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Showcase: Post your Dreadnoughts


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Well, guess I'll toss up my old timey quartet. And not a boxnought in sight!

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Ugh, and the model that started it all, the first FW thing I ever had to paint for someone. I bought in soon after and madness thus took hold. Every single bloody joint was magnetized... ball magnets in the sockets, the waist, the arms, I wouldn't be surprised if you stuck a credit card near it, the whole thing would demagnetize and stop working.

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@ Vykes

Love the poses on these guys, what a group of badasses. Especially love the guy with the gun in the air, it really shows off the ammo feed. Like an Adrian Smith artwork.

 

Here's my dreadnought...well he has boxnaught legs anyway.

 

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Hah, thanks Krakendoomcool, mate!  I find I kinda revert to that as one of my favourite dreadnought poses.  Feels more human, less robot, and it just kinda crops up from time to time and I don't even notice it :P Adrian Smith, man that's a name I haven't heard in too long.  Thanks again eh?  

 

Blasted great work on that Helbrute, too!  looks exactly like the squiggly wiggly one from the Inquisitor trailer. It definitely has that living abomination of Chaos look that just really fits with the corruption aesthetic without going silly on the cemetery spikes. 

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@ Vykes

Thank you. It is that Helbrute! I saw that trailer and immediately went about recreating him. He diverges a little bit from the inspiration, the halberd under the chaingun and I couldn't resist the Nurglings once I had the idea they could be carrying the ammo feed.

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One of the absolute best things about Chaos (and ork) dreadnoughts is the pure amount of additional little details you can put in that just brings it all to life.  For the record, I rather like the halberd blade under the barrel, there's something that says 'all out destruction' when you can mount a close combat attachment under a rotating cannon barrel with the blender spikes on the end!  And the nurglings with the feed in particular just nails the chaos feeling.  Big scary boss, tiny fat rot-cherub bobbing along being 'helpful'. 

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@ Chaplain Dosjetka

The base is great so are the lenses and the script. Great job.

 

That is gloriously disgusting.

Thanks for the comment! Cheers.

 

One of the absolute best things about Chaos (and ork) dreadnoughts is the pure amount of additional little details you can put in that just brings it all to life. And the nurglings with the feed in particular just nails the chaos feeling.  Big scary boss, tiny fat rot-cherub bobbing along being 'helpful'. 

You've really summed it up perfectly there. I also have Orks and enjoy grots for the exact same reason.

 

 

That is gloriously disgusting.

Or is it disgustingly glorious? :wink:

Disgustingly Glorious sounds like an amazing compliment coming from you Augustus. Thank you very much, I'll take it!

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Honoured brother Numerian of the Moritoi


 


"Previously a Proconsul of the Tharanatoi, Numerian was granted the honour of internment in a Telemon pattern heavy Dreadnought following his noble fall as part of the Legio Custodes strike force present at the end of the unification wars - the battle of Mount Ararat. He would remain a constant example of the heights his fellows should aspire to, taking part in conflicts ranging throughout the galaxy as first the Imperium was established through blood and fire, and later would fight again as hope and progress were sacrificed upon the alter of Horus' tyrannic aspirations.


 


Eventually Numerian would fall in the raging battle over Humanity's birthworld - fighting as part of a host sent to protect, or ultimately deny, the traitors access to the Forbidden Fortress deeply set in the Himalazia mountains. The vile Word Bearers, knowing alone they had neither the arms nor armour to confront such a mighty warrior, instead turned to their shamanistic practices and sadistic rituals, conjuring a great daemon the colour of dark crimson, who engaged Numerian upon the peak where he had held his ground for days.


 


Wreaking terrible blows upon each other, one fighting with golden fist wreathed in arcane energy, and the other with an axe that could cleave through ceramite as but an afterthought, the battle caused all but the most blood crazed of traitors to stop and feel fear. This welcome reprieve granted the rest of the Custodian host a chance to strike back, and consolidate their defensive positions. But this came at a price.


 


Had he been at his full strength, capacitors brimming with energy and atomantic barriers sizzling in the snowfall, the fight would have surely ended with Numerian casting aside the broken corpse atop the mountains. Alas, the ancient's golden plate was scarred a hundred times over, and his energy was almost depleted. The colossal daemon, though bleeding ichor from a dozen wounds, seized the opportunity, carving Numerian's left arm from his sarcophagus body. The next strike took the warrior's right leg at the knee, and the daemon-king began to gloat.


 


But no Custodian, especially not one as old nor as righteous, would die easily. Mustering the last of the strength in his fibre-musles and servomotors, Numerian launched himself at the beast, carrying them both free of the mountaintop. Even as the adversary, its wretched face bunching in anger and hate, tore into Numerian's body with claw, tooth, axe and whip, seeking to untangle itself, the two combatants fell. They fell from the highest peak, flame lapping against them at the violent speed of their descent. Aligning his Arachnus storm cannon up against the beasts neck, held close in the deathly embrace, Numerian's last action before they impacted the ground was to pulse all the remaining power into one final shot. One bright lance split the air, spearing under the daemon-king's chin, through a head cast in fear, and out the other side, before the tightly woven bundle of auramite and warpflesh impacted upon the rocks below, both breaking apart."


 


 


- Excerpt from 'Forgotten heroes of the Golden Legion', life-work of Custodian serf Aramon Taris of the Tower of Hegemon


 


 


 


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Edited by Aeternus
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The Thrice-Whipped Cur

While some Thousand Sons warbands trick the gullible into becoming helbrutes, the Unbound Brethren prefer to use enemies captured on the field of battle, and none more so than Space Wolves. Their most "favored" is Varl Sornsen, a brash young sergeant who was the sole survivor of his squad after his drop pod was shot down in a ambush laid by the Brethren. The Brethren sorcerers interred him in a Helbrute walker, and then bound within him a daemon under their control. Varl can now but rage helplessly as he is sent into battle after battle, often as a sacrifical decoy used to screen the advance of more valued forces. Even if defeated, the Brethren make a point to recover and restore him to functionality, dooming him to a fate of eternal war against the Imperium.

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