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2015/05/01 16:26:11
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Otto Weston wrote: 56k Words, Wow. Also, don't be so shy, it's good stuff! An Ork symbol on a Hell-pistol, there might be an interesting story behind that too.
I suppose it could even be a cat (?), I just liked the idea of a high ranking Seneschal being so bad at drawing that nobody can work out what he put on there.
(61k now ) I'm shy because whilst I adore reading the fluff and background, I'm not an experienced 40K vet, just a relative newcomer. With the width and breadth of the universe, there'll doubtless be things I merrily skip over in my writing because I wasn't alive in 1985, or haven't read [x].
Anyway, I'll get those other fellas scratched up over the back holiday weekend.
Otto Weston wrote: 56k Words, Wow. Also, don't be so shy, it's good stuff! An Ork symbol on a Hell-pistol, there might be an interesting story behind that too.
I suppose it could even be a cat (?), I just liked the idea of a high ranking Seneschal being so bad at drawing that nobody can work out what he put on there.
(61k now ) I'm shy because whilst I adore reading the fluff and background, I'm not an experienced 40K vet, just a relative newcomer. With the width and breadth of the universe, there'll doubtless be things I merrily skip over in my writing because I wasn't alive in 1985, or haven't read [x].
Anyway, I'll get those other fellas scratched up over the back holiday weekend.
Have some good ideas. Void born iligitimate son of a ships captain, a catchan veteran of the Armageddon wars, a man fleeing justice hiding as a loader, another who survived a ork attack thanks to going for a leak!
Sgt. Vanden - OOC Hey, that was your doing. I didn't choose to fly in the "Dongerprise'.
"May the odds be ever in your favour"
Hybrid Son Of Oxayotl wrote:
I have no clue how Dakka's moderation work. I expect it involves throwing a lot of d100 and looking at many random tables.
FudgeDumper - It could be that you are just so uncomfortable with the idea of your chapters primarch having his way with a docile tyranid spore cyst, that you must deny they have any feelings at all.
2015/05/03 10:07:04
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
I would like to do the fluff for the 1st Veteran squad if you please. Seeing this kind of thread again makes me want to do one on my Skitarii warriors, I'm not great at making fluff, but I'll try my best!
There's no turning back... Triumph or oblivion.
2015/05/03 11:22:04
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Decay wrote: I would like to do the fluff for the 1st Veteran squad if you please. Seeing this kind of thread again makes me want to do one on my Skitarii warriors, I'm not great at making fluff, but I'll try my best!
1st Veteran Squad is yours! Your best fluff is all I ask If you did one for your Skitarii, I would gladly help as well.
Sg. Drew was once a conscript in the Cadian 210th, drawn into the military when an Alpha Legion insurgency ravaged Drygon II. The planets people were split into two, The Loyal and the The Seeing Eye. Drew was one of 200 conscripts sent into the Hive city, Pologus, to reclaim the Manufactorum. When they arrived, they were ambushed by followers of Tzeentch, Drew was lucky...knocked unconscious by falling rubble at the outbreak of the attack. When he awoke...the scattered bodies of his own conscript platoon lay motionless in a large pool of gore around him: an image now ingraved into his mind. Suddenly a voice broke out through the rubble, that of a socerrer. "The lapdogs of the carrion Emperor are all too easy to kill..." He whispered in dark tones. Drew silently removed the rubble from him, and snapped the bayonet off of his now destroyed Lasgun, on the floor above the sorcerer, he now had the advantage. Leaping from the ledge, he fell and plunged the sharp blade into the revealed head of the heretic...
Three days later he returned to HQ, recalling his tale to those who would listen, but the Commisars cared not for him, he was corrupt to them after all. Just before Drew was about to be executed, an Inquisitor dressed in holy gold armour intervened and took him away. Drew now vows to give his life to the service of the Lone Gryphonnes, and he's never lost sight of his old, rusted bayonet, "Releaser".
I could also make fluff for the whole squad if you wanted me to.
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2015/05/03 21:08:19
There's no turning back... Triumph or oblivion.
2015/05/03 20:13:39
Subject: Re:Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
I have a question, is it chaos undivided they fought, or is the sorcerer just really confused about khorne? Khorne doesn't like sorcerers, but if one were to be chaos undivided he would kinda have to give patronage to khorne, and khorn might grudgingly give him something, maybe.
Irishpeacockz-Blackjack needs a pay raise for being the welcomer to the crusade
Palleus-Write a school essay about Kroot! Pride. Prejudice. And Cannibalsim.
2015/05/03 21:00:49
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Now I'm feeling better,I'll get some concrete progress and post it in one or 2 days, got 4 crew out of 5, just missing the driver.
Sgt. Vanden - OOC Hey, that was your doing. I didn't choose to fly in the "Dongerprise'.
"May the odds be ever in your favour"
Hybrid Son Of Oxayotl wrote:
I have no clue how Dakka's moderation work. I expect it involves throwing a lot of d100 and looking at many random tables.
FudgeDumper - It could be that you are just so uncomfortable with the idea of your chapters primarch having his way with a docile tyranid spore cyst, that you must deny they have any feelings at all.
2015/05/03 22:05:39
Subject: Re:Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
No-one remains now of the original members of the 1st Rough Riders from Gryphonne II, the casualty rate amongst rough riders being understandibly even higher than that of more conventional squads. However the five machines of 1st squadron are the same five quad bikes originally assigned to the unit by the Inquisitor when the Gryphonnes were first brought to the fortress.Now heavily modified and extensively re-engineered and repaired these machines are the true veterains of the unit.
