SonofCarnelian's Imperial Fists / 9.14 Leviathan Terminators

[Son of Carnelian]

 

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Quintus let the slightest sigh escape his lips and he watched the coldness of the air trace the outline of his breath. He could hear the rain pattering across what little remained of the building’s roof. He found it calming. The arrhythmic sound helped clear his thoughts in the remaining moments before his squad would strike. For three days, he and his fellow Eliminators waited inside one of the only buildings that still overlooked the city’s main roadway. Before the Tyranids landed in force and began reshaping the planet with their foul biology, the roadway bore the name “Petitioner's Lane.” But any petitioners who once walked these streets fled long ago or suffered worse fates at the hands of the city’s new occupants.

The Eliminator sergeant could hear the xenos moving below on the street. The telltale click of Tyranid claws on the shattered masonry set his teeth on edge. Their corruption offended him and he could feel sheer hate pulsing behind his eyes. For three days, Quintus’ squad had watched the aliens construct and grow their horrible breeding pools all across the city. Lesser forms, with the sheen of birthing fluid still coating their skin, streamed out of these organic factories constantly. The screeching never ceased. The enemy chittered and screamed of a victory that the Imperial Fists would soon deny them.

The largest of these breeding pools sat across the lane from their building. If the swarm required it, the pool could create massive creatures capable of matching a tank in size and firepower. Quintus and his men knew this from their briefing before deploying three days ago. The briefing where the Captain of the Fifth asked that they bear the indignity of waiting inside an occupied city, watching the foe corrupt it, and not firing a single shot until a high value target revealed itself. Miserable work by the standards of any warrior. But Squad Quintus obeyed and waited. They waited for the thunder.

Then the thunder came. And the sky opened.

Thunderhawk Gunships in the bright yellow livery of the Imperial Fists appeared suddenly through the clouds and rushed towards the ground. Smaller craft danced in front of them and rained death down on the flying Tyranid forms that swarmed up towards them. The Eliminators watched their brothers descend to the planet wreathed in steel and with their colors born proudly. Quintus kept his misgivings to himself and turned back towards the Tyranid pool.

The surface of the pool began bubbling with gestation and Quintus motioned for his two brothers. The knelt on either side of him, las fusils at the ready and steadied on the broken windows that looked out across the lane. Something massive took shape in the alien structure below them. Even in a half-formed state, Quintus could tell that the creature could easily crush an Astartes underfoot with its sheer weight. A pulsating cannon formed along the creature’s spine and it gave an ear-splitting roar of pain as the hive mind of the Tyranids spontaneously rewrote its genetic makeup.

Quintus motioned the word for “wait” in battle-sign. His hands tensed as he did so. After three days, condemning his brothers to waiting for even another second felt like cruelty of the highest order. But as the beast below emerged from the fluid that birthed it, Quintus finally loosed his hand and pointed directly at the Tyranid monstrosity. At this command, the two Eliminators beside him opened up with a volley of shots from their las fusils. Beams of white-hot energy sprang forth from the barrels of their guns and punctured the newborn creature faster than the eye could track. The beams both penetrated and cooked the Tyranid. Quintus watched with no small satisfaction as the beast’s many eyes began to boil and then burst from the las fusils’ heat. It made one last whimper of pain and then fell to the ground with a thud.

The comm unit in Quintus’ ear buzzed with static for a moment before a voice commenced speaking.

“You did well, brothers. We have landed. Regroup with us at the main gate to the city. The Tyranids’ infection ends here.”

At those words, Quintus felt his muscles relax. The tension of the three-day wait left him at the knowledge that his brothers safely made planetfall. He released another quiet sigh as his brothers ritualistically checked their weapons. After they finished their inspections, Quintus motioned towards his two fellow Eliminators and they all began the long walk down towards the Petitioner’s Lane.

Edited September 14, 2023 by Son of Carnelian

[Pearson73]

That's some solid clean paintwork, nice bit of background too.

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work.

