The Reaper's Hammer Crusade: New Fluff!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Good job so far. Will you leave the models' bases unadorned, or decorate them with grass, bloodstains, enemy corpses, etc.?

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

The plan is to cork the bases later, like the first Hellblaster I painted a long time ago. I just want to get through the initial painting of the models first, seeing as I have so much to do still.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Okay, after a LONG wait, IRL obligations, and just getting the pic taken, here are the Terminators!

 

 

Sorry about the size, but I can't remember how to make the image bigger for the post. If anyone can lead me through the process, that would be greatly appreciated! 

 

I also just realized that the camera cut off the leftmost Termi's TH, but I assure you, it's painted just like the others.

Edited May 14, 2022 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN

[The Pounder]

The Terminators are looking good!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Good job on the Terminators.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Are we back? WE'RE BACK!

Okay, I haven't been idle (at least no more than usual), and I will be posting pics soon of the units I have "completed" during the downtime, and have a new piece of "fluff" coming for the Crusade. The next installment has been a bit difficult to write, but it's coming soon!

I haven't been gaming yet, waiting for the Nephilim GT rules to drop and actually picking it up myself for a thorough review. Also, my penitent painting has taken up a lot of my free time.

Glad to see everyone again!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

*** INCOMMING FLUFF***

Hive Madrigal

 

How has it come to this? Marshal Eidrich thought.

 

Explosions thundered outside the walls of the command post, ripping the ground outside the spire apart with their fury. The raised voices of the damned could be heard chanting their blasphemous cries as they advanced on the last bastion of the hive still in loyalists hands. Five Thunderhawks and nineteen Stormravens were either in the process of lifting off or touching down, all of them pressed into the most hated of actions.

 

Evacuation. Retreat.

 

Madrigal Hive was lost. Completely overrun.

 

They had held for seventeen days since the Chaos Astartes entered orbit, but that defiance was now at an end.

 

Defeat had a sour taste, and weighed heavy on the soul. Eidrich had tasted it before, hating it each and every time. In that, this was no different.

 

But the scale... that stole his breath. The totality of it. Not even his mighty rage could topple the crushing weight of this routing his forces had suffered here.

 

Marshal Eidrich directed his hate filled gaze one last time at the onrushing attackers. He saw a single squad of his marines holding the line, the single choke point before the command spire proper. The forces of the arch enemy were bearing down on them in such numbers that he would have to go into his near eidetic memory to count them all later. Monstrous tanks and a blasphemous hybrid titanic half breed machine-daemon shelled the area mercilessly, trying to cut off the escaping loyalist forces still fleeing the hive. He turned his gaze away and strode for the rear exit to the landing pad. The Stormraven’s turbines were already screaming, a moment from take-off.

 

He would be the last to leave. Anyone that was behind him would be left to the embrace of the God-Emperor. They all knew it, had volunteered for it. It still sat heavy on his shoulders, knowing that those brave men were dying to give them this once chance to retreat and fight on elsewhere.

 

Seventeen days, and it had all gone to hell.

 

How has it come to this?

 

* * *

 

The traitor fleet was now only two days out, with the possibility of scouting craft coming in sooner, but the Reaper’s Hammer and it’s attendant vessels had already disgorged nearly every warrior and combat vehicle that had any possibility of holding together in a battle. Walking wounded were reevaluated and pressed back onto lines they had been pulled from for medical treatment now deemed too time consuming. Every mortal soldier and Astartes readied for total war as the threat of the traitor menace loomed closer.

 

The mortal soldiers and serfs, as well as local civilians that had not yet fled into bunkers and safe houses or quit the hive altogether, reported nightmares whenever they slept. Fatigue began to plague them as they tried to resist the call to slumber, or awoke screaming in their billets after what felt to them like only moments of rest.

 

The Astartes themselves remained immune, but the legionaries within the Ultramarines were at a loss as to what to do. They stoically bore the circumstance, but many of their number were reported to questioning how space marines could turn their weapons against one another.

 

Marshal Eidrich wanted to scream at each and every one of them, his initial thought being of their cowardice. It took a great deal of effort to keep in mind their self-proclaimed beliefs and when they claimed to be from. For them, 10,000 years had passed without any reference or knowledge of what the galaxy had become. He didn’t want to believe it, but he also knew how treacherous the warp could be. It was not the first time a crew had been waylaid within it’s depths far longer than anyone realized.

 

That thought tempered him little, but enough not to lash out at their naivety. They would face the grim reality soon enough, and then they would either fold under the pressure or be hardened to this cold reality of treason and war against the dark parody of themselves.

