Uprising Posted October 20, 2014 Share Posted October 20, 2014 Hello Children of Chaos. I have the pleasure and honour to announce the return of the Daemonic Pact event. The event is simply a modelling, painting and fluff writing challenge for everything chaotic. This Pact event is extremely different from the last two because of COC. You may vow any units that you are also vowing for Call of Chaos. You may sign up at any time, but completion is on January 15th 2015. Think of this as a little bit extra motivation to call. If you wish to join and not vowing for call, you may as well. What the vow involves: You must post an image of the unpainted or base coated unit in this thread. Any questions on model current state, please PM me You must post at least one image of the finished (painted and based) unit Writing a short bio of that unit, no shorter than 150 words. Writing a short background of your army, no shorter than 400 words(optional). A final post with fluff, Finished Picture(no more than Four total), due on January 15th 2015 What is allowed: All units from:Codex Chaos Space Marines Codex Chaos Daemons Chaos Codex supplements (Black Legion and Crimson Slaughter) Horus Heresy range (traitors only) Imperial Knights (Chaos Knight conversions only) The Siege of Vraks army list Codex Astra Militarum (to represent Traitors) Tyrant’s Legion from Imperial Armour Volume 9 Conversions and count as are not only allowed, but also encouraged. PM for details and questions. You may vow multiple entry but you still only get one vote per category, and can not vote for yourself. Also If you fail to complete a following vow, then you fail all your vow. What you earn:You get a vow sig to start, choose only one Rewards: If pass your vow you can add this signature: The Eye of the gods Finally... Have some fun with it. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Warsmith Aznable Posted October 20, 2014 Share Posted October 20, 2014 Can I paint and a do a story of a Chaos Spawn to clear the failure banner from my signature from Daemonic Pact 2? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Forté Posted October 30, 2014 Share Posted October 30, 2014 Can I paint and a do a story of a Chaos Spawn to clear the failure banner from my signature from Daemonic Pact 2? Sounds like a good idea. Nice one Uprising :tu: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uprising Posted October 30, 2014 Author Share Posted October 30, 2014 Can I paint and a do a story of a Chaos Spawn to clear the failure banner from my signature from Daemonic Pact 2? I see why not. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tenebris Posted November 7, 2014 Share Posted November 7, 2014 I, Lord Tenebris the Arrogant, Lord of the Arrogant Sons, faithful servant of Abaddon the Despoiler and warrior of the Black Legion, vow the following: By January 15th 2015 I will complete and paint the model of Prince Salastan, the Philosopher, oathbound servant of the Black Legion, soulbound slave of the Arrogant Sons Chaos warband, and I will write the background of this daemon prince. This I vow! Prince Salastan the Philospher http://shrani.si/f/3C/q7/3Y7XgjeU/3/2014-11-01-193817.jpg Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tenebris Posted January 8, 2015 Share Posted January 8, 2015 Prince Salastan the Philospher http://shrani.si/f/17/7p/48ceElXc/1/2015-01-08-174916.jpg (yeah bad paint job but I hope the fluff compensates ) To whom this dreaded name belongs, to whom it will answer. Salastan, Sll'st the Imperturbable, Sal Slas'Tan of the Eye, these and many more names echo across the nether realm but all resonate with a single essence, with a single purpose. In life Slathok the Philosopher was a son, a son to Magnus the Red, he was also a brother, your brother, a brother to a thousand brothers, and he was also one of the "gifted". Slathok begun his career as a Thousand Sons when he was embraced by the legion on his home world of Prospero. Little the daemon now recalls of his childhood but he indeed recalls his life under the vivid sky in a city of glass and brass. The gift manifested itself early, even before he was harvested for the legion, even before he was one of the chosen ones. Even then Slathok was a psyker, one of the rare individuals with the third sight, though not so rare on the soil of holy Prospero. Soon the aspirant grew in a novitiate, soon Slathok entered in the many circles of learning and debate which were imperative in his legion. As battles went Slathok fought in them, but he never payed much mind to the slaughters he committed or the lives he took, no, Slathok was a scholar and his mind's eye was soaring above such petty matters, right there in the endless ocean of the Warp, with his brothers at his side. Then the wolves came and then for the first time in his life Slathok felt the bitter kiss of an axe. Then for the first time he tasted his own blood on his lips, then Slathok for the first time understood the pain of existence, and then he sought to change it. Many sons of Prospero speak of a sorcerer unleashing