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#4125504 Its Back ..

Posted by Brother Argos on 22 July 2015 - 08:48 PM

After days of work it is back working again.

 

There is a small chance the hardware raid card is faulty. If so it might go down again when the "wave" of users hits the server tonight.

 

I have backups stored offline of everything.

 

Going to go and get some rest now.

 

- Brother Argos

 


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#4553379 We came under a denial of service attack.

Posted by Brother Argos on 04 November 2016 - 04:54 PM

We came under a denial of service attack.

We got behind some cover (Thanks Cloudflare and our Provider)

 

When the bullets stopped we stood up again.

 

If they start again we will take cover again.

 

- Argos

 


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#4554827 Malchy's white faces: African knight finished (up 03/10)

Posted by malcharion on 06 November 2016 - 09:02 AM

Hi there !

Working for a while on my armys and even if it's not quite finished it's on a good way..
Feel the need to share theme with you guys smile.png.

First of all some of my Carcharodon army :

Carcharodon 8th battle company known as the "Oblivion's predators".
First Battle barge : the Hemiodon
Known Shoal master : Captain Nebriuson "the black water jaw"

Command officer :

Nebriuson :

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1798631331550510210205341029186397004929


Makoha Noronhai Second in command Red brethren sergent :

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2671211326005710210205328748879652141809

Isodon Saar, Primary Librarian of the 8th company :

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3135591326017410210205338749129453231646
3241181326606410210205338469122847086537

Known characters of the Shoal :

Saelei Brachyurus, Contemptor class dreadnought :

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The Oromatua "The Soul eater", "8th tithe" of the Oblivion's predators company .

Background :

Spoiler


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6968221390277210210856790195008422795937
5869531393834310210856788754972615266476

Rest of the shoal :

Drop pod :
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Leviathan siege dreadnought :
765983323259DSC00486.jpg
369634904453DSC00484.jpg

Leave you their for the Carcharodons parts but their is a lot more to come ..

Next post for my raven guard
here is a taste :

Moritat / Count as Kaedes Nex :

7412641362696810210595786710084137912392
4810701365905210210595789150145216196415
5493881365439110210595788430127616657187

( if you are asking why the tau gun, it's just to represent the special gun of Kaedes nex and for the most part it's just that I wanted to try a light effect.. just an aesthetic issue ^^)

Hope you guys will like theme ! Stay tuned for the next round msn-wink.gif

Malchy aka Nebriuson


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#4514163 We are back online ... but..

Posted by Brother Argos on 28 September 2016 - 11:56 AM

If you get any odd errors, please post here.

 

 


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#4786588 Post Your Primaris Marines

Posted by Rob_Loken on 17 June 2017 - 09:58 PM

I'll bite, my first unit of Angels Revenant.

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I figure after being blown up by Necrons these guys might benefit from the Primaris program. 😁
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#4030513 Wh40k jokes

Posted by Toothbrush of Terra on 05 May 2015 - 01:30 AM

A Night Lord and a Word Bearer have been tasked with doing Horus's laundry. They are having a debate on the merits of using Daemons to aid in the task.

 

"You know Daemons can help us, Sev," the Word Bearer cries, "for the power of the warp cares not for time or space - Tzeentch's warpfire can have the laundry done before we even start it!"

 

"I have no need for your magicks to help us, Ron," replied the Night Lord. "Using only the power of fear, I can scare the water straight out of the Warmaster's clothes."

 

An Iron Warrior enters.

 

"I can finish this task without any petty tricks," he growled.

 

"Show us then!" challenged the Night Lord.

 

Wordlessly, the Iron Warrior opened a compartment in his power armor and stuffed Horus's clothes inside. Moments later, he opened the compartment and removed Horus's clothes - steam-pressed, pristine, and cleaned.

 

The Night Lord and Word Bearer stood mouth agape.

 

"B-b-but how?" questioned the Word Bearer.

 

The Iron Warrior laughed. "You two forget the motto of the Iron Warriors!"

 

"Iron Within - Ironed Without!"


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#4678141 Rise of the Primarch - plot summary

Posted by Goonbandito on 09 March 2017 - 12:48 PM

Rise of the Primarch

 

 

Previously, on the Gathering Storm... Cadia Falls as the 13th Black Crusade launches in full.  Ynnead, Eldar God of the Dead, awakes in the ruins of Biel-Tan, and his Emmsiary, Yvraine, gathers a host of various Eldar together to form the Ynnarri.  Archmagos Belisarius Cawl has an ancient pact to keep with the Lord of Ultramar (as well as a super-secret package to deliver) and must get to Macragge.  Inquisitor Katarinya Greyfax can’t stop thinking about Saint Celestine…

 

Part One – Ultramar Defiant

 

High in the mountains of Laphis (Shrine World, Macragge System), Black Legionaries prowl the aftermath of a bloody battle against some Ultramar Defense Auxilia.  War has come to Realm of Ultramar.  Not all is quiet though – the Chaos Marines have detected a build-up of aetheric energy but before they can make sense of it, a massive blast of energy hurls them about.  A Webway Gate reveals itself and Ynnari and Celestinian forces burst forth, quickly cutting down the surprised Black Legion marines.  Despite their alliance, the Eldar and Imperial forces remain uneasy of each other, Marshal Amalrich and Inquisitor Greyfax most of all.  Saint Celestine smooths things over as debate over their next move gets a bit twitchy and it becomes apparent they will need the assistance of the Ultramarines to get to Macragge itself.

 

Vox intercepts have picked up indicate a massive Chaos invasion – reports of Black Legion, Alpha Legion, Iron Warriors, Emperor’s Children and more are heard.  The Eldar/Imperial force sets off towards a nearby Ultramarine fortress, only to see it come under assault from Heldrake hunting packs.  The Knights of House Taranis shoot them down and, recognising the authority of both an Inquisitor and the Living Saint herself, the Ultramarine defenders let them in.  Celestine explains their mission – Cawl must be given an audience with the Lord of Ultramar, and smiles expectantly as a flight of Stormravens arrive.  They were meant to be the air-support for the fortress, but now they’ll take the Ynnari and Celestinian ‘pilgrims’ to a waiting Strike Cruiser.  But Not everyone though – of the Eldar only Yvraine and the Visarch will go to Macragge, with the rest of the Ynnari heading back into the Webway to spread word of Ynnead.  The bulk of the Battle Sisters, as well as the House Taranis Knights, stay behind on Laphis to help its defence too.

 

The Ultramarines are cautious.  The travellers are kept under guard as the Strike Cruiser makes the journey to Macragge and a meeting with Marneus Calgar, Lord of Ultramar.  Amalrich and the Eldar aren’t too keen on being essentially locked up with nothing and The Visarch eventually takes to sparring abit with the Black Templar Marshal.  Cawl purges Greyfax of the mindshackle scarabs that Trazyn had used to keep her captive and she endures the agonising process by keeping a close eye on Celestine.  She was beginning to see that Celestine’s “divinity” was the real deal, that the light of her faith shines righteous.  But Greyfax is still an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor – she is well aware of tricks and 'miracles' of foul nature.  While she hopes Celestine is indeed uncorrupted, she is alert of the slightest hint of duplicity.  Meanwhile, Yvraine and Cawl have a lengthy and circumspect conversation about upcoming events…

 

The Strike Cruiser reaches Macragge, only to find itself amidst a pitched space battle between the Ultramar Defence Fleet and the attacking Chaos Fleet.  Macragge is under a full scale Chaos Invasion.  Braving the firepower of ships from the Black Legion, Iron Warriors, the Purge and the Night Lords, the Ynnari and the Celestinians ride Stormravens down to the planet.  Marneus Calgar has been informed of their arrival, along with their urgent request to meet with the Lord of Ultramar, and he awaits with interest.  The battle rages around the Fortress of Hera, as the Ultramarines escort them to the strategium.  Waiting them there are Chapter Master Calgar, First Captain Agemman, Chief Librarian Tigurius and Grand Master Voldus of the Grey Knight 3rd Brotherhood.  Amalrich, Greyfax and Celestine bow before Calgar while the Eldar and Cawl stand impassively.  Calgar reveals that he has no knowledge of who Cawl is and that he certainly hasn’t made any pact with an Archmagos.  The Celestinians, bar Celestine herself who suddenly realises what’s going on, turn to Cawl in shock as he says he has no business with Calgar.  He’s come to see the real Lord of Ultramar - Roboute Guilliman himself.

 

This raises an immediate outcry amongst the Ultramarines and weapons are raised in warning, as Cawl speaks basically of sacrilege.  Celestine tries to explain - “would it help if I said we’re on a mission from God?” – but finds muzzles aimed her way too.  Yvraine and the Visarch ready themselves for battle, but Chief Librarian Tigurius speaks up for Cawl.  He has been having ominous visions of troubling times, visions that had helped prepare Macragge for defence against the Chaos Invasion, and he believes that these travellers have an important role to play.  Calgar, who is still overseeing the defence of Macragge in the background as the standoff/discussion takes place, makes his decision: they will be allowed to enter the Shrine of Guilliman, but under heavy Ultramarine guard.  Greyfax shared a glance with Amalrich – the Ultramarines would not be the only ones to exact swift vengeance if Cawl or the Ynnari stepped out of line with any more unexpected revelations.