 

The combined forces has spread their numbers out amongst the strongholds they still maintained in the wake of the daemonic advance from the underhive, reinforcing those locations and gaining back a measure of the ground lost in the initial attacks, but now all forces held position, trying to gauge where the foe would try to gain entry. The overall bulk of the Astartes forces, as well as a sizable contingent of the Governor’s soldiers and armor remained at the command spire, awaiting either the attack at the top of the hive or to be ordered to reinforce lower.

 

Not for the first time, Eidrich mentally lamented the decision to come to this agri-world rather than join the Eternal Crusader in the hunt for the Ork warlord that escaped Armageddon. There was no chance of getting out now, and honor would not allow him to do so even if he could. Not a single Black Templar, full knight or Neophyte, would quit this war, especially now that their traitorous cousins had arrived.

 

‘I still wish you and Victorian had not been so thorough in dismantling the anti-air and orbital defenses of the hive!’ Inquisitor Silibas yelled again from his perch looking over the strategic hololith as the red dots of the enemy fleet drew closer.

 

‘Silence.’ was the only word Eidrich spoke, low, but with all the menace he could inflect into his voice accompanying it.

 

‘Your combined fleet could have attacked! Instead you send them away!’ the Inquisitor shrieked, throwing a sheaf of papers and disturbing the projection emitters for a moment.

 

Malovich, Emperor’s Champion, had been standing rigid and still as a statue until that moment. He half drew the Black Sword from it’s sheath and took one step toward the railing Inquisitor. The man recoiled sharply as if struck by an invisible blow before recovering slightly.

‘Five vessels, against ten times their own number,’ Eidrich spoke as he waved Malovich back with one hand, ‘Even if they killed a handful of that rabble, the rest would overrun them. I am certain you are quite adept at discovering heresy wherever it may lurk, but you seem to have no grasp of void conflict, so I shall illuminate you. Those vessels are better situated to make attacking runs at the fleet once they are bound to orbit and unable to flee effectively. They shall harass the enemy until reinforcements can arrive.’ He left out the hopefully that should have accompanied that statement.

 

‘So you intend to give them orbit?’ Silibas scowled as Victorian entered the cramped room.

 

‘The Marshal is correct,’ he stated as he closed on the hololith table and placed his balled fists against the edge, ‘The enemy will make planetfall regardless of our vessel’s interdiction or not. There are simply too many of them. So far eighteen of their vessels have been identified by the Hammer before it was forced to quit orbit. Amongst them are identified vessels of the Black Legion, World Eaters, and at least two ancient strike cruisers from the Iron Warriors Legions. Several of the vessels were once identified as lost in the warp or seized by the traitors in raids or war.’ Victorian turned his eyes to Eidrich, ‘I’ve been studying the reports as they come in as well as pertinent histories where they could be located in your archives planet side. It makes for a bleak outlook.’

 

‘Indeed,’ Eidrich nodded, ‘The Lamentation being here is particularly troublesome. It’s last recorded engagement saw it destroy two planets in the Fortidies System of the Gothic Sector fifty years ago. When last it was seen, it was attached to the Renegade Chapter of The Cleaved, but now bears the markings of the Black Legion. Many of the vessels have also been historically identified as other traitor legions of chapters, but are now unified outside of those identified as World Eaters or Iron Warriors. Last spotting also shows two bearing the hallmarks of disease and plague ships.’

 

‘What is your overall assessment, Marshal?’ Victorian asked, clearly disturbed by the report and his studies.

 

‘This planet is doomed without us.’ was all he could reply.

 

‘If they are allowed to make planetfall at all, it may be doomed with us!’ Silibas lamented.

 

Eidrich ignored the Inquisitor and addressed Victorian alone, ‘Order all forces to four-hour rest in staggered order, no matter what assails their minds in sleep. None of us shall rest easy by tomorrow.’

[Brother Carpenter]

Yes a new part of the story 

Really digging this fluff story!

Keep it coming

Edited August 15, 2022 by Brother Carpenter
Typo

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Yes, the ZEAL begins to flow strongly once again! More to come, but as a warning, it's going to be a lead-up to the next battle, not right into the action.

[Brother Carpenter]

I also like the different plotlines merging and splitting again. Love to hear more about the rescued lr.

