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Night lords 84th claw "The cowardly lions"

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The warmaster's herald lazily scrolled through the data slates pages skimming over tactical deployments of the northern front. 


"I hope everything is to the warmaster's liking." Mewed the mortal fleet admiral. The enhanced olfactory sense of the Astarte could pick out the scent of the man's fear. It was so strong he could almost taste it as well.



"I do not claim to know of the Warmaster's mind I simply speak with his voice." The equerry growled his voice like gravel. 


He stabbed an armoured finger at a inconspicuous entry and passed the slate to the mortal. 


"Tell me of this entry."


The admiral gulped and viewed the slate. 


"Augustus system, over a hundred planets with a trinary star system my lord. No tactical advantage, and a single pre industrial world. The 47th I believe, desert tribes who value water and low quality minerals. It's been marked as unimportant my lord."


The admiral offered the data slates back to his master. The sea foam green Astarte hadn't moved. 



"If it is so unimportant why does the attached intelligence report indicate a recent deployment of 9th legion and auxilia forces?" He asked flatly.



The admiral began to sweat profusely.


"I ..uh..." He stammered.



"Do we have forces deployed to this 47th planet?"



The mortal tugged at his collar struggling to breath, tempting the Astarte to make the condition permanent.


"Yes lord, a small force of the 8th is present however they do not respond to requests for support."


The Astartes took back the dataslate the tiny mortal appearing to be relieved of some great weight as he did so.


"What is their designation? What man leads the band of murderer's?"


The admiral's pained expression was evident, he wished he had held onto the dataslate to use its databanks to retrieve the information.

He closed his eyes and tensed as if expecting the end to come.


"84!" He shouted."I mean 84th the 84th company....no claw I think yes claw. Under a.." he wracked his brain for the nugget of information. "Under an Aloysha something I apologise my lord I cannot recall his siresname."


"The cowardly lion." Mussed the Astarte. "No wonder, it is fitting a backwater filled with men who couldn't fight back."


"You know this man my lord?" The admiral queried desperately wishing to ask the origins of the nickname.


"Man might be high a compliment for him, and his band of degenerates." He growled. " I have never met a less reliable force of Astarte. They withdraw when they should assault, deploy enmasse against targets that can't resist, and will leave operational sectors to chase down Xenos for sport. Alyosha Alokost is the worst of the worst."














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It sounds like a suitably despicable host of Night Lords! The Cowardly Lion is a compelling oxymoron of a title which draws you in. And the miniatures have a lot of character! You make the little firing effects fit in well. I really like the hooded brothers with the bloody hand prints on. Is an inspired little effect. Hope we'll get to see more!

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@sarabando Nobody else has asked the obvious question sooo... when will the Cowardly Lion meet those Dark Age relics the heartless Man of Tin and the brainless Man of Straw?


More seriously, I've always been on the fence about those sculpted muzzle blasts but yours add so much drama to the models that I think I'll try some out on mine.

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  • 4 months later...
On 5/17/2023 at 12:19 AM, Cactus said:

@sarabando Nobody else has asked the obvious question sooo... when will the Cowardly Lion meet those Dark Age relics the heartless Man of Tin and the brainless Man of Straw?


More seriously, I've always been on the fence about those sculpted muzzle blasts but yours add so much drama to the models that I think I'll try some out on mine.

The heartless tin man will be an allied knight named "Vir Stagni" i have no idea about scarecrow. 

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  • 6 months later...

Pugelo waited, it's what he did best. Unmoving his colossal form had collected dust for hours during the hot wind storm until the midnight blue of his chassis was dull and blended in with the scrubland fauna. 

His passive sensors dragged his attention towards one of the breaks in the rockface. He silently watched as mortal auxilia crept into the area weapons raised sweeping high and low. He could taste their fear despite their sealed environment suits, his brothers were doing their jobs well. 

