GhostMalone Posted October 11, 2015 Share Posted October 11, 2015 http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/the_iconostasis_by_d1sarmon1a-d8rdjrk_zpsjun1grhs.jpg September Completions Completed October Completions November Completions December Completions January Completions February Completions March Completions Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GhostMalone Posted October 12, 2015 Author Share Posted October 12, 2015 September Completions http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/perturabo_by_d1sarmon1a-d8q6lzp_zpsjfti6xwg.jpg Atia http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/med_gallery_79873_11268_418421_zpswxlfue7k.jpgIRON WARRIORS LEGION MARS PATTERN VENGENCE BATTERIESMars Pattern Vengeance weapon batteries are a relatively common sight on the battlefields of the Horus Heresy - first deployed during the early Great Crusade by the Iron Warriors Legion, these bigger counterparts of the more common Tarantula are fully automated platforms for heavy weapons, and it is said they were developed using technology similiar to the battle automatas of the Legio Cybernetica. Most often armed with a powerful Battle Cannon, or more rarer the new Punisher Gatling Cannon who entered service during the last days of the Great Crusade, the simple automated firing system will fire on any enemy unit it can sense. The thick plascrete walls of the battery make it invulnerable to all but the most powerful of weapons. The batteries are usually built just forward of the main defence line, where their automated fire can serve as advance warning of an attack while also driving the enemy into carefully pre-selected killing zones. They are also used - similiar to the smaller Mars pattern Tarantula - as a form of automated sentry that can protect important locations, freeing up more mobile troops to be used elsewhere.Vengeance Weapon batteries are easy to construct, extremely robust, and the simple Cybernetica-technology used to operate the emplaced weapon has been known to operate effectively without requiring maintenance. http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/khan_by_d1sarmon1a-d8pjv2j_zpsglmbijky.jpg Kurama http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20151012_101456_zpsrfwgsvol.jpghttp://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/curze_by_d1sarmon1a-d6obnne_zpstfww02ll.jpg Helterskelter http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20150929_211324_zpsitolporf.jpgOn his fifth birthday, his father gave him a slave girl. She was called K’aat and meant the world to him, and he took her everywhere day and night for 5 whole years. In the bleakness that was Nostramo she was his brightest light and made him feel wealthier than any of his family riches. Then the Legion came for him. They took him away from her to gene craft him into a superhuman warrior of the VIIIth legion.The deep thrumming of his guns generator calmed him. The caged power of a sun, a white noise that took him away from the din of battle, and away from the chatter of his brothers. Like most of his kin, he hated. He hated all of them bar a select few, his Captain, Vikan Prixus being one such individual. He always did as his captain asked, killed what he was told to kill, and he would have it no other way. A crescendo built within his Stormblade. The gun was firing, a rapid pulse, delivering two blasts wiping out a squad of legionnaires clad in black. Two white blue flares dissipated where they had once stood. Heavy Bolters chugging, lascannon stabbing red streaks into the darkness, men he once called cousin were dying in droves. Betrayal never sat well with the 123rd, regardless of the enmity they bore for each other, some things were just too great to be ignored.In his twenty-fifth year he returned to Nostramo born anew. Clad in midnight, marching in ranks alongside his new brothers they marched through the streets. Cheering was minimal, more the frightful gasps and terrified stares of monsters decked in the flayed skins of their victims, skulls imprinted on faceplates, wreathed in lightning. He cared little for the people. He cared only for one. That one who was his companion for 5 years of his life. The one who he could never forget. And he went looking for her. First to his old home, finding out his family had been murdered years before. But he would not give up. He stalked the streets for days until he saw her from afar. He knew it was her. She had grown over the years, but he could never forget. Then the scum came. 2 men in gang colours leapt from an alley and tried to take her. He wouldn’t let them. He charged to close the distance, screaming blue murder through his vox projectors and fired his bolt pistol twice.The battle done, the 123rd returned to the Long Shadows, the cruiser that was their home. After leaving the Stormblade in the hands of the Artificers, he made his return to his quarters. Small, few effects, save a table with chair and a large chest. He knelt at the chest pressing two release buttons on either side, and the lid lifted with a hiss of escaping chilled air. Gently, he lifted her from the chest, a fist sized hole where her heart should be, and he cradled her, still knelt by the chest.