 

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

The rescued LR, as you put it, has a very interesting plot of its own in the coming narrative, but it's going to be a bit hard to write. I'll remind the reader that this narrative is entirely based on a narrative campaign that my son and I have been playing for years, and I hit stumbling points once in a while, like trying to justify his decision to make his force "Heresy Era" and how that would play out in the minds of the "Modern-Day BT". He helps me a lot with the writing, as he has a very good memory for how these events took place on the tabletop and how to write these events into an interesting narrative form for the readers here. Basically, 'if I can entertain him, I think it will entertain you,' is the thought I come to the writing with. I'm glad to see the interest is still here for the narrative, and I'll keep grinding them out as I can.

Big Thanks to all the readers!

 

(By the way, sorry about the HUGE spacings in the paragraphs. It's something I'm working to correct!)

Edited August 20, 2022 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN
Addition

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Tech Adept Jessen took his increasingly rare moments of downtime in the land-based archives brought down from the Reaper’s Hammer and pouring through any archival text he came across within the command spire and whatever was left of the data vaults within the vicinity of the almost ruined spire top. The image he had seen in the machine spirit captivated him, as if he should know it. The Mechanicum Opus was self-explanatory. They made the machines, and the refurbished Land Raider would have been no exception. The fact that it took the Templar Cross easily enough was a testament to its refurbished spirit, but as far as he knew, those should have been the only marks the spirit would have had.

Jessen had seen the stripped-down hull when it had been recovered and brought back to the forge ship Bi-Aleph 73 that shadowed the Hammer. There was nothing left within the frame to house its former machine spirit. The Tech Priest he had questioned had told him there was no way any of its past could mechanically exist without the Machine God’s direct intervention. The priest had even attempted to commune with the machine spirit when notified of the aberration and had come out of the machine trance saying that nothing was amiss from his diagnostics other than to say that the spirit was disinterested in his ministrations. He allowed that for a newly activated spirit, it might take some time for it to become bellicose and eager for war, but that even in it’s state, the Land Raider Crusader was perfectly able to function, as it had displayed during its initial fielding.

Jessen drew out the other icon he had witnessed and asked the Tech Priest what he made of it. After a moment of inspection of Jessens’ crude outline, the priest made an audible clanking from his cranium and admitted no knowledge of the symbol. He did say posit the theories that since it took the form of a wolf in his vision, perhaps it was an image it took on for itself created of its own accord, or that Jessen had imposed the image in his own mind onto that of the machine.

Neither explanation satisfied Jessen, however. He looked through dusty tomes that seemed to have not been touched in ages and searched data storage as far back as he had access to. He even found himself researching the symbology's of Chapters declared Excommunicate Traitorous with no luck. He showed the crude drawing to Macharion, and he had no knowledge of it either.

A part of him felt that to show others the image would be problematic. He ended up tossing the drawing into a burning refuse container and tried, for a time, to put it from his mind. He focused on the maintaining of the Land Raider as well as his duties as the vehicle operator in theater. His vehicle had been on seven deployments thus far since his initial insertion, transporting forces to and from engagements with the PDF and their spectral allies, and it had performed admirably in each, but never the feeling of belligerence he had come to expect from other machines. Targeting the daemons did seem to hold it’s interest briefly, but even that rise in aggressiveness was short lived and minimal in nature.

It was as he was studying the images of the recorded actions of the Black Templars during the war against Goge Vandire that Inquisitor Silibas came to him. The inquisitor found him hunched over a crate of data spools with a handheld wire reader and imager, flicking the wire through at speed, pausing occasionally on an image and moving on.

‘I have seen the image you search for, Astartes,’ Silibas stated flatly as he entered and closed the door, ‘Where have you seen it?’

Slowly, Jessen paced the spool and reader on the floor and stood to his full height, his back still to the Inquisitor, ‘I do not answer to the likes of you.’

‘Call it a curiosity,’ the man replied slyly.

‘A passing fancy,’ Jessen replied as he turned on Silibas, ‘Nothing more than passing time between engagements.’

‘Indeed?’ Silibas prodded, ‘Do you and your brethren make a habit of researching heretical content in your downtime?’

‘Heretical?’ He could not hide the surprise from his voice.

‘The tomes you’ve been seen studying, and the image that was shown to me by your own Tech Priest. What you seek is so far from the light of the God-Emperor that it could be said be an image of damnation and forgotten for a reason.’ Silibas’ gaze hardened, ‘Where have you come across this image?’

‘Where is it from?’ Jessen spat back with the same vehemence he was being questioned with.

The Inquisitor, while a stalwart and hard man, was still a mortal man, and the fear an Astartes could generate in a mortal man had a habit of cowing even the most stolid souls. Silibas was no different in this case and reoiled a step at Jessen’s tone. Jessen smiled inwardly at the man’s fear.

