The Tempest Hounds

[Brother Ambroz]

What is hate? What is it really? Some would say it is the cause of war, the cause of suffering, but he doesn't believe that. Real hate....that is what has driven him the past ten thousand years. That's what made him kill innocents, murder brothers from the other legions and betray his brothers within his own legion.

He thought of this often. Mostly when he was alone in his chambers, tattooing what little of his own flesh was left and listening to the moans of the damned. He stopped for a moment, glancing up at the golden and purple amniotic tank from which the loudest of the screams eminated from. It had once been a lord of the Emperor's Children, Emilian. They'd fought side by side in the past. He had thought he could....depend on him, but not trust. He'd been wrong. They'd been working together, their goals aligned. A small Mechanicum outpost they'd raided had held the secrets to build a warhound titan. The warhound, while the smallest of titans, was still a formidable force to be reckoned with.....and he wanted it. Fulgrim's son, however wanted it as well. Once the Mechanicum and their allies had slain, the two leaders met once more. That was when the Emperor's children showed their true colors. Before the Night Lords could speak they were scythed down. Newly minted squads and veterans both were killed. It wasn't over though. The Atramentar, led by their champion Halion teleported directly to their lord and commander. Forming a wall of shields, the marched to Emilian and charged. Thunderhammers and lightning claws met chainswords in a brutal clash. Emilian hadn't known about the terminators.

The Night lords had taken the child of Fulgrim back to their piritical starfort. The structure was the size of a small hive. It had been taken many years ago, during the days of the scouring. The operation had taken a great deal of subterfuge, something Ambroz hadn't thought he possessed. Regardless, with help from his newly aqcuired allies, the Fallen angel Zaraknyel and the Magos Valerius, the Night lord was able to formulate a plan. With scrapcode acquired from the renegade techpriest, they were able to disguise their vessel from mechanical detection. That would only work for so long though. They needed to be able to get inside and board the starport without too much structural damage. That is where the powerful psyker Zaraknyel would come in assisted by Ambroz. Together they worked to perform the illusion of a Raven Guard battle barge. The schemes had paid off in the end as they were able to lock to the Magos' transponder signal. The Atramentar along with several of the Claws teleported to the Magos. Resistance crumbled. It had been used ever since then as a base for the Night Lords and their raiding partners. This is where they brought Emilian. He'd laughed at them. Laughed at the fact that they were going to inflict pain out of him. Didn't they realize he would only enjoy it? When they arrived Emilian looked around the room. There were no torture devices visable only the medicae deck. Three apothecaries crowded around him strapping him down. "Begin the procedure" Ambroz had said. They'd started by removing his eyes, then his ears and finally the longest and most delicate part, his nerves. Once it was done they had him suspended in the amniotic tank. He'd screamed insults and raged at them for weeks but finally he fell silent. The silence lasted even longer but eventually he started moaning. Then....the screams came. Extreme sensory deprivation was the only thing Ambroz could think of that would break one of Fulgrim's chosen he imagined. He'd been right. It'd taken four months but he'd finally broken. Emilian had asked for death once he'd given the information up. He was still waiting for that death even now.

The memory amused him. Ambroz returned to his tattoos. He was inscribing the names of his brothers who had fallen during the latest raid onto his underarm. It was awkward and annoying, but he wouldn't let anyone else do it. He was almost out of room, he looked to his other other arm. The flesh that had been grafted to replace his own hadn't healed completely yet. A chime sounded on the wall. He stopped working and walked to the wall. "Yes, what is it?" He asked. Whereas Ambroz's voice was noble, the voice that answered him was raspy and no louder than a whisper. "Brother, I've finished one of the weapons. It's ready." Zaraknyel answered.

"Which one is it?" Ambroz asked.

"The axe you asked for. Yours will take longer, the daemon's spirit is being...difficult."

"Very well. Bring it to me and summon Kryos."

------------

Kryos wore his power armor as he walked to his destination. He'd scarcely returned from his last raid before being summoned back to his Commander's quarters. The latest raid they'd sacked a shrineworld, boarded, killed and stolen from half a dozen pilgrim or merchant vessels. He considered it quite a success. He didn't understand why he was being summoned. He walked to the large doors, passing two Atramentar who simply nodded. The doors hissed open and he walked in. It was dark and he could hear the screams. It reminded him of their last home, Tsaltuga. Shaking off the memory, he strode down the dark hallway. Finally he reached Ambroz's sanctum. He could see his commander in a simple loincloth, sitting at his table. He heard the buzzing of the needle above the screams in the room. As he walked closer the buzzing stopped and he heard hissing. He knew what it was as Ambroz turned around slowly, not realizing it was one of his chosen warriors.