“Fighbus. You are needed.” The Voice of Vikan over the comms.“My lord” he returned.Carefully he replaced K’aat in the chest, sealed the lid, and made his way to the bridge.http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/guilliman_by_d1sarmon1a-d8pgvv2_zpswbwuwcse.jpg Praefectus Invictus http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/IMG_2055_zpsbflcu1ab.jpgEncounterLeneus and Quintus walked rigidly along the gantry, overseeing the works beneath them. Shoulder to shoulder in massive terminator plate, the newer Indomitus pattern, the were as one in the cramped confines. They were part of the relief force of arcology Gamma-I, a more minor area of little strategic value. It had come under assault from the Word Bearers in the last few days, and the shell force of tactical squad Derulas was barely able to hold the traitorous astartes.Smoke rose from beneath, coiling like a hydra amongst the workers and supervisors. Upon the gantry, for the briefest second, that smoke turned into a grinning astartes, in crimson red armour, wet blood glistening from ear to ear Then the smoke dissipated, leaving nothing but the gloom. Leneus snapped up his combi-plasma, bolt rounds cycling, but Quintus did not. "Brother, did you not see something just then?" He inquired, turning to face Quintus. His brother was still facing away, facing below. When his question went unanswered, Leneus grabbed his brother by the shoulder and spun him round. Quintus stared at him with dull eyes, and grinning from the bright red gash running from ear to ear. The crimson smile. Horrified, Leneus let his brother go, and the terminator toppled from the gantry and hit the floor with a thud, creating a crater in the already pockmarked earth. Aghast mortal faces looked up at him, wondering, terrified, scared...Calmly, he turned around and began the way he came, clanking down the iron shod stairs, to adress the crowd."We have an intruder. Proceed back to your billets and wait" The words come out as a gruff whisper. Anxious murmuring kindled throughout the crowd. Fear, he thought with disgust, the idea poison in his mind. Weakness. Failure. All were foreign to him, and the idea of it was not one he could ever comprehend.Leneus voxed to his brothers, setting the alert on the general vox. "We have an intruder in Gamma-I. Be wary brothers, for he uses sorcerous ways. Brother Quintus is down, killed. Be wary brothers. And suffer not the traitor to live. For the unforgotten 4th!"Leneus began his search of his immediate area, scanning through the work equipment and buildings. He saw no Word Bearer, save for the shadows fleeting at the edge of his vision, to fast even for his eye to catch. Attributing the sensations to lack of rest, Leneus began his way to the next area, but a feeling stopped him. It was the same feeling from the gantry. The feeling he had got when the Word Bearer appeared. Slowly he turned around, already voxing to Centurion Julion, asking for a general convergence on his position. The Word Bearer was standing there, grinning his crimson smile. A heart was pulsing in his hand, blood dripping down to pool into the mud. Leneus felt a pain in his chest. He knew what was waiting for him when he looked down, yet still he did. Curiosity commanded him to. Where there should have been impenetrable terminator armour, there instead was a gaping hole, tinged crimson, right where his primary heart should be. He laughed. It would take more than that to fell an astartes, they both knew it. In the blink of an eye, Leneus had raised his combi-plasma, and let loose with a searing bolt of energy. Smiling, believing his work was done, Leneus slipped into a coma, his sus en membrane giving him blessed sleep.