The Mountainfire Company - Imperial Fists/Ultramarines HH

[LordTwisted]

“My Lord, we have… a report.”

 

“... Lord Hale? Are you well?”

 

“... Icran?”

 

Icran Hale turned from the armourglass window where he had been standing, immobile. His Master of Ships, a slender, hard-faced woman, was staring up at his vast form, concern in her eyes. Her brown hair was slipping out of its usually well-kept bun, and she looked exhausted.

 

“My Lord, my apologies if I was over-familiar. It is just… you haven’t left your quarters for a significant period of time. Lord Knos was on the verge of shuttling over to us to see what was wrong. The crew have been unable to sleep due to...”

 

Icran furrowed his brow.

 

“Knos need not concern himself, Persephone. I recognise I have been... withdrawn, of late. There has been much to consider in light of, well -” he swept one massive, armoured hand towards the window. “I need not elaborate further.”

 

Persephone swallowed, trying not to look out of the window into the void. The storm unnerved her. It unnerved the entire crew, and seemingly affected even the transhuman Astartes aboard. Baseline humans had suffered terrible dreams since the warp-miasma had howled into existence just days previously.  

 

Icran continued, his voice a rumbling bass. “My understanding is that none of the fleet Astropaths have been able to pierce this storm. It is as though the Five Hundred Worlds have been entirely consumed by the Immaterium. I can only assume some vile process unleashed by Lorgar’s witchspeakers. We have entirely lost the trail of the Red Angel's beasts.”

 

He strode across his quarters, his yellow Terminator armour clanking across the deck. Persephone’s neck craned back further as he approached.

 

“Give me your assessment, Shipmaster.”

 

“My Lord, I cannot recommend the fleet making any attempt to traverse the warp-storm. It is larger than any storm recorded in our databanks. What is worse, the Navigators report that the light of the Astronomicon cannot pierce the storm. If we entered it, we would be entirely blind.”

 

She handed him a dataslate, which looked to be the size of a playing card in Hale’s vast gauntlets. He read it, digesting the complex information in a glance.

 

Hale frowned further, looking back out of the window into the heart of the Ruinstorm. The stars outside of the ship were stained a bruised purple, with flickering lights dancing across the void. Here and there, strange and unsettling shapes manifested in swirls of teeth and eyes. Across the other side of the ship was a clear, glittering view of realspace, standing in stark contrast.

 

Hale sighed.

 

“Please hail Lord Knos.”

 

Persephone nodded, moving across the modest chambers of the Household Commander to manipulate a small console set by the door. She spoke softly into a grille, before turning to nod at Hale.

 

“Lord Knos?” Hale’s voice boomed across his living chambers, as he moved into view of a pict-camera mounted on the ceiling.

 

“Lord Hale,” a voice crackled from recessed speakers. Hale gestured for Persephone to stand beside him, as a pict-image flashed up on a pictscreen in the living chambers. It was grainy, but clearly showed a tall figure armoured in brilliant cobalt blue plate, trimmed in burnished gold.

 

“Lord Knos, I assume you have seen the reports from the Astropaths and Navigators?”

 

“I have. It makes for grim reading. The Five Hundred Worlds are sealed behind this storm. It appears to be larger and more intense than anything seen since Old Night. The Emperor’s Light cannot pierce the sorcerous murk. My men would have us plunge into its heart, to defend Ultramar no matter the cost...” The Ultramarine left the sentence hanging.

 

“I do not doubt the valour of their intentions, but I must question the value of such a sacrifice. If we send the battlegroup into that storm, we will not emerge from the Immaterium. We… we do not even know if Ultramar still stands.”

 

Knos snarled in fury, his image on the pict-screen distorting as he spat out his words. “Make no mistake, Icran. Guilliman is alive. He has not suffered the same fate as Lord Manus, or Lord Corax. He lives. Ultramar lives.”

 

“We cannot know anything for certain while the storm persists, and it shows no sign of abating. We were sent to the fringes of Ultramar to hunt Angron’s mindless beasts, but now we may as well be becalmed.”

 

“What are you suggesting? That we abandon Ultramar? We abandon the Five Hundred Worlds? We spit on our oaths and trample our banners? That we run?”

 

Hale surged towards the pict-screen, startling Persephone.

 

“Never speak like that to me again, Knos. Think about what you are saying. If I let you and your men spend your lives like worthless coin and die in the warp, then I may as well throw my lot behind the scum we once called our brothers. We need to focus on what matters.”