Any Wrecked bikes of the 1st rough riders are painstakingly salvaged and restored with almost religious dedication by the surviving members after each battle. Often using scavanged parts and odd detritus from the battlefield or around the fortress to make do and mend. As a result they have earned the moniker "the Magpies" due to their constant pinching of shiny things for their bikes. Belt buckles, bullets, coinage and dog-tags are commonly incorporated into the welded joints and even a severed bionic arm has been used in the Re-fabrication of the handlebars of one of the bikes.
As may be inferred by some of these objects, what may have begun with simple mechanical neccessity in the early days of the units founding has developed into something more meaningful. Many of the repairs and additions to the bikes are evidently of a more personal nature such as charms or memorials of previous bikers now long forgotten by anyone now currenty riding. In their darker moods bikers of the 1st Rough Riders can be seen tinkering, etching and polishing personal totems to add to their own bikes knowing full well these small legacies will likely last much longer than their own doubtless short careers.
Currently The longest serving member and therefore defacto sergeant of the magpies is a huge-built mustachioed skin head by the name of Crowe. His riding goggles are never off his head and a pair of twin belts criss-cross on his waist. On one belt he wares a weighty bolt pistol which he wields with the dexterity of a fencing foil often at breakneck speeds. On the other belt he carries his favourite adjustable wrench "the nut-cracker" with which he is perpetually tinkering on one or other of the squads bikes. He carries and indeed requires no other weapons than these.
Sergeant Crowe's quad bike is the largest and by far the most heavily modified of the five original machines maintained by the squad. Although many replacements and repairs have been made since it is clear that this machine was once painted mars red and it even prominently displays a Mechanicum sigil. It is unknown if the machine was ever really in the hands of the Mechanicum or one of its adherents but what is clear is that accepting battle damage it rarely breaks down and it starts first time, every time. Sergeant Crowe calls this bike "the Red Bull"
Although the squad had been called the magpies long before Crowe was their sergeant his corvid name and charismatic personality have gone a long way to cementing the title and legacy of one of the more transitory units of the fortress deffence force.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2015/05/04 19:35:59
These are all great. Here's my take on the Deathstrike Launcher... let me know what you think!
Spoiler:
‘Jane Doe’, Deathstrike Missile Launcher
The departmento munitorum is a stingy, bureaucratic beast at the best of times; and where Deathstrike Launchers are concerned, this is doubly true. Being such a rare and indiscriminate weapon, Deathstrikes are strictly tracked, usually being “leased” to guard companies rather than permanently assigned like more common vehicles. Every move, repair, or refit is meticulously documented, and actually firing the weapon requires such a mound of paperwork that many commanders simply forgo their use entirely, letting them sit in the motor pool gathering dust.
So it was a great surprise to the Gryphonnes to find a working Deathstrike amidst the wreckage of a rebel base of operations on Gryphonne 5 during the Cain Insurrection. It’s history was a mystery: either the rebels or another, previous owner had long ago removed any stamps of manufacture or serial numbers, though there was nothing to indicate they had ever been there in the first place. It’s hull bore none of the usual campaign markings or personalizations so common to the vehicles of the Imperial Guard, or indeed any indication of wear and tear, as fresh as if it had just rolled off the assembly line. Even it’s payload was bereft of any identification.
Faced with such an enigma, the commander of the Gryphonnes saw a unique opportunity - the use of a mighty Deathstrike launcher without the ball-and-chain of the munitorum pencil-pushers. The mechanics of the company’s motor pool agreed to be discreet, listing the mystery vehicle as a recovered Salamander scout vehicle in order to balance the books without raising suspicion from the occasional munitorum inspection. The crew first assigned to this “Salamander” gave it it’s current monicker, Jane Doe, and it’s first bit of adornment: a risqué pin-up painting of “Jane” herself, a nameless beauty personifying the machine’s unknown origins.
Since those early days, the secret of “Jane” has been passed down from commander to commander, each agreeing that the benefits of an unfettered deathstrike launcher far outweigh the potential consequences of the munitorum discovering their deception. Though the crews assigned to her sometimes speak of 'quirks' in the machine spirit’s behaviour that allude to a dark past… “Jane" seems to take a sadistic delight in targeting humans, and has been known on at least one occasion to attempt it’s own firing solution against friendly forces rather than xenos aggressors, only narrowly avoided by the physical locks preventing it’s use without express authorization from the crew commander. Tech priests often characterize Deathstrike machine spirits as being “precocious”, but “Jane” has outright rejected any sort of interfacing, even going so far as to burn out the data spike of one particularly tenacious adept.
Of course, this sinister behaviour only sparks the imagination of the men of the Lone Gryphonnes, and the many theories proposed over the years of “Jane’s” true origins provide good fodder for ghost stories told around a campfire or foxhole.
2015/05/04 17:17:20
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
so here is a idea for the Basilisk, tried to explain its origins
crew is a real mix!
Baslisk Artillary (Number 99,652/Beta/UltimusForge)
“Third time’s the charm”
A rare pattern of artillery STC found 500 years before, its triple barrel rapid fire lighter shells where highly capable of hitting moving targets in the hands of a skilled gunner. The pattern was discontinued due to logistic issues of supplying ammunition after a production run of only 79 years and as such very few guns now exist, and spares have had to be custom made or salvaged but has become harder in recent years.
The gun is a valued asset and now almost always has a veteran squad ensuring its protection even on seemingly peaceful planets.
The crew is a close knit group and almost a family of a kind, loyal to each other in a world that will not hesitate to kill them at a moment’s notice.
Gun Aimer
Titus “longshot” Romulus
The skilled master gunner of the crew his ability to hit moving and fixed targets is apparelled and yet to lose the Gunnery competitions with a total of 7 wins and 3 campaign medals for accuracy beyond the guns own sights and cogitators claim is possible.
