'No Impediment to Progress' – The Gatebreakers

[apologist]

Very nice, I like the Gentlings concept a lot. It's also fun to see such a bright colour scheme done grungy, adding to the feeling of degradation that's going on with them.

Thanks very much; and yes – it's certainly quite a jump from the day-glo flat colours to the finish, isn't it?

 

Phew, this is thread and your work keeps developing at a breakneck pace! There really is something to getting that “roguish” thing and the unreliability of the lore of the Rogue Trader era along the framework of the current Dark Imperium / Indomitus lines!

And since you were kind enough to mention that, that thing about the shrines and technosteric sites might be more endemic to Endworld cultures than just the Gatebreakers....

@Apologist: I do not want to interrupt your flow on this but I also dropped a wall of text over PM.

...and replied – sorry, hadn't had a chance to get my thoughts on Chaos in the Endworlds down before. Interested to hear your thoughts. :)

 

"हराया" , yes ? 'Haraayaa'  

I'm mostly familiar with ecclesiastical Sanskrit rather than modern Hindi [and I'm not great with grammar in either] ... but I'm presuming the pun's between हरा (as in 'Green') and हर (as in 'Remover' - although does get figuratively translated as 'Destroyer' ), with shades of "Harry" (as in the English noun and/or name) 

... although a quick google suggests that हराया in modern Hindi may also translate as er .. "Defeated". 

Am I close ?

Too close for comfort :D – and any errors are mine. The left is intended to say 'Breathless' (i.e. lacking breath!); the right 'Lost' or 'Missing'. 

 

 

I appreciate the worldbuilding and character development. 

Always a pleasure :)

 

Regarding Kills, on one hand I like the book and on the other, I'm not sure how I'd interpret it without Indiana Jones and his little notebook providing context for an action-archaeologist. 

Thanks for the feedback. She did go through a stage where she was carrying a crossbow-shotgun (which looked kinda cool, so I might revisit the idea for another model at some point), but I returned to the book in the end – she just felt too combat-focussed. I think the book adds a sense of her duties.

[apologist]

+ Monstrous Servant + 

'Send them then, into the dark places. Into the thorns and hard places, send them; there to bring light to my lost children. Send them to the frontiers of my Imperium. Send them, and suffer them no impediment to progress.' 

 

– Dictate of Imperium (trad.); attributed during Inculcation of Chapter 333 M32 (disp.)

 

+++

 

It was cold, there in the dock. She had stoically endured the cold for half an hour, standing ramrod straight as an occasional Chapter thrall looked at her quizzically, but at last she had started shuffling from one foot to the other, then taken to walking up and down to get the blood moving. Two hours later, she was past blowing into her cupped hands in an attempt to breathe some life into them, and seriously wondering if she was going to lose her fingers. She looked up at the suit, glittering with frost. She had never seen a dreadnought before, and had leapt at Kills' suggestion that she attend the awakening. 

 

She wasn't going to leave because of the cold. You don't make interrogator by backing down from hardship.

 

After another quarter of an hour, a treacherous thought crept through her icy mind. You don't make Inquisitor through dumb endurance, either.

 

She never found out whether she was going to break from her self-imposed torment, as the techmarine Cicinnatus arrived. The Chapter thralls looked up distinterestedly, then got back to work. One waved a hand, half-heartedly, to Cincinnatus as he marched forward. The casual sense of indifference struck Haim as odd, but she had already noted the Gatebreakers' thralls seemed to treat the Astartes with simple respect, rather than the awe that most of Rogue Trader Taiwo's crew had.

 

Haim had spoken with the Primaris techmarine cadre during the long voyage to the Edge. She had bonded well with them – indeed, she and Cincinnatus had struck up a rapport of sorts. 

 

It had not survived the melding of Chapter 333 and the incumbent Chapter. The two had not spoken for months. The details and reasons were not clear to Haim, but she had been privy – thanks to Kills delegating the incept-analysis task to her – to a flurry of missives during the formal induction process, ending with a statement from the collected Gnostics that 'followers of the machine god are not counted amongst the members of the Chapter'.

 

The techmarines had not taken the rejection well.

 

She hailed the techmarine, hesitantly, as he closed the distance. His head snapped up. 