[Yosef Hausakluif]

Love the subdued scheme on the Fists ! Works really well for their role.

[Chaplain Mollusc]

Impeccably executed, frater. Bravo.

[Dosjetka]

Very much enjoyed the fluff; the models look great, too. :tu:

 

What can we expect to see next?

[MithrilForge]

excellent work ...on both fronts 

 

Mithril

[Son of Carnelian]

Lysor could perfectly remember every detail about the moment he first donned his Aggressor armor. At the time, he stood apart as the youngest Astartes ever awarded the honor in the brief time since the Lord Commander Guilliman introduced the role of Aggressor. He recalled the smell of the blessed oils of the Mechanicum still caked onto the surface and how it stung his nostrils. Lysor knew for certain that this would see him at the fore of every conflict, cleaving apart the enemy with boltstorm fire and massive fists.

Now he instead stood practically immobile in front of a ruined gateway into a deserted city, killing the smallest of Tyranid organisms as they attempted a futile counterattack against the Imperial Fists’ invasion force. With a sigh, Lysor swung his right fist forward and pulped the head of another Tyranid. The xeno’s brief scream bled into the constant cacophony of squealing and roaring all around the Aggressors. The 5th Company had made precious little towards the city since their landing hours earlier, but breaking the enemy counter-assault would theoretically give them a reprieve.

Another wave of Tyranids ran out from the cover of a shattered building and put more doubt on that theory. Lysor turned to Sergeant Makarov for orders but the veteran merely shook his head and fired another burst from his boltstorm gauntlets. The younger Astartes turned back towards the enemy and smashed aside another Tyranid that rushed towards him.

“This is not a duty for a son of Dorn,’ he grumbled into the squad’s shared vox. ‘This is a task for a janitorial servitor.”

A laugh sounded in Lysor’s ear and he instinctively knew that it came from the third member of the squad, Nidus. He grit his teeth at the mockery.

“Here we are, cleansing a world, and all you can think about is your own glory? Shameful.”

Nidus punctuated his point by raking his fire patterns across more Tyranid chaff that now swarmed towards them. The lesser creatures burst at the impact of his shells but Nidus gave no sign that he noticed his kills at all. Lysor chided at this clear and demonstrable rebuke.

“It’s not glory that occupies my mind, brother. This is simply not the proper application of force.”

Nidus laughed again, though with more darkness beneath the sound this time. Lysor never heard anyone else make laughter so threatening.

“Oh? Apparently I was asleep when they promoted you to Captain!”

Lysor felt his choler still rising and he knew it needed release. Striking out with his left hand, he grabbed a Tyranid attempting a sidestep attack against him. The xeno stood no chance against Lysor’s immense gauntlet and struggled pointlessly against his augmented grip. The Imperial First swiftly tore the squirming creature into two parts, which fountained out gore all across his Gravis Armor. Where an unarmored human would have suffered severe chemical burns across their entire body from such a deluge, the acidic blood merely eroded some of Lysor’s paint. With his armor still hissing from the chemicals, he turned towards Nidus.

“You know I’m right, Nidus. We should hunt the enemy’s largest beasts! Not stand in place like impassive turrets.”

Finally, Sergeant Makarov chimed in over the vox. His voice sounded low and hollow, due to a throat burned nearly all the way through in a conflict long since won.

“Enough, Lysor. We are the foundation upon which the defense rests. We were ordered here and that will be enough until we are ordered elsewhere.”

A bellowing, throaty roar drowned out any further rebuke. The Tyranid swarm parted for the emergence of a massive beast from underground. Dirt and pieces of ruined masonry showered across the battlefield. As the debris fell, Lysor could see that the creature’s snake-like body ended at the top in a mouth filled with oversized and unnaturally sharp teeth. It roared again towards the heavens before diving forward towards Lysor.

The young Astartes brought his arm up for a strike and allowed himself the faintest smile.

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Thank you for the kind words, everyone! The reception here to my Eliminators last month was honestly incredibly gratifying. I admit I wavered in my love for the B&C during the dark days of this summer, but to see so many of my betters write such nice things meant more to me than any amount of likes on social media.