Originally assigned as a gunner during the siege of Hive primus during a chaos rebellion in a nearby system he quickly proved himself a worth man of the 168th Vraks artillery corps during the month long bombardment of Saint Juliennes gate that cost 87% of the units men and guns. His unit was then rushed to the Armageddon campaign in suppressing Ork activity on the rise there and during the 3 year campaign very few survived the final season of fire, drought and the ravaged planet killing those who had survived the first battles.
Short, stocky and known for his terrible sense of humour he is one of the oldest on the crews and defacto “father” to many of the lost men, his advise often ranked among that of the Guardsman primer.
Gun SGT
Joseph Demming “Ding” as known by his men.
Born the illegitimate and unrecognised son of a ship’s captain and low ranking crew member in one of the many cargo bays he had a rough life, never fitting into both world aboard and a unhappy figure aboard ship.
On leaving to enlist on the PDF of a planet they docked at his father gave him a single gift, a Navel auto pistol chased in chrome with bronze and black detailing which he later had his mothers name engraved on the slide “Jane”. He joined the 225th Achilles Brigade and due to high intelligence was assigned as a loader and trainee under one of the skilled gunners.
His first taste of real combat was during support operations for a Black Templers Crusade to drive a blight of mutants from the polluted and contaminated hives across a dozen planets long suspected to hide blasphemous cults and darker xeno manipulations.
His joining of the inquisitors extended retinue was when a mutant pack ambushed his crew as he went to go for a leak in the support trench, the sole survivor he was found lying wounded on the gun, drained energy cells and shell casings about, a few dozen dead mutants lay in the gun pit the last writhing moans ended by SGT Gorgi’s chain sword.
A tall man, once handsome but scarred from the ambush, his gait has a slight limp to his right, his pistol securely on his hip and bearer of a single Templar bolter shell marking out his bravery with a intense hatred for mutants and unwilling to work with rattling’s or other abhumans.
Loader
Gregor “Leaf Viper”
The typical build of his planet, a mountain of muscle the equal of any of his peers and survivor of one of the deadliest planets known, twice.
Sent into the jungles of Armageddon to hunt the Orks and ferals hiding there with 10,000 of his comrades they waged a 2 year long guerrilla war, supplies ran low and they ate anything including the Orks they killed, and some even their own men to survive. 92 left the jungles alive but such was their lot, many regarded them as little more than Orks so they joined the Inquisitors’ regiment on the rumour the Commissars intended to kill them quietly with poisons in the water back at base.
An expert a camouflage and concealment, his name a rare snake with a deadly bite that is master of hiding in the leaves and undergrowth. A heated rival to Long Lance in the Gyms or anytime heavy lifting is to be done and able to cook and eat almost any meat.
He carries a Combat knife of unknown age once that belonged to his father whilst he served an Inquisitor now long dead, its blade inscribed with multiple runes and wards to the bane of chaos and any tainted by the dark powers.
Loader
Ivan Doe
The son of a trader of middling rank and wealth but far better off than the cities workers in the tank factories fed by nearby mining worlds rich in high quality metals for armour and gun barrels. His family was accused of heresy by a jealous rival wronged long before he was forced to flee as most of his family; staff and properties were rounded up, executed and seized. Hiding in a long forgotten imperial shrine somehow he was missed and by he claims the Emperors blessing found a lowly job aboard a freighter leaving for the Galactic east with a consignment of Tanks, turrets and spares for the frontlines.
It was not long before his safe haven was broken though, by some chance he was identified as wanted by a random gene trace during an inspection. Forced to flee the ship with nothing but the clothes on his back his natural cunning let his escape aboard a servitor ran cargo shuttle to the surface he volunteered to join a Guard force from Drizar 7 as a conscript and lackey to a corrupt LT in exchange for things which haunt him to this day and never speaks of.
His joining of the Inquisitors’ band was when he snuck into his HQ during a campaign and risking immediate death asked to join, deciding to side on the bravardo and skill it took to ask he accepted after firing his guards, literally with a bolt to the head.
A cunning a reserved character he hides among the lowly ranks of a loader always with one eye open, and a escape route planned lest his enemies return a third time. Bearing nothing of immediate distinction he is a small but strong man, hard working and loyal to his crew.
Driver
Amos “Anton” tong
Born on the Planet of Dracon from a early age was a fast learner but also fell on the wrong side of the law a few too many times for “borrowing” several flitters from local traders he decided that it was best he left the area before the arbretes caught up with him.
One of a somewhat odd personality, behind the controls as fearless as any veteran but outside the armoured hull a jittery and panicked individual but whose charm seems to have gained him a reputation among the women of the regiment. An enigma no one has solved.
He was originally a driver in the 21st Aurellian armoured corps shipped out to a join a raiding force aimed at punishing a group of newly found human colonies resisting the Emperors light in service to some false god. His skill was quickly realised and was soon dedicated transport to the Captain of the 5th mechanized Company.
His joining of the crew came when during the campaign on the 5th planet assaulting a small but well fortified city he rammed his Chimera into a group moving into to kill one of the inquisitors most trusted advisers wrecking it in the process. Taking up the offer on the spot, partly to avoid any questions on why his APC was now wrecked from the regiment’s brutal commissar.
A small man, of high endurance and agile with a affinity with any machine in the arsenal he is the youngest on the crew and several times saved from the wrath of a wronged woman’s partner by the bulk of Gregor and the gleaming steel blade strapped to his leg.
Sgt. Vanden - OOC Hey, that was your doing. I didn't choose to fly in the "Dongerprise'.
"May the odds be ever in your favour"
Hybrid Son Of Oxayotl wrote:
I have no clue how Dakka's moderation work. I expect it involves throwing a lot of d100 and looking at many random tables.
FudgeDumper - It could be that you are just so uncomfortable with the idea of your chapters primarch having his way with a docile tyranid spore cyst, that you must deny they have any feelings at all.