 

'Cincinnatus. Thank you for meeting me.' Her voice trembled, not entirely due to the cold. Helmed, he had looked surly, even aggressive, but she was reassured by the guarded smile revealed as he took his helmet off. Cincinnatus' gleaming bionics were peculiarly reassuring. Haim had grown up on a bonded hiveworld, and augmentation always reminded her of home. 

 

'It has been a long time.' He began. He looked thoughtful as he began work on awakening the ironform. Haim noticed his pauldron was still etched with the 'Chapter 333' temporary heraldry, rather than the mace of the Gatebreakers proper. 

 

They talked for some time, the initial awkwardness gradually giving way to something approaching warmth. She told Cincinnatus of her time away from Andocrine, diplomatically bypassing her interactions with the Gatebreakers. She need not have worried. As he worked, Cincinnatus explained how the techmarines had been sidelined, bypassed and, at last, baldly and directly refused entry to the Chapter's ceremonies. His voice was flat, and clear, unmarred by emotion; but Haim wondered how much was genuine, and how much was self-control. The Astartes, even after months of sharing ship-space, still sometimes felt very alien to her.

 

As she hesitated, wondering whether Kills would want her to probe further, the techmarine straightened up and stepped backwards, rubbing his hands clear of unguent with an oily rag. He turned to her and opened his mouth to speak.

 

+ I remember you. +

 

The words were so deep, so loud, so startling, they made her torso resonate. All at once, Haim quite forgot the cold.

 

 

Cincinnatus looked as surprised as her. The pair looked to the Dreadnought, tracking their gaze up to the war machine's face – or at least where the head would have sat on a human. It spoke again, as it tilted slowly backwards, joints flexing slightly with soft whirring noises, as though testing its limbs.

 

+Not you, Warrior. I remember the red-armoured ones. Tech... Tech... Technicals.+ It seemed to be testing the word out.  +I had not seen your sort for a long time. It has been the robed ones. They usually have more... incense.+

 

There was a pause, during which Cincinnatus rallied somewhat.

 

'Honoured Ancient, I had been anticipating considerable delay in your awakening.'

 

The dreadnought seemingly failed to register that he had spoken. It turned its paralyzing gaze on Haim. The cold rushed back as lenses and reticules shifted and focussed behind the great smoked-glass panels that made up its strange, totemic face.

 

+ I am full of surprises. Have they returned? +

 

'I... I'm...' she started, then got a grip of herself. This is not how an Interrogator acts. 'Who do you mean?' She stole a glance at Cincinnatus, whose flushed face and posture indicated some sort of badly-hidden hyper-aggression. Again, the Dreadnought utterly ignored her question. 

 

+That is why I am awoken. That is why I am always awoken.+

 

Oddly, this stole away the shock. The resignation in the words seemed almost petulant. She straightened, looked up at the Dreadnought, jawline set.

 

'I am Haim, Ordo Propter. Who do you mean?'

 

It remained looking down at her, and as the moment stretched, she suddenly saw how very different this was to a robot. It moved, almost imperceptibly, like a living being; as though some ichorous blood was flowing just beneath the hard carapace. All of a sudden, it had changed: no longer a statue, but invested with a strange vitality. She felt she understood, then, all of a sudden, the curious reticence the Astartes had with utilising Dreadnoughts. It felt like necromancy.

 

She remained, feet set, eyes fixed on the Dreadnought's. Those eyes; those black, sightless, artificial eyes. Cincinnatus fell away. The bay fell away. Only those eyes remained, set in sun yellow and grass green. 

 

+Designation Samaritan. Designation Ghagga-Hakra. The Satraps. Designation Uridimmu. The rest. Has the Master been informed? They have returned. I know it. I don't know why I ask every time.+

 

Haim swallowed. She thought she had better send for Kills. She would want to hear this. The Dreadnought straightened, and swung its arms out. It paused, as though considering, or consulting. As Haim turned, she saw the Chapter serfs had all prostrated themselves in place.

 

+Every time.+

 

It reached out to Cincinnatus, who stepped back to let the Dreadnought pass. It wasn't that, though. The Dreadnought touched his shoulder, as though confirming things. 

 

+Hm. Interesting to see you. Technical.+

 

The techmarine nodded, as though stunned. The dreadnought began to walk, slowly, haltingly. It continued to talk all the while, as though limbering up. Perhaps it was.

