

@

[Bjorn Firewalker]

The photographic lighting is appropriate for the mood you're setting, but they unfortunately blur some details. Is Alexei really as youthful as he appears in these photos, or is he wearing a mask?

[GhostMalone]

I'm aroused and amazed so carry on brother

[Dagoth Ur]

Act VI: The Servant

"Y'know, sometimes I ask meself if this thing has been intended to be a servant. It has a flippin' pair of machine guns, for cryin' out loud! It does make a mean engine-oil shake though..."
 
                                                     -Patch, talking in private to Laurenz
 
"Madness. It was madness. The sound of guns and meat being torn apart, while veryone was screaming. It killed my three companions without breaking a sweat. All the while politely asking us to 'vacate the premises'."
 
                                                     -Janek, crippled tombraider
 
*It's weird, honestly. Such an effective murder-machine that would make any priest of the mechanicus proud, yet it is content with serving drinks and conversing."
 
                                                    -Laurenz, personal note

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-05-202019.16.48_zpsyj3tpc54.jpg

 

"Would you like some hot leaf soup, sire?"

 

"You mean tea?"

 

"Saving personalised terminology, please stand by."

 

Amazing. Alexei's personal retinue is a trove of rare and wonderous creatures. The battle-servitor XU-22, or Albus as the rest calls him, has been heavily modified through the ages, it appears. The heavy machine gun at his side is loaded with massive slugs and I have seen it tear a sub-terranean lion into bits and pieces. The arm-mounted gun has been taken from a deimos-pattern rhino, from as far as I can tell, and mounted onto the machine. The vast array of sensory units is also quite amazing. Through echo-location Albus is capable of analyzing terrain for several hundret paces in all directions and his constantly sniffing tubes detect anything even remotely resembling noxious fumes in the air. What is quite amusing, is his main programing routine, which would actually make him a servile machine. By chance, I must ask Alexei who managed to mesh these two routines with one another on such a subtle level.

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"Sire, I detect that you have sullied your cloak again."

 

What I can asume, is that this servitor was not built by anyone who has ties to the Adeptus Mechanicus. It resembles nothing I have ever seen. I see parts of a Ruststalker and a Myrmidon, both holy mechanical entities that would have never been slaved to one another. The Mechanicus does not create new out of old, they only recycle the old body into a new copy. I am not even sure if this thing could be a product of the long-gone Mechanicum, as even they did not dare to misuse the holy Astartes' armoury.

What I think, and even hope, is that Albus is a product of a mind that has existed even before the Unification, someone who has qualities that the machine-cult lacks. Alexei did mention that he wanted to introduce me to some kind of tech-savant. Maybe it is him?

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-05-202019.14.38_zpsebriwmqp.jpg

 

"It would be a shame, if I had to shoot you, bandit. Please leave."

 

"You flippin' wh-"

 

"BLAM!"

 

At first, I was taken aback by Albus' reactivity. He was capable of conversing on a quite individual level and even construct personalised questions. I was afraid that Alexei had awoken one of the blood-drenched remnants of AI, that could have survived the Dark Ages. He dispelled this fear quite quickly, by demonstrating me, that this thing is just quite a sophisticated servitor with very precise thought-routines implanted into its brain. Such augmentation isn't all that rare in the higher social circles, he says. I must have never bothered to ask such servitors anything, I think. Alexei even demonstrated the constraints of the machine's brain by asking it, what it thought of divinity. Albus only responded with "Does not compute with current knowledge. Please elaborate." Quite a jolly fellow. Let's hope he does not die to quickly.

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

 

Hello friends!

 

Today I bring you the promised killer-butler. To be honest, I didn't even intend on building him but I just saw some parts and this mad epiphany struck me that i could build something really crazy out of it.

Anyways, there is really not much to say to him. Hope you like Albus!

 

@Bjorn Firewalker: Thanks.^^Yes, the overlit black and white was chosen because it resembles these very old and ancient polaroid shoots, which is how I imagine servo-skull picts to be. The face looks actually like someone in their 40s, it's Sevatars head from forgeworld. I even thought about sculpting a nice beard...hmmm let's see.... He does not wear a mask, but who knows, rejuvenant technology does wonders, I've heard.

 

@Kurama: Giving my best, mate!

Edited May 25, 2016 by The Observer

[GhostMalone]

Stahp it! All of it!

 

It's just too brilliant buddy

[GrandMagnus]

Oh man, I really enjoyed reading that. "You flipping wha..." Kind of reminds me of the Mr. Handy from fallout. Polite, but deadly.

Edited May 25, 2016 by GrandMagnus

[Dagoth Ur]

Act VII: The Little Hunter
 
" 'S not fair... 's not bloody fair I'm tellin' ya... The rat was mine, mine I say! 't was my dinner and what does the smarmy little bastard do?! He steals it!"
 
                                                                                       -Lahrit, enraged Thief
 
"You gotta do what you gotta do, y'know? So fething what if he starves? It's a dog's world an' all that..."
 
                                                                                       -Patch, sitting and eatingthrough his feeding tube
 
"Is he a thief? Undoubtedly. A murderer? Surely. Do I trust him? Absolutely."
 
                                                                                       -Logarach, Gatekeeper of the Red Athenaeum

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"Y'see, I like me some animals, I really do. Nice and cheeky and whatnot. However, and this is the important part mind you, if they trust you, you've got yourself a nice stew on four legs that you don't even have to hunt."

 

Patch has been quite cheerful these days. He has managed to slay quite the score of wild beasts, I am amazed at his proficiency with the rifle. Just yesterday I have seen him smoke out some kind of mechanical ruin (A knight mayhaps?) and shot not one but four of the fleeing rad-flies. The gulash we made that night was still nasty as all hell, but you cannot really be picky down here, now can you?