2015/05/05 00:39:35
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Sg. Drew was once a conscript in the Cadian 210th, drawn into the military when an Alpha Legion insurgency ravaged Drygon II. The planets people were split into two, The Loyal and the The Seeing Eye. Drew was one of 200 conscripts sent into the Hive city, Pologus, to reclaim the Manufactorum. When they arrived, they were ambushed by followers of Tzeentch, Drew was lucky...knocked unconscious by falling rubble at the outbreak of the attack. When he awoke...the scattered bodies of his own conscript platoon lay motionless in a large pool of gore around him: an image now ingraved into his mind. Suddenly a voice broke out through the rubble, that of a socerrer. "The lapdogs of the carrion Emperor are all too easy to kill..." He whispered in dark tones. Drew silently removed the rubble from him, and snapped the bayonet off of his now destroyed Lasgun, on the floor above the sorcerer, he now had the advantage. Leaping from the ledge, he fell and plunged the sharp blade into the revealed head of the heretic...
Three days later he returned to HQ, recalling his tale to those who would listen, but the Commisars cared not for him, he was corrupt to them after all. Just before Drew was about to be executed, an Inquisitor dressed in holy gold armour intervened and took him away. Drew now vows to give his life to the service of the Lone Gryphonnes, and he's never lost sight of his old, rusted bayonet, "Releaser".
I could also make fluff for the whole squad if you wanted me to.
I will have to give him his trusty bayonet - do you imagine it to be a combat knife bayonet or one of the long-ish bayonets like from WW1?
Also, is the Tzeentch Sorceror a human or an astartes?
If you wish to write more fluff for the squad it would be appreciated but do it only if you want to.
No-one remains now of the original members of the 1st Rough Riders from Gryphonne II, the casualty rate amongst rough riders being understandibly even higher than that of more conventional squads. However the five machines of 1st squadron are the same five quad bikes originally assigned to the unit by the Inquisitor when the Gryphonnes were first brought to the fortress.Now heavily modified and extensively re-engineered and repaired these machines are the true veterains of the unit.
Any Wrecked bikes of the 1st rough riders are painstakingly salvaged and restored with almost religious dedication by the surviving members after each battle. Often using scavanged parts and odd detritus from the battlefield or around the fortress to make do and mend. As a result they have earned the moniker "the Magpies" due to their constant pinching of shiny things for their bikes. Belt buckles, bullets, coinage and dog-tags are commonly incorporated into the welded joints and even a severed bionic arm has been used in the Re-fabrication of the handlebars of one of the bikes.
As may be inferred by some of these objects, what may have begun with simple mechanical neccessity in the early days of the units founding has developed into something more meaningful. Many of the repairs and additions to the bikes are evidently of a more personal nature such as charms or memorials of previous bikers now long forgotten by anyone now currenty riding. In their darker moods bikers of the 1st Rough Riders can be seen tinkering, etching and polishing personal totems to add to their own bikes knowing full well these small legacies will likely last much longer than their own doubtless short careers.
Currently The longest serving member and therefore defacto sergeant of the magpies is a huge-built mustachioed skin head by the name of Crowe. His riding goggles are never off his head and a pair of twin belts criss-cross on his waist. On one belt he wares a weighty bolt pistol which he wields with the dexterity of a fencing foil often at breakneck speeds. On the other belt he carries his favourite adjustable wrench "the nut-cracker" with which he is perpetually tinkering on one or other of the squads bikes. He carries and indeed requires no other weapons than these.
Sergeant Crowe's quad bike is the largest and by far the most heavily modified of the five original machines maintained by the squad. Although many replacements and repairs have been made since it is clear that this machine was once painted mars red and it even prominently displays a Mechanicum sigil. It is unknown if the machine was ever really in the hands of the Mechanicum or one of its adherents but what is clear is that accepting battle damage it rarely breaks down and it starts first time, every time. Sergeant Crowe calls this bike "the Red Bull"
Although the squad had been called the magpies long before Crowe was their sergeant his corvid name and charismatic personality have gone a long way to cementing the title and legacy of one of the more transitory units of the fortress deffence force.
Lots of lovely custom work to do with this one. The 'Magpies', I shall give them Black and white highlights/ decals to further earn that name.
Considering these bikes will have many symbols/ sigils to represent the riders that came before, do you have any personal symbol that represents you for me to put on one of them? I think it would be a nice touch.
Jambles wrote: These are all great. Here's my take on the Deathstrike Launcher... let me know what you think!
Spoiler:
‘Jane Doe’, Deathstrike Missile Launcher
The departmento munitorum is a stingy, bureaucratic beast at the best of times; and where Deathstrike Launchers are concerned, this is doubly true. Being such a rare and indiscriminate weapon, Deathstrikes are strictly tracked, usually being “leased” to guard companies rather than permanently assigned like more common vehicles. Every move, repair, or refit is meticulously documented, and actually firing the weapon requires such a mound of paperwork that many commanders simply forgo their use entirely, letting them sit in the motor pool gathering dust.
So it was a great surprise to the Gryphonnes to find a working Deathstrike amidst the wreckage of a rebel base of operations on Gryphonne 5 during the Cain Insurrection. It’s history was a mystery: either the rebels or another, previous owner had long ago removed any stamps of manufacture or serial numbers, though there was nothing to indicate they had ever been there in the first place. It’s hull bore none of the usual campaign markings or personalizations so common to the vehicles of the Imperial Guard, or indeed any indication of wear and tear, as fresh as if it had just rolled off the assembly line. Even it’s payload was bereft of any identification.