‘I see,’ he said as he took a step forward, causing the Inquisitor to cower back further, ‘You say it’s a cursed image, and expect me to believe you. Your efforts at intimidation may work on humans well, but you come to me,’ Jessen gestured around the small room, ‘Alone, and expect to cow me? I am a faithful servant of the God-Emperor, and a close companion with the Machine-God. The Machine Cult preaches that all knowledge is divine. If I search at iconography of the traitor, it is only to better recognize it when seen and purge it in the name of the God-Emperor. Remember that when you question one of us again, Inquisitor.’

Silibas recovered some of his haughty anger at that.

‘You’ve made two mistakes, Astartes,’ he growled, ‘First being that Research into icons that should not be known, and second,’ Silibas gestured to a near corner, ‘That I am alone.’

As if on cue, a man-shaped apparition unfolded from the shadows in the corner, an elongated cybernetic skull with a massive eye piece and arcane technology sparking across the cylindrical apparatus attached the side of the head. Its mere presence filled Jessen with a cold dread, seeming to leach the warmth from the air. The form seemed to shift just a little bit out of sync with his vision, there and not at once. He found his eyes losing focus on it. It had the build of a man, but was not, or other.

Jessen’s sidearm was in his hand and aimed before he really registered the thought in his own mind. It was an effort of supreme will not to pull the trigger, another not to turn from the abomination the Inquisitor had brought in his presence.

‘I say this to you only once, Adept Jessen,’ Silibas threatened, ‘Cease your abominable research into this icon. Put it from your mind. You may cow me, but not him.’

Silibas turned to the door and threw it wide, admitting the light and sound in from the command center. The illumination did nothing to reveal the specter that followed the Inquisitor out from the small room.

‘What is it?’ Jessen called, clamping his bolt pistol to his thigh once again.

‘Curiosity best left unfulfilled, Jessen.’ was the only reply.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

+++FLUFF ALERT+++

Icarus Prime

Hive Madrigal

Sword Brother Tolor

 

I kneel amid the rockcrete debris and dust with my Terminator Squad. The thunder hammer in my gauntlet and shield strapped to my opposing arm feeling weightless, but heavy with the burden of duty. I have been taken from the honor squad of my Marshal, ordered back into the heavy plate armor I have donned so many times, and told to lead my Sword Brothers once again in it’s cumbersome embrace.

Malovich, Emperors Champion of our Crusade, kneels beside me on my right, the other nine of my brothers to my left. We kneel in the shadow of my Marshals Land Raider Crusader. It’s operator and gunner are within the reforged machine, taking part in our observance from hatches atop the blocky vehicle.

Our litanies of Faith and Fury pour from my mouth as a whisper. My battle helm is off, lying upright between my knee and foot as I pray. My eyes are closed, but this does nothing to effect my other senses. I hear Chaplain Russius passing down the line. He barks a correction at a recently elevated initiate further down the line from my brothers. I would be amused by this under different circumstances, by not today. Today it is of utmost importance that I, no, we, observe our rights.

The great enemy is near. The traitors will be in orbit in but a handful of hours. Our preparations have been made. This is the last of it. We reaffirm our oaths to the God-Emperor. We consecrate our weapons and souls to the task of destroying the oath-breakers that come down on us.

The reports I have studied try to interrupt my observance, pushing to the fore of my mind as if it has a life of it’s own and cause me dread. I force it back, the words of the litanies gaining a small measure of volume in my throat.

The Chaplain is before me now, having consecrated my brothers before me. I feel his shadow upon the naked flesh of my face.

‘Speak the Litany of Hate, Brother Tolor,’ he speaks to me, ‘The God-Emperor knows of your faith well enough. Look to the rage you should feel for the foe, and pour your anger into the well of your spirit against them all.’

The Litany of Hate comes easily, and washes over my soul like a cleansing balm. I feel the difference, even as the words I whisper fall out of time with the litanies spoken around me. I feel Chaplain Russius anoint my forehead with the holy oils in the sign of the Holy Aquilla, and touch my hammer and shield with it as well. Then he is past me, speaking softly to Malovich. I pay no attention to the words he has spoken to him, my mind awash with the growing hatred of the coming foe.

A stone skips across the ground behind and beside the Land Raider, a crunch of dust under a ceramite boot. Footsteps. Not one of Black Templars would dare to be moving yet, not until the observance is declared complete by the Chaplain. I hear others, a group, observing our rites.

It can only be the Ultramarines. Those from a distant past, supposedly, unused to the Emperor being God. They think us strange. I heard one say we were idolators in days past. I would have broken him in half had the Chaplain himself not intervened. They usually leave us alone, though.