 

+And not just me, Haim of the Ordo Propter. It's as this ironform remembers it; back to when it was emblazoned with silver stars, bedecked in the coral pink and turquoise of lost oceans. They've always been here. I trust you have brought a weapon.+

 

Haim changed her mind. She thought she had better go and get Kills. 

 

You don't make Interrogator by keeping things from Inquisitors, after all.

 

+++

[Nomus Sardauk]

It's as this ironform remembers it; back to when it was emblazoned with silver stars, bedecked in the coral pink and turquoise of lost oceans.

 

Edited August 21, 2020 by Nomus Sardauk

[apologist]

+ Painting the Dreadnought +

 

'The dreadnought' might be slightly impersonal, but I haven't come up with a name for our nearly-departed hero yet. I wasn't expecting him to have as much character as emerged during his story!

 

The approach I used for the dreadnought was all-but identical to that for the infantry: lay in the flat colours (Flash Gitz Yellow and Warpstone Glow), then lay a burnt sienna oil wash over them before developing the highlights.

 

 

The freehand is fairly stripped-back; simple black and white icons and text. I used some Sanskrit – and apologies for dubious translation – to get in some tongue-in-cheek puns; reading 'Dead' and 'Lost/Missing'

 

 

 

I didn't want to overload the freehand, despite the inviting large flat surfaces, as the quartered scheme already makes him busier than he otherwise would be. I might return to add a banner.

 

 

I painted the eyes gloss black. I wanted them to look deep, soulful – and dead. The ghoulish use of crippled marines is horrifying, if you take a moment to think about it, and I didn't want the Dreadnought to be too closely aligned to the infantry, instead acting as a midway point between human and warmachine. Dead black eyes seemed a nice way of doing that, making it appear almost cadavorous.

 

 

The back received a hint of the orange accent colour used elsewhere, and I hinted at some discoloration of the exhaust's heat shield.

 

 

The bulbous oval blisters on the front of the shoulders seemed a good place for a nameplate. I sat this in a little cartouche, to give a slight Ancient Egyptian hint. 

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Monstrous Servant is well-written. The Dreadnought is well done; is it an actual 1st Edition metal model, or a plastic/resin reproduction from a third party?

[WAR]

Wow

[Lexington]

My favorite part of this fiction is how it feels like we’re getting a bunch of little pieces of something that doesn’t quite add up to anything as direct as a novel, but definitely tells a story and builds a world. Reminds me of the best pieces of RT and 2nd Edition. Bravo, man. Edited August 22, 2020 by Lexington

[Xin Ceithan]

My favorite part of this fiction is how it feels like we’re getting a bunch of little pieces of something that doesn’t quite add up to anything as direct as a novel, but definitely tells a story and builds a world. Reminds me of the best pieces of RT and 2nd Edition. Bravo, man.

This!

 

..is going to be good ;)

 

The Dreadnaught would be quite the looker already. But the fiction is really supreme. Very well done.

[KBA]

Love your fluff and conversions. The painting is serious eye candy as well! You’ve really dialed in on nailing the small things that make everything work and then some. This blog is a massive inspiration :) Edited August 22, 2020 by KBA

[Ironwrought Huw]

 [+supplementary request>? WOULDYOULIKETOKNOWMORE+]

 

 

 

There must be something wrong with my cogitator unit. I'm hammering selecting the [CONFIRM:YES] key, but nothing happens... 

 

The weathering you've done on the dreadnought is particularly nice - it actually looks like a functional piece of machinery. Well-worn having seen it's fair share of action on countless battlefields, but it is obviously maintained and looked after. 

 

The glossy black eyes are a very nice touch too - it definitely gives the model an imposing and sinister atmosphere (especially when combined with that delicious lore you wrote...) 

[Ryltar Thamior]

 

 

 

The freehand is fairly stripped-back; simple black and white icons and text. I used some Sanskrit – and apologies for dubious translation – to get in some tongue-in-cheek puns; reading 'Dead' and 'Lost/Missing'

 

 

Wasn't that dubious - Sanskrit is one of *those* languages wherein ~four thousand years plus various of the people involved literally being er .. in different states of mind .. means that nailing down precise meaning-fields for this or that term is going to get complex. Hence why we have so many in-depth commentaries and guides prepared a few decades or centuries after the original texts - because somebody *realized* that it was going to take several paragraphs of explication to actually get across the proper sense of a few words in one line, here and there. 