Faced with such an enigma, the commander of the Gryphonnes saw a unique opportunity - the use of a mighty Deathstrike launcher without the ball-and-chain of the munitorum pencil-pushers. The mechanics of the company’s motor pool agreed to be discreet, listing the mystery vehicle as a recovered Salamander scout vehicle in order to balance the books without raising suspicion from the occasional munitorum inspection. The crew first assigned to this “Salamander” gave it it’s current monicker, Jane Doe, and it’s first bit of adornment: a risqué pin-up painting of “Jane” herself, a nameless beauty personifying the machine’s unknown origins.
Since those early days, the secret of “Jane” has been passed down from commander to commander, each agreeing that the benefits of an unfettered deathstrike launcher far outweigh the potential consequences of the munitorum discovering their deception. Though the crews assigned to her sometimes speak of 'quirks' in the machine spirit’s behaviour that allude to a dark past… “Jane" seems to take a sadistic delight in targeting humans, and has been known on at least one occasion to attempt it’s own firing solution against friendly forces rather than xenos aggressors, only narrowly avoided by the physical locks preventing it’s use without express authorization from the crew commander. Tech priests often characterize Deathstrike machine spirits as being “precocious”, but “Jane” has outright rejected any sort of interfacing, even going so far as to burn out the data spike of one particularly tenacious adept.
Of course, this sinister behaviour only sparks the imagination of the men of the Lone Gryphonnes, and the many theories proposed over the years of “Jane’s” true origins provide good fodder for ghost stories told around a campfire or foxhole.
Best fluff I've ever read pertaining to a Deathstrike Missile Launcher and it suits mine perfectly!
A Deathstrike that displays, "sadistic delight in targeting humans", I love it.
This painting of 'Jane' the woman. How do you imagine her? Black-haired? Etc.
Also would Jane Doe's crew paint anything on the missile? Inscription, nose-art, etc. or would they leave it factory fresh?
jhe90 wrote: so here is a idea for the Basilisk, tried to explain its origins
Spoiler:
crew is a real mix!
Baslisk Artillary (Number 99,652/Beta/UltimusForge)
“Third time’s the charm”
A rare pattern of artillery STC found 500 years before, its triple barrel rapid fire lighter shells where highly capable of hitting moving targets in the hands of a skilled gunner. The pattern was discontinued due to logistic issues of supplying ammunition after a production run of only 79 years and as such very few guns now exist, and spares have had to be custom made or salvaged but has become harder in recent years.
The gun is a valued asset and now almost always has a veteran squad ensuring its protection even on seemingly peaceful planets.
The crew is a close knit group and almost a family of a kind, loyal to each other in a world that will not hesitate to kill them at a moment’s notice.
Gun Aimer
Titus “longshot” Romulus
The skilled master gunner of the crew his ability to hit moving and fixed targets is apparelled and yet to lose the Gunnery competitions with a total of 7 wins and 3 campaign medals for accuracy beyond the guns own sights and cogitators claim is possible.
Originally assigned as a gunner during the siege of Hive primus during a chaos rebellion in a nearby system he quickly proved himself a worth man of the 168th Vraks artillery corps during the month long bombardment of Saint Juliennes gate that cost 87% of the units men and guns. His unit was then rushed to the Armageddon campaign in suppressing Ork activity on the rise there and during the 3 year campaign very few survived the final season of fire, drought and the ravaged planet killing those who had survived the first battles.
Short, stocky and known for his terrible sense of humour he is one of the oldest on the crews and defacto “father” to many of the lost men, his advise often ranked among that of the Guardsman primer.
Gun SGT
Joseph Demming “Ding” as known by his men.
Born the illegitimate and unrecognised son of a ship’s captain and low ranking crew member in one of the many cargo bays he had a rough life, never fitting into both world aboard and a unhappy figure aboard ship.
On leaving to enlist on the PDF of a planet they docked at his father gave him a single gift, a Navel auto pistol chased in chrome with bronze and black detailing which he later had his mothers name engraved on the slide “Jane”. He joined the 225th Achilles Brigade and due to high intelligence was assigned as a loader and trainee under one of the skilled gunners.
His first taste of real combat was during support operations for a Black Templers Crusade to drive a blight of mutants from the polluted and contaminated hives across a dozen planets long suspected to hide blasphemous cults and darker xeno manipulations.
His joining of the inquisitors extended retinue was when a mutant pack ambushed his crew as he went to go for a leak in the support trench, the sole survivor he was found lying wounded on the gun, drained energy cells and shell casings about, a few dozen dead mutants lay in the gun pit the last writhing moans ended by SGT Gorgi’s chain sword.
A tall man, once handsome but scarred from the ambush, his gait has a slight limp to his right, his pistol securely on his hip and bearer of a single Templar bolter shell marking out his bravery with a intense hatred for mutants and unwilling to work with rattling’s or other abhumans.
Loader
Gregor “Leaf Viper”
The typical build of his planet, a mountain of muscle the equal of any of his peers and survivor of one of the deadliest planets known, twice.
Sent into the jungles of Armageddon to hunt the Orks and ferals hiding there with 10,000 of his comrades they waged a 2 year long guerrilla war, supplies ran low and they ate anything including the Orks they killed, and some even their own men to survive. 92 left the jungles alive but such was their lot, many regarded them as little more than Orks so they joined the Inquisitors’ regiment on the rumour the Commissars intended to kill them quietly with poisons in the water back at base.
An expert a camouflage and concealment, his name a rare snake with a deadly bite that is master of hiding in the leaves and undergrowth. A heated rival to Long Lance in the Gyms or anytime heavy lifting is to be done and able to cook and eat almost any meat.
He carries a Combat knife of unknown age once that belonged to his father whilst he served an Inquisitor now long dead, its blade inscribed with multiple runes and wards to the bane of chaos and any tainted by the dark powers.