devastating spells upon the Fenrisian wolves, careless how many died by his hand, disinterested when his own body begun to writhe and change. No Slathok learned there and then what is truly to be a space marine, what truly means to be alive, to be above the enumerations so sacred to his kin, there, on the blood soaked battlefield of Prospero, Slathok of the Eye felt alive for the first time in his centuries old life. When the legion was shattered by the sorcery of his father and when Slathok and his kin have found themselves in the very madness itself, it was there that Slathok heard the song of life, of endless change, of endless possibility. Observing his body he could see talons tearing from his flesh, his armor merged with his skin, his form once a temple of purity now a creature on the cusp of enlightenment. In that moment Slathok simply rose his hands to the winds of Sortiarius, greeting them as the caress of his new master swooped him into the currents of destiny. Centuries have passed, perhaps even thousands or tens of thousands of years, or mere minutes, mere seconds, but in the endless ocean of the Warp, Slathok swam, his form ethereal, his consciousness barely given a form. Vistas of magnificent worlds ripe with ever changing life greeted him, sounds he never heard before, languages he understood at levels beyond mortal speech. Tzeentch was generous with his champion, taking the form of Slathok across the vast realm of the Eye. As time lost its significance, as concepts of brotherhood and duty were merely dreams to him, as his mind rose and soared above the chaos of the Warp, Slathok begun to think and this mere act of imposing order to an ever changing state offended the mighty Tzeentch, thus Slathok of the Eye was cast down, down on crude earth once more. Now a mere fragment of a bright soul, lost and cast adrift on a forgotten planet Slathok did feel the yearning for the freedom his master granted him, he yearned to be once more a part of the eternal sea. But the spirit that was once Slathok could wander no more, for how can one move when he forget how a creature walks, how can he fight when he forgot what struggle meant to be... Tears of blood run down the hallowed face of the spirit, tears of rage, despair, of longing... Slathok would shatter there and then to a myriad of fragments, embracing his god for one last time yet a voice spoke, a calm voice, a learned voice, a ... commanding voice, a voice Slathok knew to whom it belonged and shivered with the notion of fear... "Are you lost, little spirit? Have you wandered too far from the gaze of your father? Did you dare to fly to close to the sun until your waxen wings were no more? Like Icarus of old you have fallen, have you not, little spirit? Tell me, do you wish to fly again,... brother?" It was in that moment that Slathok cursed for the first time his patron. A mere toy was he to mighty Tzeentch, a brother cursed twice now only to be a plaything to someone even more cruel than this flighty god... "Abaddon..." "The same, little spirit. I see you recognize me o great Slathok of the Eye. Tell me, do you wish to fly again... brother, and answer quickly for I will not ask a third time..." "I do cousin of mine, I do wish to fly, but my wings were broken. I will... serve you Abaddon". "Fly you will... clad in chains of black..." And with that dreadful exchange, with those last, final prophetic words, the life of Slathok of the Eye, Magister of the Thousand Sons legion, his being, his world, ... all has shrunk into hateful form, into hateful stagnation... the walls closed in and the last beam of light was no more when Abaddon the Despoiler closed the urn. It is so that Slathok of the Eye has become Salastan the Philosopher, his name taken from old Chtonian which means "djinni" and cast into the mockery of his existence. For eons the mighty Slathok swam the currents of the Warp, learning everything that Tzeentch was willing to show him, experiencing blissful change, blissful evolution. A daemon prince they call him, but I ask you this, how can a prince rule from an urn, how can he soar high when he is shackled by aetheric chains into an object with a single form... how can a prince of the Lord of Change experience change no more? Arrogance, arrogance. Let it be this the lesson as you take in custody the Urn of Slathok. Arrogance is the essence of Salastan, he considers himself above me, above The Despoiler. He thinks that he will escape, but how can he escape from a prison he conjured for himself, how can he return to his beloved Raven God when he has wings no more. Arrogance, my lieutenant, arrogance is what keeps Salastan on my leash, now on your leash. Keep this in mind and the daemon prince will be yours to command. He is powerful, he is seductive, he is learned, but he is above all arrogant. The day your arrogance eclipses his own, it is the day that you and not he will be my next "salastan", my djinn. Remember Icarus of old, do not soar too high, lest the sun will burn your wings. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucio Posted January 8, 2015 Share Posted January 8, 2015 Whilst we're awfully close to the deadline, I'm thinking I might have time to complete a single miniature, is a Chaos Lord a suitable entry? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uprising Posted January 8, 2015 Author Share Posted January 8, 2015 Whilst we're awfully close to the deadline, I'm thinking I might have time to complete a single miniature, is a Chaos Lord a suitable entry? Sure Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucio Posted January 8, 2015 Share Posted January 8, 2015 In which case,I Lucio, Tactican for the Quintos, Warband of the Crimson slaughter vow to complete Lord Zoster of Nurgle, by January 15th. He who is a disciple of Typhus, blessed by Papa Nurgle with similar powers. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chaeron Posted January 8, 2015 Share Posted January 8, 2015 Oops, I thought I'd pledged - any chance I can simply include one of my Call of Chaos contributions with the appropriate fluff etc.? :) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucio Posted January 8, 2015 Share Posted January 8, 2015 Ok, so sue me, I was enthused by this and I'm done already! I'd had the model sitting primed for the last 3 weeks, and this got me off my arse to paint it, I even did the base to stop Warriorfish from finding fault :)Without further ado, let me present Lord Zoster Lord Zoster was formerly Apocathary Nightingale, a loyal member of the Fifth Company of the Crimson Sabres and part of the command squad of Lucius. When the Crimson Sabres became the Crimson Slaughter, Nightingale sided with Fulcus in the rebellion. As the warband morphed into the Quintos, Nightingale became obsessed with trying to prevent the warp tinged contagions that tormented his brothers. Time and time again he was defeated by the creations, spawn of Nurgle's will. Desperate for answers he turned to Zala'zarr for advice, and under his guidance, he stole part of the soul of a Plaguebringer, forcing it within his body. Whilst this caused suffering and pain upon his own body, he gained the power he wanted, he could take disease from his brothers into himself, suffering the afflictions until he was able to find a more deserving victim. In this, Papa Nurgle is both merciful and vengeful, the diseases are never cured, only incubated, but Nightingale gained his wish, his brothers were spared. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uprising Posted January 9, 2015 Author Share Posted January 9, 2015 Oops, I thought I'd pledged - any chance I can simply include one of my Call of Chaos contributions with the appropriate fluff etc.? Sure because... Ok, so sue me, I was enthused by this and I'm done already! I'd had the model sitting primed for the last 3 weeks, and this got me off my arse to paint it, I even did the base to stop Warriorfish from finding fault This is the purpose for pact, to get people excited to paint, to get people wanting to share their creation with everyone. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chaeron Posted January 14, 2015 Share Posted January 14, 2015 Oops, I thought I'd pledged - any chance I can simply include one of my Call of Chaos contributions with the appropriate fluff etc.? Sure because... Ok, so sue me, I was enthused by this and I'm done already! I'd had the model sitting primed for the last 3 weeks, and this got me off my arse to paint it, I even did the base to stop Warriorfish from finding fault This is the purpose for pact, to get people excited to paint, to get people wanting to share their creation with everyone. And share I shall! I've chosen to paint and put forward a Great Unclean One from Forgeworld for this - only one of the three I painted for the Call of Chaos though I, Chaeron, vow the following: By January 15th 2015 I will complete and paint the model of Scabeiathrax, a Great Unclean One from Forgeworld, and I will write the background for this foul creature. The very start: http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c254/TheNewAgeOutlaw/GW/GUO3_zps4c0834da.jpg You can view the three of them in progress here. The finished model: http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c254/TheNewAgeOutlaw/GW/GuOFront_zpsd9a57b33.jpg http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c254/TheNewAgeOutlaw/GW/GuOBack_zps23885d70.jpg Short Biography: There were once three brothers: an individual in triplicate, and with selfishness in abundance. Like all good siblings, they quarrelled. It was incessant: a desire to best the others, aggrandise oneself and be the centre of attention. It became a competition to see which of the three could achieve something that the others could not, and with time, these things became fewer and fewer. They pushed one another on to greater heights: feats of strength, contests and awards, but their prize was never satisfaction, for such desires can rarely be sated. It is inevitable therefore that this drew attention that went beyond a local concern, and their competitive natures were seen as being wholesome by something that