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2011/09/03 22:01:47
Subject: Re:++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
Well, I got mine painted. Jacobus done been pimped.
Unfortunately, then I found out my camera battery was dead and my charger is about the spottiest thing this side of a dalmatian. So I was forced to use my cellphone, and the pictures have suffered because of that. I'll get better pics up at some point, but as far as judging goes, I think this is it.
Original is gigantic, so plenty of zoom is available in gallery view.
By my clock its 23.23 on the 3rd so hopefully this reaches you in time.
Having been playing rugby in the sun today (so tired!) and other RL stuff I have finally been able to take some photos but only with nasty desk top lighting tonight but it will have to do. I'll post a showcase thread tomorrow if I can get some good daylight pictures done but this will be my entry.
Anyhoo here's Luther - Priest of Him on Earth and wielder of the most holy fething big flamin' Eviscerator o' Doom!
Spoiler:
Luther laughed, for so long he had bemoaned his decision to retire from the guard to this desolate rock, now there was a call to arms he was shaking like a green cadet. After nearly 30 years, naye lucky years on the front line he had longed for peaceful solitude to contemplate the gifts of the God-Emperor and to minister his word to those that needed it.
When the Lord-General had disbanded the Urson 325th Headsmen he had wept tears of joy to be given to opportunity to settle Leninor IV. Seeking a quite life he had found himself amongst the miners in the Zaychev steppes about as far away from civilisation as it was possible to be.
He sat there cleaning his old service pistol and he wished he wasn’t so isolated now. The instant things begun the townspeople and the miners sought his council. Initially he thought that it was right and good that they had done this, who would be better placed than a priest of Him-on-Earth to guide the people in troubled times. But that was when it started, no one had missed the odd servitor that went missing in the tunnels but when miners started seeing walking corpses, the old temple filled.
Now they no longer came for just comforting words and prayer; no they now sought a leader to investigate "the cursed" as the scared townsfolk would call these happenings. With no imediate outside assistance the local magister had lead the delegation, “who better to lead than a veteran guard champion, a Headsman no less” he had said ignoring his own responsibility.
He slammed the charge pack home. Luther laughed again, in retrospect maybe he had put a little to much emphasis in his sermons about the need for the people to fight the good fight, the war stories had caught their imagination but now it was dragging him away from the peace he cherished.
He looked at the Urson made reliquary on the alter. It was six feet long and filled only with death.
He walked over, sighed and then opened it. The smell of blessed oil filled his nostrils, he chanted the ritual of activation and hefted the sword from its resting place. Even with his augmented arm it was difficult to lift it to eye level. He took in the sight of it. Seven years since he had last held it, it had lost none of its air of danger or lustre.
He touched the second covert on the hafts Aquila. There was a low hum, then the suspensor kicked-in and the sword immediately balanced in his hand, its weight dissipating.
A sweep of the blade about his head and then he held the sword to his face and whispered another prayer, then he thumbed the stud on the grip. The sword burst into life, an azure glow enveloped the blade and the teethed edge sped up until it dissolved out of sight.
He joined the gathered party. “Come Magister; let us see what these metal skeletons are all about”
Luther laughed to himself, he would know peace again soon enough but first the sword told him there must be death.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/03 22:26:27
How do you promote your Hobby? - Legoburner "I run some crappy wargaming website "
2011/09/03 22:52:19
Subject: Re:++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
So, yeah, I totally wish I had got invited to this PUBLICLY posted, private 'party'. (Edit: This was sarcasm for the unseasoned)
I don't really care that this has been up for awhile, all I can say is, to the guy on page 1 and his example of it being a party and have your own and nobody is mad? If you wanted to have a private miniature circle-jerk for you and your friends, you didn't need to post it on a public forum. That smacks of crying out for attention.
Yes, I felt the need to post this, out of boredom. RAWR
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/04 01:25:36
2011/09/04 01:31:14
Subject: Re:++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
IdentifyZero wrote:So, yeah, I totally wish I had got invited to this PUBLICLY posted, private 'party'. (Edit: This was sarcasm for the unseasoned)
I don't really care that this has been up for awhile, all I can say is, to the guy on page 1 and his example of it being a party and have your own and nobody is mad? If you wanted to have a private miniature circle-jerk for you and your friends, you didn't need to post it on a public forum. That smacks of crying out for attention.