 

Agemman stays behind to oversee the defences, while Calgar, Tigurius, Voldus, a smattering of 1st and 3rd Company Battle-Brothers and Honour Guard escort the Cawl and his compatriots to the Shrine.  Guilliman lies before them, on a Throne of marble, gold and adamantium surrounded by the workings of his stasis field, the wounds on his armour from his final duel with Fulgrim still visible.  Pausing to bow respect before the Primarch, Calgar again demands Cawl to tell him what his purpose is.  Cawl explains that 10 millennia ago, before Guilliman was mortally wounded, the Primarch came to him and charged him with two great labours and that he was here to deliver on the first of those promises.  Cawl had brought with him a new suit of armour fit for the Primarch, one that’s life-support systems could heal his wounds.  The Ultramarines are stunned into silence – their Primarch, living and breathing again… could it be possible?  Yvraine speaks up, explaining that the power she wields as the Emissary of Ynnead will be key to restoring Guilliman.  But such power is not wielded without sacrifice – for Guilliman to live again, he must first die.  This raises the immediate ire of the Ultramarines again, Calgar declaring that no witch will ever lay hands on the Primarch.  Voldus, Greyfax and Marshal Amalrich stand with Calgar.  Tigurius moves to stand with Cawl and the Ynnari.  Celestine implores everyone to have faith; that this is the will of the Emperor.  Weapons are raised yet again, and tensions are about to boil over…

 

Calgar receives a priority vox, and he’s barely able to shout a warning as an Ultramarine Thunderhawk comes crashing down in the cavernous shrine.  Spilling out from its holds come a host of Chaos Raptors, wearing the colours of the Black Legion.  They fan out quickly, attaching spiked icons to the floor.  Teleportation flares thunder out, and Black Legion Terminators warp in and start laying fire into the Ultramarines.  Calgar is aghast – Chaos, in the Primarch’s Shrine???  It’s more likely than you think!  Forced to put aside his distrust of Cawl and the Ynnari for the moment, he charges into the Chaos forces - Celestine, Amalrich and Voldus with him - as pitched battle breaks out.  Greyfax meanwhile copped a glancing hit in the opening salvo that knocked the wind out of her, and she’s forced to take cover.  While she’s hanging back, she’s assessing the battlefield and can’t help but notice Celestine cutting a swathe through the Chaos marines – she may not fully trust the Saint, but she could not fault the woman’s selflessness or skill.  Eyes on the prize Katarinya…

 

Greyfax’s psyocculum starts picking up on weird readings.  Following the psyocculum’s needle, she notices Cawl, Tigurius and the Ynnari standing next to Guilliman’s stasis-pod.  She watches as Tigurius blasts some charging Bezerkers and the realises that the weird readings she’s getting are of the psyocculum picking up a life energy transfer from the dead Bezerkers to Yvraine.  She’s tries to dash out of cover, intending to go stop whatever unholy ritual is about to be performed, but she’s pinned in place by autocannon fire.  Calgar notices the commotion too, and watches in horror as Yvraine raises her sword above Guilliman.  He shouts a command to Tigurius, ordering him to stop the xenos witch, but Tigurius shakes his head in response as Yvraine cuts through the power cables sustaining the stasis field.  The auto-reliquary that Cawl had been transporting then unfurls, and engulfs Guilliman.

 

The Black Legion forces, as if sensing the immensity of what’s about to happen, redouble their attacks and start to push the Ultramarine defenders back.  A Chaos Sorcerer uses the new Heretic Astartes Geomortis Psychic Powers (pick up your datacards today kids!) to try and collapse the very foundations of the shrine itself – Tigurius desperately trying to make his Deny the Witch roll to prevent it – as Grey Knight Paladins teleport in shore up the defence.  The battle hangs in the balance….  But a new wave of Dreadclaws smash down – 10 of the them! – and disgorge nearly a hundred new chaos marines into the fray.  Calgar tries to rally to the Primarch’s Throne, but he’s tarpitted and brought to the ground by pile of Chaos Marines.  Celestine is injured, an arm hanging uselessly at her side, and Amalarich finds himself bogged down too.  Things look done for the Imperials as the Black Legion forces are mere meters from the throne… when the lights on the auto-reliquary blink from red to green.  With a hiss, the arms of the auto-reliquary fold back and stepping out with a breathtaking splendour strides Roboute Guilliman.

 

(There’s a quick aside here, to briefly refresh our knowledge of the Primarchs and Guilliman in particular.  It matches up with the fluff from the Horus Heresy series, alluding to Imperium Secundus amongst other things)

 

A stunned silence sweeps over the battlefield for a few moments as the presence of a Primarch seems to fill the massive room.  It’s broken by the crazed charge of a lone Bezerker, who rushes Guilliman.   But, with a speed that even the Ynnari would struggle to match, Guilliman neatly swings the Emperor’s Sword and cleaves the Bezerker in two.  The moment is broken, and with a hateful cry the Black Legion forces charge at the Primarch.  Guilliman strides directly to meet them.  Celestine was not immune to the presence of the Primarch either – she sees it as straight up vindication of everything she has ever fought for, the Emperor’s Will made manifest.  She sheds a single golden tear as she offers up prayers of thanks to the Emperor.  A Black Legionnaire tries to strike at her while she’s distracted, except Celestine is anything but – she feels her injuries heal, and she drives the Ardent Blade through the traitor.  She takes to the air, jumping across the battlefield to land next to Greyfax, who’s blasting away at Heretics with her boltgun.

 

“I erred,” Greyfax admits, “and I will do Penance.  You truly are the instrument of the Emperor’s Will.”

“Vigilance is not a sin, Katarinya,” Celestine replies, “You serve Him as surely as I”.

“Indeed.  Let us serve him together, as true warriors of Faith.” Together, Celestine and Greyfax launch themselves into the battle.  Way better love story than Twilight.

 

Guilliman is utterly wrecking the Black Legion forces.  None of his foes can even come close to matching the preternatural speed and skill of a Primarch.  Every swing of his sword, every shot from his gauntlet sends traitor marines crumbling.  His expression is grave – his last memory was of a desperate battle against a hateful brother, yet now he suddenly finds himself in a strange place surrounded by twisted and warped Astartes.  Even the boys in blue are unfamiliar to him, but at least he can recognise them as allies.  He eventually pushes to the downed form of Marneus Calgar.  Calgar is badly injured, armour cracked and broken, but he’s alive and he looks up into the face of his Primarch in disbelief as Guilliman checks he still lives before moving on to continue his route of the Chaos Marines.  The Black Legion morale is broken at this point, and they begin to flee – but not one of the will escape the Fortress of Hera alive.

 

Reinforcements arrive as the battle winds down, every one of the newly arriving Ultramarines dropping to their knees before the Primarch.  Guilliman quickly takes charge of the scene, his strategic acumen taking over.  He makes no reference to his miraculous rebirth, and none of the Ultramarines dare ask.  News of the Primarch’s Rise spread through the fortress like wildfire, proclamations blaring from every vox speaker on every rampart.  The Ultramarine and Ultramar Defense Auxilia manning the battlements are at first confused before finding new strength in the words they hear.  In contrast, the Chaos forces arrayed against them begin to feel doubt and unease at the thought of a Primarch meeting them in battle.

 

Guilliman makes for the strategium, with a wounded Calgar at his side, where he formally requests command of the battle from First Captain Agemman.  With Guilliman now in charge, the defense of the Fortress of Hera quickly turns in the Ultramarines favour.  In short order, the fortress is swept of the Chaos presence and the Ultramarine’s stronghold on Macragge is secured.  A ceremony is held in the Chapter Master’s sanctum, now to become the throne-room of the Primarch, as Guilliman is formally invested as a Lord of Ultramar and Master of the Ultramarines in front of the top command personnel and representatives of every Company of the Chapter.  Saint Celestine ceremoniously gives him her blessings, and even Yvrainne and the Visarch are lurking in the background watching.  The ceremony concludes, with Guilliman requesting to know everything that happened while he was gone…


Part Two – War Storm

 

The Warp roils with the energies of emotion and passion from the rebirth of Roboute Guilliman, as the champions of the Dark Gods become aware of the momentous event that has taken place on Macragge.  Fulgrim pouts in displeasure, vowing to Slaanesh that he will put Guilliman down this time.  Various Greater Demons of Tzeentch watch the weaves of fate and begin to plot the downfall of the Ultramarine Primarch.  In Nurgle’s Garden, a conclave of Great Unclean Ones throw a party as they imagine all the fun times they could have together with Roboute – maybe they could even get him and Mortarion back together again!  Fun for the whole family!  Champions of Khorne burn 88 worlds, battling each other for the one to earn the right to answer their God – Khorne cares not for the silly plans of the other gods.  He just wants Guilliman’s skull.

 

Abaddon has been foretold by his sorcerers of this occasion too, hence the massive forces he’d thrown at Macragge to try to prevent it from happening.  Annoyed that this attack had failed, he summons and binds Kairos Fateweaver and sets him loose to stop Guilliman.  Mortarion senses the reawakening too, and his rage coalesces into 7 new forms of disease and plague that run rampant across Imperial Worlds.  He’s too busy with his own plans to act right at this moment, but he’s got something up his sleeve… Magnus the Red laughs in delight as he learns of the news, and the strands of fate twist before to reveal new insight.  He’s already beaten the Space Wolves bloody and got his revenge, and now he sees the chance to strike at another hated foe…

 

Whole sections of the galaxy erupt into fierce new Warp Storms, the scale of which not seen since the dark times of Old Night, as the Primordial Annihilator turns its full attention on realspace.  Legions of Demons are sent forth into the galaxy, intent on laying low the reborn Primarch.  But the Great Game is ever eternal – ambitious servants of the gods take this opportunity, while the gods themselves are distracted, to launch new assaults on their rivals.  Blood Legions of Khorne throw themselves at the Crystal Labyrinthes of Tzeentch’s domain, while cavalcades of Slaaneshi demons hack their way into the Garden of Nurgle…

 

Guilliman for his part is busy catching up on the affairs of the last 10,000 years.  He’s not particularly impressed by what he learns of what the Imperium has become.  Idolatry, Ignorance, Suffering, Squalor – all in the name of a god who never wanted the title.  He yearns for one of his brothers to speak to, someone who could understand his heartache.  Its not all mental either – whatever was done to bring him back has left him with a constant, gnawing ache in his body that he suspects will never go away.  He looks up at a tapestry depicting the Emperor hanging in his sanctum.

“We failed, father,” he sighs with sorrow.  “You failed us, and we in turn failed you.  And worse, we failed all of them too.  Did Horus not say that you sought godhood?  How he would laugh to see the Imperium now.”  A wave of anger washes over him which he struggles to keep in check – the last thing he needs is for Calgar and Tigurius and the rest to see him lose it.

“Why do I live?  What do you want from me?  I put everything into our dream, and look what they’ve done!” He snarls at the tapestry.  “An empire of fear, hate and ignorance – better we had all burned in the fires of Horus’ ambition than live to see this.”  But as soon as he says this, he knows he’s just talking his own fears.  The Ultramarines of this age had never seen the hope of triumph of the Imperium at its peak glory during the Great Crusade, yet they are march forward unbowed.  How can he show anything less?  He knows of Cawl’s labours, his second promise, back on Mars – there’s hope for a better future for the Imperium.   “Too long have the pawns of Chaos meddled with our species fate.  That must end,” he declares.