"You know when you do that, you remind me of one of Russ's whelps." Kryos said with a smile in his voice.

That did it, snapped him out of whatever reverie his commander experiencing or remembering.

"Apologies brother. What have brought back for us from your recent raid?" Ambroz asked.

He walked closer to his brother and grasped his arm in a warrior's embrace. Dark blue and black veins stood out on his master's skin. The corruption was progressing steadily Kryos noted. He was taller and bulkier than Kryos, probably more so than anyone else in the warband.

"It's a wonder your armor fits you anymore, terminator or not. The raid was a success, at least I think it was. We have the archbishop you requested, one thousand new slaves and a great deal more raw materials we salvaged from the vessels we destroyed."

"Good. You did well." Ambroz flashed him a toothy grin, revealing his leonine fangs. Kryos shivered involuntarily with pride. His master's fangs had been a gift from the gods. His own teeth had been filed to a point but they were of his own creation. "I have another task for you. While you were gone on those... errands Emilian finally informed us of where he dropped the warhound."

"Brother, I've only just gotten back..."

"Really...what exactly were you planning with your 'free time'?"

"Well umm...." Kryos was momentarily taken back. "I was going to.....train the Shadow Legion! Yes! Who else would whip those mortals into fighting shape?"

Ambroz laughed heartily. "I'll have Halion do it. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed. The titan was taken to the Emperor's Children hideout which, I've been informed is now in the possession of Necrons... You know what you'll have to do don't you?"

If looks could kill just then Ambroz would've died. He was one of the few that could get away with such disrespect. "Fine." Kryos said after a long while.

"Don't look so uptight, you look like one of the thirteenth legion. Regardless, I have a gift. Perhaps it'll help you get over losing your 'shore leave'." Ambroz moved over to a table at the side of the room. There was a large container made from some kind of obsidian rock sitting atop the table. Ambroz opened it and withdrew a beautifully crafted axe from the inside. It's face had a large daemonic head on each side and the blade edge itself glowed like molten rock.

“Is it….?” Kryos asked.

“Aye, a gift.” Ambroz affirmed.

Kryos moved to pick it up. As his hand hovered over the weapon, he could feel a tremendous warmth from it. He could also feel the ever-present urge for violence escalate. His hand closed around the haft and everything went white.

Kryos awoke with a pounding headache. His newly minted daemonic axe lay across the room. “Yeah, you’re going to need to control that…”

 

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XXXTransmission Intercepted from the Inquisitoral Vessel Holy Spear, last transmission unknownXXX

Sergeant Chronus reloaded his weapon and shouted further "encouragement" to his stormtroopers. The Holy Spear's bridge was holding so
far, but it was only a matter of time before these renegades overwhelmed them. The foe was garbed in dark blue with a dark gold
painted over their flak armor. Damn though they were good. He'd already lost three of his twenty man squad assigned to the Inquisitor.

"Lord, have we had any responses to our distress call?" Chronus asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. It's looking more and more like we'll have to give our souls over to the Emperor this day." Inquisitor Hevlorkan
replied. It had been awhile since the last group of renegade guardsman had tried to force their way into the ship's bridge and even
longer since they'd seen the last traitor astartes clad in the same midnight blue. Just then he began to hear a faint buzzing in his
ears and a powerful psychic pressure began to force itself over the Inquisitor. He buffered himself with his own psychic power but it
grew stronger and stronger with each passing second. Breath became mist in the air. The stormtroopers looked to their Inquisitor for
an answer. "Something is coming. Ready your men." said the Inquisitor, wiping blood from his nose. Throne, whatever it was it was
powerful.

As the stormtroopers reloaded and steadied themselves the began to hear heavy footsteps. At first they thought it was another traitor
astartes and they readied their plasma rifles but they soon began to realize it was too heavy for power armor.

Just then the two gun servitors the Inquisitor brough everywhere began to cycle through their heavy bolters on each of their arms, as
if searching for targets. Their bodies swiveled towards the bridge's massive doorway.

The Inquisitor was the first to realize something was wrong. He had not given the servitors the command to aim towards the door, this
was something else. Unable to rise from his knees, blood now pouring from his nose, he knew he was helpless now. He heard the loading
of the servitors' heavy bolters and knew it was over then.