Very much enjoyed the fluff; the models look great, too.

What can we expect to see next?

I hope this answers your question, brother! I'm looking forward to painting the Indomitus Chaplain next. He's a beautiful model and I'm excited to return to my black armor recipe.

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work on the Aggressors. The short story is well-written, but Lysor's pride, desire for personal glory, and disdain for his current duty are worrying; he's not going to succumb to Slaanesh (due to his pride), Khorne (his desire for martial glory), or Tzeentch (his apparent desire for power) in the future, is he?

[BadgersinHills]

Lovely painting and story. Would love to see a character! Keep up your good stuff. 

[noigrim]

Probably the only story where the fists don't die horribly (yet!)

[Son of Carnelian]

"To serve in the 5th Company means to serve as the living legacy of the Imperial Fists. We wear the colors that the legion once wore. We carry their swords and shields into battle. Our past carves out a future for mankind in this galaxy." - Lt. Mendez of the Imperial Fists 5th Company

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Excellent work on the Aggressors. The short story is well-written, but Lysor's pride, desire for personal glory, and disdain for his current duty are worrying; he's not going to succumb to Slaanesh (due to his pride), Khorne (his desire for martial glory), or Tzeentch (his apparent desire for power) in the future, is he?

Thank you for your feedback! I confess, you've put more thought into Lysor's character than I did. I just like humanizing the Space Marines a bit more than their official depictions. I like it when they get irritated, argue, express genuine joy outside of battle, etc. I certainly have no intention of taking Lysor down such a damned path.

Lovely painting and story. Would love to see a character! Keep up your good stuff.

Thank you so much! And hey, there's a character for you!

Probably the only story where the fists don't die horribly (yet!)

They only die horribly when I play against my brother's Salamanders. He is merciless. Cheers!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work on LT Mendez's model.

[noigrim]

Ah that makes more sense

[BadgersinHills]

Lovely stuff!!

[Son of Carnelian]

Lytanus couldn't move any part of his body below his neck. This both distressed and confused him because he could still feel an immense amount of pain from the rebar lodged in his chest. He tried moving his right arm, but nothing even twitched. He grit his teeth and let out a grunt of frustration.

He knew that his primary heart no longer functioned, but even that catastrophic realization felt like an understatement. The piece of rusted metal sticking through Lytanus ran all the way through to his back and out the other side. He could dimly perceive the blood pooling on his chest and dribbling out of the corners of his mouth.

For a moment, he spared a thought for the indignity of the whole situation. Here lay a son of Dorn, run through and bleeding out from a simple piece of unused building material. He dwelled on this for a single moment. Then he ceased thinking about his shame and began working through possible solutions.

His helmet's systems still worked and he gave silent thanks to the Emperor for that fact. He dared not open his jaw, in case the blood gathering in his mouth proved enough to flood his helmet. He blink-clicked through a few sub-systems in his Mk. X armor. After what felt like an eternity, Lytanus activated his armor's inbuilt distress beacon.

Now came the waiting. Either his brothers would find him quickly and he might live, or his brothers would not find him in time and they would retrieve his geneseed. The uncertainty weighed heavily on Lytanus' mind. He began mentally reciting passages from the Codex Astartes as a means of passing the time. After a few stanzas, he gave up and instead began watching as his armor's inbuilt clock slowly ticked towards his unknown fate.

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Just a simple objective marker today. At the beginning of 2019, I had every intention of starting a Black Legion force, so I bought Haarken Worldclaimer. Though that project lies still in wormy earth, the Worldclaimer's scenic base gained second life as an Imperial Fist casualty! I had lots of fun experimenting with different technical paints on this one and getting the blood splatter just right. As always, C&C appreciated!

[MithrilForge]

Ouch...that's going to leave a scar for sure... ,

 

great work as always and the stories help us connect to it even more … before it was simply an Objective marker..., now it's Stoic Brother Lytanus who we hope will be saved by his comrades,  ...