 

Knos’ face softened, and he learned into the pict-camera, his face filling the screen.

 

“And what, Household Commander Hale, is ‘what matters’?”

 

Hale straightened, squaring his vast shoulders.

 

“Terra. The Throneworld.”

 

Knos said nothing for a moment. “You mean to take the fleet, set course for Terra, and what? Fight through the Warmaster’s burning front lines to enter the most secure system in the Imperium? With a handful of ships? Past tens of thousands of traitors, millions of their rabid followers and the warp-beasts that they command?”

 

“It is still a better plan than sailing into the largest warp storm humanity has ever seen without the Astronomicon to guide us.”

 

Hale turned to Persephone. “How long would it take?”

 

The Shipmaster bit her lip, thinking hard. “Ordinarily, with favourable currents? Six months. We are on the western edge of Ultramar, but reaching Sol still requires passing across a vast amount of space.”

 

Hale looked back at the pict-camera. “Six months in peacetime, so a year or more in wartime. We will still reach Terra before the Warmaster. And we will carve through any traitors we find on the way.”

 

Knos looked off-screen, clearly conversing with some of his captains who were in the ship’s bridge with him. He sighed, in a rush of static through the comm-link. He was no fool, and knew rushing back into the warpstorm would achieve nothing.

 

“To Terra then. But, Icran, you must promise me something.”

 

“Anything, brother.”

 

“If we find loyal Imperials in need, whether they be fellow Astartes, Imperial Army regiments, or non-combatants -”

 

“We will bring the full wrath and fury of the Mountainfire Company upon any traitors in our path. And I would hope the Masalian Fifteenth would be by our side, shoulder to shoulder.”

 

Knos nodded, with a small smile.

 

“Well then. I believe your Shipmaster has some preparations to be making.”

 

Icran Hale nodded, returning the smile before terminating the comm-link. Persephone snapped to attention, executing a crisp salute. Hale looked down at her, the smile still on his face.

 

“Shipmaster. Plot course to Terra.”

 

+++++

Hello all! Welcome to the project diary for the Mountainfire Company, a Horus Heresy Imperial Fists/Ultramarine Shattered Legion force.

 

I’d had Imperial Fists rattling around in my head as a force to do for some time, and I finally got started recently with some Cataphractii Terminators. As I was part-way through the first squad… I read Betrayer. The scene (keeping spoilers to a minimum) involving the Ultramarine breacher wall made me almost want to drop the Imperial Fist project then and there in favour of the boys in blue, before I had a brainwave.

 

I dreamt up the idea of a combined Fists/Ultramarines shattered legion force, crusading their way from Ultramar to Terra. The idea is that Icran Hale, the Household Commander of the Mountainfire Company, was on a cooperation assignment in Ultramar at the outbreak of the Heresy. The Dropsite Massacre occurs, followed by Calth.

 

He buddies up with Gregor Knos, a no-nonsense Ultramarine Commander, and together they chase down some World Eaters on the edge of the Five Hundred Worlds… only to be cut off by the true eruption of the Ruinstorm as Lorgar’s Shadow Crusade reaches its zenith. Unable to re-enter Ultramar, they decide to return to Terra, killing any traitors in their path.

 

Below is a small gallery of what I’ve done so far - two squads of Cataphractii Terminators, designed to be mixed-specialist close-combat veterans, with an assault cannon thrown in for rule-of-cool.

 

Oh, did I mention everyone is going to have shields? Thats right, this is a Stone Gauntlet force!

 

I’m working to build a 30k Centurion Mode army. The principles here are simple - infantry, walker and skimmers only. No tanks. Things like artillery or Leviathans are 0-1. This should mean the army is very infantry heavy, and aimed to crush other infantry heavy forces.

 

Next on the table are two (thats right, two) Deredeo dreadnoughts, and the first of the Ultramarine breachers. Watch this space…

 

Pictures: 

http://i.imgur.com/plBYZGqh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/RtC8sBLh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/TE6wsOZh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/yxErqS7h.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/bT6Glzbh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/ezjhOufh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/uU9yNYgh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/lkniPijh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/GYaxMXHh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/xV7645Hh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/1PFVKmBh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/SofWyTnh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/DsAgWijh.jpg

Edited July 27, 2017 by LordTwisted

[Commissar Molotov]

I really enjoyed the fluff at the start of your log! Very worthwhile read, and a great example of exploiting the spaces in the Horus Heresy to create a characterful and interesting force!