The servitors opened fire on the stormtroopers, killing fully half of them outright. The others scattered for cover. One of the plasma
rifles fired and one servitor fell over dead. The other was still chewing up cover and anything unfortunate enough to have hidden behind
it. Sergeant Chronus was always known for being stealthy. When the men were up late playing cards and drinking, he would oftentimes
sneak in and overhear their thoughts on the current mission, or even on his latest decision. At times he would have to reveal himself and
repremand them. Drawing his powersword, he knew he'd have to rely on some of those same skills. He crept forward, over the modies of his
dead men. Finally he reached the rear of the hulking servitor and began hacking. The sword cut through it like butter and soon pieces
were laying around.

Chronus took stock of the situation, he had 7 men left, two badly wounded and an incapacitated Inquisitor. This wasn't going to be
good. He had no idea how bad until he heard the voice.

"This is futile. Your men could be of some use to us, you're competitent enough. Don't make me kill you, it'd be a waste of talent."
The voice was raspy as if it was ancient.

Turning around Chronus saw what it was that was speaking to them. A giant figure clad in complete black, with silver trimming along
his armor. He carried a shield with a screaming daemonic face and a wicked looking scythe in the other.

Several of the men began to look around and began to put their weapons down when the Sergeant unholstered his hellpistol and shot the
closest one. "Do not betray the Emperor in your final moments!" Chronus yelled to the remainder of his men.

"Then you will die." Said the voice. A bright green lightning ignited across his scythe and his left hand. Raising the hand, he shot a
torrent of warpfire into the farthest stormtroopers. Entering the room more swiftly than should've been possible with the figure's size,
he swept his scythe back cutting Sergeant Chronus and his remaining two men in half.

The terminator clad sorceror walked over to the now prone Inquisitor. The vox clicked- "Ambroz this is Zaraknyel. I have the wretch."

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Lighting forked across the night sky in strange patterns. It seemed to Planetary Governor Alexi that the traitors had brought this with them as well to his miserable backwater of a planet. He watched a team of medicae carry a screaming PDF soldier away from the front lines. He wondered for a moment what it was that had brought this death upon his planet. Apart from the capital they'd recently vacated in the wake of the chaos renegades, the only other thing of worth on this planet was a small Mechanicum mining colony. They'd lost contact with the Mechanicum two days prior to vacating the capital. He'd thought it was because the Mechanicus facility itself was under seige but now, with the caliber of soldiers the archenemy was throwing at them, he wasn't so sure.

"Lord! Another wave is incoming!" shouted a nameless soldier in a ragged brown PDF uniform. He snapped out of his reverie. Looking down the hill from the large plateau his forces had retreated to, he saw another wave of renegades approaching. They wore uniforms the color of midnight blue, with bronze colored flak armor on their chests. Chimeras decorated with blasphemous runes and spikes raced forward. Other taller shapes moved in the dust, sentinels he imagined. "Are the missile crews ready this time?" he inquired.

"No lord but we have autocannons standing by. They should at least be able to make a dent in the archenemy armor." answered a nameless aid.

A loud barking noise erupted from somewhere down the line as the first of the heavy weapon teams opened up with an autocannon. One of the archenemy chimeras veered off to its right, smoke rising from somewhere inside. Loud screams echoed from somewhere else and Alexi looked to his left to see two armored sentinels approaching the line. "With me!" he shouted, grabbing a meltagun from a parked chimera APC nearby. He ran down the line, his honor guard as governor following suit. He jogged, passing the frightened faces of PDF youths. He was out of breath by the time he reached the area where the sentinels were attacking. He hadn't always been this way. Once, Alexi had been in the Imperial Guard, a colonel. He'd commanded his regiment to victory over these exact same kind of foes numerous times. Now that seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Lord Governor?" inquired a young PDF lieutenant. "Sir what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the commander coordinating defense?"

"Hey well someone has to look after you young bucks!" he said, slapping the young man on his shoulderguard. "We're going to take those things out. Come on, with me!" Alexi shouted. He jumped out of the trench that stretched across the hill, his honor guard and a number of PDF soldiers following suit. The sentinels noticed them however, and opened up with their plasma cannons. Plasma weaponry was old and powerful, easily able to incinerate even astartes armor, let alone the flak armor worn by his men. Still they ran on. One of the sentinels fired and a bright blue light erupted from the cannon it carried. The ball of light flew over his head to land behind him. He heard the screams of the men, his men, dying behind. He readied the meltagun he'd borrowed and aimed it at the closest sentinel. The large warmachine was decorated with chains and spikes like everything else the renegades used. Alexi had never used a melta weapon, even in his time in the guard and he had no idea how to use it. Never the less he squeezed the trigger and a beam of orange-yellow flame leapt from it and the sentinel exlploded. Shrapnel shot into the area. He heard more screams and felt himself falling down. He looked down and saw a shard of metal protruding from his thigh and collapsed onto the dry desert ground. He saw the second sentinel
stepping around its fallen brethren, attempting to locate the insect that had killed its companion. He felt hands dragging him away and heard the sentinel fire its plasma cannon again. "Sir, we've got to get you out of here! The heavy weapon teams have managed to dredge up more missles and they should be able to take this last one out without us." One of his surviving honor guard said. Missiles began to streak overhead as he was dragged back to the front lines. Medicae personnel were waiting upon arrival. "You're lucky Lord governor, this piece of shrapnel barely missed your femoral artery by a few inches. Don't worry though you'll live."