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/20160612_001757_zpsgbckxpgr.jpg

 

"It's so fething orange here, you'd believe you're either on bloody Mars or on some kind of dusty tangerine! Orange dust in me boots, pants, socks and even lenses! The colour alone prevents me from gettin' the scurvy, I'm tellin' ya!"

 

I have had the chance to inspect Patch's equipment a bit closer. His sword is actually some pattern of Astartes combat-blade. He says he picked it up somewhere in the wasteland and refurbished it. Not that hard to believe, one could probably salvage whole suits of powerarmour from the old battlefields of the Siege. His clothes are heavy fabric, nothing special there, but what is interesting is his skin. What little peeks out from his hands appears to be pretty clean and unmarred. Infact, he only reeks of sweat, not of blood, ichor or other horrid secretions that are so typical for mutants. Perhaps some stable breed of abhuman? One really ought to inspect Terra a bit closer.

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/20160612_001812_zpsu2o6fesr.jpg

 

"I didn't do nuffin' Patch..."

 

"I know pal, I know..."

 

Patch seems to value his servo skull above all other possessions. He cleans it meticulously every single day, like one might clean his silver jewelry. He calls it Lennie or Brother, depending if he is in company or alone. Patch really isn't a man of courage, retreating as soon as he oh so much but senses an implication of trouble, but when it comes to the skull he becomes a protector unlike any other I have ever seen. A few weeks ago he gunned down a whole ganger-mob just because his skull got stuck between cables and could not flee with him.

When asked why he adores that thing so much, he stops talking and mumbles about having his hand forced by the others and that he did the right thing. Hard to say what he means with that but I fear that inquiring more might turn him hostile.

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

 

Hello folks, long time no see!

 

We'll I'm back with some more shoddy pictures (Sigh, wish I had not to joke about it) but oh well. I have some more pictures I'll be uploading tommorrow, among them a fully painted Iudex ;)

 

On a more awesome note, I've exchanged mails with Adam Wier (Yes, the Pilgrym Adam Wier!!!) and have official permission to create a character with ties to the Church of the Red Athenaeum. He and his brethren have taken a peak at this thread of mine and have given me nothing but compliments. Might sound like I am lauding myself, but it's quite the contrary! I am amazed and humbled that one of my greatest Inquisimunda idols took the time to answer my mail, praise my work and even allowed me to take a sliver of his own is honestly one of the greatest moments in my ten years of hobbying.

So, expect something huge coming from that direction folks!

Besides, a primarch is shaping up on my table, an XI floating above him....

 

See ya!

Edited June 12, 2016 by The Observer

[Soldier of Dorn]

Congratulations! I've gotten compliments on some of my things from the Wiers before, and every time they have nothing but thoughtful commentary to give. It's awesome that they think so highly of you work!

 

Patch looks lovely! Beautiful paintjob and background, utterly suited to some strange mutant! I can't help but think there's more to him then meets the eye though...

 

I can't wait to see this Primarch you're working on, too!

[Dagoth Ur]

Act VIII: The Idol's Afterglow
 
"The Great Crusade has long ended, Brother-Chaplain. That war of subjugation has ended, there is nothing more to be conquered. The Horus Heresy too has passed into the realm of myth, a war of fratricide and madness. Now comes the final war. The War of Faith. The war which will see us tested and either broken or remade. I confess, Brother-Chaplain. I confess of having betrayed the Lion of Caliban. I confess drawing my brethren's blood. I confess waging war against the Eleventh's sons."
 
                                                                                                    -Former-Knight Arteom, Fallen Angel
 
"I stare into the Nether and my empty eyes weep. I can see a world of ashes and cinders, wrought in eternal decay, fated to a single soul. The earth cracks, exposing the molten, beating heart of a behemoth, and the vast oceans are neither cold nor warm, but grey and silent, like the coast of old Innsmouth. There lies a great kiln on that world, an anvil upon which one of mankind's greatest kingdoms was forged. It is darkening, the true heir on his great, last exodus, searching for a path to his father. The True Monarch hath returned..."
 
                                                                                                    -Ivanka, after the Dark Sigil struck her
 
"The warp is seething, old friend. I can feel it on my skin and within my bones, like the coming of a storm. Have I ever told you of the Eleventh? They were our greatest. Not like the Angelum Sanguis were the most ferocious fighters or the Rex Noctis the most terrifying weapon, oh no. They truly were the greatest. They were destined to rule, a king each and every one of them. How the great ones have fallen..."
 
                                                                                                    -Ancient Björn, talking to his sleeping Dreadnought-Brethren

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"Listen well, young Laurenz, for now I have a tale to tell you."

 

With these words the Iudex had awoken me. It was deep into the night, no sun or moon shining through the umbilical-tech-cords and tunnels, and no sound was to be heard. WIthout speaking a word, I followed the giant to a heap of bones and ashes, maybe a few inches. Slowly he had squatted down, like the panslavic warriors did when resting from the march of war.

"You have many questions, Laurenz. I and the Man of the Rose understand that. We cannot tell you all, for there is much that even we do not know and even more that we chose to keep hidden from you and from one another. You shall ask no questions, you shan't speak at all, until this tale is concluded. Is this understood?"

Beneath his cowl I could see bright eyes the colour of a glacier, clear and unmarred by time and age. WIth a wave of his hand, the heap of bones and ash caught fire, basking his taut muscles in faint light and casting a deep shimmer over his golden facemask. Was he a psyker? Or a sorceror perhaps? Oh dear Emperor, what lives upon thy world?