 

Guilliman emerges from his chambers, 4 days later.  He brings close his counsel – Calgar and Tigurius, but also Voldus, Cawl, Celestine and Greyfax.  He would use every arm of the Imperium.  Strength in Unity.  And now its time to take back Ultramar.  Macragge itself is reclaimed in a month, the scattered and disparate Chaos forces proving no match for his strategies.  Imperial Reinforcements also arrive, including a number of Ultramarine Successor chapters (Novamarines, Sons of Orara and the Genesis Chapter are mentioned).  The Arch-Consul of Magna Civitas organises a huge parade to restore morale to the citizens of Macragge.  Guilliman reluctantly agrees, recognising the need for symbolism, and during the procession the Arch-Consul presents Guilliman with a gilded crown.  But as Guilliman dons the crown, he’s struck by visions and thoughts of future glories – his armies countless beyond number, willing to die for him gladly.  Planets, sectors and whole segmentums renamed in his honor and eventually the Golden Throne itself his to claim.  He deserved nothing less after all…. And Guilliman rips the crown off with a gasp.   The Arch-Consul dissolves into a mutant spawn, hissing and spitting, and Guilliman hears a voice echo through his mind that he had not heard since Thessala.  Fulgrim mockingly welcomes Guilliman back to Ultramar and, while disappointed he resisted the temptations of the Crown of Glories, promises him that this is but the first of many temptations.  Fulgrim’s voice laughs as he promises Guilliman that he will never be able to trust the feeling of self-satisfaction again.  Disgusted, Guilliman slays the mutant creature, but he can’t seem to erase Fulgrim’s words from his mind…

 

More Imperial forces arrive at Macragge, having heard word of Guilliman’s resurrection.  Delegations of Raven Guard, Dark Angels, Space Wolves, White Scars and Black Templars all hastening to the Primarch’s side.  The Black Templars need only one look at the zealous look in Marshal Amalrich’s eyes, he alone of his crusade who has survived, to declare him touched by the hand of the Emperor.  He’s given the armour and Black Blade of the Emperor’s Champion.  Still more forces arrive – Imperial Navy and Adeptus Mechanicus fleets, Imperial Knight households, Titan Legions, Administratum officials - the list goes on.  A delegation of Adeptus Ministorum priests arrive, intent on confirming and then proclaiming Guilliman’s Divinity.  Guilliman is not at all keen on this, and only relents when Celestine and Greyfax point out just how powerful the Ecclesiarchy is.  Better to have the Ecclesiarchy on his side, than against him.  One last thing that Guilliman orders before setting out to reclaim the wider Ultramar system – he orders the Library of Ptolemy barred shut to all visitors.  This is an age of Wrath and War – learning and lore must be set aside.

 

The War for Ultramar rages on as the Imperial Forces begin to reclaim the Five Hundred Worlds.  It’s a long process though.  Seven months in saw the spread of a mysterious new sickness through-out the conquest forces, causing endless streams of viscous stinking tears that eventually infect the eyeballs of its victims and leave them in agonising blindness.  It becomes known as the Weeping Plague.  It’s eventually traced to swarms of mites that find their way into food supplies, ammunition packs, bundles of clothing and even amongst the pages of Imperial Primers.  Nothing seems to halt its spread, as it begins to cripple the human elements of the Imperial Forces.  The Astartes were un-affected, but curiously the Adepta Sororitas proved strongly resistant despite them being humans also.  But then something amazing – when Guilliman came to inspect the sick, his mere presence seemed to drive back the disease.  Auxilia soldiers rose from their hospital beds, the sight restored and their sickness vanished.  No-one could explain the cause, but wherever Guilliman walked the sick were cured.  The Ecclesiarchy were quick to declare a Miracle, and their sermons rang loud with proclamations of his divinity.  Guilliman couldn’t explain it either, but he could not just let the soldiers under his command die while he could do something about it.  So he travelled everywhere the sick were found, days and weeks on end curing them.   His absence from the war efforts began to show though, as Chaos Forces were able to regroup and launch effective counter-assaults.  Worse still, the Plague begin to pop back up in places Guilliman had already cured.  He was running around in circles trying to cure everyone.  Grand Master Voldus eventually confronts him with the what he sees as the truth – this plague bears the mark of Nurgle.  Guilliman was not curing anyone, but rather it was an insidious plan to keep Guilliman distracted and contained inside Ultramar. 

 

Guilliman realised he had been played by Nurgle.  In his desire to reclaim Ultramar and turn it into a bastion of order, he was making mistakes he’d made in the distant past.  There was only one real course of action – he had to make for Terra.  The fact that both Slaanesh and Nurgle had attempted to keep him trapped in Ultramar proved that he was needed elsewhere.  So, and not without reluctance, he left the reconquest of Ultramar in the hands of Calgar, Tigurius and Agemman.  With him would travel elements of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Ultramarine Companies with Captain Cato Sicarius in command, as well as the 3rd Brotherhood of Grey Knights led by Grand Master Voldus.  The various Ultramarine successor chapters present also gave their support, as did Emperor’s Champion Amalrich and his Black Templars.  Inquistor Greyfax, Saint Celestine and Archmagos Cawl would also accompany Guilliman.  It was at this point that Yvraine and the Visarch bade their farewell, with a promise that they would fight together again in the future (so long as it suited their needs Guilliman remarks to himself). 

 

The Celestinian Crusade that had set out from Cadia to Macragge was over.  So began the Terran Crusade.  It would be an arduous journey.  The Warp churned with chaotic turbulence, and the Navigators could only manage short jumps through the warp.  Even then, a number of Imperial Ships suffered Gellar Field breaches and swarms of Demons would sweep through their decks before they could be cleansed with holy fire.  Guilliman travelled upon his ancient flagship, Macragge’s Honour, its familiar hallways a welcome haven.  He had hoped that the storms would abate the further he travelled from Ultramar, but there seemed no end in sight to the storms.  And everytime the fleet dropped back into realspace, the Astropaths would pick up garbled messages of a galaxy in chaos.  Morale dropped across the fleet as the weeks dragged on… until eventually the fleet came suddenly on the edge of the Maelstrom, which had swelled with power, catching everyone by surprise.  Fearing the worst, the fleet performed an emergency translation back into realspace….

 

…right into the devastating broadsides of an ambush.  Numerous ships were lost before the Imperial’s were even aware of their ambushers – a vast fleet of Thousand Sons warships.  Just As Planned™.  At the centre of the ambush fleet was an immense craft that Guilliman recognised as vast facsimile of the Great Pyramid of Tizca.  From its observation gallery, Magnus watched his ambush play out with amusement, the chanting of his sorcerers ringing out around him.  He had no desire to kill his brother just yet and, judging when his ambush had wrought enough devastation on the Imperial fleet, he completed the incantation that was being weaved.  Giant Empyric Tendrils of the Maelstrom whipped out, wrapped around the Imperial ships and flung them deep into the heart of the Maelstrom.

 

The effect on the ships of the Terran Crusade were devastating.  Unprepared for a sudden entry into the Warp, many ships failed to raise their Gellar Fields in time and were consumed by demons.  The ones that did get their Gellar Fields up found themselves drifting in the tides of unnatural energy.  112 Space Marine, Mechanicus and Imperial Navy ships had set out from Macragge, and barely half that number remained.  Belisarius Cawl led repairs as best he could, as the leaders of the Crusade convened to determine their next move.  They were utterly lost – the navigators had no fix on the Astronomican.  Faint transmissions were heard from a nearby crystal moon, and Guilliman ordered a full attack with specific instructions to capture anything that would help them navigate the Maelstrom.  A band of renegades were encountered holed up on the moon – Red Corsairs – who were quickly eliminated, but when their last survivor was captured for interrogation he became possessed.  A diabolical presence, speaking in two voices, mocked Guilliman - telling him that Ultramar was burning and that he would be cursed to wander the Maelstrom forever – before ending the Red Corsair prisoner.  Guilliman vowed to end whatever this Demon was that had vexed him.

 

With their only lead dead, the fleet wandered the Maelstrom aimlessly, picking a direction and hoping for the best.  How long they travelled like this, they had no idea, for time had no meaning in this place of madness.  Patrols of Emperor’s Children craft were encountered and seized, but any navigational tools they possessed were blank but for the mocking words the demon had uttered back on the moon.  The Crusade pressed on as supplies dwindled amongst constant skirmishes with Chaos raiding parties.  Guilliman himself was further wracked by dark visions haunting his mind, of Ultramar, Mars and Terra burning.  A voice promised him that these visions would come to truth, but only if he tried to leave – if he stayed in the Maelstrom, the Imperium would be spared.  It was on yet another aid on yet another cursed world to find intelligence that Kairos Fateweaver revealed himself as the demon haunting Guilliman’s actions, in an ambush by scores of Tzeentch Demons.  The Imperials were forced to retreat, Fateweaver mocking Guilliman all the while…

 

Things were getting really desperate, as the fleets numbers waned further still, ships too badly damaged to continue on scuttled in their wake.  A hard, fast strike against a Red Corsair stronghold brought some measure of sanity back and it was amongst the hallways of this stronghold that Guilliman had another vision.  This time it was of a mysterious Eldar figure and it spoke of a path out of the Maelstrom.  Alert for yet more trickery from Fateweaver, but sensing no taint of chaos, Guilliman felt hope returning…

 

The fleet made for the directions the Eldar had spoke of.  A promised navigational marker was reached, and then another and soon enough they had reached the final stretch of their journey out.  But before them lay a massive graveyard of derelict ships from untold number of factions – all linked together in a massive web of chains.  There was no way around – the graveyard seemed to stretch to infinity in all directions, which meant the only way was to go through.  Progress was slow, and unnerving, as wreckage was pushed away to make room.  But eventually the Navigators began to see the light of the Astronomican seeping through – they were almost out!  Guilliman was extra cautious though, for this was the most vulnerable leg of the journey and his caution proved right when Red Corsair ships blazed out of hiding spots in the wreckage to attack.  The Imperial Fleet was outflanked, and the Red Corsair ships were aiming to disable their targets in order to seize and salvage.  Guilliman ordered his ships to prepare for boarders, even wishing the Emperor’s Blessings upon the defenders (much to his own distate). 

 

The chaos pirates struck the Macragges Honour hard, aiming to swiftly overrun the defenders positions on the bridge.  The defense of the bridge held at first, but began to give.  As Red Corsair Terminators pushed through, waves of Horrors and Flamers poured in behind them, along with Kairos Fateweaver himself, wrecking havoc through the Imperial defences.  Guilliman roared a challenged, and charged at Fateweaver with Sicarius, Greyfax and Celestine covering his flanks, but this was the moment Kairos had planned for.  Nine Heralds of Tzeentch suddenly revealed themselves in the battle, and began chanting an incantation.  Sicarius attempted to direct fire on the spellcasters, but waves of expendable horrors jumped infront of the boltgun fire to provide a flesh shield for their masters.  Kairos raised his staff for the final part of the spell – ever since Guilliman had entered the Maelstrom, Kairos had been implanting subtle traps in his mind.  It wasn’t easy, for the mind of a Primarch has formidable defences and the intervention of the Eldar had forced his hand earlier than Kairos would have liked, but the spell completed and suddenly Guilliman stumbled.  Streams of incandescent energy poured from Guilliman’s mouth and eyes, and forced him to his knees.  All the negative emotions, doubts and madness that Kairos had been seeding in Guilliman’s mind burst out and wrapped around him in a heavy crystal chain, paralysing him.  Fateweaver then commanded the Imperials to surrender, lest they watch their Primarch be crushed before their eyes.  With no other choice, the Imperial’s lowered their weapons.  Kairos stood gloating before them, victorious…


Part Three – Rise of the Primarch

 

Guilliman was captured.  The Imperials that didn’t surrender were either killed, or forced to submit.  Emperor’s Champion Amalrich was one of the latter, wrestled and beaten down by a mob of Red Corsairs as he single-handledly held the Enginarium.  The prisoners were brought to the stronghold of the Red Corsairs – a freakin Blackstone Fortress!  Turns out Abaddon had been pleased with Huron Blackheart’s rebellion, and given a kingly gift to the Tyrant of Badab proving both Abaddon’s sheer power (I mean, who gives away Blackstone Fortresses as participation prizes?!) and ensuring the loyalty of the Red Corsairs to Abaddon.