 

Anyway, Unsolicited Indo-European Mytholinguistic Trivia aside ... i read that line around "'Dead' and 'Lost/Missing'" and it *suddenly* hit me .... 

 

Dead-Missing/Removed 

Missing/Removed as in ... 'Nought' 

 

He's called Dead-Nought ! 

 

BAHAHAHAHA! 

 

YOU WERE NOT KIDDING ABOUT THE ROGUE TRADER ERA ESQUE PUNS! WELL *DONE* SIR ! 

 

[also, thanks to you, I am now probably going to spend awhile working out reasonably direct Sanskrit semi-translations for various Imperial terms , for Adamanticores / Hara Barazaiti usage. This happened because I thought I'd take a stab at actually just rendering 'Dreadnought' to see how it came out, and wound up with 'Ghora-Shunya' - which sounds pretty decent, although is more of a 'Terror-Void' rather than an "I Dread Nought" .. because this sounded cooler than just translating 'Fearless', and opens the door to some rather intriguing conceptual possibilities. ]

 

Anyway, well done again on the pun. It was in the best tradition of old-school GW - insofar as it really did creep up on me and then smack me in the head a day or two later. Keep it up!

[apologist]

Monstrous Servant is well-written. The Dreadnought is well done; is it an actual 1st Edition metal model, or a plastic/resin reproduction from a third party?

Thanks, Bjorn. It's a fan-sculpt that I was offered a couple of years ago. It's about twice the size of the original; comparable to a modern Contemptor dread. Really fun little piece; tweaked the nostalgia glands!

 

Wow

Thank you!

 

My favorite part of this fiction is how it feels like we’re getting a bunch of little pieces of something that doesn’t quite add up to anything as direct as a novel, but definitely tells a story and builds a world. Reminds me of the best pieces of RT and 2nd Edition. Bravo, man.

A lovely compliment; and glad it's evoking the era. I ought to be clear that while I have a (very!) loose idea of the setting, the story is carrying itself along. There are a couple of pre-planned 'nodes' that the Gatebreakers will arrive at, but besides that, I want their real-life games to define their history.

 

This!..is going to be good

The Dreadnaught would be quite the looker already. But the fiction is really supreme. Very well done.

Cheers Xin – and I've replied to your PM; really cool ideas!

 

Love your fluff and conversions. The painting is serious eye candy as well! You’ve really dialed in on nailing the small things that make everything work and then some. This blog is a massive inspiration

Cheers KBA – I found your recent work really haunting: I wish I had thought of that punishment for your librarian. Still giving me a shudder now! If any readers haven't seen KBA's blog here on the B&C, go check it out tout suite.

 

 

 [+supplementary request>? WOULDYOULIKETOKNOWMORE+]

There must be something wrong with my cogitator unit. I'm hammering selecting the [CONFIRM:YES] key, but nothing happens... 

 

The weathering you've done on the dreadnought is particularly nice - it actually looks like a functional piece of machinery. Well-worn having seen it's fair share of action on countless battlefields, but it is obviously maintained and looked after. 

 

The glossy black eyes are a very nice touch too - it definitely gives the model an imposing and sinister atmosphere (especially when combined with that delicious lore you wrote...) 

Thanks for the comments on the painting; and rest assured there's more spooling up as we speak (er... write?)

 

He's called Dead-Nought ! 

BAHAHAHAHA! 

YOU WERE NOT KIDDING ABOUT THE ROGUE TRADER ERA ESQUE PUNS! WELL *DONE* SIR ! 

 

[also, thanks to you, I am now probably going to spend awhile working out reasonably direct Sanskrit semi-translations for various Imperial terms , for Adamanticores / Hara Barazaiti usage. This happened because I thought I'd take a stab at actually just rendering 'Dreadnought' to see how it came out, and wound up with 'Ghora-Shunya' - which sounds pretty decent, although is more of a 'Terror-Void' rather than an "I Dread Nought" .. because this sounded cooler than just translating 'Fearless', and opens the door to some rather intriguing conceptual possibilities. ]

 

Anyway, well done again on the pun. It was in the best tradition of old-school GW - insofar as it really did creep up on me and then smack me in the head a day or two later. Keep it up!