I simply nodded, too sleepy to really inquire and, I am ashamed to admit, scared as of what he might do if I did.

"The Astartes you search for. You call him the Lost One, but his true name is Achrim. He is here, standing behind you. Don't turn around for he will kill you. He hates your prying eyes, thinks you don't deserve to know. Achrim has been talking to me and Ivanka. He pities her, wracked by her gifts as she is and for me...well, lets say that he owes me a thing or two."

The second the Iudex had uttered the first few sentences, I tensed up. My back was hard like steel, cramped up, and coated in ice cold sweat. I could feel the thrumming of powerarmour in my teeth. How could I have missed it until now? There was an audible rasp of dirty rebreather membranes, undoubtedly clogged with dirt and grime.

"Listen to this tale very well, Laurenz, for I will only tell it once." The Iudex stared into the flame, peering past the warm red and gold, into something far darker "A tale that has been forgotten, yet never lost. It is the tale of Old Loria, most ancient kiln of souls. Witness as I tell you of the First Sinner's home."

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"It was a world born of the Dark Age, of stone and iron, fire and lightning. It alone circled a small sun, devoid of any planetary siblings. I saw it once, it was encrusted with cathedrals and temples, but not devoted to any gods. Indeed, while it appeared like so many of nowadays shrine worlds, it could not have been more different in nature. They praised the First Sinner as their Lord. Not a god, not a warrior, but a Lord. In turn, he built a world of cities for them, grandeur for the living. A benevolent ruler to his people and valiant protector of peace. Before that, however, there was nothing. It all begun as his birthing-pod slammed into the calcified remnants of an ancient tree, broad like a tower and higher than macropole spires, long before any other of his brethren landed. Indeed, he was the first of his kin to shape a world, while the others were still tied to the whims of the malevolent gods. The people of Loria had taken him in, not wishing a cruel death at the hand of famine or monsters upon this poor child. Furthermore, he was wreathed in holy fire and eternal lightning. Not the simple orange glimmer before us two, or the stark blue sky-wounds you see in the storm. It was fire purer than the birthing screams of Terra, brighter than the greatest inferno and stronger than Nocturne's eruptions. His lightning, so Achrim tells me, was golden, like Lord Dorn's armour. It was as if the sun's rays had taken to war, donning a mantle of barbs and blades, more swift than any arrow and stronger than any hammer. Signs of divine power they were. Divine, yet in the hand of a mortal. You must understand, Loria was devoid of warmth. Fires never burned with heat, no true light nor dark. Thus it was foretold, that one day a Lord shall descend from the heavens and bring either the age of true darkness or eternal light."

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The Iudex fell silent and I noticed that I hadn't blinked in a while. I could hear the snarling servos from behind me as the very air started shifting. The astartes moved into my field of sight. So huge was he, that the light barely reached his helm. His armour was soot-black and etched with gold. His eyes dark pits, focusing on me like the eyes of a hawk. Unnatural heat radiated from him, as his fists clenched and relaxed.

"Thou wishest to know how he hath created his kingdom?" The voice echoed in my mind, rather than in my ears. It was deep and raspy, as if the throat was dry like sand "Thou wishest to understand my father, does thou not? To know how he created a realm worthy of any god from naught but cinders?"

His speech was very archaic, which was unusual, even most of the elder chapters had given up such speech by now, save for curiosities like the Charcharodon Astra.

"I hath been there. A child on my mother's arm, but I hath witnessed the birth of the True Flame." The Astartes slowly circled the flame, fading into the dark with every step he took away from it "The world was soulless. Naught but ash, blood and dead wood. Ruins of past kingdoms, frail ruler's follies, pockmarked Loria, like scars and scabs of ancient wars."

I could only make out his humongous frame against the dark. The cleaver in his hand gathered what little light still existed, shimmering like pure silver.

"Thou wishest to know what my father's sin was?" I slowly nodded "He sundered his very soul and was cast out by the man he was most alike to."

"Who?" I uttered, my neck-hair rising with the tension.

"His father"

The fire went out and left us in utter darkness.

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

 

Good evening everyone!

 

@The Psycho: Thank you very much! There is more to him, just give me some time ;)

 

Here I give you the finished Iudex with some more fluff concerning the Primarch of the Eleventh. Slowly, the concept is finalizing and when it is set in stone, there will definitely be more to Him and Loria. As of now, I can tell you this much: I've read this theory once that every Primarch is a splinter of the Emperor (Horus being Ambition, Corax Duty, Sanguinius Love and Valour etc, you get the point) and the one thing that lacks in my mind, is the Emperor's greatness. Now, I don't mean simple power and wisdom with that, but all that is his soul and sacrifice and regaility.

Soul: We have two official and one inofficial primarch that play heavily into the avatarism of the emperor as a psychic entity. Lorgar is described as a golden figure, both in flesh and spirit, a carbon copy of the emperor's piousness and simplicity in spirit. Then we have Magnus, who is the raw and untamed force of the warp, the destructive tide that destroys worlds. The inofficial primarch, Lord Icarion of the II^nd, is, as far as I understand it, a representation of the more controlled and prophetic aspect of psychic energy. This is why he is the Lightning, a cold and precise knife, applied with maximum force. The First Sinner, however, inherited the fire of his father, and thus his elementar greatness. Lorgar is the golden mirror, Magnus is the defiance of all laws of reality, Icarion (To me, again) is the aloof intellect made manifested through the storm, while the Sinner is the Emperor's regaility, given form through fire. As this theme of regality, fire and splitting of souls will be playing a heavy theme I'd advise looking into VaatyVidya's Dark Souls Lore series, as that is one of the main cornerstones of my Eleventh.

