Lord Morell Truesight, Lord-Natum of the Emerald Canticle, member of the Jade Council, speaker of the Convocation of Life.

In his former life Moren Bell was an experienced general for the Elector council of the Jade Kingdom of Verandon. Years of war among the kingdoms took a toll on the old man, and he grew to resent conflict, choosing instead to forsake his duties and leave to the forests to live alone. Within the woods he came to know the sprites and messengers of Allarielle, and gave them gifts so that she may grant him permission to hunt and live off of her land. In return for his generosity and respect, he was granted a small pet owl and hounds to assist him in his hunts.

Years passed for Moren as time began to gain ground on his body. It was about that time that the ambassadors of Nurgle came forth through the forests seeking to speak with the representatives of the Jade Kingdoms. The ambassador stumbled upon Moren's cottage in the woods and offered him a respite from the weary world, a new body and immortality. The winters were long on his old bones, and surely he only had a few more seasons of hunting left in him before he would perish and starve.

Moren thought long and hard upon the offer before requesting a moment to gather his old thoughts, he returned inside his cottage and threw open his chest, donning his garb and armor from his days as a general and even hefting his mighty claymore upon his shoulder.

When the door slammed open the Nurgle ambassador was cut down immediately by the mighty blade, accompanied by a cry of pain from Moren. Each swing cost him dearly as his frail body betrayed him, and eventually the ambassador's guards finished him. With a dying breath Moren screamed out a cry of defiance upon the green wind.

His defiance was met with destruction, as the Nurgle followers ravaged his cottage, burning it to the ground in anger, killing every animal and fairie and treefolk they could find. The assault and fires drew the notice of the Verandonites however, and they readied themselves for defense ahead of the inevitable onslaught. Moren's bravery had bought them precious hours with his sacrifice that allowed them to stand defiantly against Nurgle's attacks to come.

On the green wind the soul of Moren Bell echoed, lost, as it wove in and out of the magic of life, its final cry of defiance letting all know its presence. Sigmar heard his defiance and saw the echo of the memory and gripped the mighty warrior's soul and slammed him upon his anvil. Reforged anew, Moren Bell became Lord Morell, and was granted a membership in the Emerald Canticle to exact revenge upon his hated foes. As an added gift, Allarielle herself even granted the soul of his fallen owl to Sigmar, so he could be reforged alongside his owner. This beast was granted an innate link to the green wind as a boon, and through it Morell can truly see chaos wherever it may hide.

So it was that Moren Bell, now Lord Morell Truesight, was cast down upon the realms of Ghyran as part of the Second Verse of the Emerald Canticle.

Their song is the song of life.

His song is the song of defiance.

Lord Kallen Woodbinder, Lord-Natum of the Emerald Canticle, member of the Jade Council, speaker of the Convocation of Life.

The Age of Chaos wrought hell upon the Mortal Realms, and the men of Ghyran suffered the most under the perpetual plagues and anguishes of the soulboils that Nurgle brought upon them. Kal Woods was a humble apothecary, spending his days in his wooded retreat brewing all manner of potions, poisons, and salves to heal any wounds he would come upon.
Long were his treks through the wooded glades of Ghyran, and many were his friends among the woodfolk and Sylvaneth that he came upon. More still was his status upon the outlying villages and cities who sought this wandering medicine man's gifts as he brought them cures for whatever ailed them.

So it was when Nurgle came marching upon the realm that the people of Ghyran began to march to the top of the mountain to find Kal Woods's hut. The first boils were simple, seeming like normal plague spread by beast upon man, but no salve or curate would bring them the relief from the pain. Each day another potion or drought, each day another death. Man after man, woman after woman, perished to the strange sicknesses.

Soon it was that even Kal himself found his body failing him as his skin grew sickly and pallid. He had become so lost in his work he hadn't opened his eyes to the sickness in himself, or the destruction outside. As he exited his home he realized the staggering crowds of sick and dying that lay about his hut, the number of dead piled, and the horrors he could see just down the horizon as Nurgle's crusaders lay waste to Ghyran.

The simple apothecary coughed, shook his head, and returned to his work, singing and humming some tune of faith, of hope, of truth. Sadly Kal perished to Nurgle's soulblights far before he found a cure, and what remained of his soul continued that song upon the green wind.

It was there Sigmar found him and rescued him from the maw of chaos. Struck upon the anvil he was reborn as Kallen Woodbinder and would be gifted status within the Emerald Canticle to lead their men as a Lord-Natum. Through him and his mastery of the green wind, souls would be stolen from chaos and death and driven home to Azyr to be reforged and reborn again.

So it was that Kallen Woods, now Lord Kallen Woodbinder, was cast down upon the realms of Ghyran as part of the First Verse of the Emerald Canticle.

Their song is the song of life.