 

Hee hee – thanks Ryltar!

 

 

It's as this ironform remembers it; back to when it was emblazoned with silver stars, bedecked in the coral pink and turquoise of lost oceans.

 

 

Oh, I couldn't possibly...

 

Could I?

[BadgersinHills]

Very lovely stuff. Adore the dreadnought, going to be approaching my Space Wolves dreadnought differently taking the feeling of the dreadnought from your fluff. :) 

[apologist]

To battle!

 

 

The force has now reached a size where I can play games *toots party hooter*, so the force will begin its Crusade imminently.

 

 

 

Keep an eye out for a battle report soon.

Edited August 26, 2020 by apologist

[WAR]

So nice

[Doghouse]

That is a really nice group shot, very uniform despite the small differences between individual models.

[Yosef Hausakluif]

Your force looks great and the accompanying literary pieces are really fleshed out and well written! Love the use of oils for weathering on the Dred, thanks for sharing that with us. I’m going to be trying a similar effect and coincidentally similar color scheme on an upcoming mantis warriors project. Thanks for inspiration!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

A fine army. The weathering is well-applied on your models.

[apologist]

Thanks all. At this point, I think it'll be worth introducing some different unit types, to prevent the army becoming too much of a mass of identikit troops. I like the uniform feel, but an accent or two – in the shape of some distinct visual flair (say a banner, or a few models with obviously different equipment, or a vehicle or two) will go some way to giving the army as a whole a good visual hook.

 

Talking of vehicles, the Land Raider has crept back onto my desk and is receiving some paint, as are a few additional infantry.

 

Yes, call it inertia, but even when I decide to paint something other than infantry, it takes me a little while to change track. At least these marines are in slightly more dynamic poses!

 

Rather than using the Assault Intercessors as intended, I'm going to be arming these five (along with three Hellblaster bodies) with boltguns, to be scattered amongst the existing squads. That'll give me a nice variety within the three 'big squads', and minimise duplication. In turn, if I decide to do actual Assault Intercessors, they'll use a mix of different kits.

[BadgersinHills]

Looking forward to the Land Raider and Intercessors. I really like the idea of Gatebreaker Assault Intercessors but that's my love for chainsword marines speaking. 

[apologist]

+ Massacre at Phen Mun +

 

 

(A little prelude to the battle report – up soon – to which I'll attach some first thoughts on Crusade gaming. Had a blast!)

 

+++

 

Phen Mun was breathtaking. The lighter was still high up, but the Kills and her team had buckled in and opened the door, to 'let in the the world a little', as Brunski put it. It was a habit he'd inherited from his previous life; a habit Kills indulged as much for the team's morale as the chance to breathe fresh air for a change. The wind whistled and buffeted the passengers, who sat quietly, enjoying the changing pressure and freshness of the new world.

 

From the peninsula where the open sea began, all the way inland along the river's trail, the water was tinged a beautiful pink in the descending sun. Rich red soil was covered with thick grasses that bloomed into vigorous woodland as the Arvus continued its journey. Kills looked over the eight of them, nodding to herself.

 

She tugged on the fabric cable, checking the carabiner was secure against the rail, then stood and walked to the rear of the passenger hold. Her poncho whipped and cracked in the wind as she leaned over, one foot perched precariously on the edge. Reaching a hand out of the back of the shuttle, she tilted herself further, looking down on the trail racing past below.

 

'You'd hardly know there was a war going on, eh?'

 

+++

 

 

The faceless nature of their warhelms, along with their sheer bulk, lent credence to the ancient claim of Astartes being the immortal and invincible champions of mankind. They were filled with the same vitality and aggression that Brunksi had emulated as a child.

 

The Inquisitorial aide was an experienced and resourceful man in his own right; ex-Guard, ex-mercenary. He knew his strengths as a warrior. The Astartes were everything he had aspired to be as a young man: unbreakable, self-reliant, surrounded by comrades so like-minded that they operated as one.

 

Now he had seen them fight firsthand; driving the strange disc-shaped xenos vessels from the coreward reaches of Sector Surpalus. He had revelled in their power; feeling a curious mix of inadequacy and glee at how his species' champions had so completely outmatched and outclassed the grey-skinned creatures.