Sacrifice: The second important theme of the Eleventh and the Emperor himself. The whole of 40k is defined through the heresy but also through the Emperor's great sacrifice. The Sinner too commited a great sacrifice for Loria in his days of coronation, but more to that in a few days. Note that the two lost legions have been called "The Lost and the Forgotten" a few times by now. I chose the eleventh to become "The Forgotten", erased from memory perhaps BECAUSE the memory was so painful. We always asume that both legions were destroyed upon the Emperor's command, the Primarchs vowing to never speak of it again. But what if there was no apparent reason to purge the Eleventh, at least to the other primarchs? What if he was not purged at all but died? What if he refused the Emperor? Many questions and we'll see how deep this rabbithole goes...

Heir/Regaility: As said, all primarchs can be interpreted as shards of the Emperor. However, one thing is absent to me, namely the right to rule. 30k and 40k are as much stepped in symbolism as many other fantasy settings, and thus it is perhaps important to note that the Emperor, as a godly, omniscient creature, was truly destined to rule. Now let's imagine he passed that down, creating a perfect heir. Horus tries to take control of the imperium, but he does so out of ambition. Imagine if you had a primarch who does not rule out of ambition but out of right, because he is destined and fated to it. Someone to whom all bow, like they do to the Emperor. What if someone else should have been Warmaster? Someone created to be the Warmaster? Imagine a primarch, greater in soul and character than his siblings because that's what he was destined to be. Not a Lord, but the Lord. This is where I want to go, a legion of exemplars, a primarch-exemplar. Yet for all their glory and regality, their flaws and fall will be all the deeper. But all in due time.

I ramble and ramble and ramble and now I think it's time to sleep.

 

Have a nice day and prepare for some more Inquisimunda stuff!

[Soldier of Dorn]

Awesome! The right to rule is certainly a creative aspect of the Emperor to use, and I can't recall ever seeing a Lost Legions project that has ever used it before for their Primarch, so I eagerly await learning more of this "True Monarch" of the XI Legion.

 

Also, :tu: for the reference to Innsmouth. I'm also a great fan of Lovecraft, and it's just so well suited to 40k.

 

Can't forget about the Iudex. Such a brilliant model and paintjob. I'll probably have to try and replicate that model from you at some point. With your permission, of course. ;)

[Montuhotep]

Wow!

 

 I can't actually say anything else without dissolving into a gibbering wreck of gushing praise (which would make me sound like a complete fool). The thought you have put into the back story is immense and the models, so far as we have seen them, are each pretty close to master pieces in their own right, each filling a little niche.

 

 Okay, must stop babbling incoherently now...

[MordentHex]

i love this fluff! it's rich and engaging. If you don't mind i would love to use some of it to flesh out the 11th legion in my alternative heresy project.

[Dagoth Ur]

Act IX: The Last Witness

 

"You know of Malcador, don't you? Of course you do, who am I asking this. The Sigillite used to be His closest advisor, the one whom He trusted most of all. A distant relative of His grace, mayhaps, or just an ordinary human held alive by His will. Who is to know honestly? Who can say where myth ends and truth begins? But alas, the metaphysical nature of the Sigillite is not what I wish to discuss with you. I wish to tell you of one of His many other advisors."

 

                                                                       -Lord-Inquisitor Alexei to Laurenz

 

"He saw, oh gracious Lord, he saw! He saw the awakening of the abyss! As the gates of primeval man's heart opened, he saw you gaze into the pit. The vile and eldritch darkness crept into your once-fair soul, yet you did not break. A hidden sliver of the once-ether, a calm ocean, unmarred by hate and lust, war and excess, stasis and change, despair and hope. A deep and dark sea, hidden away on that most ancient of worlds. The Man of iron and brass and bone saw you, hallowed Lord, uniting light and dark within your heart. He saw you for what you truly are. The Heir-to-come. Wake from thine sleep again, oh gracious Lord, come and reignite your father's hope!"

 

                                                                       -Ivanka, screaming into the night while skinning her face

 

"I miss him. By all that is good and right in this galaxy, I miss him. My brother, what has happened to you? What changed in your heart that you undertook a pilgrimage into the outer darkness? And Father does nothing... Did he perhaps will it? Did he exile you? We all weep for you. Even Angron's eyes are tainted by loss, one more hole of loss punched into his knotted heart. Wherever you are, Lord of Cinders, whatever fate you must follow, we dearly miss you. We dearly miss you and we regret the war that has broken out between you and us. Still I search, through endless tides, yet I cannot feel your heart. Magnus is blind to your soul, saying that it has simply vanished. Dearest brother, where art thou?"

 

                                                                      -Lord Sanguinius, Personal Diary found in the Errant's Library, stained by tears

 

Alexei and the Iudex have told me much and shown me even more. They speak to me of a primarch unrivalled and unparalleled by any other. His heart as pure as Sanguinius', his arm as swift as the Khan's and his mind sharper than Ferrus' and Lord Guilliman's both. Yet, for all his grandeur, he was not envied, but praised and beloved by his brethren. His spirit could mend broken bones and gnawed flesh, while he could burn away whole cities in his rage and tear down Scout-Titans with his spears of lightning. Two sides of a coin, united in one: deific benevolence and apocalyptic wrath. Alexei told me of how he was found, how this dusty Old-Loria had been brought into imperial fold. A curious story, really, dear reader. Let me recount to you what I could learn, for you will find it of great interest I believe.

