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Stabbin' and such: Triumphant at Last! 2/9/17


Firepower

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Alrighty. I could put in a fluff blurb here. I probably would, normally. But I'm tired, and I've put enough work into these monstrosities without coming up with a few italicized paragraphs. I may edit in one tomorrow, but for now, blammo! :laugh.:

Throughout mankind's legacy of war, noise has been a powerful weapon. The herald rumble of charging cavalry and screech of falling munitions can crumble an enemy as surely as their delivery. A meteor rain of Astartes Drop Pods creates an unforgettable thundering of sonic explosions for miles.

Imagine then, how loud it is inside our iron chariots.

"Descent terminus in 45 seconds," drones out the Pod's servitor through the cacophony with ridiculous calm. "Descent Terminus in 30 seconds."

"This is the definition of overkill, Reclusiarch." Heinrich, even in the familiar insanity of a dead drop from orbit, even when he has to shout into the vox to be heard, cannot resist making this point for the seventh time since the briefing. A week ago, I may have agreed with him. This world is nothing but a laughable outpost on the system's edge. Records showed no significant orbital or terrestrial defenses. Ludoldus was content to simply cull the heretics with bombardment and move on, until the Inquisitor's intervention.

Such a difference a few extra reconnaissance picts can make.

"Focus, brother! This is not the war we expected," I shout back, atypically stern with his humor. Even Joel turns his head in subtle surprise. Beside him, Thamos and Kab are both inaudible over the roar of retro thrusters, rapt in the rush of combat stims, prayer and wrath. In two dozen other Pods, the Jerulas Crusade prepares for holy war no differently.

"Terminus. Brace. Brace."

"No pity! No remorse!" my brothers roar.

"Suffer not the daemon to live!" I reply as we crash into the tainted earth, and open the doors to hell.

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Pod 1:
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Pod 2:
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Pod 3:
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Attempted Interior Detail Shots:
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Ugh, now then, what next...hello, unfinished Ironclads. :smile.:
Edit- Fancy words added.
Edited by Firepower
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Oh lovely!

 

As much of a paint in the ass as they must have been, the effort really paid off.

 

I don't know whether to applaud or paddle you for that pun.  Then again, paddlin' is sort of a very loud, painful applause...

 

 

 

We were promised " a few italicized paragraphs."  I hope I do not wait in vain :tongue.:

 

Happy now? :tongue.:

Edited by Firepower
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  • 1 year later...

Pride is an insidious poison. Our sacred fraternity is evidence, a wrath and vengeance eternal born from the betrayal of a single soul, consumed by this prime sin.

But it is a pride I feel now, throughout our most sacred ceremony. A Champion, chosen by the Emperor from his Throne, radiant with holy majesty and clad in the ebony armor of our founder from the final days of the Heresy. The first Imperial Fist to stand singularly in the Emperor's sight, in the first holy raiment turned from gold to black. And in his hands, cleaving the whispers of the Crusade to come, the jet marble blade of Sigismund.

And it is held by a brother whom once served as my pupil. It is this hubris I struggle to scour as I observe his first moments as Emperor's Champion. Yet something fouler and all the more impure grasps for my attention. Sorrow. Unforgivable, to look upon this majesty, a blessing from the Emperor himself, with anything but the pious solemnity I enviously see in my fellow Chaplains in this moment.

In the silence of the sacred armory, my brother is at war. He is assailed by demons, the impure and the foul, slashing and cutting and roaring spite and rage to an enemy only he can see. Blade work I've never taught him, never even seen, vanquishes foe after foe burned into his mind's eye as he travails battlefields of ancient years, and the battlefields to come.

To be touched by the divine is to surrender yourself. A painful bargain, one any of our brotherhood would accept without hesitation, but even as I watched my student's face disappear behind the obsidian helm I could see the anguish in his expression. He ceased to exist the moment he was chosen, hollowed out and filled with a fragment of unfathomable holy power. He will die in this blessed task, destined to die apart from his brotherhood, as something...other. He lives in another world now. The war in his eyes is one none of us can come to in his aid. We can only protect him in this world, shepherding him to his charge, one duel at a time until he finally falls.

He is no longer one of us. He is a vessel, a living reliquary gifted by our Emperor in this time of need. To look upon him that one final time before he became Champion, to see no vestigial trace of the warrior I trained in his haunted gaze, was an agony I am ashamed to recognize.

When his duel ends, his blow has yet to fall. He stops stock still, sword raised, flinching back as if struck. He does not breathe, his hearts stop in his chest, and for a moment of sickening silence, feels the death that is soon to claim him.

The blade is lowered, smoothly circling down until the tip rests against the pale marble floor, his chained wrists resting on the cross guard as he looks to us one by one. I cannot be sure if he even sees us. He has seen the war to come, he has already fought every duel, every skirmish and answered every challenge, and tasted the blow that would end him. There is nothing left now but to help him to his fate.