 

Now he had seen them recruiting, he realised what such unbridled power could lead to. 

 

Now he was a man, Brunski shivered, and wondered how he had ever thought of the Astartes as heroes. 

 

He rubbed his hand over his neck, ruefully, as he saw another Chapter thrall leading a ragged line of collared and shackled inhabitants of Gang Maoy along the paved road towards the waiting lander. Several were maimed. He forced himself not to turn away, to meet their gaze. That was the price of being part of an Inquisitor's party: you had to face the tasks others wouldn't.

 

'Joyous be those who volunteer for service; for they shall be happy slaves. Sorrow to those who attempt to parley or shirk, for that is punishable by slavery' The Divine had quoted, after seeing Brunski's discomfort. It was a saying, or edict, or mediation of another of the Gatebreakers' interminable poetasters. Brunski and Haim had long tired of the Astartes' self-justification. It seemed obscene in its superfluity. What could a man do in the face of the Astartes? There was little choice here; merely slavery of different stripes, abject or self-deluding. 

 

He looked again at the faces of the 'recruits'. The first had his nose broken, his eyes swollen near-shut. Brunski felt a pang of guilt at how thankful he was the youth could not meet his gaze. The second and third were dismal, their heads cast down. The fourth appeared almost manic, the eyes in his flat, hairless face bulging.

 

For no reason he could fathom, Brunski reached out to the youth, who turned to him. The third part of the Gentle's catechism came back to him as their gazes met.

 

'Honour to those who resist; for they sow the seeds of their own ascension.'

 

+++

 

Every so often, she or one of her detail would spit out a mouthful of the red insect-analogues and curse. It was hot, and Haim was sweaty, and the damn bastard flies made her twitch involuntarily. Trail discipline was non-existent for the Andocrines – they were either wide-eyed and twitchy on sparkies, or chewing handfuls of nummer alongside their anti-mals and enviro-adaptive meds. 

 

Every so often, as they bunched up, Jenette would appear, as though from nowhere, and hiss at them to keep their spacings. Haim's admiration for the Catachan had long curdled into resentment. The trailblazer seemed to be enjoying the patrol.

 

'Killing a leech,' she'd said, back at the camp, a lho-stick dipping up and down as she spoke. It hadn't been clear whether it was a boast, a suggestion, or a question. 'Won't get no second chance.'

 

Now Haim had witnessed the results of the infection on Phen Mun, she wasn't at all sure even Jenette would be safe. 

 

+++

 

+ Market district, prior to the Massacre. +

 

 

Castaway stood on the low hill overlooking the market square. Having volunteered for the urban observation – the thought of all that greenery had made him sick – he had quickly grown to regret his decision. Posted with the Astartes, he'd been variously ignored, laughed at and ordered to silence by the marines. It didn't sit well with his temper, but he was canny enough to recognise that reacting would only end one way.

 

The squat could see that the township had, perhaps, once been quite beautiful; the older indigenous architecture and town plan integrated and sitting pleasingly alongside the soaring, dominant presence of the Standard Template buildings. In his mind's eye, he could see a pleasant riverside town – but now it was wrecked. Not by the Astartes – that at least was a small mercy for the populace – but by some internal war. The Gatebreakers' presence wasn't helping, however. The Space Marines were being treated like invading aliens rather than valued guardians; the populace fleeing and hiding whenever rumours of the Gatebreakers broke out.

 

Politics, thought Castaway, ruefully chewing his lip; though he understood that an army appearing without warning and demanding a tithe of the world's best and brightest wasn't the most stabilising or reassuring approach. From Kill's briefing, the Gatebreakers hadn't recruited from Phen Mun for decades – but something was different this time. Something quite insidious had got into the population: and it wasn't the familiar clean fear of power; but a malignant, insidious influence...

 

Tunnel-crawlers, he thought, the very name making him feel small, and vulnerable. He shuddered. His knuckles whitened around his shotgun, and he hurried back to the Astartes' lines. Something serious had come up on the long-range auspex, and he had very little desire to be anywhere too far away from the Gatebreakers when it arrived.