All primarchs, save for the Red Angel, had grown to become masters of their worlds, molding culture and society to their ideals. All of them where challenged by the Emperor in honourful combat or in witty bets and all of them would fail to overcome the visitor clad in gold. Not so the Sinner. Loria, his homeworld, was discovered by an expedition fleet of the Space Wolves, led by Lord Russ himself. A black world of ashes and grey oceans swirled before them, slowly spinning around a dead star in its celestial ballett. Russ and his army had made planetfall after discovering several hubs of, what appeared to be, feudalistic techno-barbarians, quite reminiscent of pre-unification Terra. What they found, was astonishing.

A world encrusted with gothic cathedral-cities, previously obscured by thick clouds and ash-storms. Ancient, petrified trees grew towards the sky, penetrating the atmosphere like needles. Landing on what would later become the Fields of Reckoning, Russ gazed upon a citadel of ancient iron and thick marble, void-shield nodules covering its walls like pockmarks. Every inch was covered in carvings and archways. Stone dragons and flames wound themselves several dozens of metres into the air with rubies and red marble glowing in the pale light of their dead star. Great, bronze bells toiled all across the globe, reminding Russ eerily of the Bells of Mourning back on Terra. On the high walls, he could make out soldiers clad in black armour, armed with great swords and spears of pitted metal and buzzing powerfields. They were crude, yet elegant in a more feral way. Their iron hide was immaculate, a dark reflection of the Emperor's Custodes, though not as tall or broad. In their middle stood a creature unlike the others. A man, akin to Russ himself, with long hair and a grizzled beard. The man, who Russ understood to be some kind of king, wore robes of faded black and golden chainmail, clasping a two-hander in his one hand, while pointing the other at the Wolf-King.

"Who art thou and what is thine wish?" The voice had echoed across the vale, yet he was not shouting, rather whispering like a faint flame.

Russ, fierce and untempered as he was in the early Great Crusade, decided to forgo any kind of diplomatic approach and storm this bastion of techno-barbarism, eager to taste the blood of conquest on his tongue. Alexei speculates that what was to follow would be one of the chief reasons as to why Russ suddenly took on a more tempered and noble side to his character in the early Great Crusade.

The instant he had drawn his sword and axe and his sons had followed him into battle, he had smelled ozone. Yet there was no storm. The foreign king held his free hand aloof, light and sparks gathering around it. His vasalls mimicked the gesture to similar effect, albeit not as strong or fierce. The Wolves had crossed two thirds of the field, then death hailed from the sky in tides of gold. Lightning bolts, like javelins of old, stripped the Astartes bare, crushing ceramite and bursting flesh wherever they cast their auric tips. In a matter of seconds, the assault was broken and crippled. Russ reeled, snarling at the witch, for what natural human could wield such power?

The citadel's gate opened and the king strode upon the battlefield, sundering battle-automata and Astartes with as much as simple gestures. With his clothes unblemished by blood, his sword not once lifted to kill, he arrived before Russ. The Wolf-King feared the worst, yet he would not yield so simply. With aching lungs he asumed a battle-stance and bared his teeth.

"Again I ask, what is thine wish?" The Lord had spoken "Why hath thou come to this world?"

Russ had stared into the blueish-green eyes of his enemy, sensing a mind as strong as his own. Only now did he notice that the king was, infact, taller than him.

"Brother?" He had uttered.

Alexei and the Iudex do not know what exactly happened after that, but they have invited someone, or so they tell me, who does. Someone who has actually seen these things happen before his eyes. I wonder what kind of creature that might be, but I already hear hissing cogs and wheezing servos.

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-06-142001.05.42_zpsuzymhmt9.jpg

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

Hey folks, been a while^^

 

@The Psycho: Thanks very much mate, I've tried to come up with something new for the Primarch and I think this spin on regaility might just be that :) There will be more Lovecraft referencing too, for where light shines there must be a shadow cast... As for the Iudex, thanks for the praise and please! Do feel absolutely free to copy and steal away as you feel! I am more than flattered that someone would like to imitate my work! :D If you want an exact listing of how he was built, just pm me and I will help you out.

 

@Paladin7221: You know, it's quite a special feeling seing the same reactions in people I have myself when seeing stuff made by people like Apologist and Athrawes. :) Thanks very much!

 

@MordentHex: Thanks a bunch mate, again very honoured that you would want to draw inspiration from my stuff. As it stands right now much about primarch and legion is still in shift, basically only the visuals are set in stone, so as of now I'd be very wary with using anything as it could change quite significantly. If you'd have any specific questions, you can pm me anytime and I can try and give you some insight on the stuff that's still in the pipeline.

[GrandMagnus]

Poor poor Ivanka, it just gets worse and worse. I like it, it suits spykers to be so tormented all the time.

 

Your stories and models are great.

[Dagoth Ur]

The Man who would be King

 

And in the paths of ash
Another bond of burden seek
See the pale moon paint the sky in frost
And in the lives long past
In the cinders of the weak
Lie the failures of the lost

Fires fade
The dimming of the embers
Wake from your sleep again
Fires fade
Wills of steel to temper
Come reignite this hopeful flame

Inward face the eyes
Purge and purify

Silver silk strings of hope
Puppets pulled forward

Should the fires fade
Should the cinders dim
Should the fires fade
Silent sigh, final hymn

And the world comes tumbling down
Cold kings clutch crumbling crowns

Fires fade
The dimming of the embers
Wake from your sleep again
Fires fade
Wills of steel to temper
Come reignite this hopeful flame

 

-Gavin Dunne, "The Miracle of Sound" M2

 

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-06-232000.34.42_zpsiujp4qbv.jpg

-Ancient Pict-Capture dating back to early Great Crusade. Depicted is an unknown warrior, mayhaps an artistic interpretation of Lord Leman Russ or The Lion.