+==+When they found Leneus, the found him dead. The proud warrior was no more. His once handsome features were stained with a rigour mortis smile, further enunciated by the ear to ear gash along his face. The crimson smile. +==+"To all XIII units, and those allied to their cause. Hear this and heed it. Arcology Gamma-I is compromised. Declared Pericolus Majoris from Mark 234:76. Beware the Crimson Smile. For the Unforg-"Last known transmission from Arcology Gamma-I, authorised by Centurion Julion Faerus+==+http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/aurelian_by_d1sarmon1a-d8p1g5h_zpsoqkucono.jpg Zujara http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/sepvowf_zpssw0scl4q.jpg Diabolist Jareth closed his eyes as colours danced in his mind, feeling the voice of the warp entity that had been calling him to a small, unknown planet. He had led the Broken Scythe Chapter to this world, where they were greeted by primitive tribesmen welcoming them as warriors of their god. The tribesmen told them of the sorcerers that ruled their world from a city made of crystal, and that these sorcerers had trapped the avatar of their god in one of their great temples. Their chieftain swore a blood oath to the Word Bearers, his men eager to claim vengeance. Jareth had been chasing these visions for months now, and although cautious of completely trusting anything from the warp the gifts and knowledge it had promised him were too tempting to refuse. He accepted the tribesmen, their knowledge of the terrain being valuable as was their use as expendable troops. He knew from the voice that the temple was near the middle of the city, and only its total destruction would break its bonds. Although resistance was fierce from the psykers inside the city, the siege was short and brutal. Destruction of cities was the Broken Scythe’s specialty and with the tribesmen bearing the brunt of the assault, the siege engines of the Word Bearers were able to focus on bringing down each layer of defense. A psyker himself, as the city fell Jareth could feel the warp becoming more uneasy and the voice in his mind became louder. As reality weakened, cackling pink daemons appeared from nowhere to reinforce the attackers. When the temple fell, he felt reality shudder for a moment and colours he had never seen before flooded over the planet for a moment. The Lord of Change, known to the tribesmen as K’tzach, spread its wings over the ruins of the temple and observed the destruction that had befallen the once great city of sorcerers. It reveled in the feeling of a plot that had come to fruition. The sorcerers of this planet had been strong, but arrogant and easy to manipulate. Years ago, it had guided the tribesmen to rebel against the psychic leaders of this world. It had allowed itself to be trapped by them, but the prison itself was one of K’tzach’s own designs. The city was designed to stabilize the warp to make it safer, but K’tzach manipulated the architects of the temple to design a flaw that allowed it access to the warp while trapped inside. Inside this “prison”, the sorcerers thought the daemon under their control and interrogated it for information and knowledge. T’zach’s true goal came when a warp storm occurred near the planet and it came under assault from a host of Nurgle. T’zach fed the sorcerers knowledge on how to fight the daemons, resulting in them claiming victory and sealing the Portalglyph in the same temple. It then called to the Word Bearers, letting them destroy the planet’s psykers rather than do it directly. K’tzach clutched the Portalglyph. Now, it had a powerful bargaining chip to allow other daemons access to reality. A rival daemon had been vanquished and the wretched city that calmed the warp were destroyed, all without involving itself directly. With a glance at Jareth, it granted him knowledge of summoning lesser daemons before it departed. As the daemon vanished, warp energies rolled over the planet. The Word Bearers seemed immune to it, but the surviving tribesmen were mutated into twisted halfbeasts or worse. Seeing their new forms as a blessing from their god, they swore to follow the Word Bearers and continue to fight for them.http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/hydra_by_d1sarmon1a-d8qr2qf_zpsdqjramc5.jpg Balthamal http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/20150928_213937_zpsrb7ihnz1.jpgTriton, Satellite of Neptune – Sol System – 1043 Days after the Istvaan V Dropsite MassacreIshamael Julvar had consigned himself to a lonely death. He had seen nor heard anyone for the past seventeen days. Even by the standards of his cell that was an uncommonly long period of time where none of his jailors had seen fit to check if he still lived. He had made a point of counting how long they were wont to abandon him previously, and that had never extended beyond five days. The VII Legion were nothing if not meticulous in their duty.But this long silence obviously meant that events were afoot. Over two standard Terran weeks was bordering on dereliction of duty in any other case. The riveted bands of silver around his bare wrists and ankles prevented him from simply pushing his sixth sense out into the prison complex. Indeed he was no longer sure his powers would manifest at his behest, he had never gone so long without calling upon them in some way though he had heard tell in his gutted Legion that psychic powers were known to atrophy quickly. Julvar supressed a sigh of regret. The XV Legion were dead, the third