 

The Imperials were thrown into cells inside the massive space fortress, Guilliman held fast in the chains Kairos had forged from Guilliman’s own mind.  He would rot in the prison for a time – Kairos didn’t want to simply kill Guilliman, for a chained Primarch was far too good of a source of power to simple throw away, and already Kairos was plotting in ways to make use of him.   The Red Corsairs would act as gaolers, content with the boons that Fateweaver could grant them.  But perhaps Kairos was distracted and failed to see the future somehow, for he missed the massive horde that was descending on the fortress…  Skarbrand had come for the skull of Guilliman.

 

The hordes of Khorne fell on the Blackstone Fortress.  The Red Corsairs rallied quickly, forming firing ranks and pouring fire into the charging Khornate forces.  Kairos howled in dismay at the unforeseen events, summoning masses of Tzeentch Demons to fight back as more and more Khorne demons joined the slaughter.  Guilliman, still trapped in his gaol, listened to the distant sounds of battle and prepared himself for any potential opportunities to escape…

 

Deep within the fortress’ core, a portal that had long lay dormant flickered to life.  A band of shadowed figures, accompanied by a larger robed figure, slipped unseen into the Blackstone.  Through the twisting maze of hallways they went, long-dormant systems coming to life to allow them access as they passed.  Eventually they reached the cells that Guilliman and the Ultramarines were being held in, guarded by a full squad of Red Corsairs with guns trained at the only door into the gaol.  At least the only door the Red Corsairs knew about.  Silently and unseen, a door slid open at the back of the room and the Harlequins of the Veiled Path, and the larger robed figure, moved soundlessly up behind the Red Corsairs and cut them down before they could even react.  The robed figure grabbed the key to the cells off one of the guards as Sylandri Veilwalker pointed him in the direction of a specific cell.

 

Guilliman watched as the robed figure approached his cell.  He didn’t recognise the Astarte, but he did recognise the colours of the 1st Legiones Astartes. 

“Who are you?” Guilliman asked. 

“I can free you,” the mysterious figure replied, ignoring the question.

“Can.  Not will.  What do you want?” Guilliman frowned in return.

“Take me to Terra, to the Throne, and I will free you,” said the hooded figure.  Guilliman, trapped in his chains, could only glare.  He didn’t have much of a choice.

“Very well,” the Primarch replied, “but know this Dark Angel.  If you seek to trick or manipulate me, nothing in this galaxy can save you.”  One side of Cypher’s mouth lifts in a bitter smile.

“As you say,” Cypher mutters as he unlocks all the cells.

 

Sylandri Veilwalker steps forward at this point, and Guilliman’s eyes widen as he recognises her as the mysterious Eldar that guided them through the Maelstrom.  But was she guiding them to freedom or had she deliberately sent them into a trap? Hmmmmmmmmmm.   Veilwalker begins a dance as she focuses her energy on the chains around Guilliman, unbinding them.  Guilliman, Sicarius and the rest of the Ultramarines, several hundred strong, were free.  They still had their armour, but no weapons.  Veilwalker revealed the location of their weapons and vehicles that been salvaged by the Red Corsairs.  Guilliman was highly suspicious of the Eldar and the mysterious Dark Angel, but resolved to at least let them lead him to his weapons and allies.  They moved quickly, for their escape would not go un-noticed for long.  On the way they find and free Celestine and her Geminae, Cawl and his Mechanicus forces, Greyfax and finally Voldus and his Grey Knights as well as the rest of the successor chapter Marines and their Dreadnaughts and Tanks that had been taken off the ships.  Sicarius suggest they strike fast to their ships to escape, but Veilwalker informs them that the docks are thick with fighting.  At any rate, the human crews of the ships are all dead and their navigators have been taken away.  The only way off is through the Webway Portal the Harlequins and Cypher came in on.

 

(btw I guess this means the Macragge’s Honour is left behind in the hands of the Red Corsairs….). 

 

Driving their vehicles through the huge passageways, the Imperials and their guides make for the Webway, but its not long before they are noticed and eventually their advance slows to a crawl as they get pinned down by both Red Corsair and Demons sent out to intercept them.  Finding themselves surrounding and pinned in from both sides, things are looking grim until the timely arrival of the Legion of the Dammed.  Their spectral forms sweep in and clear the Chaos forces from their flanks, allowing Guilliman’s force to move forward.  Eventually they reach the heart of the Blackstone, a huge chamber a hundred miles across with bridges cutting across it, connecting various doorways.  The Webway Portal is at the far side, but from the doorways stream endless waves of enemies – Khrone Demons from oneside, Tzeentch Demons from the other.  As the Imperials cross the bridges towards the Webway Portal, three-way fights break out between the Khorne, Tzeentch and Imperial forces.  Guilliman catches sight of Kairos lurking way in the back, clearly not keen on getting up in Guilliman’s face now that the Lord of Change’s plans are in ruins.  Skarbrand is a different story though.

 

The massive Bloodthirster charges forth, his rage influencing everyone around him.  Amalrich and his Black Templars find themselves filling with rage and throw themselves furiously into the oncoming demons, the Emperor’s Champion going straight for Skarbrand himself.  Guilliman considers diverting assistance to them, but knows he has to concentrate on maintaining cohesion amongst the rest of the Imperials lest they lose themselves to Skarbrand’s rage too.  Voldus and the Grey Knights lead the advance, with the Legion of the Dammed bringing up the rear, as they close in on the webway portal.  Cawl and his Skitarri are mowing down demons, Novamarine Vindicators are blasting away bridges to stop the demons flanking and Celestine and Greyfax are fighting side by side as they hack their way through demons (what a great date!)

 

But then Skarbrand lets loose a deafening roar, and leaps across the gap towards the Imperials.  Guilliman’s eyes go wide as he see’s Amalrich’s Black Blade buried in the chest of Skarbrand, the only remaining sign of Amalrich himself (“a bloody atonement for his failings on Cadia”).  Skarbrand lands amongst the Legion of the Dammed, sending them tumbling down the chasm into the darkness.  The rearmost of the Imperial forces begin to turn back, already succumbing to Skarbrand’s madness, and Guilliman realises he’s about to lose control.  He orders all Imperials to make fast across the last bridge to the Webway Portal and he turns back to confront Skarbrand, holding at the head of the bridge in his very best Gandalf impression.  All the Imperials, and the Harlequins, are through the portal by now with just Sicarius and Celestine remaining outside.  But Skarbrand is bearing down on Guilliman.  That skull belongs to Khorne and by golly is Skarbrand going to take it!

 

Guilliman feels the hellish fires rise in his mind, as he begins to lose himself to the rage and unable to stop himself he charges at Skarbrand.  The Emperor’s Sword meets Slaughter, as Guilliman ducks under Carnage.  With every blow, Guilliman feels his rage rising even more, and a small part of his mind realises he’s about to be lost to it.  He fights a second battle, in his mind, stamping his iron will back down on the rage until its under control.  Glancing back he sees Sicarius and Celestine yelling at him to get his arse through the portal, and he steps backwards towards it, blasting away with the Hand of Dominion.  Skarbrand is slowly being driven back, but Guilliman is down to his last shell – he aims it at Amalrich’s Black Blade still buried in Skarbrand’s chest, and blows it apart, shredding through Skarbrand and knocking him off the platform.  With Skarbrand dealt with, but more demons pressing in, he sprints for the portal and dives through after Sicarius and Celestine as it the portal seals shut behind him.

 

Guilliman finds himself standing amongst the survivors of the Terran Crusade.  About two thirds of the warriors who escaped the cells remain alive, and Voldus and his Grey Knights have remained relatively unscathed.  He notices Cypher standing with a group of similar armoured marines, and realises they must have been waiting for Cypher in the webway.  Sylandri Veilwalker shares a loaded glance with Belisarius Cawl, before speaking to Guilliman – they have to move quickly.  She has Skyweaver Jetbikes scouting this area of the webway, and they are reporting Chaos Marines in blue and gold on the way.  It dawns on Guilliman that, through sheer luck or patented Just As Planned shenanigans, Magnus knew that Guilliman would end up here and was lying in wait.  But why…?  It’s Voldus who comes up with an answer, dredging up knowledge from the libraries of Titan.  Isn’t there a Webway Gate in the Imperial Palace?  Of course!  Guilliman deduces that Magnus already knows of this gate (there were rumours that the Crimson King had already passed through it once after all) and he was now simply waiting for the defences to be deactivated to allow Guilliman’s passage.  Curse you Magnus!  A masterful plan!  Guilliman despairs at being so close to his destination, but unwilling to risk letting Magnus get a foot through.  Veilwalker offers an alternative – if he can’t go to Terra, why not go to Luna?  Oh yeah, btw, there’s a long dormant Webway Gate on Terra’s moon. 

 

To Luna it is.  The Terran Crusade sets off, with Cypher and his Fallen in tow, led by the Harlequin’s of the Veiled Path.  Its not long before they come under attack by the Thousand Sons though, Rubricae and Tzaangors hounding them at every turn.  But Celestine cuts a way through, and the Imperials continue a fighting advance until eventually the reach the portal.  Donning helms and rebreathers, they step through the portal onto the surface of Luna.  It’s a harsh transition, from the relatively comfortable environment of the Webway to the harsh vacuum of space.  The crusade emerges into a deep crater and, with rays of Sol itself spilling over the lip, bound their way up the sides of the pit.  Veilwalker begins to incant a ritual to seal the gate, but before she can finish the gate explodes outwards with a rush of blue energy as Rubric Marines step out of the gate.  They being pouring salvoes of firing into the exposed Marines clambering up out of the crater.  Guilliman  halts the retreat at the top of the crater, standing amongst a graveyard of old decommissioned and junked starships.  Above them, Terra shines in the sky and Guilliman is at last in sight of his destination.  But its not ever yet – the Thousand Sons are on Luna.  Guilliman knows that all the psychic activity will have undoubtedly tripped all the alarms so he just needs to hold off until help arrives.