Statue appears to be in heavy disrepair. Current location: Unknown//ERASED BY HIS DECREE. Name of Remembrancer: Unknown//ERASED BY HIS DECREE.

[MordentHex]

really cool looking dude! judgement finger!!!

[Dagoth Ur]

Treatise on Post-Humana, Chapter IV: Homo Sapiensis Astartes, Sub-Chapter XI: Infernales Gladii

 

By the time the XI^th legion was established, the Emperor's vast armies had already conquered much of Terra's northern hemisphere, save for the dominion of the Xero-Kinesian Alliance still resisted. Indeed, long had the twin-rulers been a thorn in the Emperor's side, probing his forts across the whole of the eastern Y'ropean block. Though they were a mere nuisance at the time, He knew that an empire of such proportions could very well threaten His conquest and ruin everything He had striven and fought for. Thus a great campaign was called into life, composed largely from the XI^th legion and a few dozens of other gene-cohorts that submitted themselves to His rule.

It is to be noted that the XI^th did not witness any greater engagment up until then, be it because of their relative youth or some other, more eldritch reasoning, only He can tell. Even more puzzling, to many Imperial commandants at the very least, was the fact that the XI^th led the assault where most would have expected more seasoned officers to be delegated to this army.

I, for my part, theorise that this battle was intended as a proving-ground for the nascent legion, not only to the Emperor but also to all of the legions that would follow them. While the earlier legions had looked up to the vaunted I^st as their exemplars, the Angelum Tenebris had grown much too aloof and separated from their cousins for the later half of the legions to take example. It is known that the XI^th would later on distribute sergeants and centurions of its own across all the legions that came after it, much in the same manner the I^st had done from the II^nd to the X^th. In many ways, the XI^th became the second I^st, as stupendous as this description might sound. But this is not the place to detail these relations.

The XI^th was drawn mainly from the Y'go Slavian population that had submitted itself willingly to the Emperor's rule, with only the Cr'at'an oligarch refusing and meeting swift death at the IX^th's blades. As known throughout much of the Mediterranean canyon's and the eastern Y'ropean block, these were hard men and women, tested time and time again upon the anvil of war. In many ways they resembled the xeric tribes that would later on form the XIX^th legion: wild, violent and with a keen sense of honour, yet more controlled, melancholic and brooding.

However, nobody knew just what kind of a bloody precedent the XI^th would set for its later cousins. So brutal was this campaign that many, whispering behind closed doors, blamed its legacy for the violent and, at times, erratic nature displayed by the nascent XII^th, XVII^th, XVIII^th and XIX^th, rather than looking towards the barbaric cultures they sprang from. Whatever the truth may be, what transpired on the Y'ndi-Kinesian border can only be described as slaughter. At first, the Alliance managed to utilize terrain and expirience to their advantage, thus decimating the Emperor's forces quite heavily. What began as a swift-footed succession of assaults from the XI^th became a bloodied retreat in the misty fields and tangle-woods of Y'nd. Quickly the legion found itself surrounded in the former city of B'gdalesh, a crumbling ruin of once resplendent glory. It was here that the tides would turn. Perhaps cocky thanks to their overwhelming success against His forces, the Alliance chose to enter the city. This would prove to be their death. Expecting an unorganised and ragged mess, the soldiers found empty streets and marketplaces. What can only be described as gross, tactical negligience prompted the Kinezians to venture deeper into the city. Soon, most of the infantry had gathered within the city itself. A flash of fire and deafening roars cut the air apart. The spires, rigged with explosives, collapsed and, while not burrying many enemies, threw up so much dust, that the use of ballistic weapons became practically impossible. As soon as the Xero-Kinezian generals realised this, they ordered their forces to retreat but this would prove in vain. The XI^th had expected this, prompting the trap to shut itself for good. A second line of grenades tore the gates down, trapping and pitching the two armies against each other in an arena of death.

Nothing that transpired within the ruins is confirmed as true, save for the XI^th's victory, as most of the pict's are either too blurry of gruesome to be accepted as possible. There are eerie tales of the Xero-Kinezians trying to frantically crawl up the walls as the astartes came down upon them. People in the local area, to this day, tell of the Screaming Regiments, soldiers that died beneath swathes of liquid promethium and roaring chainblades. It is said that at the massacre's peak the blood had pooled at the height of a grown man's chest. The air was clogged with ash and the stink of burning meat. No respite, no terror as the VIII^th would have sown, but utter and total destruction.

The slaughter went on for two days. The cities gates were blasted open by the X^th and a small force of Custodians, only to reveal that the Emperor himself had arrived, wishing to see the aftermath of his youngest legion for himself. There was not a single living, non-astartes soul in the ruin. Amongst scorched ruins, bare bones and dry blood the Emperor was greeted by a legion clad in blackened and blood-drenched plate.

After taking in the sight of this charnel house for what seemed like an eternity, he had finally adressed the kneeling force.

"As you have waded through the fires of war and tasted the blood of the fallen" He had proclaimed while pointing his flame sword towards the dead sky"You too shall bear a name of your own. Today, in these ruins that stand as testament to your strength, I proclaim you my Infernal Blades. To you all I grant the sole right of bearing my sword upon your shoulders."

Legend says, however, that while He spoke those words his eyes were marred with wariness and concern. Perhaps he saw something in the distant future that no one else could see?

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

 

Kinda in a hurry folks, but let me say the following. The First Sinner is almost complete in build! :)

[sockwithaticket]

Some interesting stuff going on here. Act VIII is stellar, really like how much the hood/headscarf changes the base model so much.