 

+++

 

+ Gatebreakers engage the enemy on Phen Mun +

Edited August 28, 2020 by apologist

[Shovellovin]

Excellent write-up! I look forward to this continuing. You're plogs are always well thought out and, as others have stated, remind me of stuff written by GW in 2nd and 3rd edition. 

 

I especially enjoyed:

 

 

Now he was a man, Brunski shivered, and wondered how he had ever thought of the Astartes as heroes. 

Early 40K was really good at reminding the reader that Astarters are super-human not super-heroes. You too have captured that difference.

[apologist]

 

Running battles; dozens of them. The Church had become increasingly bold in recent weeks, and reports were coming in of attacks on numerous checkpoints, hillsides and strongholds. Many supposedly secure bunker complexes had been overrun – and more alarminngly, this was often through sheer force of arms rather than the subterfuge that had been the Church's modus operandi prior to the Mun Offensive. 

 

The Gatebreakers had fought the corporaptors before – Gnostic Tsenpo had consulted the records, and knew the clearest route to victory lay in killing the group's forefather; which would badly disrupt the group's abilities in both short- and long-term. Of course, this necessitated finding the accursed thing first...

 

Phen Mun was an outlying township, near the coast. It had suffered badly during the war as the two sides tried to strangle river traffic. Prepared for one of the short, vicious firefights that had characterised the war since the Mun Offensive – at which the Space Marines had proved ruinously successful – the Gatebreakers were wrong-footed by the appearance of the so-called All-Father and his elite forces in the region. 

 

Lacking the materiel and transport to track the beast, Tsenpo launched a desperate attempt to assassinate the creature before it could escape. The resulting engagement was short and brutal.

 

+++ 

+ Game type and Mission +

This is a foray into the new Narrative 'Crusade' style of gaming; which seems to be a more developed version of the way our group has played since... well, forever. We opted for a 35PL game, which pushed us into the Incursion level – which is characterful jargon that basically means we wanted a fairly small game with a little space for fun stuff besides the basics.

 

We opted for Supply Cache, which looked simple and approachable. The opposing forces would be scrabbling over four objectives. Unlike previous editions, you could build up points during the game (rather than just at the end), which we hoped would mean early engagement and less of a last-minute grab.

 

+ Players and armies +

Bob Hunk would be fielding the insidious Church of Cosmic Wisdom, an apostolic and energetic missionary group who – sadly for the Imperium – are energetically 'improving' mankind on the Edgeworlds by converting them into half-alien horrors!

• The All-Father: Genestealer Patriarch [Warlord]
• Brother Onderghast: Iconward
• The Cosmic Children: Purestrains
• The Enlightened Circle: Acolytes
• Kreen's Wisdom Seekers: Neophytes
• Narek's Prayer Circle: Neophytes
• Truck 01: Goliath

The members of the Church are Devoted Zealots – that is, they use the Pauper Princes rules, which grants them the ability to re-roll hit rolls for attacks made with Melee Weapons under certain circumstances. +

 

apologist – that is, me – would field the Gatebreakers Strikeforce IX:

• Gnostic Tsenpo: Primaris Lieutenant [Warlord]
• Eremite Ysaak Rama: Primaris Chaplain
• Gentle: Space Marine: Primaris Apothecary
• Thunderhead: ten-strong Intercessor squad with auto bolt rifles.
• Hook Echo: five-strong Intercessor squad with stalker bolt rifles.
• Cloudbreaker: five-strong Intercessor squad with auto bolt rifles.

The Gatebreakers Chapter Tactics are Rapid Assault, which allows them to ignore the penalty for moving and firing assault weapons, and Stalwart, which means their posthuman bodies never take damage on less than 3, regardless of the attacker's strength. +

 

+++

+ Terrain and Agendas +

The district was typical of the winding streets of the city; bombed-out Imperial-style buildings hurriedly put back into use for storage of food and essentials. Both sides were running thin on supplies, and securing the area would be a boon to the victors. Besides this, the Church were keen to deploy vox-relays to increase the propaganda they could transmit; and had standing orders to assassinate any personalities.

 

 

Bob Hunk's choice of Agendas meant the cult could spend a turn erecting vox-speakers on any objectives they captured. These would remain in place unless the Gatebreakers could capture the objective, in which case they'd deactivate or tear them down. Assassins meant that units would gain 2 experience points for each Gatebreaker character they managed to bring down.