His song is the song of hope.

 gummyofallbears wrote:
I like it.

looks nice, and would be cool as like a 5 point upgrade for scouts, maybe like a sniper rifle with AP5 and some other rules or something, just a thought.

cant wait for the assault squad.

your thread, not to be bossy or anything, but I would love to see some painted minis up here too!

happy wargaming,

-Mikey

It was dark and the sky was afluster with storm clouds when High Inquisitor Calliax’s ship landed atop a greater spire on Forge World Gorgonum. He walked out of his dropship to a mechanicus procession welcoming his presence on the world, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the view.

They were thousands upon thousands of feet in the sky, and down below were factories and pipes everywhere spewing smoke and particulate into the air. The line of factories abrubtly ended at a mountain range encirlcing them that broke the horizon. Blue and cyan lightning struck across the blackened sky as smoke poured out of one of the mountains in the distance.

“My lord,” a small machine (or was it a man?) whirred beneath him, “I am Hgillix, ambassador of Gorgonum and it is on behalf of the Adeptus Mechanicus we welcome..”

Calliax waved his hand, and the man went silent.

“I need no welcome, you should not have known of my arrival,” Calliax’s voice echoed in his respirator and he took a deep, mechanical breath and winced.

Hgillix showed no emotion but paused in awkward silence for a moment before he whirred up again, “We scan all incoming vessels through our neural net, its quite a wondrous thing, we integrate circuits directly into servitor-psykers that ha..”

His voice trailed off in Calliax’s mind, a jutting pain in his temples was distracting him. Calliax turned around and glared at his retinue while Hgillix continued going on, and on. The Lexmechanic, Orthos, had numbers flying through a screen on his bionic eye as the other other techpriest, Illthos the Transmechanic, was staring at him. There was a silent conversation going on that Calliax was weary of, but these men (if they could still be called that) were too useful to leave behind.

“Qhor,” Calliax’s gravely voice vented as his wheezing sped up.

A small man in an imperial robe walked over and bowed, “Yes my lord?”

Calliax just sighed and nodded, closing his eyes at the man, who proceeded to pull out a large green vial and lock it into a socket on the back of Calliax’s neck. A large thunk sounded as it clicked into place, followed by a release of some sort of gas with a hiss.

The effects were immediate as the drug flooded his systems, the pain subsided and in its place was a feeling of euphoria. Each breath became tolerable, even enjoyable as oxygen was once again properly flowing to his brain. With a click the vial was unlocked and removed, put away by Qhor into his pouch.

And just like that Hgillix’s voice came back into existence, still droning about the wonders of his invention.

“Its entirely legal by Imperial standards, in fact the plans were sent back to the Imperium should they ever..”

“I don’t care,” Calliax wheezed, “I’m not here to see what you’re newest toy is and whether it breaks the rules set down by the God Emperor,” Calliax whirled around quickly, his cape flowing and cutting the air as he grabbed Hgillix quickly and lifted him up by his bionic right arm. A dozen smaller metal hooks and utensils reached out from the apparatus, grasping for leverage.

“What!” Hgillix screamed out.

Calliax got close to Hgillix’s “face” and his voice boomed, “How did you lose this arm.”

“I.. It was..” he stuttered.

“HOW?” the scream would’ve sent spittle all over Hgillix if there wasn’t a respirator in the way.

“Inefficient.. so I.. replaced it.” Hgillix knew immediately by the change in Calliax’s demeanor that he had made a grave error, “But I..”

Calliax gripped the small man’s right side with his left hand, and with one pull ripped his bionic arm clear off. Blood, ichor, oil, and a dozen other liquids sprayed out onto the metal platform as the man dropped to the ground and screamed in agony, crying.

“Bionics are a gift from the God Emperor himself! Let this be a lesson you teach your brethren!” Calliax announced, raising his arms towards the sky. The crowd of gathered techpriests and enhanced nobles backed up and murmured, hiding their own bionics where they could. “The Ordo Cyberneticus sent me here for a reason, you have forsaken what it is to be human, and I intend to remind you.”

He turned around at the crying hunk of machine and man on the ground, he was flailing and screaming when Calliax picked him up by the top of his head. Calliax’s mechanical arm gripped deep into the flesh and metal. The man screamed as Calliax closed the grip tighter and tighter until a crunch rang out and everything went silent.

“Tell the Magos I have arrived, and I demand an audience,” Calliax pointed at the crowd and they scattered into the doorway. He walked to the edge of the landing pad and looked out again at the storm. Ghor walked over and Calliax extended his arm. Ghor eagerly wiped the various liquids and matter off of it.

Lightning struck a nearby spire with a loud crack and Calliax smiled beneath his respirator, feeling as though the Emperor was with him.

We will get to the bottom of this. One way or another.

 gummyofallbears wrote:
ahh yes,

they do look quite awesome with the 32 mil. bases, worth the wait.

I did the same w/ my reclusiam (how ever you spell it) chaplain, except with a cool FW backpack I traded, awesome model.

I love Tyrrus I believe (too lazy to go back and find his name), anyways the guy with two powerfists, a pretty grand base and overall cool looking model.

Cant wait to see some of this awesome stuff painted.

happy wargaming,

-Mikey