Legion to have their names and deeds burnt from Imperial history, the crimes of the Crimson King against his father the Emperor, too great for simple censure.The abrupt clacking of the door seals retracting snapped his attention back to the present. He lacked the strength to stand and face his captors so was forced to settle slumped against the wall opposed the entrance, his feet almost reaching the metal in the confined space. Three Astartes stood outside, the rich yellow of their armour identifying them immediately. One held a dataslate in his fist, the others merely kept their bolters held at ease across their chests. Interestingly, none had anything to denote rank.The warrior with the dataslate stepped to the threshold of the cell and glanced at the device once before speaking.“Ishamael Julvar. By order of Rogal Dorn, Lord of the VII Legion and Praetorian of the Imperium, you are to be transferred from this facility to Terra immediately”He motioned for the two warriors accompanying him to lift the stricken Thousand Son from the cell. As both entered, Ishamael caught the distinctive scent of oil and hot ceramite tinged with the unmistakable aroma of fycelene – smoke from the propellant in bolt shells. As he gained his feet he looked straight at the Astartes who had addressed him.“My bindings cousin,” he said, raising his arms to show his wrists.The Imperial Fist didn’t hesitate; “Of course kinsman” and he simply ripped away the silver in his gauntlets. Ishamael felt the Warp trickle back into him but ignored it to focus on his deliverer.“You are not of the VII Legion.” It was less than a question.Again no hesitation, “No cousin we are not.”“Then who are you! You are in a prison posing as members of Dorn’s Legion and he-“The false Imperial Fist’s laughter stopped Ishamael short. Of everything, laughter was the last thing he expected.“Cousin. Dorn has had you locked here for four years. Given the other things on his mind you are a very minor detail.”“There is no such thing as a minor detail.”Again, laughter. “No doubt Gulliman would agree with you. He however is not here, we are. And you are coming with us.”Still Ishamael hesitated. If he were being smuggled from the prison, why? And by whom? Were his brothers being freed too?The questions ceased running through his mind as he looked down the corridor and saw another Astartes start down the cramped space. This one wore ornate warplate, it’s surfaces chased with scales, silver serpents and undecipherable text written in a score of languages, most of them dead. Alpha Legion. It could be no other, which would explain the false Fists and the gun smoke. He decided to try one more time.“I’m grateful cousins, truly. Now who are you? And what of Dorn?”The Alpha Legionnaire stopped forty paces shy of him, his helm, surprisingly was wrought in such a way that the faceplate represented the unfurled pinions of the Imperial Eagle. He’d never have expected to see such a thing.“Cousin,” he said, making the Aquila before his chest. “We must see you safely from here. In approximately thirteen minutes every alarm in this rock will sound and the guns of a hundred brothers will be pointed directly at us. Haste is essential. And as for Dorn, Bane told you truly. He has far greater concerns on his mind at present. Like trying to reign in the aggressive impulses of the Wolf King and co-ordinate the invasion of Paramar V.Ishamael’s head spun with these revelations. Paramar V invaded? Leman Russ on Terra? Who was fighting who? Had the Warmaster lost all control over the Legions?“Who are you? And why is all of this taking place? My Legion’s sins I can at least bear witness to but Paramar is the domain of the Mechanicum and has Russ slipped beyond the Warmaster’s-““Enough brother. Answers will come with time. Time and distance between us and Triton. We cannot bide. And the Warmaster is why we have come. Your services are needed.”“Yes, yes, yes I will come. But for the final time kinsman, your name.”The eagle helm could have been boring a hole through his skull or been utterly lost in contemplation for all the movement and expression it presented. Finally, completely without emotion or inflection, a single word emerged from the vox-grill“Ruin”http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/emperor_of_mankind_by_d1sarmon1a-d8r46fh_zpsk0mi3rsv.jpg NovemberIX http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/f85e46b2889ef23c8b27a5ae799ebc6f_zpse7goyzaf.jpg++++Downlink Established++++=][= Restricted Access System =][=IUID:****************PW:*******************************+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Alpha9 Clearance++++++++++++++Inquisitorial Archives+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Briefing Report Excerpts +++++++++++------V.Balavedan-------+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++RE:Walkers