 

The Thousand Sons are pouring out of the portal now, and Guilliman orders his forces to positions at the top of the crater, laying fire down into the Traitors.  The Thousand Sons are getting hammered by the fire from the crater, but pulse of dark power swirls at the gate as a wave of dread sweeps over the loyalists.  Magnus the Red had arrived.  He throws out a huge shield of warp energy, and the Thousand Sons forces advance quickly up the slopes of the crater unharmed behind its protection.  Seeing his position at the top of the crater about to be overrun, Guilliman orders his forces to pull back to the wrecks of the spaceships for cover.  The Thousand Sons rise over the lip and begin advancing again, Magnus floating up behind them, wreaking havoc with his Psychic Powers.  Guilliman realises Magnus will tear through his army if left free, and launches into a charge, jumping off the edge of the crater to strike at him in the air.  Magnus just manages to parry, and they both go flying into the wreckage of the ships.  Behind them, the Battle of Luna rages on.

 

Guilliman rises from amongst the wreckage and looks around for Magnus, challenging the Demon Primarch to face him.  There’s pretty cool duel that takes place, but tl;dr - Magnus has the edge until the entire battlefield lights up in fire.  The Terran Defense Fleet has arrived.  Aided by telemetry uploaded by Archmagos Cawl, the Imperial Ships rain orbital fire down on the Chaos forces as teleportation flares light up – the Adeptus Custodes have also arrived, and they promptly get into wrecking face amongst the Thousand Sons.  Yellow Drop Pods also thunder-down to the surface, as the Imperial Fists make an entrance.  And amongst all the reinforcements, a trio of Valkyries bearing the sigil of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica beeline for the duel between Magnus and Guilliman.  Sisters of Silence drop out to aid Guilliman and suddenly Magnus finds his psychic edge over Guilliman completely nullified. 

 

Meanwhile, Sylandri Veilwalker sees Guilliman and Magnus locked in their challenge and realises the moment of the Final Act has arrived.  Their drama had been played out, and the “brother’s enmity burned anew”.  Signalling her Death Jester to communicate with Guilliman of her plan, she sprints for the webway portal and takes out the Sorcerers guarding it.  She hastily prepares a ritual as Guilliman, informed of the plan, and the Sisters of Silence drive Magnus back down the crater towards the gate.  Guilliman manages to drive his sword under Magnus guard, wounding him solidly, and Magnus lets out an uncontrolled blast of sorcery that blast them apart – and Magnus through the gate.  Veilwalker triggers her runestone and the gate severs completely from the Webway, cutting Magnus off from Luna.  With their Primarch gone, the rest of the Thousand Sons are mopped up.  Sylandri, and the rest of her Harlequin Troupe, have vanished as well…  The battle is over.

 

Guilliman stands amongst the gathered Imperial forces.  Tech Priests are swarming over the deactivated webway gate, but most of them (save the Custodes) are staring at the Primarch in awe. He allows the senior Imperial Fist apothecary to treat his wounds, as an enormous gold Imperial Lander touches down with more Custodes onboard, led by Shield-Captain Ty Andronitus.  He explains that the High Lords have organised Guilliman and his warriors would be brought to Terra in all haste, to travel as part of a glorious parade to the Emperor’s Palace.  After some nice descriptions of the orbital defences and Terra itself, they land at the Eternity Well spaceport.  Guilliman steps out infront of a massive crowd, and is shocked at the sights around him.  Terra looks very different from when he last saw it – where once had been industrious glory, now was buried in grotesque layers of gothic over-construction and macabre religious ornamentation.  Some more pretty cool descriptions of Terra as Guilliman and co eventually reach one of the many entrances to the Emperor’s Throne Room.

 

This one is a massive doorway that stands at the end of a towering cathedral, its space filled with millions of pilgrims who cry out in awe as not only Guilliman passes through them but the Living Saint herself.  Sicarius, Grand Master Voldus, Shield-Captain Adronitus, Cypher and his Fallen, Belisarius Cawl and Katarinya Greyfax are also accompanying Guilliman and Celestine, followed by the Battle Brothers of the Terran Crusade.  At least Guilliman reaches the foot of the stairs leading up to the doorway, where a 20 strong contingent of Custodes stood at guard.  Their leader steps forward, introduces himself as Aquila Commander Kalim Varanor, and formally asks who comes before the throne room of the Emperor.  Shield-Captain Adronitus formally announces each of the leaders of the Terran Crusade as ancient formalities played out, befitting the gravitas of the arrival of a Primarch.  The millions strong crowd hold their breath as the Aquila Commander makes his judgement.  Varanor looks to a Hooded Tech Priest that had been waiting with the Custodes, and the Tech Priest nods his head…

 

…the Primarch would pass, alone, into the throne room.  Everyone else will remain outside.  Cypher went for his pistols – he’d upheld his end of the bargain and he’d been promised entrance!  But Guilliman was not fool enough to trust the mysterious Dark Angel blindly.  He might not recognise his person but he did recognise the blade Cypher carried on his back, the sight of which made him shudder with dread.  There was no way he was allowing that near his father.  Guilliman commands the Custodian Guard to apprehend Cypher and his compatriots.  Cypher hesitates for a moment, caught between attempting escape or making a futile lunge for the doorway, before the Custodes surround him and arrest him.  They take him to a cell that, not for thousands of years, had anyone escaped from but Cypher would do just that.  But for the moment, Guilliman turns and ascends the steps to the Throne Room.  The Custodes part way for him, but the hooded Tech Priest bows before him, blurting out in binary.  Belisarius Cawl hurries up the steps to exchange binharic blurts with the other Tech-Priest before turning to Guilliman to speak of secret pacts on Mars and works nearing completion.  Cawl then turns and heads down the stairs, and into the crowd, important work on Mars requiring his attention…

 

Guilliman stands alone before the door to the throne room.  A single chime booms through the cathedral, and the sigh of million worshippers rings out as the doorway opens to reveal darkness.  Guilliman takes a breath, and steps through.  The doors close behind him.  Hours pass, the warriors of the Terran Crusade standing to attention before the throne room.  The murmurs of the crowd turn to fervent prayer, and some even step forward to offer thanks and meagre offerings to Captain Sicarius and Grand Master Voldus.  Celestine and Greyfax bail at this point, to “spread her blessings” and to “report to her Ordo Hereticus superiors”.  Ah, that’s what they’re calling it these days

 

Artificial Day turns to Artificial Night and Artificial Day again before the doors open once more, and Roboute Guilliman steps out, expression unreadable.  He demands an immediate assembly of the High Lords of Terra, and that he will be resuming his seat on that council as well as forcibly removing several High Lords from office.  He would, once again, become Lord Commander of the Imperium of Mankind.  Of his meeting with the Emperor, all Guilliman would say is that he received all the enlighten he required.  He warns the High Lords of an encroaching darkness, a terrible Warp phenomena that was manifesting over the galaxy as the war against Chaos enters a terrible new phase.  Cadia was only the beginning – from Fenris to Armageddon to Attila and Balor, all were feeling the claws of Chaos.  But hope was not lost.  New Armies would be raised, in numbers not seen since the days of the Great Crusade.  From Cawl’s forges on Mars would come new and terrible weapons whose fury the worshippers of Chaos would be unable to stand.

 

The Imperium would not drown in the tide of warfare, but instead ride upon the crest of a bloody wave to triumph against darkness.


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#3908033 Brothers, I am in White Dwarf! (Or my Word Bearers are!)

Posted by Tzen on 03 January 2015 - 01:44 PM

Wooo!
 
I have some minis in this week's White Dwarf! :D
 
This is the picture of my Word Bearers Terminators.
 
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Here is a clearer picture of the minis in question!
 
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I am pretty damn happy about this, and pretty shocked too! :D

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#4214821 ...but blood - blood is forever

Posted by poom on 03 November 2015 - 12:51 PM

So I read how you paint the white for your WE but how do you do the blood and the blue?
 
Curious. I am going to give this a ago.

Sorry for the late answer.. the blue is ultramrines blue, washed with thinned down dark tone and then drybrushed ultramarines blue again. Then I add decals and wash everything with the oilwash.
The blood is Tamya Clear Red with a bit of Chaos Black.

__________________________

I finally finished her...

"If wolves have a queen, this is she"
Lion El'Johnson, sire of the first legion

 

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#3458312 Night Lords 15th Company - TO WAR! Pg.64

Posted by Brother Heinrich on 12 September 2013 - 06:36 AM

 "centurions" (In the Legion's day that was a rank, not a synonym for giant armored toddler)

 

This needs to be on a shirt. Somebody get to work on a badass graphic.

Got you covered brother.

0fe6d0b7-7599-44fd-88bb-c064e9caacb9_zps


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#4474788 =][= E Tenebrae Lux V =][=

Posted by Captain Semper on 22 August 2016 - 03:54 AM

Section 4 – The banners of excellence
 
The Realm of Chaos is the Primus Inter Pares a third year running! This is a hat trick and a record almost impossible to beat! 
 
So here's the Primus Inter Pares
 
ETL_2016_Banner_04_Primus_Inter_Pares.jp ETL_2016_Medal_02_Primus_Inter_Pares.gif
 
 
Furthermore, like last year, the Champions of each faction (i.e. the ones that made the most points) will be awarded the Badge of the Champion:
 
 
Codex:  Halandaar
 
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Blood Angels: evildrcheese
 
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Dark Angels: Tanyr
 
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Space Wolves: dantay_xv
 
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Forces of the Imperium: Passeltov
 
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Realm of Chaos: Chaeron, SlaveToDarkness
 
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Horus Heresy: Demonl
 
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Now moving on to the other badges of excellence:
 
The Badge of the Hero: This goes to all who have successfully completed all of their vows and at least one vow worth the maximum of 3,000pts.
 
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The eligible participants are:
 
Augustus b'Raass
dantay_xv
Demonl
Dreadclaw
evildrcheese
Filkarion
Kraigallach
Kurama
NovemberIX
RikuEru
Sturm Moonwolf
SW1
Tanyr
undeadsoldier
Wolf Lord Kieran
Wolf_Pack
Zujara
 
The Badge of the Martyr is awarded to any participant completing the maximum possible of 15,000 points (5 vows x 3,000pts/vow)
 
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The eligible participants are:
 
Chaeron
 

SlavetoDarkness 
 

 

The Badge of the Artificer: This is one of the most difficult awards as it is purely subjective and ultimately unfair...
 