I feel the Litany of hate swell in volume as my anger is stoked by the intrusion.

‘All Rise,’ Chaplain Russius intones loudly for the entire line to hear, ‘And go forth with vengeance in your hearts.’

My eyes snap open, glaring out at the diseased light of the day. I scoop up my helm and lock it into place before I turn toward the intruders. As much as I may distrust them, they are our allies here, and I have already been warned not to anger the Ultramarines. I hide my anger poorly behind the mask of my helmet, knowing that my posture alone will give away my aggression.

Malovich stands, his holy helm tucked under one arm and turns convivially to the Utramarian intruders as if in welcome. It galls me that he does this, but I am in no place to go against him. He is the God-Emperors chosen champion. His actions are blessed by His touch.

‘You might have joined us, cousin,’ Malovich greets the sergeant of the squad whom had come to observe. I believe his name to be Angorian. ‘With your Captains permission, and my Chaplains.’

‘With great respect, no, cousin,’ Angorian replies as he draws nearer. I close closer to Malovich, both wanting to be nearer and to keep the Ultramarine away, even knowing that I must do nothing to him, ‘Many of my brothers had a curiosity. We only thought to witness this observance first hand.’

‘And?’ Chaplain Russius asks as he returns from further up the line, ‘I sense a judgement from you.’ He does not call them brother or cousin. This makes a wicked smile catch the corners of my lips.

‘I judge not, Chaplain,’ Angorian seems to back-peddle a bit, ‘I just...’

‘He does not understand.’ Malovich finishes for Angorian, ‘From his time, they did not recognize the God-Emperor for what he truly is.’

‘Yes, I have heard this.’ Russius looks to Malovich, then back to Angorian and his squad, ‘As disturbing as your lack of faith is, it is not uncommon within the Chapters of the Astartes even today. But he see’s and knows each of our hearts, and those that fight in his name are blessed whether they believe in his divinity or not. I have come to know this. It is a lesson we all should learn.’

I feel the barb, and the grin drops from my face. I cannot help but feel that statement directed at me alone, or it may be my own guilt at the distrust I have been harboring for our allies. I pray to find a moment to reflect on this later.

‘To have seen Him in life,’ Malovich said to the whole squad, ‘To have served the orders of one of His sons, to have walked in the footsteps of the beginning of our Imperium, I must admit a jealousy to you, cousins.’ I watch as my Emperors Champion kneels in the dust before these other Marines.

I do not want to! My pride screams at me not to! I feel a stab of hate for Malovich then, abasing himself to them!

But then, my own Chaplain has followed suit. Russius himself kneels before them.

How can this be?

Angorian is perplexed as more of my brothers in the vicinity do so as well. My unwillingness feels like defiance now, shamed by the actions revering these warriors out of their own time, and shamed again by not doing so.

My Sword Brethren look to me for guidance. Our plate is heavy, cumbersome, and takes time to lower into a kneel. I know I cannot now fail to show reverence, with so many of my brothers doing so, even if I do not feel as they do.

I bow slightly at the waist, and touch my hammer head to the ground. I hear my brothers do the same.

Let this be enough.

‘Please, no, Brothers!’ Angorian nearly yells, stepping back from us slightly.

We all rise at the same time.

‘We have faith in the God-Emperor, and that faith sustains us without His presence,’ Malovich says, ‘You whom have seen him before the Great Heresy are blessed to have known Him, or of Him, while He still walked amongst you. For you, He is a man, the greatest man to have ever lived. We will never know Him as such. His workings are that of God-Emperor, and we are the shield in the dark against what you will soon see as the path of disbelief when the traitors land. I beg forgiveness for the jealousy in my own heart not to have known of Him as you have.’

‘There is nothing to forgive, Malovich.’ Angorian regains the step he took back as he speaks, ‘But why? Why is He God to you?’

I bridle at the question.

‘In most cases, it is a question of faith. He simply is. In my own experience, however, I know it to be true.’

‘How?’ Angorian questions angrily now, ‘How can you know a man is a God?’

‘I have seen and felt his touch upon me.’ Malovich responds calmly.

I feel my heart lighten. His story of his vision is an uplifting one, and I long to hear it once again.

‘I tell you now, Angorian, I nearly died when he laid his gaze upon me. I sought it not. He came to me during prayer with my squad aboard the Hammer four years ago. I saw what he had in store for me, and knew it to be the path I was destined to tread. I was tested harshly, to ensure my testimony was true. When the Chaplain was satisfied, I have worn the armor and weapons gifted to the Champion of the God-Emperor ever since.’