'For the Emperor,' he says, and how I loathe to hear his voice so sure and reverent, when I am choking down the pain of my paltry loss.

'Know no pity,' I reply.

'Suffer no remorse,' my brothers intone.

'There is no fear,' he answers.

What do the dead need of fear, I think to myself.

'Name yourself, warrior!' I shout the words, the first of his challenges to come. His hands raise, resting against the pommel of his blade over his chest, and he honors us all with a salute.

'I am Sebazdian, Emperor's Champion.'

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This fella's been sitting on my desk like 75% finished for way, way too long. As things finally begin to move forward on my assembly line again, it was time to get myself in order and complete him.

Edited by Firepower
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I don't normally do WIP photos, but it's been an ongoing theme with the dreads, so:

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Progress, one clunky, heavy step at a time. Airbrushing the Hurricanes right now, since I didn't have them in the assembly line originally. :dry.:

Stumbling my way through weathering the black bits. It was easy on the arms because I just had to make the scratches directional along the arms as they would happen with the punching.

Edited by Firepower
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Fantastic bit of background there, an angle on the champion I have never considered.

 

In most ethos, experiences of speaking or being touched by the divine is not a pleasant thing.  Getting mind blasted by incomparable, incomprehensible power, even with benevolent intent, is rough on mortal minds.  There is a particularly beautiful bit in the Bhagavad Gita about staring into the infinite that has always stuck with me.

 

It seemed only natural to me that an Emperor's Champion would suffer the same way.

 

Anyhow, thanks for the praise.  Gotta keep this brush moving before my enthusiasm wanes again :P

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You don't post your stuff enough. Those arms are magnificent. I really like the weathering, you've hit that sweet spot where they look used, but not overly worn.

 

Very impressive.

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I don't post much because I don't do much.  I haven't picked up a brush in almost a year. :laugh.:

 

I've always been a fits-and-starts painter.  Normally it takes events for me to bust out brushes.  Peer pressure and banners are good motivators :wink:

 

Speaking of...hm...there's still time to do a Knightfall for 2017.  *plots and plans (and looks for someone with rudimentary photoshop skills)*

Edited by Firepower
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Peer pressure and banners are good motivators :wink:

 

 

PUT THE BRUSH IN YOUR HAND AND PAINT!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You asked for that.

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Played a game today.  Didn't go well.

 

3 Pods, 2 with melee Crusaders and an Champion, 1 Pod with 2 plasma MSU's, LRC with big squad and Helbrecht, 2 Vindicators, 3 Bikes, Bike Marshal.

 

Opponent- 4 Cataphracti melee squads, 1 shooty Termi squad, 2 Termi Chaplains, Lysander, 2 Contemptors, two little shooty squads.

 

I get first turn, hold back my pods, move just enough to shoot with my Vindis.

 

His turn, deep strikes everything he can...makes the charge on every single one of them.

 

I deep strike...Champ and both squads fail their charges.  

 

There was a lot of attrition, but basically those opening charges/failed charges decided the game. :verymad:

 

To be sporting my opponent charged a lone Termi Chaplain at the Champion...and beat him into the dirt.

 

Soooo maybe I should find room for my 5 Terminators in my list.  The shooty squads accomplished next to nothing...hmmm

 

I was annoyed by how the dice were treating me, but the really annoying part was that I chose to play the GW manager.  Understandably, he has to stop every 6 minutes to help a customer.  5 and a half hours got us to the bottom of turn 3.

 

On the bright side, it was Big Guns Never Tire, and the LRC and vindis held 3 of 4 objectives by then.  On the down side, the LRC was trapped in melee by turn 1, with Lysander repeatedly charging and knocking dents in it.  I need to learn how to screen :sad.:

 

MVP was definitely the Bike Marshal, of all things.  He accomplished with a bike and a relic blade what the Emperor's Champion was supposed to do, and more.  Slaughtered a Cataphract squad on his own before charging Lysander with his last remaining wound to try and scratch the paint off his yellow butt.  That 9" re-roll bubble with the helmet on a bike is great, as I hoped, because you can zip to whatever tanks need to make their shots really count.

Edited by Firepower
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I deep strike...Champ and both squads fail their charges.  
 
There was a lot of attrition, but basically those opening charges/failed charges decided the game. :verymad:

 

Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eat you. It happens.

 

I am assuming you used your re-rolls on your charges?

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Deep strike charging is always going to be a very high risk tactic. Even with our CT and a CP reroll in hand in case one die rolls high, the chances are only about 55% in favour. Sounds like in this game, your opponent got the 55 and you got left with the 45 :-(
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