[lionofjudah]

Sweet!!! Nice yellows and weathering thus far!! Looking forward to seeing your boys n blue and how they mate together

[Grim Dog Studios]

Great fluff and the Fists are superb, can't wait to see what you do with the Ultras.

Colour me subscribed!

[LordTwisted]

"Steady..."

 

The daemonic hounds loped across the plaza, their claws skittering off of shattered flagstones. Sparks and licks of flame erupted wherever their warp-tainted flesh touched the ground.

 

"Lock," spat Sergeant Garrin into his helm-vox, raising his heavy ceramite boarding shield and moving it into position. The slab of metal weighed as much as a small civilian hovercar, but the Ultramarine was able to handle it surprisingly deftly.

 

The warp-beasts raced closer, braying and barking as they closed on the small knot of Astartes. The Marines were close enough to see their maddened eyes, and the ropes of bloody drool dripping from their fangs. 

 

The hounds finally leapt to close the distance, rocketing towards the shield-wall. 

 

"Engage." 

 

The Ultramarines roared in unison, thrusting their shields forward and downwards. One by one the hounds smashed into embossed symbols on the front of each shield, before being borne down hard to the earth.

 

In a fluid, practised motion the squad surged, stabbing out with power-gladii. The disruptive energy fields writhing along the blades made short work of their foes' daemonic hide. 

 

"Recover."

 

The squad reformed, ready for the next wave.

 

-----

 

Finished the first few ultramarine breachers. The first time I've done blue or white!

 

Quite happy with these. The helmets maybe could use a bit more work, but I think when they're presented in a squad they look good. No point going completely cross-eyed when there is going to be 30 of these mooks in a squad! not all of them will have gladii, but at least half of each 15 man team will. 

 

Kudos to the FW sculptors, its an excellent kit. 

 

I'm planning on doing some with lefthand white stripes, some with middle, and some with righthand, just to mix it up a bit. 

 

http://i.imgur.com/TIIGGFRh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/LjDmqPRh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/8QCPPFqh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/nOGkNtHh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/aJ1s0SLh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/IVNBFTxh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/Q7npjDdh.jpg

 

 

[brother tycho]

Lovely cataphracti termies, wait you started a fists army with.. terminators ;)

[LordTwisted]

"CONTACT LEFT!"

 

Halvir braced against the sandbags and kept his head down as his unit's autocannon emplacement opened fire. Traitorous guardsmen were pulped and pulverised by the high-calibre fire as it raked the street where they had tried to flank. It was over in seconds. 

 

"Sergeant, no further contacts."

 

He propped himself up, peering over their barricade on the second floor of a ruined Administratum building. The Turin 103rd had held this crossroads for nearly eight hours now, but they were running low on supplies. Halvir whipped out a set of magnoculars and scanned the distant broken buildings. 

 

"Cool the autocannon, Blair. We can't risk a jam if they push again. Still no word from any command elements, we have to assume we're on our own here. Still, no enemy armour in the sector and we can hold off footsloggers all day."

 

Blair, who looked after the squad's autocannon, nodded grimly and gestured for some of the other guardsmen to help him with containers of anointed coolant. 

 

Halvir continued to scan the crossroads, squinting through the magnoculars in a ceaseless vigil. 

 

Something caught his eye.

 

"103rd, look sharp. Something's coming down the Mundus Colonnade, on the right."

 

He fiddled with the magnoculars dials, bringing the fuzzy picture in and out of focus. It took a few more precious seconds before he realised what he was looking at.

 

"L-legion elements coming down the colonnade. Get the autocannon ready!" He cursed internally at the temor in his voice. He could see four huge, hulking figures moving amongst the once-grand columns lining the avenue below them. Purple and ivory, clad in bulky Tartaros-pattern armour. 

 

The autocannon was swiftly redeployed, and it opened up with a throaty roar. Heavy shells crashed into the Legion assault elements, as they broke into a loping run. Halvir blazed away with his lasgun, trying not to panic as the weapons had absolutely no effect. The Terminators began to open up with short-ranged bolt weapons, smashing chunks off  of their second-floor dugout. 

 

The Astartes' superhuman gait ate up the distance at a horrifying fast pace. Halvir clamped down on his panic, trying to think of anything they could do to stop the traitors entering the Administratum complex. 

 

BOOM. 

 

A hab-block wall halfway down the ruined avenue completely imploded, with a mechanised walker crashing through the breach. It was cobalt blue with white trim, and in place of its arms were two humming plasma weapons. 