The pain made his senses sharp as he was carried back through the encampment. Alexi winced as the medics carried him. He turned his head from side to side, catching glimpses of what remained of the population he governed. Men, women and children huddled next to fires, glancing fearfully at the sky as if the enemy was going to reach down and pluck them from the ground. Truth be told the renegades, although great in number, were not the worst of the problem. He'd heard reports, some from his own men, some from the mechanicus reports before contact was lost, that there were worse things walking on the soil of his planet. They'd said they'd seen giants, clad in dark armor fighting alongside the renegades. His first thought had been that enemy astartes were here on this very same planet. He hadn't seen any reports of them in days though and was beginning to suspect it was just the frantic thoughts of frightened soldiers or some other nightmarsh creatures unleashed by the archenemy. Regardless though, there was a relief force on the way, if the astropaths were to be believed. Only a week away along with a company of Ultramarines. That had been two days ago. He prayed that they would be able to hold them off until then.

They arrived at the governor's tent at the edge of the plateau and parted the flaps of his tent to allow his stretcher through. The medics transferred Alexi to his cot. He winced painfully as they went to work sterilizing the wound, injecting him with local anasthetics and removing the shard of metal. He decided to focus on something else while they worked. He listened to the gunfire echoing from the front lines.

Once the medics were finished taking out the shrapnel they needed to bandage him up. One left the tent to go get bandages. The other went to refill his canteen of water. After about fifteen minutes he began to suspect something was amiss. "Um hello? Anyone out there? Only bleeding out in here!" he called. Alexi waited for awhile longer before he began to maneuver himself into a sitting position. "Damn, this is going to be painful." He grabbed a nearby lasrifle one of the medics had carried to use as a crutch. Slowly and painfully he lifted himself from the cot. He walked to the door and pulled the flaps aside. The scene that greeted him was one of nightmare. At his feet were both medics that had taken out the metal shard. One had had his neck snapped while the other, his throat slit to the bone, stared up at him with dead eyes. All around the encampment similar fates had taken place to his aides and honor guard. He hadn't heard a thing. What kind of creature could do this? "Throne of Terra...." Alexi whispered.

"Guess again." whispered a voice from behind him. Alexi whirled, uholstering his bolt pistol in the same smooth motion. But there was nothing there. He heard quiet laughter behind him. He whirled around again, fear now taking hold and overpowering the pain he'd felt before. This time though he had moved to quickly and his wounded leg gave beneath him and he fell. A shape appeared above him, in midnight blue armor. Chaos marines! His eyes went wide with shock and fear. "This is him, the one we were sent to find." said the giant. The creature had a bronze helm decorated with spikes and wore a strange gauntlet with a small chainblade amongst other things attached to it. Idly he wondered what it was for. "Let the fun begin then." said another voice. The first chaos marine stepped back revealing a group of them standing around the fallen governor. The speaker was huge, even by astartes standards. He carried a gladius in one hand, his other was encased in a huge powerfist. His backpack had sprouted large insect-like scythes on his back. This one must be their leader. "What do you want? Why have you done this?" Alexi asked pointlessly. He noticed they all carried these
huge knives and wondered if that was how they'd reached them this high on the plateau. "For justice. Skin him alive and make sure that vox unit is operational. I want everyone to hear you plead and beg for your life. Alexi was trembling now. He raised his bolt pistol and began firing. His aim was off because of his fear but the targets were huge and hard to miss. He only got a few shots off before one of the giants gripped his hand and squeezed. He screamed as the bones in his hand were shattered to pieces. "And so it begins." Alexi heard, before he was carried off to his own vox tent nearby.

"Commander, we've taken out their leader. Send in the dreadclaws." said champion Artorius, as he walked toward the tent to join his brothers.