of the November WarriorsDuring my sojourn with the November Warriors I've had some occasion to visitthe Walker Bay (also known as St. Ark's Bay[1]) on the Spite of Glatisant. Slumbering Dreadnoughts share space with the active Knight Titans[2] of House Garaipena (to be covered in a later report). Interred Astartes of the November Warriors chapter have shown an affinity to adapting to dreadnought combat, combined with their stores of a variety dreadnought chassis and weaponry, has lead to an unusually high number of active dreadnoughts. Mortis patterns being the most usual loadout.Though known the be rare, the Warriors have a small store of Contemptor marks and Deredeo chassis, armed much like the majority of their contingent in the same Mortis fashion.The Walker Bay is generally a quiet hall of slumber and reflection. The battle banners of the November IX hang from the ceiling, the colors and geometric shapes telling stories that only those from the Spite of Glatisant can fully appreciate [3]. Lining the run to the heavy walker bays are smaller alcoves that play host to the November Warrior Dreadnoughts as they rest in quiet slumber, being attended to by silent techmarines and their servitors.Attached is supplemental report Sierra-Rho20.DET it contains profiles of dreadnoughts and their interred++++++++++++++++++++++Opening File++++++Sierra-Rho20.DET++++++++++++++++++++Profile on Contemptor Reverie HillPilot:A H DavenportThe Contemptor known as Reverie of Akerson Hill houses the body of Captain Davenport. Pre-interment Captain Davenport lead the Devastator Cadre, having learned the quirks, faults and features of each heavy weapon in the arsenal there were none before him with such deep and critical understanding, and those after him have much to be thankful for. Davenport as an up-and-coming Astartes earned honors under the Tri-Star Banner and the Checkered Banner [4], he was also gifted a heraldry from the house Garaipena. At Pari Ridge Action Davenport was interred in the newly repaired Reverie. His first act upon reawakening was to request a Mortis loadout of Multi-Melta, access to a Lucius Pattern Drop Pod, and permission to lead an assault on the Xenos Stronghold. By days end, the Xenos hold on Pari Ridge was gone, and their forces planet wide forced into disarray.[1]A colloquial reference to a former land formation named for a Canoness whose defense of the bay leading the charge of Knight Titans and Astartes Dreadnoughts was thought to be too referential to pass up.[2]Temporia Junah and Epochia Fellisa[3]It is up to the Humans of the ship to design, create and gift the banners in preparation of campaigns and battles. The banners are visually unusual compared to what is generally seen across the Imperium, geometric shapes and vibrant colors, but are in my studied opinion free of any Xenos or chaotic influence, despite the suspicions of a certain Ordo Xenos wonk. [4]The November Warriors eschew normal doctrines in naming and organizing of their companies. They usually form as an ad-hoc battle group under one of their many banners. Earning honors usually denotes permission to wear a version of that battle banner.http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/emperor_of_mankind_by_d1sarmon1a-d8r46fh_zpsk0mi3rsv.jpg SW1 http://i1279.photobucket.com/albums/y524/Taron_James_Beer/Mobile%20Uploads/gallery_25187_11316_143095_zpsjzn6q4jt.jpgInquisitor Viridis FabaWhen not in the field Inquisitor Viridis Faba can usually be found tinkering with a new weapon or as he likes to refer to them, his "special toys". Viridis is constantly looking for technology and weapons which will give the Imperium of Man that illusive edge over the Xenos threat forever lurking in the shadows which seem to be getting longer and darker as the years pass. Willing to do what many others would consider heresy he specialises in finding the weapons of the Xenos most suitable to be used back upon them. Rather than grubbing in the dirt of long forgotten moons or planets he finds it's far easier to get relics and weapons to come to him. Viridis is to those who think they're in the know, a foppish fool with more money than sense. A collector of the weird and unusual, the more Xenos in origin the better. Many a trading cartel agent and rogue trader have enjoyed his no expense spared nights of cavorting with parts of his collection proudly on display.Just how he stays one step ahead of the Inquisition is greatly admired by his peers. For it is said hidden away in his more private collection, is a suit of armour that clearly belonged to one of it's members previously. A suit of power armour dark green in colour with the Ordos =][= proudly displayed on it's chest and the Aquila on it's left knee. With an inhuman almost robotic looking helmet, with