 

"TRACKING."

 

The walker braced, rotating on its waist gimbal to take aim at the surprised Emperor's Children. They skidded on the broken concrete as they tried to change direction. 

 

"ACQUIRED."

 

The Dreadnought's voice was harsh and artificial. The plasma weapons cycled up with a whine, glowing a fiery orange. 

 

"ERASURE."

 

As the first of the Terminators began their charge against the new target, searing bolts of plasma were spat out by the Deredeo at a blisteringly fast pace. Gaping holes were blown in the Taratos battleplate, smashing the warriors off their feet with flashes of light. Halvir was temporarily blinded, and when his vision cleared it was over. 

 

The Dreadnought observed the smoking carcasses of the Emperor's Children, before turning dismissively away and stalking down the city street, ceaselessly tracking for the next target.

 

-----

 

The first of two Deredeos is complete - the Ultramarine one, a representative of the Masalian XVth. I'm planning on adding an Aiolos missile launcher to it in the future, but I forgot to order two unfortunately so it'll be topless for now!

 

I'm pretty happy with now this turned out, albeit the wires are a bit crooked as they're very hard to reposition even with hot water and a hairdryer. He looks a bit tilted up but it isn't as pronounced when you see him on the battlefield. 

 

Next up is the Imperial Fists one, which is going to have the autocannons rather than the plasma battery. Watch this space!

 

http://i.imgur.com/08ZPyyIh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/IErpZDXh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/V7x6DYBh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/W3MOHsSh.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/KnlJviah.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/d6yHOf2h.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/GxXSABBh.jpg

[LordTwisted]

Some progress! I have been working hard on an Imperial Fists Deredeo... he's finished but I want to have some time to write a nice fluff post before I show off the finished product - some WiPs below!

 

These show the colour application and beginning of the metallics, with work on the stripe at the top and the decals. Its had a lot of weathering since then!

 

http://i.imgur.com/dA9Y5nal.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/dOjsrFWl.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/Vzu9kgzl.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/Zs2YzVAl.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/oiQCu3zl.jpg

[LordTwisted]

"Push forward! We need to silence their surface-to-ship emplacements!"

 

Sergeant Garrin vaulted over a burnt-out Scimitar-pattern jetbike, pounding down a side street with his squad at his back. They needed to silence the enemy heavy gun batteries, lest their supporting orbital elements get overwhelmed and leave them trapped planetside. 

 

He skidded around the corner past a shelled hab-block, spotting the entrance to the vast Heretek weapon emplacement. A pair of Contemptor-pattern dreadnoughts flanked the sealed doorway, scanning the city ruins for enemy contacts. They were emblazoned with lightning bolts and draped skins. Night Lords. 

 

As Garrin's breacher squad formed up, shields locked and swords up, the Contemptor dreadnoughts howled a garbled warcry and launched themselves down the pitted roadway in great bounding strides. 

 

A legionary at Garrin's side opened the voxnet as the dreadnoughts closed the distance. 

 

"Sire. Krak-pattern grenades will be insufficient to pierce their armour. We have a single melta bomb. Theoretical: destruction of one enemy construct. Practical: Unacceptable XIIIth legion casualties."

 

Garrin's post-human mind raced with possibilities, theoreticals and practicals. They needed to disable the anti-ship energy lances which stabbed up into the bruised purple sky. They had no practical anti-armour weaponry. The dreadnoughts were mere feet away. He opened his mouth to voice a withdrawal order-

 

"ERASURE."

 

The words, garbled by an artificial synthesizer, cut across the noise of the incoming Contemptors. A firestorm erupted from behind Garrin's squad, punching into the surprised Night Lords walkers. The Ultramarines whirled around to meet the new threat...

 

A golden yellow Deredeo-class dreadnought, spitting fire from a pair of Anvilus Autocannons. As they watched, Aiolos-class missiles arced from a carapace-mounted launcher, shattering the chassis of both Contemptors. They stumbled and collapsed, inches from Garrin's men. He watched with satisfaction as the light died in their eye-lenses. 

 

The Deredeo paused, its weaponry glowing from the sustained fire. Its onyx-black head, barely visible over a high protective collar, looked down at the Ultramarines.

 

"BROTHERS OF THE THIRTEENTH. ADVANCE. SECURE THE EMPLACEMENT. ELIMINATE THE HERETICS."