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They'd been raiding and pillaging on the border ridge of the Imperium for almost a year now, surviving mostly on hit and run tactics. Kryos was gifted with tactical intelligence, although his temper was fierce it was rare that it ever showed its ugly face. The Impia Vindictam, a strike cruiser and one of the few Adeptus Astartes vessels the Tempest Hounds possessed, was his flagship and he used it like a blade. He'd suprised and ambushed numerous trading fleets, outposts and escort fleets throughout the last few months. Kryos was impressed with the tally they'd reaped among the loyalist scum. They'd even bagged an Archbishop in transit from one shrineworld to another. His master would be pleased. It was time to head home.

"It's time to head home, are the other vessels prepared for transit Captain?" Kryos asked.

"Aye Lord, the Shadow Legion vessels are ready. Our own preparations are nearly complete, it will only be another hour before we are ready." Answered a older grey haired man.

"Good. Signal the others to head back, we'll join them shortly."

Moments later an alarm began to ring.

"Proximity alarm! We've got company!" Someone shouted.

First claw were on the bridge with their champion and as soon as the vessel was brought on screen they recognized it for what it was.

"Grey Knights...." Hissed one of First Claw.

"Prime the lances and load torpedoes. Fire everything as soon as you have a lock!" Kryos all but screamed at his crew.

"Lord, they're not firing at us, they're coming aside us. Are they trying to board us?" The Captain asked.

"Aye. All available Claws and Shadow Legion personnel, prepare for boarding. The loyalists have finally come to exact retribution."

Bright lights from lasers on the starboard side of the vessel as the Grey Knights came alongside. Concussive blasts began to rock the ship as torpedoes and boarding pods began to fly between the two ships. The lights on the ship dimmed as the Impia Vindictam went into phase to repel boarders.

"Ninth Claw is standing by outside the bridge doors to deny access Kryos." Nadir said. He was the chief apothecary and his own Claw's apothecary. When situations of overall command fell to Kryos, Nadir often took command of First Claw while Kryos dealt with the bigger picture. A formidable warrior in his own right, his brilliance as an apothecary was only matched by his cruelty as a son of the Haunter.

"Good, tell them to hold position until reinforced." Kryos said.

"Brother, we can reinforce them right now and even the odds. On their own they don't stand a chance against a strike squad. They're a newer Claw and there's only five or six of them."

"I know and their sacrifice will buy us time to do what we need to." Kryos said, readying his chainaxe and lightning claw. He flew into motion, bisecting the first crewmember in easy reach. The others didn't even have time to scream as the rest of First Claw leapt into action alongside their champion. They were second to none in pack mentality and in moments all but the Captain were dead.

"Captain, go hide in one of the closests. The sacrifice of your crew will not have been in vain."

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Justicar Raythern parried a chainsword with his halberd. The Night Lord wasn't bad as a swordsman but he was a Grey Knight. He broke the weapon with a powerful chop and followed up with another that sliced through the Night Lords shoulder, who promptly fell down. Raythern stood over him for a moment then brought the halberd down into the marine's stomach. He removed it after a moment and looked around, noticing the lack of incoming fire or sounds of battle, he saw the rest of the traitors were dead or dying. It seemed he'd been lucky and found the path of least resistance to the bridge. The other squads were facing far more resistance and a few had been wiped out entirely. There was even a report that one had ran into the screaming shell of what could only have been a dreadnought once. Their vessel had been destroyed a few moments ago but that had been expected. Their ship hadn't been designed to match the firepower of a strike cruiser and they only had one objective, to cripple this ship and leave these traitorous bastards to die in the void. He signaled one of his men to bring up the melta charge. Moments later they were standing before the broken bulkhead of the bridge doors. Inside was a scene of carnage that he would've more expected to see from Orks or World Eaters. The ship's crew lay in bloody heaps strewn all over the instruments. Something wasn't right here. Just then he noticed the blood was beginning to come together into one big pool in the center of the bridge.

"Form up! They've summoned Daemons! For the Emperor!" Raythern voxed his brothers.

Shapes began to form in the blood. Horned creatures with long tongues and swords that glowed with hellfire began to emerge.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!!" Came shrieks from all around them.