large purple eyes that seem glow even though the armour is unpowered and no matter where you stand in relation to the suit those eyes seems to be looking directly at you. O how little do they know what a viper they had brought into their bosom, for that very armour is actually Viridis's battle plate. But this suits Viridis down to a tee. He takes great delight in stringing these greedy fools along with his theatrical flare which is helped along by his latent psyonic skills. For it is far easier to make them believe what they want to believe than planting new ideas into their minds that is against what they know or have seen.To help him keep this subterfuge on going, he sometimes enlists the help of his former Interrogator, now a fully fledged member of the Inquisition in her own right, Illa Felix. A woman who loves nothing better than to get to grips with her enemy face to face. This is in a stark comparison to Viridis who prefers to take a more supportive roll in battle.When the need arises, Viridis is strapped into his green power armour transforming him from the perceived foppish fool into a mighty warrior of the Emperor. The transformation is so complete that no one would guess they are one in the same person, cradled lovingly in his arms is the pinical of his research, a large complex array which if he is to believed is his own version of the fabled conversion beamer. What technology is actually contained inside is only know by Viridis and it's something he has never disclosed guarding it's secret jealously. What can be deduced is the power unit is much smaller than would normally be expected for such a powerful weapon. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dantay VI Posted November 13, 2015 Share Posted November 13, 2015 http://imagizer.imageshack.us/a/img540/7443/MBdhcp.jpg A perfect hunt & revelations http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151012_224517.jpg Bjorn pac (recon) & Iceblade pack (assault) The ambush had been almost flawless. Almost…. Recon squad “Bjorn” sat in the cover of a burnt out hab building. The area had once been a popular trading district and there had been many shops, stalls and homes. Now it was deserted, the wares long gone or turned to ruin and the bones of unfortunate citizens were spread across the square, picked clean by carrion birds where they lay. It had been gruelling work, hunting down the traitors and many of our leads had been dead ends. Keldane Blackfox was always just out of reach. Hel-born scum. It took all of my restraint not to emit a growl at the thought and give our position away. Entering the plaza a lone Wolf stumbled and fell. He tried to rise, but failed & began a painful crawl across the rubble. Scant seconds behind him, followed a gaggle of cackling Night Lords. Having thought they had found easy sport, they took their time inflicting maiming wounds on the stricken Wolf who made no sound and could barely defend himself. It was only after the lead Night Lord examined their prey and discovered something amiss, that the trap was sprung. As the gore soaked, midnight clad marines looked around in confusion, Egil Eiriksson’s sniper rifle silently coughed and the closest Night Lord dropped. Then 2 more fell taken down by Hjold Halfborn & Morgrim Deathtongue and they began to draw their real weapons and look for cover, not knowing from where they were being picked off. At a signal the sky blazed as grey clad marines dropped amongst their midnight brethren. With glinting axes and barking bolt pistols, Kjaran Cold-heart led his pack into the fray against his once brethren. More Night Lords dropped, their armour sundered by blade and bolt. Kjaran, Kassill, Skjara Redwolf and the Wolf-Blade began to reap a tally of cut threads forcing the Night Lords to breaking point. Some of the skitja stayed and fought, then died. It allowed the leader and his party to retreat towards the relative safety of an outlying building and from there, to make a stand. The safety was just an illusion however as Fafnir led his terminator clad pack into their midst. Where, before, there had been a solid wall, now it became a pile of pulped rubble. Fafnir and Starkadr burst through, shields to the fore and hammers swinging, followed on by the remaining 3 warriors of their pack. All hell broke loose for a few brief seconds as the Night Lords tried to recover from the turn of events. However the truly smart ones turned and fled before their armour was caved in By Fafnir and his Hearth-Hammers. Starkadr (far left) leading the Hearth-Hammers As the two remaining Night Lords fled the scene, one collapsed in a heap, careening head-long into a fragile cart demolishing it, the second rounded the corner and was away. It was at that point I called Kjaran’s pack back from trying to pursue. We didn’t want to get too strung out and picked off ourselves. We had already lost a lot of brothers that way. The little Lordlings may not have our heart for battle, but they do have a cunning which should never be under estimated. Fafnir Seeing Kjaran’s pack give up the chase, and watching the one Night Lord slip through his grasp, Fafnir flew into a terrible rage, like a baresark of old times… In truth I feared for my safety in that moment. He stormed over to me and there we were. Face to face. Kjaran's assault team created a cordon around myself & Fafnir, keeping my pack out and his pack away. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222404.jpg Agvald, leader of Bjorn pack “Why in all of the Hel’s did you allow that piece of skitja to escape?” “Who said we let him escape, Jarl Fafnir?” “One of Curze’s night cursed sons slipped away” Fafnir was getting dangerously an I could scent the kill urge on him. “Torvald, did we let the scum get away?” I called calmly over my shoulder, never breaking eye contact with Fafnir. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222345.jpg Torvald, pack huntsman “ No Jarl Agvald.” “And why is that?” “Our bolt rounds were envenomed Jarl Agvald… The one who fled, I wounded him myself. His wound will not heal and we can follow his blood trail back to the vipers nest”. I kept my voice low so only Fafnir could hear, for although I do not particularly like this man, I would not want to shame him in front of his men “So you see Jarl Fafnir, he hasn’t escaped at all. In fact he is doing something that no amount of interrogation would have given us”. I think I even managed to grin back at him, for his face twisted in frustration as he turned away. “We lost a wolf to set up this trap, that hunters blood will be on your hands Agvald” grunted Fafnir as he gestured towards the fallen man who had led the Lordlings into our trap. I believe he was trying to find a way to save face in front of his men, it was a shock to him when I told him who the dead wolf really was. “That is neither a Wolf or a Hound, but a blood-mad butcher, Jarl Fafnir. The World Eater was too far gone to give us any information, so we cut out his vocal chords and dumped him in traitor territory near a known Night Lords outpost. He knew where we were for we told him, and we knew he would come here looking for a fight. Apart from Hamma’s hand, we didn’t lose anyone”. It was then that the anger bled out of Jarl Fafnir and some of his humour returned. “It is a good thing that Hamma is right handed then, isn’t it? Tell me though, this was not a part of my plan, who decided to change it?” “I did roared a voice from the edge of the circle and as one we all bowed”. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Korianna was one of the 500 or so worlds which made up the Ultramar sector of space. It was a forge world supplying men and materiel to the ever expanding great crusade. Not a major world, it was however famed for having a Knight household standing over the world as protectors. The ultimate fate of the Knight household is unknown, but from archived records it would seem that a coup of sorts took place and like on many worlds across the Imperiumt, the Knight household was ravaged by civil war. It was around this time that the Word Bearers, Night Lords and World Eaters descended upon Korianna and despoiled this once verdant and productive world. A Space Wolves contingent was sent out to the world shortly after, believed by the Ultramarines to be one of the much-maligned watchpacks. Having ascertained that Lord Guillemann was indeed loyal to the Imperium, they were released from their duties and deployed to Korianna, to monitor the traitor incursion. The total strength of the force which actually deployed, was and still is unknown, however it is fairly safe to assume that it was well beyond the 10 man unit initially sent out. In these uncertain times it is suspected that the Ultramarines allowed the Space Wolves to act autonomously and if they were halting incursions into Ultramar then they were left free to act as they saw fit. In and of itself, this unusual display of leniency on the part of the 13th Legion shows just how stretched the Ultramarines had become by the unfolding treachery enacted upon them. The Space Wolves were known to use diverse tactics in hunting down the traitors on Korianna. Often relying on guerilla tactics such as ambushing their prey. Commonly this would be a multi-unit operation with a specially prepared kill-zone In the example above we can clearly see that the ambush was orchestrated by "Bjorn" or Bear squad (given this name due to the amount of equipment they carried, they were always "loaded for bear") http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222241.jpg Bjorn recon pack Once the trap was initiated, fast moving units would descend upon the foe to cause confusion, in this case it was Kjaran Coldhearts assault squad, the "Ice Blades" http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221227.