[Calgar 2.0]

Awesome stuff! Really big inspiration, as I'm looking at getting into Inquisimunda myself. Going with more a RT feeling, though.

[MikhalLeNoir]

I abaolutely like your take on the lost legions. Great models. Great lead to and the dark souls reference speaks for itself. BUT and that but is crucial as I think it takes away a lot if the whole scenario: don't make him a mary sue. He is stronger better cooler prettier than all if the other primarchs? Imho a No-Go. You habe such good writing and lore building. I would change that. At one or two points he excells, but having him everywhere on par or even better? Why? There is no reason to do that.

 

Besides from that: awesome stuff

[Dagoth Ur]

Hey folks long time no see! :)

 

@sockwithaticket: Thanks mate! It was really fun to work on the AoS Conversions. :)

 

@Calgar 2.0: Thanks man, glad you like it that much! Would love to see a RT flavored inquisimunda project :)

 

@MikhalLeNoir: Thanks for the compliments mate! On topic of Mary-Sue: Keep in mind, you have barely seen anything concerning the primarch. I base my design upon the Tarot Arcana, much like Athrawes did, and I have taken the XX-Final Judgement as my inspiration. It states that the Final Judgement combines some of the Emperor's greatest virtues, while being "only susceptible" to the greatest flaws. The flaws point I will change and twirl up, as depression, cynicism, fatalism, sacrifice and more dark emotions play a very important role in Dark Souls(And lets be honest, being just susceptible is boring). "Stronger better cooler prettier" is a fallacy right there, if I may say so, since the role the First Sinner fullfills is the role of the Heir. As such, he has to be imposing and towering over his brothers, or at least appear as such. Keep in mind, he was born to rule and inherit the order of the world, by accident or by design it does not matter. A particular inspiration was Prinz Siegfried of the Nibelungsaga, a prince who bests everyone in fair and truthful combat. Notice, fair and truthful, for Siegfried dies at the hand of one of his closest friends with a spear lodged in his back. We have plenty of feats of badassery comming from primarchs: Angron benchpressing a warhound titan, Lorgar surviving a plasma-tornado to the face (Basically the equivalent of giving the sun a big fat smooch), Curze fighting two primarchs at the same time and so on and so forth. My point is, I do not believe that one should be hampered in creating a primarch by the "old scheme" of only excelling at something. Characters that appear glorious and mary-sueish at first glance do not have to be. We have plenty of such characters in medieval poetry, again Siegfried being the prime example, and they make for quite compelling characters. The important thing is to keep it tasteful.

It is this what I aim the First Sinner to be: A hero of ancient sagas, the peer amongst his brothers and the heir. However, do not mix up peerdom and prowess. The Sinner is strong, swift and intelligent, yes. Does it mean that he has the same knoweldge about siegecraft as Perturabo or the same deep insight into sorcery as Magnus? Good grief no. This is a difference between nature and nurture. Would he surpas Magnus in sorcery if he had landed on Prospero? Probably, but so would have Lorgar.

As the tarot states, the Sinner, and by extension his legion, will be heavily incapable in subterfuge and covert tactics. So the Raven Guard and the Alpha Legion have a cutting edge here. Sinner and legion have by far not such a siege-armoury as the Imperial Fists and the Iron Warriors have, so they probably wont be doing any sieges very soon. The Legion will be heavy assault focused, akin to the Blood Angels, but with a preference for Despoiler Squads instead of Assault Squads. Indeed, podding, teleporting and foot-slogging is their thing, just as city-wars and boarding actions are. You should check out the Outlanders Blackshield RoW, it's basically what I imagine them to be to a certain extent. Biker-Assault is absolutely not their thing, so again you have something in which they do not excell. The Legion itself is more of a generic Assault legion, filling in the niche of the pure pod- and port-army, when it comes to general tactics. They also feature psychic warfare but not as the Thousand Sons do. The thousand sons are masters of all disciplines, the pinnacle of psychic warfare. The XIth, as I envision it, embodies fire. It eats and destroys all in its path, like the Bed of Chaos in Dark Souls. While there are quite a few psykers within the legion (Librarius size, no real psykers among the rank and file as with the Thousand Sons), they are almost exclusively pyromancers.

Such it is with the Sinner, he is a destructive force. To his enemies he is a grim specter wrought in flame and cinders, to his friends a benevolent friend and paragon. To himself he is a dark and brooding thing, forever wrought in doubt and uncertanity, pressing forward not because he is good at it but because it is the only thing he knows. I have a hard time not spoilering much, so I will end it with this: His greatness will be his downfall.

 

As a general announcement: After two weeks of barely to no painting I have got around to starting Alexei and I have something with the permission of the Wier brothers comming this way, something big, church-y and miffed...

 

Soo, see ya in a few days! :D

[MikhalLeNoir]

Ah. I think that explains a lot.

 

Athrawes used another source for the tarot. There are only the world, high priest and wheel of fortune left. I guess u used a standsrd deck? Then it makes sense if you have the final judgement as heir, also imho that fits to Horus too.

 

Still the approach to make him stand above else is in my view questionsome. We tend to make pur own characters powerful as we give them the breath of life. But that is always a balancing act. But that is my view. You did a great job and take inspiration from dark souls and is defintely a great thing and I am looking forward how the tale will end here.

[MordentHex]

I don't think he will stand above the others any more than Horus does. I can even see Horus being a little jealous of him too. From I can tell he was the real candidate for warmaster before everything went belly up.