Loader
Ivan Doe
The son of a trader of middling rank and wealth but far better off than the cities workers in the tank factories fed by nearby mining worlds rich in high quality metals for armour and gun barrels. His family was accused of heresy by a jealous rival wronged long before he was forced to flee as most of his family; staff and properties were rounded up, executed and seized. Hiding in a long forgotten imperial shrine somehow he was missed and by he claims the Emperors blessing found a lowly job aboard a freighter leaving for the Galactic east with a consignment of Tanks, turrets and spares for the frontlines.
It was not long before his safe haven was broken though, by some chance he was identified as wanted by a random gene trace during an inspection. Forced to flee the ship with nothing but the clothes on his back his natural cunning let his escape aboard a servitor ran cargo shuttle to the surface he volunteered to join a Guard force from Drizar 7 as a conscript and lackey to a corrupt LT in exchange for things which haunt him to this day and never speaks of.
His joining of the Inquisitors’ band was when he snuck into his HQ during a campaign and risking immediate death asked to join, deciding to side on the bravardo and skill it took to ask he accepted after firing his guards, literally with a bolt to the head.
A cunning a reserved character he hides among the lowly ranks of a loader always with one eye open, and a escape route planned lest his enemies return a third time. Bearing nothing of immediate distinction he is a small but strong man, hard working and loyal to his crew.
Driver
Amos “Anton” tong
Born on the Planet of Dracon from a early age was a fast learner but also fell on the wrong side of the law a few too many times for “borrowing” several flitters from local traders he decided that it was best he left the area before the arbretes caught up with him.
One of a somewhat odd personality, behind the controls as fearless as any veteran but outside the armoured hull a jittery and panicked individual but whose charm seems to have gained him a reputation among the women of the regiment. An enigma no one has solved.
He was originally a driver in the 21st Aurellian armoured corps shipped out to a join a raiding force aimed at punishing a group of newly found human colonies resisting the Emperors light in service to some false god. His skill was quickly realised and was soon dedicated transport to the Captain of the 5th mechanized Company.
His joining of the crew came when during the campaign on the 5th planet assaulting a small but well fortified city he rammed his Chimera into a group moving into to kill one of the inquisitors most trusted advisers wrecking it in the process. Taking up the offer on the spot, partly to avoid any questions on why his APC was now wrecked from the regiment’s brutal commissar.
A small man, of high endurance and agile with a affinity with any machine in the arsenal he is the youngest on the crew and several times saved from the wrath of a wronged woman’s partner by the bulk of Gregor and the gleaming steel blade strapped to his leg.
Such a diverse and storied crew with loads of modelling opportunities. Thank you.
It's really fitting that Gunnery Sgt Joseph's pistol is named 'Jane', brilliant connection I would have never thought of.
Gunnery Sgt of the Basilisk with a pistol named 'Jane' and the only other heavy support piece in the regiment, the Deathstrike, also named 'Jane'.
That would really get Soldier's tongues wagging.
This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2015/05/05 01:09:02
In my head I pictured a 40s style pinup - like the one on the side of the Memphis belle, if youve ever seen that movie. Dunno if that's feasible for painting but I'm sure you can figure out something
Definitely some decorations on the missile, probably a name like we used to give to nukes (fat man and such)
2015/05/05 19:03:48
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Jambles wrote: In my head I pictured a 40s style pinup - like the one on the side of the Memphis belle, if youve ever seen that movie. Dunno if that's feasible for painting but I'm sure you can figure out something
Definitely some decorations on the missile, probably a name like we used to give to nukes (fat man and such)
Ah yes, I just googled it. I do believe I could do something like that.
Regarding the name for the missile - any ideas that would suit 'Jane Doe'?
Jambles wrote: In my head I pictured a 40s style pinup - like the one on the side of the Memphis belle, if youve ever seen that movie. Dunno if that's feasible for painting but I'm sure you can figure out something
Definitely some decorations on the missile, probably a name like we used to give to nukes (fat man and such)
Ah yes, I just googled it. I do believe I could do something like that.
Regarding the name for the missile - any ideas that would suit 'Jane Doe'?
Thanks
are there four missiles? Matthew, Mark, Luke and John Doe
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2015/05/05 22:30:15
Proud supporter of
It is human nature to seek culpability in a time of tragedy. It is a sign of strength to cry out against fate, rather than to bow one's head and succumb.
-Gabriel Angelos
2015/05/05 22:35:19
Subject: Insert YOURSELF into my Fortress Defence Force!
Jambles wrote: In my head I pictured a 40s style pinup - like the one on the side of the Memphis belle, if youve ever seen that movie. Dunno if that's feasible for painting but I'm sure you can figure out something
Definitely some decorations on the missile, probably a name like we used to give to nukes (fat man and such)
Ah yes, I just googled it. I do believe I could do something like that.
Regarding the name for the missile - any ideas that would suit 'Jane Doe'?
Thanks
are there four missiles? Matthew, Mark, Luke and John Doe
Thanks Otto. I used to have a little black motorcycle with red Draconis Combine (battletech) dragons on either side of the petrol tank. But then some dirty wee joy rider stole it and burned it out!
Bring it back from the dead as a 40k quad by all means!
But if you wanted to keep it a little more strictly 40k I do have a big Raven Guard SM army (unsurprisingly) so a wee raven symbol (which would probably be easier to come by) would do just fine. Thanks for the offer of immortalisation in your collection.
I tried not to go overboard with the squad leaving it at a skeleton description so as to allow you freedom to interpret the theme to your own ideas. I'd say less is more where the conversion of vehicles is concerned though. So I'm sure most of this is best left in the fluff with a token gesture on the miniatures to represent a more colourful story.
I imagine the "Red Bull" to be some sort of big chopper quad with big gooseneck riser handlebars but it'll probably in the end just come down to the miniatures you're using what will work and what won't.
