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Brotherhood of the Shattered Spear


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  • 2 months later...
  • 2 years later...

Where are those helmets glaives and curved power swords from. Lovely stuff mate!! And how did you do those scales on the legs?

The helmets on the last batch are Breacher helmets with greenstuff filigree and the pointy end of a thumb tack, the swords are from Mastercrafted Miniatures, dunno if they still operate, and uuuh, which glaives? They're all custom made from various bitz.

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There qere some glaives in there. I had a look and conversion world they do glaives and scimitars as well.

But you got scales on some of their legs looking like leather armour. How'd you do that?

On the command group? Those are just the Mk. III command group? The Praetor is based on an Alpha Legion Praetor, and if you meant on the Keshig, they're based on Death Shroud.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Semion Granacs vision was swimming with target-idents, a veritable swarm of ivory-armoured Scimitar jetbikes had descended on the Death Guard positions, and, predictably, the same warriors he might once have acknowledged as cousins were turning tail, again. This time, they would not get away. Sweeping from their concealed forward position, Granac led his warriors on a path to intercept the White Scars as they sought to pull off another feint, that had nonetheless already cost Barbarussian blood. He could scarcely keep the cruel sneer of a smile from translating across the vox to his warriors: "For the Deathlord and Horus, this is where we hold them!". As the Death Guard trap closed, he imagined he could see the uncertainty and confusion in the stuttering maneuvering of the V. Legion riders as Granac and nearly seventy others aimed their boltguns at them. A sudden twisting turn from the lead jetbiker, and the whole squadron veered of sharply towards the centre of the engagement, and Granac noticed the urgent vox-signal alert. As he blink-clicked the channel open, he also noticed the subtle, grinding vibrations signalling the approach of some new enemy. Eyes narrowed, he turned, the last bit of the vox-signal filtering into his consciousness"...ew contact! Enemy heavy armour inbound!". Then he saw the massive hulk, a Fellblade-chassis leading the charge of what appeared to be a full armoured company. The huge turret swung across towards the Death Guard forward position, and as his auspex rang off the alarming numbers detailing a massive energy spike from the tank, Granac found himself staring straight into the fulminating maw of the enemy. A roar, like a thousand furnaces filled his ears, and then Granac knew no more.

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While the White Scars in general, and the Brotherhood of the Shattered Spear in particular emphasized speed and mobility, sometimes a hammerblow was needed instead of the thousand cuts the V. Legion would often employ to bleed an enemy out. The Urintuya was a prime example of this, deployed rarely, it formed the core of the Shattered Spears only heavy tank squadron. Alongside its cousins, the Fellblades Alghnu and Chokilch, it spelt the ruination of uncounted enemies of the Imperium.

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  • 3 weeks later...

He was running, again. They all were. Dozens of ceramite-armoured boots pounding across hard-packed earth, skirting the bolter-riddled hulls of two Sabre Hunters, the sea-green of the Betrayers own Sons schorched and pitted. They had always been moving, thus was the creed of the steppes of far-off Chogoris, and this the Khagan had brought with him to the stars, to the Imperium of his father, which was even now tearing itself apart. Bathestur had never known stillness, not as a youth traversing the immeasurably vast seas of Reijke grass, not in the courts and marshalling yards of Quan Zhou, and particularly not now. The XVI. Legion had overextended themselves, their forward dropsite was even now being turned into a killing ground, the unexpected breakthrough of the Brotherhood of the Shattered Spear had seen to that. up ahead, strobing muzzle flares and the staccato drumming of boltguns marked out one of the last knots of defiant Sons of Horus. Their armoured support had scarcely had the time to escape the cradling embrace of their landers before the White Scars had been on them, running rings around the floundering armour, leaving the infantry to dig in, no backward step possible, if they had even been able to entertain the notion. And now, they would die, to Bathestur and his brethren, another vengeful blow in the long slog to return to the side of the Warhawk, to stand with the Ordu on Ancient Terra itself


--- Bathestur, honoured as Irbuchaivan, "The Blade That Never Rests", Avarga of the Minghan Khagarsanjad ---

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It's always great to see you add more to your Scars, Pheidias. :thumbsup: What's the next addition going to be? And I could I please request an army shot? :smile.:

Thank you!

 

I'm currently doing some AT and Skaven, and the next 30k will likely be for the Sons. I am eyeing the Khan and some Golden Keshig soonish though, with the latter modelled to match the Command Squad from a little bit back.

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