"No more duty can be urged upon those who are entering the great theatre of life than simple loyalty to their best convictions."
- Edwin Hubbell Chapin, M.1
+ + +
I duck, weave and dodge the frenzied attacks as the Reaver howls his frustration, the sea-green of his armour stained with the viscera of battle, the ceramite pock-marked and beaten as testament to the brutality of the melee. His chainaxe roars as it carves a path through the air, aiming to separate my head from my body; I turn, allowing the teeth to clatter against my pauldron and defile the symbol of my Legion. My fist connects with his helm, distracting him long enough for my shortblade to plunge into the soft armour at his armpit, the alien steel of my trophy blade biting deep; his chainaxe drops to the rubble at our feet. His bestial cries of pain go unheard around us as my brothers brawl with the rest of my enemy’s squad, each focussed on his own quarry.
He struggles still despite having lost the use of one arm, but he slams his shoulder into my chest and knocks me to the ground. He is on me in an instant, landing blows against my helm, chainaxe long forgotten. My blade escapes my grasp. Where is my blade? The lenses of my helm cracking under the continued blows of his fist; my vision splinters.
I begin to fear this is my end.
A blade punches through the traitor’s armour, the weapon humming with energy as it protrudes from his chest. The Reaver looks down at it, dumbfounded as his blood hisses and evaporates from the single-edged blade, distracted long enough for a knife to plunge into his lightly-protected neck. Both blades are withdrawn and their owner wrenches the dying assailant off me. Augustus Sulla, my Sergeant, offers me his hand and hauls me up.
“On your feet, Marius. I won’t have you sleeping on us just yet.”
I stoop for my blade as I look around at the survivors of the assault; four casualties from the seventeen that entered the combat. We are now thirteen. I find myself laughing despite the gravity of the situation and the others join me. We are alive, the lucky thirteen. The traitors failed to kill us all, and now we shall make them pay dearly for their mistake.
+ + +
So I finally caved in and joined the crew in the Heresy of 30k, even if I am late to the party.
My Forge World order came in the post today, which means I can finally get some groundwork done on an army I've been planning for a couple of months now.
Put simply, this Company of Emperor's Children was attached to a separate Expeditionary Fleet to the main body of the Legion and isn't present for Laeran or the corruption of the Legion. They receive a message to assemble in the Isstvan system and set off as soon as they are able, but their travel through the warp takes longer than expected and they arrive just as Horus orders the virus bombing of Isstvan III. After a few scans of the planet, the Company discovers that there are still Legionnaires from all assembled Legions present on the planet; horrified by this revelation, the entire Expeditionary Fleet warps away with the intention of travelling to Terra, but when they arrive they are attacked by the loyalist fleet and forced to retreat.
What I'm aiming for with this force is a group of models that I can slot into a Heresy-era force as well as a Space Marine or Chaos Space Marine force, so there will probably be some models that are specific to those codexes, like Obliterator counts-as weapon teams or "Thudd-erfire Cannons".
I don't have any of my paints near me at the moment, so I'm not entering anything into the ETL (sorry Heresy forum!), but expect a few assembled models in the next few days or so.
Edited by Dragonkin Arenis, 22 June 2014 - 12:24 AM.