Wait that wasn't right, that shouldn't be right. All around them? Raythern was momentarily confused, then he looked up and saw a lightning claw coming directly at his head. He brought the halberd up just in time, but still the blow knocked him down. He shoved the creature off him, got up and charged. The creature was definitely a champion of some sort and was far more skilled than his last opponent. They dueled back and forth, back and forth. Raythern couldn't spare a moment to see how his brothers were faring, but he'd already heard the flatline of at least two of his brothers lives ending. He knew he had an advantage simply because of the champions choice of weaponry. The lighting claw could parry his halberd but the chainaxe was already beginning to lose its teeth. He focused on that side and soon it was all but useless. He heard the flatline his last brothers and his righteous anger grew. He saw an opening and took it, slicing through the champion's wrist. The champion fell and Raythern stood over him.

"Are you ready to face judgement traitor?" He noticed he was now surrounded and worried that one of these abominations would interfere but none of them did.

Kryos laughed heartily. Raythern looked down and saw with his one remaining arm the champion had grabbed his plasma pistol which was now aimed directly at his head.

"Have you no honor at all?!?" Raythern asked.

"No, none at all. Someone once said that "We were murders first, last and always". Never really knew what it meant until now. So thanks for that." Kryos said and laughing still, shot the man in the head.

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Kyros walked down the poorly lit corridor, the sound of his power armored boots sending rats and larger, human sized vermin scurrying into the darkness. He was going hunting....again. He didn't mind, truthfully it was what he was best at. Thus it came as no surprise when he and his claw began to gravitate towards dedication to the Blood God Khorne. Usually when he went raiding he would be with his claw in the thick of it. Not so this time.

 

Kyros reached the end of the corridor and punched a series of buttons on the keypad. The door subsequently hissed open and Kyros walked in. The darkness was so absolute he missed them. Almost. Five pairs of smoldering red eyes gazed down at him. This whole hangar had been dedicated to the creatures. Once he'd found them he'd had a cage constructed from some of the old materials from Nostramo. The cage would lead to the center of the room from the door, thus allowing safe passageway without harm coming from the Nightmares.

 

He'd found them on Enferum, what a delightful place he thought thinking back. The world is used as one of the few remaining strongholds of VIII Legion warbands. At one point, they'd had to use it as their staging ground, back before this. The Tempest Hounds frequent there to bring supply, trade and reinforcement to their allies. During one such trip in which he'd excused himself from the meeting, he had wandered down somewhere dark and deep within the old suburbs he'd found them. He'd followed the scent of blood for some time now and upon seeing the creatures realized they probably had too. The Nightmares (as he'd learn they were called later) were feeding on the remains of two rival gangs that had been fighting. He considered it unlikley that any had gotten out alive. He watched them for several minutes before realizing that one had been missing for a few moments. He began to back away and he turned around.......to stare into a pair of smouldering red eyes. Half a second later, he was flying across the square. A collapsing wall broke his fall poorly and Kyros rose angrily. The last thing he remembered was he reached for his axe, uncaring that he was about to be lost to the white hot rage.

 

He awoke stumbling around the square. The same square he'd been at earlier. He looked around, expecting to see the corpses of the Hunters, the Nightmares. Instead they stood in a ring around him, seemly (if at all possible) respectful of him now. Kyros looked down in his hand to find himself still gripping daemonic axe Soulripper (which he'd unimaginably named himself). That was unusual, he'd never held it in his hand without succumbing to the rage. He looked up remembering the creatures around him. They didn't look like they were going to let him move. He was about to try emptying his plasma pistol in one of their faces when the largest one moved forward and dipped its head once. Hmm...odd.

 

Kyros smiled at the memory. Since then he'd found a number of beasts that seemed to tolerate his presence. So much so that he was becoming known throughout the warband as the beastmaster, much to his chagrin. Still these were his favorites. He moved towards the latch on the door, unlocked it and pushed the doors open. "Come my friends, lets go for a hunt...."

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He remembered everything from his life. Every waking moment, every impact from bullets hitting his armor and every loyalist spine snapped in the name of retribution. He'd been told, this was not possible. That when a human form was kept alive in a way such as this, that it was impossible for the brain to survive completely intact. He'd done just that though. He remembered responding to the boarding pods that had invaded his home, their ship, and fighting the scum that had dared attack them. He remembered feeling anger and had ordered his claw to attack them on sight. They'd been the first organised resistance to face the intruders, but these were no ordinary men they'd fought. No, these were astartes. Not the same loyalists his brothers had fought on the earth of Terra. In fact they were of a different breed altogether. They wore silver armor and carried crackling force weapons that cut his brothers asunder as though their armor was nothing more than mere paper. He knew what they were, he'd heard the stories. They were the Grey Knights. They were anathema to the Night Lords' very existance.