‘What vision?’ Angorian asks, genuine curiosity pouring from him now.

‘A ship corridor I do not yet know, suffused with golden light,’ Malovich begins, his gaze going distant ino the past and future yet to come, ‘I will face a pair of monstrous creatures with a squad of Sword Brethren Terminators at my back. A thread of holy light guides the black sword in my hand as I cut down the first of the creatures, an Astartes given over to the warp in fullness. I send him screaming back to whence he came, and move on to the second. This will be the creature that kills me.’

I stand in awe, long ago having removed the jealous desire to have had it be myself.

‘And you know this vision to be from the Emperor himself?’ Angorian asks, disbelief creeping into his voice.

‘It is the only explanation.’ Chaplain Russius states flatly, ‘I tested him myself, and found no hint of taint upon him.’

‘Could it not be a vision of a psyker, though?’ he asks.

He doesn’t know. He couldn’t, not if he were of the time he claims to be, but the question is reacted to as if it were an accusation. All around me, I see hands drifting to weapons. My own grip tightens on my hammer and raises fractionally.

‘Every brother you see before you in black has been tested to the cellular level before he can even become an aspirant in our order.’ Malovich nearly growls, ‘I assure you, there is no taint within me, or any other brother you come into contact with. Every one of us is pure.’

‘And your tale,’ Angorian waves a hand at my Emperors Champion, ‘We are to believe you because you told a tale of a vision and a chaplain corroborated it?’

‘It was real.’ Malovich stands upright, eyeing the Ultramarine with a hint of contempt, ‘You are forced to take it on faith.’

‘Forgive me, Malovich, but when it comes to where I place my faith,’ Angorian turns away from us, ‘I place my faith in this.’

As he strides away, he pats the side of my Marshals Land Raider. His squad follows him, a few glancing back at us either in curiosity of disbelief.

I am beyond caring, and turn toward my own duties as the Ultramarines depart.

* * *

Jessen and Macharion both felt what happened next as a spiritual blow. Macharion would feel it less, with only a limited immersion into the machine spirit, but the effect of the Ultramarines touch on the hull hit Jessen full force.

An aching howl, sorrowful and deep as a planets core, washed over them both from the machine, as if a deep hurt had just been uncovered once again and surged throughout the vehicle.

And close on it’s heels, the first stirrings of aggressiveness and anger Jesen had felt from the machine. A growl, like an ember, small and lonely, but ready to light a conflagration that could burn a world.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Brothers that continue to follow my (lack of) progress and fluff, I have a confession to make. My motivation for painting the Crusade force I have in backlog has waned once again.

I looked at all the character models I had been painting from way back in my abortive attempt at the last Knightfall challenge, and the more I looked at them, the more I hated the job I had done to that point. I was frantically rushing to get them painted, taking a LOT of shortcuts I shouldn't have, and even in failure, I tried to think of what I could do to salvage them as they were. Nothing came to mind. Fed up with the work I had done, I stripped them all. This ruined the greenstuff work I had done to several of the models, and disheartened me greatly as I now have to go back and redo it all again. Staring at the sea of grey, though, has ruined my motivation to begin again.

Meanwhile, I have projects I haven't even begun to work on, and at least 3-4 other armies I have collected that have not seen the touch of paint since I excitedly built them (not mentioned in my Bio as I don't want to claim I have a playable force until I have at least 2,000 pts painted). All of this combined, my motivation has flagged.

I think it's time to take a step back and seriously think about what I'm going to do next. Right now, I almost think it will be better to shelve the work on my BT force for a while. I'll always come back to this army as it is my first and most beloved, but I think I'm burned out on them ATM. I still have more than 2,000 pts of Imperial Knights of House Hawkshroud to finish painting (yellow is a pain in the  to get right over large pannels). On top of that, I have a small but growing Daemons of Khorne army (Patrol strength), Chaos Marines (WAY too many), and a HUGE force of Necrons (began with the Indomitus box set and grew out of control from there). I still have a sizable force of Tyranids too, but I think I'm going to get rid of them as I have never felt passionate about them in the least. And finally, I have the FW Warlord Titan that has been sitting in many boxes since I got it middle of last year thinking that they were going to stop selling it at all. All I have done to it so far is remove the casting gates and clean it up.

But, as I struggle to determine where to go from here, I can almost feel my unfinished BT screaming at me for completion. The indecision on my part has left me torn which way to go. This compounds into inaction, and spirals into despair.