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221715.jpg Iceblade pack. No record of how this name came about, however speculation leads to believe it was given due to the blades un-natural blue glow. Legend persists that these weapons were forged in the frozen heart of Fenris From markings and armour types seen on the individual members we can tell that, they have come from several packs. In the first image we can clearly identify mark 3 and the composite mark 5 plate being used. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221445.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221428.jpg Kjaran is bearing the mark of Vaerangi on his kneepad to display his seniority over the Wolves in his charge. As can also be seen on his arm plate is the old marking of Sergeant. Used mainly by Space Wolves of Terran origin, often worn as a mark of veterancy, amongst the companies. to When his pack was not ravaged by attrition, they bore the moniker the "Ironsides". This was due to their famed use of mark 3 armour and being at the forefront of each engagement. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221630.jpg This image is of an "Ironside", known as the Wolf-Blade. Clearly displaying the former pack marking on his kneepad. Initially they lost very few packmates further cementing their Ironside reputation, however as teh siege ground on, losses began to mount and packs were amalgamated to keep them at fighting efficiency. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221556.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221612.jpg An example of this is the unknown Space Wolf from Baresark pack Known for ranging ahead of the main force and found where fighting was fiercest. It is believed that Baresark squad suffered as high a rate of casualties from the wolf-curse as from the enemy. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221516.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221533.jpg "Iceblade" pack is also made up of mark 2 marines displaying the markings of the pack formerly called the "Stalwarts". A group of veteran assault marines who had fought side-by-side for decades, they gained their name for being ever present and always holding when situations seemed lost. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221842.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221822.jpg Former leader of the "Stalwarts" Taron Ironarm, earned his moniker due to his bionics and the great strenth it bore. Ever found at the forefront of his pack, often first in and last out. He is the bearer of the great axe "Icewyrm" http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222134.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222153.jpg While some wore their veterancy in he form of augmetics gained through injury in war others displayed it with honour plates or upgrades to their armour, such as seen here born by the warrior known as Kassill. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222019.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_222033.jpg Skjara Redwolf, was once tipped to be moved from the assault packs into the fledgeling chaplaincy being established within the Aett.. Despite his devotion to the Emperor and the legion, his psychotic tendencies and desires to rush headlong at the enemy that were often displayed in battle ultimately thwarted his chances of advancement. Skjara does not seem affected by this and appears perfectly content to fight in the vanguard of the Wolves assault, showing his devotion in a more "practical" way. http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221943.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221958.jpg Unknown member of Iceblade pack http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221927.jpg http://i1206.photobucket.com/albums/bb456/dantay_xv/20151113_221917.jpg Casualties were a constant concern for the Space Wolves as there was probably little chance of reinforcement. This image shows the warrior known as Hamma, just after the plaza ambush. He has suffered a catastrophic injury to his left hand. In later pict recordings his corpse was discovered. It appears that he had a hand weapon fitted to his armour in place of his missing hand. This was to eventually become his undoing as it limited his ability to reload his weapon. Unable to do so he charged an enemy position and fought in hand to hand combat. Lacking flexibility in his weapon arm he was eventually brought down by a band of rabid World Eaters, but not before having reaped a tally of his foe-men ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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