I could give you more for the rest of the squad but I feel like they're all just faceless transients and its the bikes that are the real characters.
This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2015/05/07 00:14:47
theCrowe wrote: Thanks Otto. I used to have a little black motorcycle with red Draconis Combine (battletech) dragons on either side of the petrol tank. But then some dirty wee joy rider stole it and burned it out!
Bring it back from the dead as a 40k quad by all means!
But if you wanted to keep it a little more strictly 40k I do have a big Raven Guard SM army (unsurprisingly) so a wee raven symbol (which would probably be easier to come by) would do just fine. Thanks for the offer of immortalisation in your collection.
I tried not to go overboard with the squad leaving it at a skeleton description so as to allow you freedom to interpret the theme to your own ideas. I'd say less is more where the conversion of vehicles is concerned though. So I'm sure most of this is best left in the fluff with a token gesture on the miniatures to represent a more colourful story.
I imagine the "Red Bull" to be some sort of big chopper quad with big gooseneck riser handlebars but it'll probably in the end just come down to the miniatures you're using what will work and what won't.
I could give you more for the rest of the squad but I feel like they're all just faceless transients and its the bikes that are the real characters.
I do believe I can do something like this. (It won't be as clean because I'm not a great painter but I'll work on it )
I do agree with the 'less is more' philosophy, otherwise vehicles might end up looking orky (went too far with a conversion once, so I know what you mean). I will add some detailing/ modelling to represent the customization these bikes have experienced but I'll let the fluff carry the idea further.
Platoon commander Lieutenant Alice-Rosa Veldt Is currently in command of the Inquisitor's fortress defence force. Young even for a platoon commander her millitary career began very early. When her mother died Alice was a child of 6 years and care of the girl fell to her father General Veldt who was then embarking on the Lorn V Campain.
She therefore grew up on a millitary base where, being the general's daughter she was spoiled by the staff and mostly humoured despite her propensity for mischief. Her efforts to win her father's attention away from his busy millitary duties even went so far as the liberation of a xenos specimine from the reserch lab adjoining the base. Her pet ripper Mr Snappy, although feral and no longer controlled by a hive mind still managed to devour a companies store of rations and uniforms before her secret was discovered and the beast exterminated. At times like these the General was famous for saying "I can attend to Alice or I can run this campaign. I cannot do both!"
Once during a comand level meeting of her father's top brass she boldly and defiantly burst in on the assembled officer's with no more intention than that of causing trouble. Her father, desperate to salvage the briefing allowed her to stay on his lap while he outlined the platoon mission briefs. Soon the girl demanded to be allowed to attend all such meetings and given a seat at the table soon developed a natural skill for battle tactics although the larger stratiegic vagueries of the overall campaign were of little to no interest to her. The General was naturally keen to encourage and develop his daughter's millitary interests but when word got out to his Platoon commanders that their mission briefings were being compiled by a 12 year old girl there was considerable backlash and resistance to his continued command of the campaign.
The imperial beurocracy being what it is it wasn't until 5 years later that his court martial was held. By this time Alice had been enrolled in the finest Cadian Millitary accademy then in her 3rd year of studies. A combination of her higher than average test scores and a technicality regarding the use of civillian advisors allowed the General to escape any formal reprimand but he none the less lost any support and position he once held and subsequently never commanded such a large campaign again.
During her studies Alice enjoyed the high society of other wealthy young nobles of Cadian miltary society where she thrived in the limelight of society events and made a name for herself as one of the accademy's most notable rising stars. She soon caught the attention of Cadian Castellan Jakren Stein who, when she graduated with honours offered her a position as platoon commander in his own hand picked task force.
However, also fighting with this task force was Cadia's most beloved nobel son Sergeant Lukas Bastonne. Alice's propensity for mischief had not entirely left the girl and she soon set herself on the arm of the prestigious sergeant at numerous society events, award ceremonies and public engagements. So much so that the Cadian media and scandal vids began to talk about the pair. The heavy PR surrounding Cadia's golden boy did all they could to quell the rhumours surrounding the toast of the Imperium and the wild daughter of a disgraced general but Alice herself thrived on the attention and did nothing to allay any speculation. Whether there was any truth to the rhumours was immeterial as soon a higher authority deemed it necessary to have Alice transfered as far away from Cadian society and from Sergeant Bastonne as possible.
She arrived in the Inquisitor's employ embittered and resentful but with glowing reccommendations from a number of high ranking Cadian officials. Gone was the frivolous party girl of Cadian high society replaced by an angry and heartless woman. So strict and uncompromising was her approach to command that the Inquisitor has found that moving the most insubordinate troublemakers into positions on her command squad will often work miracles, transforming them into model soldiers through Veldt's unique combination of charm and rigourous discipline.
Lieutenant Veldt's command style could perhaps best be described as terse. She does not discuss the plan, invite ideas or ask for oppinions. Each member of her squad is equipped with a grenade launcher to reduce the need for elaborate orders during battle. She simply states the required ammunition and target expecting total compliance and nothing beyond a simple "yes M'am." from her subordinates.
Within the jargon of the Gryphonnes this simple phrase has become synonymous with the squad itself and in some cases with grenade launchers specifically.
For example a sergeant might say to a particularly insubordinate private. "Private, you better shape up or you'll find yourself up to your neck trouble quicker than you can say "yes Ma'am". "
"Son, you're booking yourself a one way ticket on the "yes M'am" expess."
"what was that private? Did I hear you say "yes Ma'am"? No, I didn't think so."
Or when refering to a grenade launcher one might say " Kowalski, fill that fox hole full of "Yes Ma'am"
Veldt's own personal side arm is a finely crafted laspistol, built slim and light weight as might befit a noble woman or assassin. It was ordered and built eapecially for her and presented to her father on the event of her birth. So attatched is she to the weapon that it rarely leaves her hand let alone her side. It is long bareled like the las-weapons of older times but perfectly weighted and rests in the palm with effortless ease. She can field strip and clean the elaborate vintage style pistol blindfolded and often does just that when in a particularly foul mood and wishong not to be spoken to.