Right now, I'm slowly working on a First-Born Ancient with bolt pistol and the massive banner I made years ago while I try to make a decision. I'm taking my time with it, as I surely do not want to rush the job, and free handing the banner is something I've never been too good at. I want to get this one done right, as it will CERTAINLY stand out among my army (the banner itself being almost 5" tall). I want to make the banner have symbology to match the fluff I've written (and going to write), honoring the different forces that are fighting in the campaign my son and I are playing. I'll post pics one day, as well as the ones I've promised a long time ago now.

Where should I go from here? Any advice or motivation from any direction would be a great help.

 

EDIT: Just saw the new "Bayard's Revenge" model... AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

Edited October 1, 2022 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN

[Brother Christopher]

Oh, boy, do I understand your situation. The major superficial difference between us is that you have several army projects, while I have "one" project (at least intended for one army); however, I don't think our position is that different since painting and assembling 40k miniatures is a time-consuming process, regardless of the shape and intended faction of what these miniatures represent.

I'm honestly sorry to learn about your situation with the post-Knightfall miniatures and your dissatisfaction with the output. Your decision to later strip the paint and the difficulties caused by that sound like something that can really dampen one's spirits however, what's done is done. And I'm sure your decisions to redo the models will turn out to be the right path: even though you might feel that it's disheartening at the moment, when you eventually find the motivation and time to revisit the models, I'm sure you'll be satisfied with the updated results!

Firstly, I recommend that you don't buy anything new until you finish some part of one of your armies. This vague statement is intentionally vague, but I cannot stress how highly I recommend curbing down on new purchases. It's all too easy to buy new stuff; assembling, painting, storing/displaying and using them in a game is way more difficult in the long run.

Secondly, I think that you should try to focus on small portions of the larger army projects for the much-needed morale boost. Finishing the banner bearer seems like the right step - it appears to be a goal attainable in a reasonable time and - with the amount of customisation - should be extremely satisfactory. Remember that large collections, especially for people who are not involved in the current competitive scene, are like a marathon - finishing them WILL take time and effort and sometimes, even though you plough through the consecutive models, you'll find yourself feeling that little or none progress has been made. That's not the case, though.

Thirdly, especially since - I understand - you haven't put too much paint on other forces, try to consider what you like about your collection(s) and keep an open mind for the prospect of selling portions of them, just like with your Tyranids. This should be a deeply introspective process - consider the past and the present, you motivations to buy/collect the models you have in the first place and what you'd like to do with them; think about the prospect of playing 40k, the aesthetics of the models, the space you have to store and/or display them, etc. It's clear that you Black Templars occupy a special place in your collection - stick to that somehow - in a way that feels right to you, and build on whatever positive aspects of the hobby you can find. People keep repeating the same truism that you should focus on the models you like. It's not easy, to do with all the external pressure: GW's marketing, cool-looking models, limited availability, bargain offers, good rules, etc. But after all these years, I think it's true. Keep the models you like! Particularly now, that rules change so often! Think about what you'd like your forces to be and focus on that.

I'm very cynical about the current state of 40k. I think that GW has become a very manipulative company in the last couple of years and doesn't offer much in terms of "support" for their products; i.e. I feel that their primary purpose is to sell you boxes of models and don't care what you do with them. That's why the burden of the more difficult, time- and energy-consuming part of the Warhammer miniature hobby is on our shoulders. That is why presently, I encourage everyone who struggles to find joy (and themselves) in that hobby - or who have a lapse of faith or a period of low motivation - to introspect and embark on a almost-spiritual journey (as opposed to marketing-driven journey of buying news stuff) to find what they expect and derive from the hobby. I am certain that there is no right, universal solution - that's why there's no good advice since we are all different.

I must note that I'd love to see your work on the Titan; however, from my experience, I will recommend something smaller. Please do work on that Ancient!

Oh, and keep doing the fluff bits, too!

[Brother Carpenter]

+1 for Bother Christopher.

Break it down in manageable portions.

Ive abandoned the concept of finishing a squad, and now try to finish one model a time.

Also Id love to start admech, but time money TIME...

Good luck deciding what to do. And iac keep the fluff flowing.

[Marshal Reinhard]

On 10/1/2022 at 8:31 PM, SWORD BROTHER RYAN said:

This ruined the greenstuff work I had done to several of the models, and disheartened me greatly as I now have to go back and redo it all again. Staring at the sea of grey, though, has ruined my motivation to begin again.