But here goes:
 
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UltraRich:
 

Hidden Content

 
 

Brother Chaplain Kage:
 

Hidden Content

 
 

Uprising:
 

Hidden Content

 
 

Atia:
 

Hidden Content

 
 

Mithilforge:
 

Hidden Content

 
 
I would also like make some honorary mentions based on innovative or outright crazy ideas:
 
 

demonl for painting up not one but two Warlord Titans! And he didn’t stop there. He went on to paint a Knight and infantry too.
 

Hidden Content

 
 

WarriorFish for his Knight with LED eyes!
 

Hidden Content

 
 

Hyperion for putting together the past and the future with his retro Field Police "counts as" the newest kids in the block: the Deathwatch! (and the helmet stripes)
 

Hidden Content

 
 

TheOneTrueZon. Look at those dozer blades! (and the tartan lining)

 

Hidden Content

 
 
The ETL Collegia Titanicus: This is a new ETL Badge of excellence to reward those committed enough to complete at least one Titan during the ETL. The ETL Collegia Titanicus will be expanded further to award badges depending on the type of Titan each participant completed and will create specific badges for previous years as well... In the mean time, all those who completed a Titan this year but also in the past, feel free to wear it. 
 
If your name is not in the list below/ please send me a link of your ETL post with the completed Titan in it and I will happily add it below. Furthermore, we will try to produce Collegia Titanicus badges corresponding to each specific ETL and with the specific Titan type. Until then please use the badge below.
 
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demonl [HH]
 
You can see the image above in the honorary mentions (running out of images allowed per post) 
 

Ninjaman [HH]
 

undeadsoldier [Chaos]

 

Warsmith Gorrched [Chaos]

 

And if I have missed any, let me know an I'll add it to the list.

 
Section 5 – Captain Semper's closing notes
 
Well, ETL V – The Shadow Guard Edition is over. Half a decade of ETL and it still goes strong! With 470 participants and the most points completed ever, I can say this was arguably the most successful ETL of all. As usually, the conduct of the frater during the event was exemplary and in line with the best traditions of the B&C.
 
Some interesting things happened this year that may need further analysis. First it was the sharp decline in participation levels in the Blood Angels and the IFOR Factions. Or to be more precise the return to their more normal levels after a spike in ETL IV. In the case of IFOR it can be mainly (but not exclusively) explained by the hype created by the Mechanicum Codices last year. Unfortunately this hype did not create a deep routed following within the B&C community, with the natural result of a sharp depression in participation levels. The Blood Angels experienced a huge surge last year for no systemic reason other than the fraters’ enthusiasm and the sense that the BAs should be leading in a painting event such as the ETL. This attitude continued this year resulting in a very impressive performance as analysed in the relevant section above. Be that as it may, the Blood Angels managed to beat the ETL III participation levels and completions so one may argue that ETL IV although not repeatable (or is it?) it certainly transformed the Faction’s ETL profile. IFOR on the other hand, seem to have lost its direction this year, but next year it will be bolstered with the Deathwatch. Maybe it’s time for a single IFOR Strategium? Hmmm…
 
On the other end of the spectrum, this year the Space Wolves (not least because of the new forum’s Champion’s efforts) came together in what was a show of force that ticked all the boxes in SWs ETL characteristics. Slow start – explosive end, large average vow (in fact the largest of ETL) and loads of Heroes to boot. And on top of that their participation rose to an unprecedented 51 – putting them for the first time at par with the BAs, DAs and even the Codex. And the rest, as they say, is history.  
 
Now my beloved DAs…. The valiant efforts of those who completed their vows shined through as a beacon of hope but for a Faction that has become Primus Inter Pares this was a very lukewarm performance. I sure hope that the DAs will get back to full strength again next year and will be challenging the top position again.
 
What I need to think about now is the future of the event.
 
One thing that will definitely go is the Badge of the Artificer. It is a torment for me to sit down and choose among like a thousand outstanding entries, with no set criteria and ultimately with no qualifications. It’s not that I’m a painting guru, nor have I any Golden Demon credentials. Besides the ETL is not about painting excellence, it’s about commitment and motivation. Still there might be a substitute, but it’s early days yetl…
 
Another issue to address is balance. The ETL was never supposed to be this super balanced event to begin with especially as the interest of the frater is not proportionally divided among the ETL Factions. It was supposed to be more like light-hearted fun with a competitive edge. Over the years a number of rules were introduced such as the points’ limit and completion rate adjustment to keep things a bit more balanced without losing sight of the core ideas of the ETL. Still there seem to be further room to improve.
 
HH in particular is extremely popular and it increasingly feels like an entire setting vs. individual 40k Codices rather than the Codex vs. Codex that was the initial inspiration of the event. At the other end of the spectrum, participation levels in the IFOR are materially lower and it comprises many diverse Codices and (perhaps more importantly) Strategiums. There are other things as well, and all will be considered, taking into account not only balance but also the ETL mechanics and practical application... One thing is for sure, ETL VI will see some important differences!
 
Before I close I'd like to thank yet again the Admins (Kurgan and Brother Tyler) for allowing the ETL to run for a fifth year in a row! I would also like to thank the Supreme Grand Master of the Inner Circle The Shadow Guard for giving so much of his time to shape the imagery of the ETL! This fifth ETL is dedicated to him as a token of appreciation and gratitude!
 
I would also like to thank all the Frater and Mods who put an extra effort to create an environment of friendly rivalry - too many to list individually and missing one would be too unfair! These are the frater that rose to the challenge to lead the ETL effort in their respective forums and with wondrous results!
 
Looking ahead, there are the usual events like the Call of Chaos and the Loyalty and Treachery and who knows what else... And of course a refreshed ETL VI will be again with us next May!
 
 
So until next year, farewell!
 
Captain Semper
Member of the Inner Circle
Master of Recruits


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#4719684 Vehicle Mechanics in 8th Edition: Discussion/Speculation

Posted by Charlo on 24 April 2017 - 09:57 PM

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#3601826 Abaddon vs Sigismund

Posted by A D-B on 24 February 2014 - 05:04 AM

I KNOW. I KNOW THE ANSWER. 

 

But then, I cheated. I wrote the answer a few months ago.

 

It may still get changed in editing, mind you.


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#4560492 Only victory is honourable - White scars - Siege of Terra

Posted by One-eye on 12 November 2016 - 06:13 PM

I know it's been quite long, but life is not a straight line smile.png

 

I've finally finished my Terran - Unification Wars Veteran - White Scars Contemptor.

 

Brother Bunraku - Contemptor Dreadnought of the XXIVth Brotherhood

Put into stasis just after the Vth Legion reunited with its Primarch on Mundus Planus.

Reactivated for the Siege of Terra. Status unknown - Presumed destroyed

 

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The idea was that during the desperate times of the siege of Terra, no forces could be laid back, whatever the beliefs. Only victory is honourable for White Scars !

I deliberately let him quite plain and different from my other WS. I avoided red markings, except some simple red stripes. The idea was to keep the WS colour scheme, without all tribal markings or anything referring to Chogorian culture. Some Japanese reference, to keep him tied to my WS without being Mongol strictly speaking. And of course badges of victories from the Unification Wars.

 

 

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You can expect more gold in the upcoming reinforcements ! And maybe some speed too, if I keep the rhythm.


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#3976805 -= The Golden Throne =-

Posted by GMMStudios on 14 March 2015 - 04:47 PM

Hey BnC! I just wanted to hop over and share this with all of you.  I figured if it should be posted anywhere, it is here!  I hope you like it.

 

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Gothic science fiction.  Say these words to anyone with an interest in Warhammer, and no matter how long ago, how fleeting that interest was you will undoubtedly conjure from the subconscious an image of a pointed arch surrounded by a baroque behemoth of a futuristic church, emphasis on the industrial.  Warhammer has taken this visual theme over the top so far, it is almost cliche to make light of it. It is it's own inside joke, Gothic for it's own sake.  Let's consider however the real genius behind the story of the Emperor. Examine that "Gothic" behind the "science fiction" and one can see the irony in the visual of the Gothic, being so excessive, overtaking the depth of the Emperor's tragedy. While we might think it frivolous, being so accustomed to waves of visual decoration, in reality the Imperium and the story of our entombed hero is Gothic in every sense of the word.
 
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With that understood, that we all know the first of the trinity of Gothic representations, the architectural, we should briefly look back at the history of the word in the cultural sense.  With roots in Greek boiling down to "outsider," later becoming the Barbarian and Gothic essentially referencing anything foreign, as well as ideas outside good taste and culture.  In the Renaissance it became a derogatory term, casting aside the towering spires, encrusted battlements and flying buttresses seen as gaudy and from a less refined era  This will lead into the third representation, which one can assume was intentional, it's use in Gothic literature.  Over the top and fanciful stories which were outside of normal convention and at the time, good taste.  Today, this sense is mirrored in the Gothic of Warhammer.  Warhammer is, with all respect, love and devotion of someone who would be willing to make this thing, complete and utter Gothic kitsch to the extreme.  Warhammer is an indulgence that cannot be compared to in cheese short of the most hardcore Trekkie, and by Emperor we love it.
 
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The origin of Gothic literature is harder to define, as the form itself much like it's antagonists is a hazy movement somewhere between life and death in the past 200 years. Most pin it to Horace Walpole, writer of Castle of Otranto and builder of Strawberry Hill, which is less infamous but equally as Gothic.  Strawberry Hill was a place of decadent improvisation.  Gothic in architecture and act of creation; Walpole built it for sake of itself, and improvised his Gothic novel at the same time within it.  It's purpose was to celebrate itself.  Many ideals coalesce into another that is more than the sum of it's parts. As a son the first Prime Minister and member of Parliament, he found himself with time to build for the fun of it, for the look of it, because he could.  
 
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 If this were the sort of structure to come from Walpole's mind, then the setting of his first Gothic novel and from then on the style as a whole, would be equally as important.  Absolutely, setting is one of the most important and fundamental aspects of the Gothic. Castles, churches, and massive mountains each being different in form but in presence they are the same - a treacherous place. The setting itself is an antagonist in the story, an oppressive cavern that is dangerous to enter; one fears getting lost, falling to one's death, or being buried alive.  They are often beautiful to admire, but also oppressive and instill fear into the protagonist and reader.  One feels a sense of claustrophobia, a fear of imprisonment in hostile and ambiguous architecture. And on another level a fear of being imprisoned in our own mind, being forced to deal with the deep dark places we have surrounded ourselves with.
 
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Life and death are important themes in the Gothic. What is dead cannot be laid to rest.  The theme of everlasting life, except with the twist it isn't quite what we expected or hoped it to be.  It is both a curse and a blessing in the Gothic, with the power to live forever comes great loss, tragedy and sacrifice.  Condemned to a twisted version of a former form, these characters often in finding everlasting life, wish for it to finally end but cannot due to obligation. 
 