was in itself anything but. When one speaks of being ‘plagued by daemons’, it is passed off as a colloquialism, or figure of speech, rather than the more literal application of that phrase that consumed this trio. Infected by Nurgle, one at a time, the brothers became hosts to the denizens of the warp, falling sick with a corruption that would meld their physical forms into corpulent gluttonous hosts for rot and decay. They accepted these gifts readily over time, as they grew larger and larger, embracing these changes as they saw to outdo their brothers even now with spurious personal hygiene and grotesque debasements of their bodies that were now hosts for all manner of disease. Carnage reigned as supremely as they did, and their travels together conveyed many a world to an early demise. Eventually, this would lead to a reckoning – one that had been brewing for years upon end, and would settle this time-old argument of who truly was the greatest amongst them. Their respective forces clashed, with the three bloated brothers battling at the centre of an all-out war for control over the daemon world they all sought dominion over. It lasted for several days, with untold atrocities committed in the name of the God that had spawned them all, with capricious Nurglings cavorting amongst the corpses of their fallen followers. At the end, one brother stood over the beaten bodies of his kin, and proclaimed himself Scabeiathrax, who would lord over the Blighted Pit. He granted mercy to his siblings, letting them leave with their lives, and charging them to conquer a daemon world for themselves, and so sowing the seeds for spreading their gifts through incursions out of the Eye of Terror. It has been said that every seven years, the brothers come together to feast and out-do one another once more as they used to, and revel in their elevation to daemonhood. And some background, for the Legion, updated for the Daemonic Pact 3: Over time, even the mightiest legions require reinforcement. The 4th Great Company has lurched from strength to strength since the Heresy, and continues to grow ever stronger with the power of the warp, with many flocking to its banner: marine, mutant and daemon alike. From vicious daemon engines of new creation, to immutable Plague Marines, the core of the Legion is represented most stoically by this long-serving, battle-hardened company. More organised that many other rivals post-Heresy, both within the Legion and outside, this preparation has stood them in good stead for their conquests and goes some way to explaining both their current strength and how they continue to grow and expand in the 41st millennium. Whilst fully in the embrace of Nurgle, these followers have not taken on many of the physical gifts that would otherwise mutate and deform them, and look to maintain working vehicles and armour so as to supplement their cause. A variety of older Marks of battle plate can be seen worn by Terminators and by the rank and file within the core of the legion too, in addition to those that have been scavenged and hastily repaired to ensure that constant conquest remains a viable possibility. Boasting a fearsome array of machines, supplemented by daemonic summoning, and a careful choice of mercenary allies and those who have been convinced to join the cause, there is a fundamental belief in the overarching unity of the Legion and its purposes. It is this drive that maintains both this order and battlefield dominance, allowing for nearly any combination of units to be fielded depending upon the opponent, and to operate in any theatre required of it. This diversity is seen as a strength by both ally and enemy alike, and as such offers a powerful psychological tool in addition to what the company can utilise when mobilising for war. A recent raid on a forge world has allowed for the modification of two Baneblades into Plague Reapers, as well as recruiting a rare renegade Imperial Knight and a Warhound Titan with allegiance to the Legio Mortis to the swelling ranks, to fully round off a company that is growing ever stronger and larger, and to cement this company as the largest known in the history of the Death Guard. In recent time, they have been joined by daemonic allies spawned from the warp, including a trio of brothers who became Exalted Greater Daemons, and have brought their forces to bear to complement the nefarious mortal marines, and to spread plague and corruption wherever they may walk. The mantra of “We are Legion” is most appropriate for arguably one of the Imperium’s greatest known threats, in the form of organised Chaos. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uprising Posted January 16, 2015 Author Share Posted January 16, 2015 We are close. Voting starts Monday. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chaeron Posted January 20, 2015 Share Posted January 20, 2015 We are close. Voting starts Monday. I might actually be in with a chance of winning something...! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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