This part stings the most to read. While I'm no stranger to stripping models, and have had cases where the stripped model is not quite up to the standard it was when it was freshly assembled, and even had cases where an accident has damaged some models, as I've zero talent with green stuff, i've never been in the situation where my stripping something has removed hours of other work I've already put into something. That's a whole 'nother dimension of pain.

All I can do for motivation is repeat what others have said, do stuff in managable chunks, one model at a time, I myself cut way too many corners when I try to go at it many models at once.

Edited October 3, 2022 by Marshal Reinhard

[Urkh]

As someone with multiple armies myself, ill say i never work on the same army too long. If i paint a squad of templars, i'll move over to a squad of eldar next. Now that i own some necrons of my own (ty to my buddy), i can swap to painting necrons as well. Maybe you can do something similar? Paint a squad of templars, then necrons, do some work on the titan, some templars, some demons, etc. Might help keep things interesting.

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

I like all the advice, brothers! I've been considering doing a small batch of one army or another as Urkh has mentioned, and it's basically my compulsion to not leave work I've already started unfinished that keeps me doing BT most of the time. I think after I finish the Ancient/Banner Bearer, I'll move over to my Knights again for a "pallet cleanser" and see where that takes me.

I do have one "standard Knight" completely done, all weapons magnetized, and after the decal placement, it's one of the most amazing models I've done (not too sure where to post pics of it that would be appropriate for the forum, AdMech seems inappropriate given that it's Questor Imperialis). I have another built, both versions of the 'Big' knights (the harpoon guy and the cannon guy), and two each of the Armiger variations (2 Melta/Cleaver and 2 cannon). It's amazing that 8 models is an army! I also took House Hawkshroud as I can put the cross on them as Oathbound to my BT force. I like that little fluff piece.

The Chaos stuff I have started as just the enemy for my campaign with my son, and grown into a very versatile force. Still trying to figure out what to do with them paint-wise, so that's why they remain grey ATM.

I always wanted to break into Necrons, but restrained way back inn the beginning of my collecting because a friend I used to play against had that army. He's really the one who turned me toward the 'Nids, and I now wish I'd have ignored that advice. I'll be taking Brother Cristophers advice and selling that whole collection off.

I also think I'm going to avoid the temptation to join another painting challenge for a while. It does seem like a good way to blast through a lot of my backlog, but we all know I bit off more than I could chew last time, trying to get the WHOLE backlog done. I knocked out a lot of it, and I'm proud of the work I did. If I do it again, I think I'll be vowing a much smaller portion of the backlog, maybe a squad or two and a vehicle. It's great motivation to get paint on these things, but a bad idea as I feel too much pressure to accomplish it all. 

Thank you all for the support, and don't worry, I'm writing the next fluff piece now. This time, the action is coming!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Ok, so after many months of promising you guys pics, here they are! I really didn't intend to wait this long, but I do hope you'll appreciate the work I put in. In other news, progress has been made on the banner! I'll show that in the next post.

Edited October 23, 2022 by SWORD BROTHER RYAN
I'm tech-dumb!

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

So, as I promised a few weeks ago, this is some of the progress I've made on the First Born Ancient. I really like how it's turning out, and am glad I'm taking my time with it. I decided to keep the overall design a bit on the simple side. The plan is to put the Crusade name and "Black Templars" on the parchment wrapping the reaper, and make the lower banner a campaign icon for "Icarus Prime" representing the loyalist factions fighting for the planet. Tell me what you thnk!

[BLACK BLΠFLY]

Very nice !!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work on the models. The story is well-written, but its depressing atmosphere makes me think the Templars are doomed to LOSE this war; will you alleviate this impression by showing them kicking the butts of the Traitor Marines and the Chaos agent

what I suspect the Inquisitor to be

among them?

 

[SWORD BROTHER RYAN]

Bjorn, believe me when I say that the fight is FAR from over, despite the spoiler I threw in. I will say that (not like it's a secret ATM) that even though they will lose the hive, they still have a whole world to fight on. On top of this, reinforcements are coming (alluded to in the past). It may look bleak right now, but vengeance is in route.

 

As for the Inquisitor... you'll just have to see what happens there.

[Brother Christopher]

You should indeed like how it's turning out, great free-hand - good choice of colours and bits (I've always loved that ornament from the Imperial General). Overall, amazing, Firstborn stuff - I'm looking forward to seeing the model finished.

 

One critique I might have is that the pommel of the sword painted on the banner appears to be slightly too large. I'm making this statement so tentative because after a longer scrutiny, I'm not so sure about whether I have a problem with that or not ;) But my first impression was that the pommel is a bit out of proportion.