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Bringing the dead back to life is the central focus of Shelley's Frankenstein.  A novel in the Gothic mode, considered by many to be the first science fiction novel, the book is a testament to how easily the two blend together. In the novel Frankenstein gives his monster undeath, return to life, that being the great taboo and in history seen as something reserved for god.  The resurrection of Jesus can be seen as a direct proclamation that this is restricted to god, and not mortals.  So it is easy to understand why it is such an important theme in a literary movement surrounded by Christianity.  The variation to Frankenstein is the use of science over religion or magic, at the time a new form of power and forbidden knowledge, moral being it should be respected equally and for the same reasons, despite the difference in source of condemnation - nature versus god. 
 
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The threat of condemnation often follows this concept of forbidden knowledge. The notion of forbidden knowledge spans much of human literature over time, but in the case of the Gothic represents something taboo.  Something that if understood or used could bring ascension to the level of the gods, but with great cost. We should not forget the subtitle to Frankenstein - "The Modern Prometheus." Prometheus was a god of Greek myth who saw the plight of man and, by stealing away fire and giving it to humanity, sacrificed himself to be eternally chained to a rock and feasted on by crows.  The tragedy being, his great sacrifice was followed by his eternal imprisonment. As readers we find ourselves sympathizing with these characters.  Despite the transgression, we might still wish peace upon them from a suffering we cannot truly understand as mortals. 
 
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All of these principles that help form the Gothic are overshadowed by it's most core - the sublime.  Edmund Burke in his 1757 treatise on aesthetics, compared beauty and the sublime on equal terms and fleshed out the idea for the first time.  Burke brought forward that while beauty was everything aesthetically pleasing; encompassing everything smooth, delicate, symmetrical, there was an equal or sister notion of the sublime.  A feeling between terror and awe, it is the response an individual has to a massive waterfall or mountain. Irrational, overwhelming, over the top, the sublime hints at something timeless, something divine.
 
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The sublime is the most critical glue of the Gothic.  A work can have the characters, the traditional themes. it can be set in history or space in the far future, but without the sublime it is simply an exercise in theme and narrative. A great comparison - ALIEN and ALIENS.  The former was a great work of Gothic fiction in which Scott makes us face our deepest fears and pits the crew against an unseen and seemingly divine being.  ALIENS and all further movies essentially being the same movie, with the same tropes and basic ideas, however they are not Gothic.  Being an idea that simply cannot be injected, the sublime, the difference lies in the direction, atmosphere and aesthetic. Forgetting the fact that by nature any sequels cannot be as shocking and surprising due to the image of the alien being revealed in the first, most directorial choices and guns blazing style simply doesn't leave room for suspense and true horror. Regardless, ALIEN stands as the pinnacle of Gothic science fiction in modern time.
 
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Therefore we see Burke was correct, the sublime is not something tangible.  It isn't something, unlike beauty, that can be measured, divided mathematically, compared and discussed. It's power is that it simply is, and one has no control over it.  Fear and impression defies taste, preconceived notions, and bias.  It goes beyond other modes of simply having a mood though.  It isn't good and evil, black and white, action and good deeds affirmed.  It is ambiguous in every way. makes us uncomfortable at a primordial level that is hard to define.  It takes our most primal fears and presents them to us as a mountain cresting over the protagonists horizon.  Sexuality, fear of death, the uncanny valley,  by testing and toying with these lines an unnerving power is added to the Gothic.  The appeal is the allure mixed with the forbidden.  The sublime is therefore the glue that holds the Gothic together, without these tested boundaries and questioning of perception and reality, simply being an exercise in visual theme, an action movie with a clear beginning and conclusion and nothing more.
 
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I suppose it would be my duty, in conclusion, to return these ideas to the story of the Emperor.  To illuminate without question what makes the story so appealing and truly Gothic as attested earlier.  It would be much more appropriate, wouldn't it, to leave it as ambiguous as the future of our protagonist, and humanity, in the 41st Millennium. After all, the only thing certain, is in the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war.
 
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On History (Or, Why No Marines?)
 
Anyone who has thought about the background of the Warhammer universe has considered the years between modern time and the 31st millennium.  In my own daydream's conclusions, it goes back to one notion:
What if Gavrilo Pricip never shot Franz Ferdinand in that side street 100 years ago?  What if the first assassins bomb was a dud and injured no one?  What if Ferdinand's driver simply asked for directions? I could keep going, but the general question leaves a lot of room for potential differences.  In a different timeline, an alternative universe, Ferdinand lives.  The powder keg of early 20th century politics simply never goes off, but slowly deflates.  Highly unlikely, but that is how these things go.  When you think about it, the assassination is just as unlikely a scenario.  However this could mean a potential 20th century devoid of war.  35 million people do not die in WW1.  Hitler is just a failed artist and lives out his days in (albeit grumpy) peace. A double eagle banner flies over Vienna in 2015, a cosmopolitan capital of a European Union and possibly including Russia to the Pacific with some revolution potentially being averted. 
 
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Now that we have a basis, let's reverse engineer from the known beginnings of the Imperium in the 41st Millenium.  Take the double eagle, a relative union of humanity, and stories of great unification wars.  Draw lines between the two and there is certainly possible pathways for something out of Europe to create the legacy of the Emperor.  This theory is the inspiration for the roof.  These are statues and relics of the lineage of the Emperor taken from the surface and mounted above the Emperor, to eternally watch over him.  Permanently mounted in a new space unreachable.
 
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Some might ask "why no Space Marines?" It is true that Marines are critical to the story of the Emperor, however a king does not honor his grandsons on his own personal throne, but his ancestors.  The throne would also not likely be built of any STC technology and thus would be original and to the tastes of the Emperor specifically.  This is an omnipotent god-emperor; he would not be confined to the same geometry and basics designs of the Imperium.
 
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On Technique
 
The Throne basis is composed of wood, with a mannequin seated. Built over top with clay and attached mixed model parts, jewelry, toys, figures, and wood and plastic stock. The sculpture was then primed with metallic spray and then painted with a #4 brush.  That #4 brush saw it's birth and retirement in the scope of this project and is entombed in the back of the mannequin.
 
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#4559409 ++IV Legion: A Grimdark Horror++

Posted by Candleshoes on 11 November 2016 - 08:38 AM


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+XLIII - IV+


'Are you an angel?' The child asked, her voice no higher than a whisper.


'Once... perhaps.'


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#4087783 ++ Turpe Et Dicere ++

Posted by Hyaenidae on 15 June 2015 - 07:35 AM

++ Truth and Justice ++

-A History of the Unification Wars- 

 

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-- Chapter 1: Introductions --

 

 

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

 

The decision was made.
 
Delah Shawae, Daughter of Gaia, knew peace with this decision, the calm echoes of her faith soothing her anxieties. Here, in the Living Temple of the Blessed Mother, surrounded by the near-extinct splendor of Terra's long dead bounty, she was unassailable. Untouchable. A small smile turned the corner of her lip, this small moment of serenity easing her heart. With her decision made, her next course of action was simple; thanking Gaia or the life that was breathed into her.
 
After all, her ashes would return to the Goddess's embrace soon.
 
Stepping towards the altar, her bare feet softly padding through the blessed and rare green grass planted into the aisle, Delah knelt before a living sculpture of Gaia, twisting cedar and willow branches shaping her gentle facial features, leaves and vines weaving back into flowing hair laced with nearly extinct flowers, adding a soft scent in the air that calmed the heart like no other. Small, genetically-crafted incandescent insects lit the room warmly, while they fluttered gently through a light breeze that cut through the temple, rustling leaves in a symphony sung since Gaia's awakening, a plainsong made by nature itself. Touching the small reflection pool at the feet of the Goddess with a petite henna-tattooed hand, Delah began singing lightly with the wind, a harmonic nonsense of a song that created it's own flow and rhythm, filling the room with the sound of simple joy. Oh, how Man had failed their Mother, how they had ruined her, stole the air from her lungs and the light from her eyes. When the Second Awakening came, though, the Mother would reclaim her children, strike down the vileness of war and technology, and the Earth would flourish once more. Delah sighed softly as she daydreamed of running through a real, living, field of flowers under a brilliant sky of the purest blues and whites, pinned with golden sunlight.
 
The moment of serenity died with the sound of the chapel door opening wide. Distantly, much screaming could suddenly be heard without the door buffering the sound, the crash of stone and the crackling of Hell unleashed. Slowly, the door closed, an action meant to show respect, only allowing the horror raging outside the temple to pour in for longer, the sound finally dying to the shaking gasp of a hive-city in it's death throes as the oaken door finally shut.
 
Cinder and smoke blocked the scent of flowers. The electric humming of fully active warplate filled the air with the sound of technology crafted for death. The sound drove the insects away, darkening the room to match the sudden change in mood.
 
Delah's joy died.
 
The quiet steps of armoured boots on the creaking wood floor grew louder as he approached, finally kneeling beside her, with grinds and squeals of metal shifting. The giant's breathing was a small, bass note in the background, as he patiently waited for Delah to finish her prayer. Slowly, she pulled her fingertips from the water, watching the ripples reflect from the pool walls, gathering her thoughts as she prepared herself.
 
“I've made my decision.” Delah's voice was quiet, reserved. She lifted her eyes, and looked upon her visitor.
 
He was gigantic, his layered warplate giving him even greater size and girth. There was an echo of the Old Night to his wargear, a distant vision of monsters like the Ursh, like the Oxitanians, the Xeric tribes, the Legiones Tontrua. Burning books and lightning bolts were enshrined in silver, gold and black marble, framing flowing inscriptions carved into storm-cloud gray plate scarred with alchemical scoring. The reek of annihilation followed his wake, his armour rich with the scent of hot ash, promethium, and shattered marble. Long strips of vellum hung from a pair of Solar devices hung upon his chest, writings of rationality and Godlessness, with further scrolls hung from his back like a cloak, words ancient and difficult to understand detailing the glory of a secular Humanity. His face, though, was youthful, boyish even. Sandy, unruly brown hair topped curious hazel eyes, freckles dotting his nose and high cheekbones, between the ragged ridges of scars faded and fresh. Those forest green eyes, lined with black circles, so deep in sorrow, so rich in emotion. Any rumour that Delah had heard of the Tyrant of the Himilazia's creating his warriors without souls died when she saw into them.
 
There was a soul in there. One that was trapped, forced down, and enslaved, Delah realized with a start. She suddenly felt pity for this creature, so broken and confused.
 