 

Garrin nodded with a smile, before turning to  charge the lance-battery. 

 

+++++

 

Hello! The Deredeo is complete, and I'm very happy with how this one turned out, despite it taking ages to do with all the fiddly metallics! I think the pose is a bit more dynamic. 

 

Next up is some more Ultramarine breachers - the Mountainfire Company comes together!

 

http://i.imgur.com/JI3z9JE.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/83cEy1Q.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/GI9Md7a.jpg

 

http://i.imgur.com/704sTGG.jpg

[disease]

Sure wish a certain IF Preator would find his way on this thread.. cough

[LordTwisted]

Bringing this back! Working towards the London GT in May. My latest creations...

 

+++

 

"Do you know the origin of the word Cataphract?"

 

The question hung in the air, as the Spartan Assault Tank roared across the rutted and broken ground of Galantia. Once a glittering harbour perched on the edge of an azure sea, it was now a charnel house of smoke and oil, littered with the dead and infested by howling World Eaters.

 

Schist looked around the red-lit compartment at his fellow hulking Astartes. The vox-net was silent. 

 

"On ancient Terra, the cradle of mankind, there was a city. Konstantanbul. Its walls and fortifications were famed throughout the globe."

 

None of the Terminators crammed into the hold responded, but Schist could see their heads inclining in his direction as they listened. Smiling inside his helmet, he continued his oration.

 

"The Byzyntii, rulers of this fortress city, were famed for their horse-mounted soldiery. These men were known as the Kataphrakoti - the Imperial Cataphracts. Their role was simple. They were the fist of the Byzyntii Emperor. Clad in the finest, heaviest armour, both man and steed, they rode to the heart of enemy formations and drove a bloody wedge through their foes. The slaughter they would visit upon the opposing force would be the turn of every battle."

 

Abdurus, the Company's Primus Medicae, paused his obsessive checking and re-checking of his medical equipment, as Schist's voice began to swell over the vox.

 

"The name of your armour is no mere coincidence. The legacy of these ancient warriors is your inheritance. You are the finest examples of Astartes that the Mountainfire Company can place on the field of battle. You have been given the thickest ceramite and the most potent weaponry our Forge-lord can offer. This vehicle" - he slammed an armoured gauntlet into the Spartan's hull, the crash ringing through the hold - "is your steed. It will deliver you into the eye of the storm. Your only role is to then cut your way free, and drive the enemy before you like sheep before a wolf."

 

Schist rose to his feet, picking up his thunder hammer from where it hung on the wall of the Spartan.

 

"WE ARE THE HAMMERBLOW! THE CRASHING STRIKE WHICH MAKES THE TRAITORS REEL, AND BREAK!"

 

The armoured Terminators rose as one, roaring their approval. The Spartan began to accelerate, the sounds of battle getting louder and louder, even through the vehicle's thick armour plating.

 

"+++THIRTY SECONDS TO ASSAULT+++ " the driver spat through the vox. The Terminator heavy assault team picked up their storm shields, a low thrum vibrating through the confined space as energy fields activated.

 

Schist slammed his hammer into his own shield, again and again.

 

"REMEMBER BROTHERS, THIS IS BUT A STEPPING STONE ON OUR ROAD TO TERRA!"

 

"WE ARE THE BEACON ON THE PEAK. THE LONE LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS. CHARGE, MIGHTY CATAPHRACTS, AND DO NOT STOP UNTIL NOT A SINGLE TRAITOR IS LEFT ALIVE!"

 

Schist's last words were drowned out in the deafening roar of the squad as the assault ramp slammed down, flooding the Spartan with dust and light. 

 

They charged.

 

+++

 

So I have been working on a few things lately, and I'll post them bit by bit. The most recent things I've finished are a Spartan - name TBC - and a Chaplain, called Schist. He's going to be with a primus medicae, praetor, and 10 stormshield terminators... should make even a Primarch pause for thought!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 21, 2018 by LordTwisted

[Bjorn Firewalker]

The history lesson is well-written, the accompanying models well done.

[The_Stray_Idea]

Stunning work. That spartan is quite fantastic. Your historical pre assault prep talk was a cracking read. as For the mountain fire company. I pity any traitors that come up against this combo of legions with the ROW you are running.

[Brother Pheidias]

Nice combo you've picked, and great painting. The white on the Ultra Breachers seems a little flat compared to the rest, a very thin wash of sepia in the recesses might be appropriate, or a gray wash if you prefer them cold white?