He'd ordered Ninth Claw to hold their ground and deny them entrance to the ship's bridge. They had little in the way of heavy weapons, and glancing down the hall to see the force weapons, he'd felt a moment of doubt. "Hold brothers. We will make them keep their heads down until we recieve further reinforcements." He hoped they'd send someone down, maybe First Claw or even the Atrementar themselves to relieve their brothers and end these loyalists' pitiful lives. He'd known this was why he'd been selected out of the newer Night Lords to lead one of the precious claws. He'd only been a legionaire for a few centuries and compared to many of his brethren, he was but a child. But he had something many of the others did not, he had patience and a gift for tactics. This was what he had to use now.

"Repel with bolters! Do not let them close the gap!" Lyosha shouted into the vox. What little light there was on the Impia Vindictam had been shut off, one of the first things done when repelling invaders. The Night Lords could see perfectly well though. They fired down the hallway, taking what little cover they could in the doorway to the bridge. He heard an impact and glancing to his right saw one of his brothers fall to near a perfectly aimed headshot from a storm bolter. Then he felt rather than heard the grenades. "Haunter's teeth, chainswords and combat knives! They're charging us!" Lyosha yelled to what remained of his newly appointed squad. The Knights were among them a moment later. Evidently they could see just as well with only the light from their force weapons to guide them. He revved his chainsword and deflected a blow from a halberd. He heard muffled grunts of pain as other members of his claw fought for their lives. Their leader, the one with the halberd was frighteningly quick. He drew on the training memories taught to him by his brothers. Even that was not enough though and he was forced on the defensive side, merely deflecting or blocking blows, unable to do anything else. His chainsword had been built with utility in mind and even though it was strong enough to tear through armored hide of ceramite, it could not hold for long against a force weapon. Looking at the spirialing script written across the halberd, it had probably been crafted long before he'd even been born. The chainsword broke with loud bang and the halberd sliced clean through the armor and bone of his right shoulder. He gasped with the pain. Looking up, the Justicar raised his halberd and thrust it into the marines stomach, mortally injuring him and promising him a slow painful demise.

He'd lain there for an hour among the bodies of his newly appointed claw before blackness and unconsciousness overtook him. The next time he awoke he was unhelmed, unarmored, and painful. So much pain. He couldn't hear anything but the revving of the small chainblades of a narthecium and drills along with it. He was dying he knew. There was nothing even the legion's apothecaries could do. He faded into nothingness again and awoke to seemingly the same scene over and over. Finally it stopped. Then he began to dream. At first he'd thought he'd been dead. Then though, he awoke one final time and felt that he could move again. How had this been possible? Then he noticed he couldn't feel. Everything had a strange buzzing mechanical feel to it, like augmetics. Had he been fitted with augmetics? Was he worth that much to the legion? Opening his eyes he saw the truth of it all. He'd been encased in a sarcophagus, with only his head portruding from the top. His limbs had been surgically amputated and he now had new ones. One arm, his right, the one that had been shorn off in battle, was now fitted with a huge autocannon. The other ended in four talons of immense destructive power. With a thought they crackled to life and he brought the limb up to inspect it closer.

These had been his dreams for countless centuries now. Lyosha knew he'd failed his lord and legion, but he would continue to serve them still. He knew he was one of the easier dreadnoughts to awaken from slumber. He also knew that he couldn't feel any physical sensations any longer. But he could still feel vengeance and hate. He would answer the call, regardless of whatever his target and would destroy those that defied the vengeance and retribution he'd craved so much in life.

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/IMG_0868.jpg

[Darth Kados]

Looking good! The claws look wicked!

 

Sorry to burst the bubble but DantheDaemon has already claimed the 18th as his own...

[Brother Ambroz]

Thanks Darth kados. Hmm how about 19th? Anyone lay claim yet?

[Wicced]

looking good brother! welcome to the 8th legion!

are those the claws from the chaos general with raptor pack?

 

i claimed the 7th and know of claims to the 18th, 12th, 14th and 8th here on the board

[Brother Ambroz]

Aye they are Wicced. They were a bit of a pain to cut off of him but once they were off they worked pretty well with some glue and GS. I'd like to claim the 19th then! I've been playing them awhile just haven't posted much of any fluff or pictures until now.

[Loken86]

welcomed to the 8th legion brother i like ya lord however the 19th company has already been claimed

[Brother Ambroz]

Haha wow hmm 13th?

[DarkVen]

I know the guy, who collect 13th company. And it's captain has "nickname" Spider and is albenistic (white hairs, pale skin, bloody eyes... so on).