The young titan smiled knowingly, a trace of tiredness in his voice. “I know what you're going to say. Please, rethink your decision, mamzel. It doesn't have to end this way.” Carbon-blackened fingertips lightly touched the tops of her hands, rough with their cast-iron texture. “It is rare when we give time to reflect. Often, such time has passed when my kind arrive. The people of this entire Hab-Sector spoke on your behalf, told us of your missions of mercy and kindness, of your selflessness. This was all that stayed Master Lucan's hand; your reputation. My brothers and I may have a terrible duty, but we are not wanton in our destruction. We save what we can, who we can, to improve all of Mankind. You deserve life, Daughter Delah. You deserve to spread your kindness for the rest of your days. We need people like you in this world, especially as it heals, and I would do much to ensure you could carry on with your acts of mercy and love.”
 
He took her hands in both of his now, engulfing her tiny fingers with his massive gauntlets. He looked intensely at her, his eyes almost begging. “All you must do is recant. Accept the Truth. Turn away from ignorance, and welcome reason. Deny the lie your faith is, and you can spread life. Please, mamzel. Don't do this.”
 
She finally returned his sad smile, with one of her own. Tears blurred her vision of this kindly murderer, desecrating her home with his supposed kindness. “I cannot. The Goddess has given me everything, and if only you believe, you could receive her bounty for eternity.”
 
He shook his head slightly. “Only science and genetics can save the earth and it's people, Daughter. Already, He has begun repairing the human genome, healing thousands of years of nuclear scarring. He is refilling the oceans, and has plans to rebirth much of the lost fauna and flora of ancient times. Given time, after Unification, Terra will live again as it once did, and you could be a part of that. Many of your order already have, and are now aiding geneticists with their work. Not whispers to nothingness, begging for change from a non-existent entity; real action, with real results. You must see the truth of this. You must wake up.”
 
She turned away, remembering her vision of the field of flowers, of actually seeing her vision alive. The moment of hesitation faded instantly. “No,” she said with a strength returned. Her chosen path was final. Nothing else needed to be said.
 
The giant gently released her hands with a morose sigh, looking downward to the floor. “Then it's time, Mamzel Delah.” Slowly, the giant stood, towering over her meek frame, clad in it's pain white shift. He offered his hand, which she took with a welcome nod. He didn't let it go as they began walking slowly towards the door, and she was strangely grateful again. She was shaking with fear, and keeping her feet had suddenly become as difficult as taking a calm breath. She glanced at him again, seeing the sorrow writ on his face.
 
“What is your name?”
 
He seemed taken aback by that. Delah assumed most people were too busy screaming to ask.
 
“My name is Noam Mahntag, mamzel.”
 
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart, to halt the sick feeling in her gut. Trying, and failing again. Only the core of her everlasting love for Gaia kept her from losing consciousness.
 
“Will it hurt, Noam?” Her voice broke.
 
He said nothing for the next few steps, finally speaking as he touched the handle of the door.
 
“Yes.” He finally said, almost....ashamed.
 
The door opened, and the peace of the temple was lost forever.
 
The entire skyline of Urusalim Hive was aflame. The Holy City, the spiritual home of so many of mankind's religions, was dying horribly. Minarets and temples, towers and idols, churches and fanes, all fell to ruin under the masterful destruction wrought by the Imperial Heralds, and were put to the fire. Other giants strode through the ancient plaza, dragging tomes and priests alike to a massive inferno at its center, condemning that which was contaminated by the ignorance of faith to the light of pure fire. The scream of chainaxes barely overrode the scream of an entire society dying in terrible pain. The crash of falling statues and towers shook the ground, the thrashing of a victim near death, undercut by bass tones of further shaped charges bringing down more. Slowly, the plaza fell silent, as Daughter Delah of the Temple of the Blessed Mother strode down the steps to the plaza, to the towering flames of humanity's sins being washed away in the purity of the inferno. All knew of her, all had felt the touch of her kind heart. She had crossed violent religious divides in the entire hab-sector, and had been a champion of the destitute and weak, no matter their creed or faith. Even the gray-clad warriors stood idle suddenly, understanding the gravity of this moment, pausing in their whirlwind of destruction.
 
They were before the fire now. This close, it reddened her skin, drew sweat from her brow. Her mouth was dry, her eyes wet. Noam's voice was the only thing she could hear, over the sound of the crackling fires and her heart pounding painfully in her chest.
 
“I beg you, one last time, mamzel. If not for yourself, then think of how many lives you could save by leading from example. These people adore you, and if you could see the wisdom of the Imperial Truth, then they would follow.” Noam's was steady, composed, resolved. The face of a devout child given a terrible burden.
 
Delah could barely raise her voice to a whisper. “No. I follow the Goddess's light, and I will not turn away.” Noam shut his eyes slowly, and turned his face to the flames. He began lifting her by the back of her neck.
 
“Noam?” Her voice was wavering, her fear barely held in check. Tears poured down her face. “I don't want to die in pain. Please.”
 
Noam opened his eyes again. He nodded his understanding sadly, and she smiled weakly.
 
“Thank you.” She breathed. She closed her eyes, and imagined the flowers.
 
Noam snapped the priestess's spine, and cast her corpse to the fire.
 
The entire Hab-Block exploded with the pitiful howls of the broken-hearted, as Noam's brethren began taking the city apart again.
 
Noam Mahntag, Champion of Heavenfall, Iconoclast, wept as he watched Delah's body blacken.
 
He wasn't sure why.
 
 


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A Pictographic History of the Heavenfall Chapter, Iconoclasts, XVII Legion; First Series

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Chapter Champion Noam Mahntag

 

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Iconoclast-Delegatus Lucan Ystraid


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#4265883 + The Unification Wars +

Posted by Apologist on 01 January 2016 - 07:08 PM

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Hesitantly, the rubricist coughed. His overseer looked over, lenses coiling as his vis-spectacles adjusted. His expression was irritable – more so than usual, the rubricist thought to himself, glumly.

 

'I have told you more than once not to disturb me,' began the overseer. He raised a finger to stop the rubricist interrupting, and continued. 'There is little in these archives as-is; and even less that requires me to hold your hand. Make the decision, rubricist.' With that, the overseer turned back to his own datascroll. The rubricist, clearly agitated, remained for a moment, until the overseer dismissed him more angrily.

 

As the rubricist travelled slowly back to his station deep in the under-cellars, his mind was turbulent. He wished he'd never thought to check the deleted remnants. Old files shunted here were – in principle, at least – unreadable, unusable; at least without skills unknown to the Adeptus Mechanicus in these benighted days. He drew his stool up the his writing desk and took a deep breath before striking the rune of ignition on the recovered dataengine.

 

Lambent runeglow from the dusty slate gave his face an unhealthy and sinister under-lighting. These files were different. The encryption had prevented them being accessed; even by the machine spirits intended to destroy them. Like an airtight travel chest taken down in a shipwreck, the contents had lurked unmarked and unnoted for centuries. Perhaps longer.

 

The rubricist raised a finger, then hesitated. He bit his lip, then depressed the rune of resurrection. The files spooled. They were incomplete, patchy, but as he began to read, his mouth hung open as wide as his disbelieving eyes...

 

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [fatal error] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [inload traction located] [exloading] +

 

It is the 30th Millennium. For more than twenty-five centuries, mankind has been bound in unceasing genocide, struggle and atrocity. Contact has long been lost with worlds beyond the solar system, and the so-called Dark Age of Technology is an irrelevant myth to the barbaric wretches that grub a living amongst the ruins of Terra. 

 

Since time immemorial, cruel masters, inspirational madmen and monstrous warlords have arisen and burned the world and boiled away the oceans with forbidden arsenals of dirty atomic, biological and alchaemical agents. Each sends their ignorant armies marching across the haunted dustbowls that make up the hostile planet to victory and eventual defeat. Humanity battles for Terra's meaningless territory, meagre resources and thin glory, their lifeblood wetting the dead soil over and over again in forgotten battles.

 

Mars and Luna have looked away, wracked with their own civil wars, and the cradle world has slipped into irrelevance, a dusty and ruined jewel. Against this, a New Man arose. Long-hidden, he names himself the Master of Mankind. Leading his bio-engineered super-warriors – the dread Thunder Warriors – the warlord conquered one techno-barbarian tribe after another, until the cry was taken up that an Emperor had arisen; an Emperor of blood and steel – and hope.

 

Building and refining his nascent empire tirelessly, the Emperor's foes gather their strength against this new threat. The Thunder Warriors have been superceded by his new creation, the twenty Legiones Astartes. With this advanced army of elevated post-humans, clad in the finest armour and bearing the best weaponry the Emperor's scientists can craft, the Emperor intends to stare down the jealous eyes of Mars and Luna – and look beyond to the sea of stars itself.

 

His ambition is boundless, his conviction complete. His vision is as inspiring as it is terrifying – nothing less than casting back the shroud of Old Night and unifying humanity in a mighty galaxy-spanning Imperium.

 

Before he can strike for the stars, however, Terra must be pacified. Humanity will kneel before the Emperor – or it will be crushed.

 

To be a man in such times is to dwell in terror and ignorance. It is to live in a time of great change; of terror, brotherhood, fear and ambition. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be relearned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for the struggle to survive allows no such luxury. In the darkness of these last days humanity stands at the brink of creeping extinction. These are the tales of those times.

 

+ [terminax: file ends] [spooling] [proceed?] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [pictcapt file] [spooling] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [pictcapt file] [spooling] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [pictcapt file] [spooling] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [pictcapt file] [spooling] [inload traction located] [exloading]+

 

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+ [terminax: file ends] [spooling] [proceed?] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [datalog] [spooling] [transcript unclear] [SCRAPSHUNTERRORABORT] +

+ [spooling] [proceed?] +

+ [spooling] [proceed?] +

+ [spooling] [proceed?] +


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#4126945 Ladies and gents, please welcome to the stage...

Posted by Brother Chaplain Kage on 24 July 2015 - 10:43 AM

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#4321454 ++ Turpe Et Dicere ++

Posted by Hyaenidae on 28 February 2016 - 08:41 PM

 

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"Do not pass by my epitaph, traveler.

 

But having stopped, listen and learn, then go your way.
There is no boat in Hades, no ferryman Charon,
No caretaker Aiakos, no dog Cerberus.
All we who are dead below
Have become bones and ashes, but nothing else.
I have spoken to you honestly, go on, traveler,
Lest even while dead I seem talkative to you."
 
-Ancient Romanii Tomb, Anon.

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A Pictographic History of the Heavenfall Chapter, Iconoclasts, XVII Legion; First Series, Second Iteration

 

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++++ Centurion Noam Mahntag, Chapter Champion, 7th (Heavenfall) Chapter, 2nd Battalion ++++

 


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