 

excellent painting on him and the character too 

 

cheers, Mithril

[Son of Carnelian]

"Captain Khârn of the World Eaters once opined that the Legiones Astartes’ greatest strength lay in our endurance. Wrong. Our strength lies in our brotherhood. No other fighting force in human history can claim the same confidence that I have in my battle-brothers. Every soldier’s account of warfare, from antiquity to the present day, reflects this truth of war. Who can be counted on when the enemy attacks? Who will break when ambushed? Who will follow orders, even when circumstances make those orders difficult or even impossible? Dependability. Trust. Brotherhood. The legions excel because The Emperor, beloved by all, created an unbreakable bond between us. Our brotherhood will conquer the galaxy and then our brotherhood will defend it." - Sergeant Tiguran, Imperial Fists Legion 328th Company, M31

“We are returned to a galaxy filled only with lies. When the greatest of our number can turn their backs on our Imperium, then how can we ever trust again? I see that Horus’ treachery dealt our species a blow from which we have never recovered, even through the passage of ten thousand years. Where once we knew only trust in our fellow man, now every human eyes the other with suspicion. Even those whose loyalty should stand above any question still draw wary eyes from my brothers. I cannot blame them for their suspicion. For who now lives without doubt?" - Sergeant Tiguran, Imperial Fists 5th Company, M41

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I actually finished painting these guys shortly after the start of the New Year, but I was so sick of looking at them I honestly could not take photos of them until now. In my opinion, Mk. III armor looks amazing but takes entirely too long to paint. Not looking forward to the second squad of these I have assembled and based.

Also, I recommend everyone check out pileofpotential dot com! It lets you track your miniatures in an intuitive and user-friendly way. I've personally found it extremely motivating.

Ouch...that's going to leave a scar for sure... ,

great work as always and the stories help us connect to it even more … before it was simply an Objective marker..., now it's Stoic Brother Lytanus who we hope will be saved by his comrades, ...

excellent painting on him and the character too

cheers, Mithril

Thank you mithrilforge! That's always the intention. "Every model a character" and all that jazz.

[Son of Carnelian]

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Finished five Assault Intercessors! For a monopose kit, the models have a wonderful sense of motion not present in the multi-part box. Thanks for looking!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

The dynamic posing, the detailing and weathering are well done.

[Dosjetka]

Fantastic work, yet again! I can't imagine the time and energy it took to paint all that Mk. III trim...

 

What's on the painting table next? :)

[Son of Carnelian]

"The body of an Astartes is a fortress. And just like any fortress, it has both strengths and weak points. Success lies in identifying the weak points and reinforcing them, while never sacrificing the strength of the fortress." - Apothecary Caius of the Imperial Fists 5th Company

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The dynamic posing, the detailing and weathering are well done.

Thank you, Bjorn Firewalker! I actually like the monopose Assault Intercessors more than the multi-part kit. The monopose versions have more motion in their poses!

Fantastic work, yet again! I can't imagine the time and energy it took to paint all that Mk. III trim...

What's on the painting table next?

My Primaris Apothecary above, Dosjetka! Sorry I did't respond sooner. March was a blur of work and family. Hopefully April is more productive on the painting table!

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Excellent work on the Apothecary and his quote.

[Son of Carnelian]

 

"I fought beside Lysander when the enemy breached our home. When the Phalanx hurtled into the Warp, I stood by my brothers as all turned to madness around us. I have seen my Chapter at its most desperate hour and therefore I will not stand cowed by the Tyranids. Let them come, one at a time or in a great tide. We will kill them all." - Veteran Sergeant Fulvous, attached to the 2nd Company during the War for Karnabys

 

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So, been a while! Fear not, I've been painting this whole time. My Imperial Fists are well over 2,000 points and growing. I'll post my other units as I can!

Edited September 14, 2023 by Son of Carnelian

[Firedrake Cordova]

Really nice work  

Edited September 14, 2023 by Firedrake Cordova