The tiny humans in their white armour pointed at the bubbling pool sunk into the basalt stone, their eagerness was clear. Pugelo almost felt bad for them, water being in such short supply and their mortal form requiring so much of it daily that even the hot filthy pool that bubbled up from below when the suns began to set was a treasure. 

The first man reached the pool and threw both is hands into the air punching the sky in celebration his compatriots followed suite. 

His helical array easily plucked their vox traffic from the myriad of solar radiation, a pair of Arvus lighters responded intending to collect the prize. They arrived moments later first flying past at speed then returning slowing to set down in the open space.  

No more waiting, as the downdraft of the fliers cleared the dust from his chassis he diverted power back to his primary system and stood. The warning screams of the auxilia were drowned out by the jet engines as The Scarecrow swung his weapons to bear. 







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Fyodor removed his helmet letting the dying sunlight warm his face, in the distance he could hear The Scarecrow reminding the few remaining enemy fliers why he held that title. His men were moaning, they had been on patrol looking for suitable targets all day and had not fired a single shot. 

Patience, It was a skill he wished his men would learn. 





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Tigr had a habit of walking heavily on his stave, it crackled with energy with each knock, the long cruel looking claw moved as if it bore a mind of its own.
"Such juicy fat babies for me, yes." His voice twisted by the vox emitter in his terrorhelm.


The prisoners knelt motionless in a line, their arms on top of their unhelmeted heads. An advanced scouting force of Auxilia did not show any fear as the hulking terminator walked up and down their line. They should have.

"Such juicy fat babies for us all, no?" He asked.

Their guards answered voices booming from heavy-duty vox emitters.

"Yes papa." Bellowed a pair of towering contemptor dreadnoughts.

"Stop playing with your food, Golodnyy." Growled a voice from the shadow.

The Terminator wheeled to face the noise, clawed fingers snapping open.

"Who dares?" He hissed, his heavy set wards spooling up their weapons auto loaders.

His lord, Aloyosha stepped forward flanked by his bodyguard, each as heavily armoured as Golodnyy Tigr was, he paused. staring at the pair of ancient dreadnoughts.


"No children! Friends, yes friends." crooned the mad mortificator, bowing low before his commander. "Come lord, plenty juicy babies for us all."












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Posted (edited)

Ramiel studied the flickering hololithe again, a low resolution image with thermal damage.

"Well that explains how the Simple desert folk have been picking off our patrols."

Both the Solar Auxilia commanders and Astartes shifted nervously.

"I recognise some of the markings lord." Spoke one of the black clad legionnaires. "On Gaber, we would find xenos strung up in the jungles canopy with this glyph etched into their hides...those that still had them." He stabbed a finger at the shoulder pad of a skull faced warrior. "The locals had a name for them but id rather not say it, the translation was as crude as the word, but the gist of it was Id rather be hunted by what they hunt." A murmur ran through the command staff.

A glance silenced them.

"Thank you for your colourful insight brother." He said dryly, before he could continue one of the mortals cleared his throat, pointing to a grainy figure in the rear. 

"Melta weapons and lots of them my lord." A scribe tried in vane to improve the gain of the image.

"And more krak grenades than we've seen in a month." Growled a senior non-commissioned officer playing with his bushy moustache, the comment got a chuckle from even the astarte.

"It explains the loses of our armour, the terrain would let those kill teams get close in unseen." Added Icarus, a junior astarte eager to show his worth.

Ramiel shut off the holo display, taking up his blade from his squire. The blade made a high pitched white as it drew across the rock floor before he stabbed it down into the ground.

"Now we know who we face, it is now our duty to remind them who they face!" A cheer went round the gathering, lifting their spirits.

Outside the cave, Ekateryn chuckled to himself as he finished posing the last of the sentries, two of them were still alive unable to wet their lidless eyes, tongueless mouths made a hacking noise.

"Perfect." He sighed before turning to ascend the cliff face in silence.








Edited by sarabando
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