 

The unknowing Gatebreakers, meanwhile, were conducting sweep-and-clear operations, with orders to clear and secure the area. Cull the Hordes would give units 1 experience point every time they killed 6 or more models in one round. Secure the Area meant an infantry unit could spend a turn securing an area near the centre of the battlefield; gaining experience points equal to the number of times they managed to do this over the course of the mission.

 

After placing the objective markers, Bob Hunk won the roll-off and picked the northern flank (left of picture above). +

 

+++

 

+ Opening turns +

+ Picking up multiple readings on their auspices, the Gatebreakers broke into a combat jog, cradling their weapons and advancing quickly. Cloudbreaker moved up on the west, while Hook Echo occupied the small central ruin alongside Tsenpo and the Gentle. +

 

 

+ At Tsenpo's urging, both combat squads of Thunderhead raced forwards on the eastern flank, alongside Eremite Rama. The broad deployment of forces would hinge around the powerful stalker bolt rifles of Hook Echo. +

 

 

+ Cloudbreaker reported sightings of the enemy, and closed to the edge of the ruin, which obscured their sights. +

 

 

+ Inside, the Wisdom Seekers were busy erecting one of the church's accursed vox-posts, under Kreen's gimlet-eyed supervision. A number looked about them warily, their inhuman sense perhaps raising their suspicions. Were they observed? +

 

+ Urgently, Cloudbreaker reported an anomlous return on the auspex... Something much bigger than cultists... +

 

 

+ Corporators! The four-armed fiends were accompanying the grandsire of the whole cult. Tsenpo swiftly revised his plans... +

 

+ Their comrades' keen eyes gave Thunderhead perfect triangulation, and in a hail of fire, supported by Tsenpo's own master-crafted bolt rifle, the genestealers were torn to shreds. As the smoke and gore cleared, The snarling All-Father appeared unharmed and hissing in defiance. +

 

[This rather startling beginning to the Gatebreakers' story was a particularly fortuitous combination of the Chaplain's Recitation of Focus (+1 to hit), the Lieutenant's proximity (allowing them to re-roll To Wound rolls of 1), the Chapter trait Rapid Assault, which mean there was no detriment to the assault Bolt Rifles for moving, and the sheer number of shots going downfield. I think both Bob Hunk and I were a bit taken aback!]

 

 

+ As Cloudbreaker turned back to the Wisdom Seekers, one of the Members-Ordinary thought he spotted the Patriarch approaching... +

 

 

+ This overview doesn't show the eastern part of the battlefield, where Thunderhead and the Eremite were closing in on Narek's Prayer Circle, who were closing on the third objective. The Gatebreakers have had a strong start, wiping out a dangerous elite unit, and heavily damaging the Goliath with Hook Echo's Stalker Bolt Rifles. +

 

[space Marines infantry certainly kick out a lot of damage with the most recent Codex. Being heavy, the Stalker Bolt Rifles were kicking out long range fire that caused two damage per hit, and were causing -2 to the tank's armour saves thanks to the Devastator Doctrine.]

 

 

+ Racing over to the west with terrifying speed, the All-Father's psychic might licked out, dazing and hypnotising the marines of Cloudbreaker. +

 

 

 

+ As his children began to spit out largely ineffectual gunfire against the armoured giants, the All-Father leapt into combat; his mighty claws tearing into the staggered Astartes, who possessed enough presence of mind to back off. +

 

[An unfortunate set of attack rolls on the All-Father's part were further offset by my use of the stratagem Transhuman Physiology, which meant only one Space Marine fell to the Patriarch's claws. Their own return attacks did nothing. ]

 

 

+ Tsenpo ordered Thunderhead to continue advancing on the central objective as the Eremite broke off to the east, the warrior long-used to fighting alone. +

 

 

+ The damaged Truck 01 continued to spit out fire, but a combination of poor aim and the Gatebreaker's heavy armour prevented any casualties. +

 

+++

 

[+SPOOLING+]

Edited September 2, 2020 by apologist

[BadgersinHills]

Go Gatebreakers!!!!! Woo!!! Kick their alien butts! 

[Torbenos]

Really happy to see the Gatebreakers in the field again, quite a treat to be invested in another's project like this.