My advice for you is, if you wanna collect any company - DO NOT feel yourself disturbed, if anyone already collect it (there are thousands of gamers in the world... do you believe, that we can find any "free" company? I don't think so). I believe (and I know) that there is people, who collect 8th company - still, I collect this company, paint miniatures, write fluff, so on.

 

Also, another advice - do a bit better pics.

 

DV

[Brother Ambroz]

Unless whoever's it is speaks up for themselves i'll stick with 13th. I know the pictures aren't the greatest as I already stated above.

[HellChyld]

as a fellow nightlord player you might want to check out the nightlords forum link in my sig. your work is excellent and looking forward to seeing more

[Brother Ambroz]

Did some work on his claws, tried to make the claws look a bit more electric.

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/Night%20Lords/9345042.jpg

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/Night%20Lords/9345032.jpg">

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/Night%20Lords/9345022.jpg">

[Brother Ambroz]

Some new pics here. I am creating a mutated chosen retinue for my Lord (purely for fluff purposes, probably count as raptors or possed in game). Anyways here's the first. He's still a very WIP, waiting on a shipment of bits for his other arm, it will be another powerfist from the DA upgrade kit. C&C welcome.

 

 

 

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/934504.jpg

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/934503.jpg">

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/934502.jpg

[DarkVen]

Not a bad stuff.

I think metallics and bones asking for more washes.

[Wicced]

not bad, but i think the skulls dangling from his arm need to be repositioned to match the sense of movement coming from his legs.

they are hanging too straight, i'd position them backwards a little.

[Brother Ambroz]

Thanks guys. I'll try repositioning the skulls. What color washes would you recommend for the bones and metallics? I've only recently began using washes so I'm new with them but I've been using badab black, asurmen blue and baal red alot.

[Leonidus]

devlan mud

[DarkVen]

Devlan mud for gold

Badab black for metal (Badab black, then devlan black - for old dirty metal)

For bones - try gryphone sepia.

 

Very simple, I believe :yes:

[Brother Ambroz]

Alright I think I've finished the lord and the first of his mutated chosen. Bought devlan mud and gryphonne sepia. I like devlan mud and the effect it has on gold. The gryphonne sepia however I don't really like all that much. I kinda prefer the clean look of the bones on the wings. The backpack of the chosen isn't as good as the lord, I had origionally painted it a ways back and it didn't turn out all that well. Recently went over it and cleaned it up as well as I could but it still looks kinda bleh up close. Anyways here's a few pictures of the finished products. C&C welcome.

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/9345022.jpg

 

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/9345042.jpg

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/9345032.jpg

[darth_giles]

Looks like a good start; I haven't seen any pics of the rank-and-file troops so I don't know how the rest of it is but it looks like you'll have a wonderful army.

 

Just don't let the winged backpacks become too overdone; that's the problem with the bat-winged helmets. On one character they looked great but on an entire squad they made me want to whack someone. And then there was this guy who wanted to do his whole *army* with them... bleakh. Too much of a cool thing may be awesome; but too much of an awesome thing tends to be rather bad.

[DarkVen]

Bones (I mean, bone-things in wings. Are they?) are flat (no shadows). If you don't really like gryphone sepia, try paint some shadows. It'll improve look of your miniature.

Anyway, the stuff looks good :) keep it up!

[Brother Ambroz]

Yeah they're bone-thing/wings. So that's what you mean oooohhh. Hmm I'll give it a try. What do you think of using those wings for the squad (Sorceror, Lord and 4-5 chosen)? I wanted to use the wings and as much possessed/horn stuff as possible to show their mutations/blessings. I don't particularly like the raptor jetpack and the loyalist one just seems too loyalist to me.

[DarkVen]

Maybe one squad with wings, as the retinue for HQ, will be look good.

[Brother Ambroz]

Hey guys been busy lately and haven't been feeling that into painting either but I finally got back into it this weekend. Finished another chosen, this one is known as "The Executioner". Also after Ven's post about shadows, I tried playing around with Gryphonne Sepia a bit but I didn't like the result. So I decided to add in some Badab Black along with it and this is the result. Not sure how I feel about it yet, it gives kinda a dark corrupted look but I'm not sure how well it goes with the rest of the mini. What do you think?

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/IMG_0653.jpg

 

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i458/Garvi_Loken/IMG_0654.jpg

 

C&C much appreciated.

[Cynic]

I like it - the bone appears more yellowed and aged now and has a bit of depth, not like polished ivory.

[DarkVen]

Bones looks nice. A bit dirty, old - very nice.

And about this conversion - cool :) I wanna see such guy in my army now :) cool stuff.