[Dagoth Ur]

Forever Flame

 

-I hear them, Lord. I hear the voices of those Once-Loved. Their thoughts echoing finally after ten millenia. When Father betrayed Son, when you most gracious Lord wept as all descended into fire, they all mourned. It is why they called you the Lost, for even in battle they could do naught more but lament the brother they lost. No rage. No hatred. No fury. Only sadness.-

 

              -Ivanka the Skinless, The Night the Primarchs Wept

 

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

 

This is where He shall die. A field of ashes so wide I cannot see an end. Bones crack beneath my feet, dry like twigs and bleached by untold solar cycles. Truthfully, it remembers me of Chogoris, but where its hills are clad in green fields and sand-coloured mountains sprout beneath a cobalt sky, this plateau wears naught but grey fields, marble cathedrals and a fiendishly burning sky. The black and red warriors fight with a monstrous tenacity, the like of which I have rarely seen within men. Where my sons laugh at death, as they brandish tulwar and bolter, the eleventh embrace death and fire. Bloodsoaked and covered in soot they fight in bitter silence. This is who they are, what genes, Terra and father had made of them: a weapon of merciless destruction. I have fought at their side once, a long time ago. A world, one of millions, populated by mankind's lost children. They refused our offer of peace and signed their own doom with the same breath. The Sinner had ordered merciless destruction. He demanded each and every man, child and women slain and burnt. I was horrified. I protested against such needless massacre. My brother's eyes, the colour of a stormy sea, had found my own in what I understood to be indifference. I could not change the fate of Utamna-IIb, a world that died within twenty-eight standard hours and was repopulated within a year, no matter how much I tried. Such brutality is to be found among many of my brethren. Angron and Konrad to only name two. Such vicious hatred against the enemy, human or alien. Is this why Father banishes him? Was he the root, the prime of such violence? I do not know. I am not supposed to doubt. Yet still...

 

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

 

 http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-08-062023.30.20_zpssga0ptkl.jpg

 

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

 

I never loved him, but I admired him. I admired him more than any of my brethren. In war he was a beast, a storm of fire and lightning clad in black plate and gold. So similar to me, Horus had once said, just as stoic and distant. Yet there was something within him that I could not match. While we both appeared reclusive and taciturn, he always had this aura of royalty. In older times it is he who would have been the Lord and me who would have been the Knight. We primarchs became rulers on our own worlds, we all were lords - save for Angron, the pitiful beast.- but did we become thus truly by virtue or are these achievements born of our refined flesh and blood? It is hard to say but I find myself doubting that often, even now as the eleventh legion falls beneath my sword. I doubt I would have survived the dark forests of the blighted world I was cast upon. I doubt I would have grown to be the greatest amongst all orders. I doubt I would lead an army as I do now. Much to my chagrin I must admit that I believe that the Sinner would have grown to be a king, superhuman or not. Perhaps it is this that separates us truly from Mankind. We all were created to be warriors and legends, given all these virtues and strengths without the adversity or struggle mortal men have had to endure of rmillenia. The Sinner was not only created to be a warrior, not only shaped by Father's hand to be a legend. He was born a Lord, this singular truth radiated from his very core and every word he spoke. Furthermore, he had bestowed this gift upon his sons.

I feel it in them. I see it in the way they stand and fight. Their armour is black and red, so similar to the plate of my very own spawn. Yet where mine trim it with silver, His own bear the gold of ancient monarchs. Like kings they walk, like kings they fight, and like kings they die. Wrought in glory.

 

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

 

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-08-072000.58.34_zpsxl2hqh2z.jpg

 

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

 

My wings bear me across the battlefield as I reap a red toll. Wherever I strike the bell-like clang of death mutes the sound of war. This is what I was created to be, the vengeful angel of ancient myths clad in flesh and gold. My sons follow me, some born into the air by jumppacks, the majority however pitted in the throes of battle with the eleventh. Their scarlet-red armour is covered in gore and I can hear familiar cries of battle. Many will mistake our willingness to wage this war as joy. Many more will asume that we relish in our role as angels while we slaughter humans. They are wrong. We take pride in our strength and role, but joy there is none. The angels of old myth rarely ever descended with piece in mind. Mostly they appeared as the red-handed executors of some ancient deity's will, ready to bring divine justice upon the sinners. So are we, this is what we do. Today, we bring ultimate justice upon one of our own. One of my brethren who was closest to me, save for Horus perhaps. A brother I have shared much with and who I love almost as much as my father, even now. I do not question His judgement, for doing so is betrayal, but i would lie if I didn't admit that my mind tells me something is amiss.

I can see the Sinner beneath me. A giant with tears in his eyes. His spear cuts down swathes of Astartes, no one capable to get even close to him. Those that chose ranged combat above hand to hand, in the vain hope that they would survive a little longer, are met with psychic flames and golden lightning. Around him I see his most trusted soldiers: Leaders, Librarians and ancient, iron-clad posthumans originating from this world.

I descend upon him, sorrow in my heart as I point my sword at him and yell "Lost Sinner, we have come for you!"

His head snaps up and these eyes, these hateful eyes filled with betrayal, find mine. A wave of arcing gold pushes his enemies away from him as he roars his response.

"I am not a Sinner!"

The thunder echoes in his voice as fire envelops my wings and smoke stings in my eyes. Lightning flashes up and leaves me blind for a second, shortly followed by another deafening roar.

"I AM MORAIN."

 

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

 

http://i411.photobucket.com/albums/pp194/hodoalmir/2016-08-072000.57.50_zps5knqcuwy.jpg

 

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

[Ada]

Brilliant models mate, and an excellent narrative.

 

Well done.