Veldt in her rare more voiciferous outbursts refers to her laspistol as "Hell's Fury" and contrary to its size it packs quite a punch. Armed only with Hell's Fury Veldt has been known to fell orks in her time. Observers joked that the greenskins died with a gutteral "yes Ma'am"
This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2015/05/16 21:35:22
Platoon commander Lieutenant Alice-Rosa Veldt Is currently in command of the Inquisitor's fortress defence force. Young even for a platoon commander her millitary career began very early. When her mother died Alice was a child of 6 years and care of the girl fell to her father General Veldt who was then embarking on the Lorn V Campain.
She therefore grew up on a millitary base where, being the general's daughter she was spoiled by the staff and mostly humoured despite her propensity for mischief. Her efforts to win her father's attention away from his busy millitary duties even went so far as the liberation of a xenos specimine from the reserch lab adjoining the base. Her pet ripper Mr Snappy, although feral and no longer controlled by a hive mind still managed to devour a companies store of rations and uniforms before her secret was discovered and the beast exterminated. At times like these the General was famous for saying "I can attend to Alice or I can run this campaign. I cannot do both!"
Once during a comand level meeting of her father's top brass she boldly and defiantly burst in on the assembled officer's with no more intention than that of causing trouble. Her father, desperate to salvage the briefing allowed her to stay on his lap while he outlined the platoon mission briefs. Soon the girl demanded to be allowed to attend all such meetings and given a seat at the table soon developed a natural skill for battle tactics although the larger stratiegic vagueries of the overall campaign were of little to no interest to her. The General was naturally keen to encourage and develop his daughter's millitary interests but when word got out to his Platoon commanders that their mission briefings were being compiled by a 12 year old girl there was considerable backlash and resistance to his continued command of the campaign.
The imperial beurocracy being what it is it wasn't until 5 years later that his court martial was held. By this time Alice had been enrolled in the finest Cadian Millitary accademy then in her 3rd year of studies. A combination of her higher than average test scores and a technicality regarding the use of civillian advisors allowed the General to escape any formal reprimand but he none the less lost any support and position he once held and subsequently never commanded such a large campaign again.
During her studies Alice enjoyed the high society of other wealthy young nobles of Cadian miltary society where she thrived in the limelight of society events and made a name for herself as one of the accademy's most notable rising stars. She soon caught the attention of Cadian Castellan Jakren Stein who, when she graduated with honours offered her a position as platoon commander in his own hand picked task force.
However, also fighting with this task force was Cadia's most beloved nobel son Sergeant Lukas Bastonne. Alice's propensity for mischief had not entirely left the girl and she soon set herself on the arm of the prestigious sergeant at numerous society events, award ceremonies and public engagements. So much so that the Cadian media and scandal vids began to talk about the pair. The heavy PR surrounding Cadia's golden boy did all they could to quell the rhumours surrounding the toast of the Imperium and the wild daughter of a disgraced general but Alice herself thrived on the attention and did nothing to allay any speculation. Whether there was any truth to the rhumours was immeterial as soon a higher authority deemed it necessary to have Alice transfered as far away from Cadian society and from Sergeant Bastonne as possible.
She arrived in the Inquisitor's employ embittered and resentful but with glowing reccommendations from a number of high ranking Cadian officials. Gone was the frivolous party girl of Cadian high society replaced by an angry and heartless woman. So strict and uncompromising was her approach to command that the Inquisitor has found that moving the most insubordinate troublemakers into positions on her command squad will often work miracles, transforming them into model soldiers through Veldt's unique combination of charm and rigourous discipline.
Lieutenant Veldt's command style could perhaps best be described as terse. She does not discuss the plan, invite ideas or ask for oppinions. Each member of her squad is equipped with a grenade launcher to reduce the need for elaborate orders during battle. She simply states the required ammunition and target expecting total compliance and nothing beyond a simple "yes M'am." from her subordinates.
Within the jargon of the Gryphonnes this simple phrase has become synonymous with the squad itself and in some cases with grenade launchers specifically.
For example a sergeant might say to a particularly insubordinate private. "Private, you better shape up or you'll find yourself up to your neck trouble quicker than you can say "yes Ma'am". "
"Son, you're booking yourself a one way ticket on the "yes M'am" expess."
"what was that private? Did I hear you say "yes Ma'am"? No, I didn't think so."
Or when refering to a grenade launcher one might say " Kowalski, fill that fox hole full of "Yes Ma'am"
Veldt's own personal side arm is a finely crafted laspistol, built slim and light weight as might befit a noble woman or assassin. It was ordered and built eapecially for her and presented to her father on the event of her birth. So attatched is she to the weapon that it rarely leaves her hand let alone her side. It is long bareled like the las-weapons of older times but perfectly weighted and rests in the palm with effortless ease. She can field strip and clean the elaborate vintage style pistol blindfolded and often does just that when in a particularly foul mood and wishong not to be spoken to.
Veldt in her rare more voiciferous outbursts refers to her laspistol as "Hell's Fury" and contrary to its size it packs quite a punch. Armed only with Hell's Fury Veldt has been known to fell orks in her time. Observers joked that the greenskins died with a gutteral "yes Ma'am"
Oh yes, that's just brilliant. That had me laughing, especially with the greenskin joke Thank you.
I just imagine her with a baton, so I'll probably model her with one.
For her hair I'm not sure, what do you imagine? Long or short? Also, what colour?
) I'm shy because whilst I adore reading the fluff and background, I'm not an experienced 