Yes, I felt the need to post this, out of boredom. RAWR
This horse has previously been beaten bud, and although some people disagreed with the concept, there is nothing at all against the rules or wrong with what PDH and B are doing. They honestly meant no disrespect to anyone and have clarified their intent many times before now. Many of the guys in this contest are real life friends, or way back forum buds, some people still want to see what they come up with and are interested, private or not. Finally, there is an identical public contest taking place concurently to this one, and everyone is getting along nicely.
I understand your point of view on this, but throwing up a message as combative as that, this late in the game, will not do anything for anyone. I suggest you frequent the other contest if it is more to your taste, and help everyone stay in a bro-fist state of mind
IdentifyZero wrote:So, yeah, I totally wish I had got invited to this PUBLICLY posted, private 'party'. (Edit: This was sarcasm for the unseasoned)
I don't really care that this has been up for awhile, all I can say is, to the guy on page 1 and his example of it being a party and have your own and nobody is mad? If you wanted to have a private miniature circle-jerk for you and your friends, you didn't need to post it on a public forum. That smacks of crying out for attention.
Yes, I felt the need to post this, out of boredom. RAWR
This horse has previously been beaten bud, and although some people disagreed with the concept, there is nothing at all against the rules or wrong with what PDH and B are doing. They honestly meant no disrespect to anyone and have clarified their intent many times before now. Many of the guys in this contest are real life friends, or way back forum buds, some people still want to see what they come up with and are interested, private or not. Finally, there is an identical public contest taking place concurently to this one, and everyone is getting along nicely.
I understand your point of view on this, but throwing up a message as combative as that, this late in the game, will not do anything for anyone. I suggest you frequent the other contest if it is more to your taste, and help everyone stay in a bro-fist state of mind
I think you both went in the wrong thread, gents.
And, IdentifyZero, though I do agree with you : you are on the wrong thread. This one, you could've joined. So please refrain from spoiling a good thread with your misdirected hate. Thanks in advance.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/04 03:28:08
"Squat Hulk- in space no one knows you no longer exist." - Gitzbitah
"Now you're just being silly, everyone knows red paint tastes fasta." - monkeytroll
"Both servers are on different continents so space meteors or thermonuclear war will not be enough take out dakka hopefully." - legoburner
Please remember to tick the "Disable Voting" box, if the pics you are uploading do not deserve votes (ie. early WIP, blurry pics, batreps, ...) Thanks in advance.
2011/09/04 03:29:47
Subject: Re:++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
IdentifyZero wrote:So, yeah, I totally wish I had got invited to this PUBLICLY posted, private 'party'. (Edit: This was sarcasm for the unseasoned)
I don't really care that this has been up for awhile, all I can say is, to the guy on page 1 and his example of it being a party and have your own and nobody is mad? If you wanted to have a private miniature circle-jerk for you and your friends, you didn't need to post it on a public forum. That smacks of crying out for attention.
Yes, I felt the need to post this, out of boredom. RAWR
This horse has previously been beaten bud, and although some people disagreed with the concept, there is nothing at all against the rules or wrong with what PDH and B are doing. They honestly meant no disrespect to anyone and have clarified their intent many times before now. Many of the guys in this contest are real life friends, or way back forum buds, some people still want to see what they come up with and are interested, private or not. Finally, there is an identical public contest taking place concurently to this one, and everyone is getting along nicely.
I understand your point of view on this, but throwing up a message as combative as that, this late in the game, will not do anything for anyone. I suggest you frequent the other contest if it is more to your taste, and help everyone stay in a bro-fist state of mind
Erm... I think Zero probably meant to put this on the OTHER contest's forum, not on this particular, public playground... but yes. Thanks, MajorTom.
But... back to the action... this game is out of time, yes?? From the previous page, in order of appearance -
@Tipios -I really like the helmet! The sharp curves of the armor together with the helmet are almost Vampire-Lord in nature... Also awesome on the lava-base, can we can a close-up of it? It looks to be pretty smoothly blended.
@Matt.Kingsley- Awesome! Did you sculpt that fire-wave in front of him?? Good stuff, and good try on the OSL as well!
@Flying Poo - Great colorscheme on the guy. Could we get a close-up side-shot of whatever fin-like object is sticking out of his back?
@Imperial Monkey - Great rust effect and overall conversion- if I'd known how versatile that Necro was... I might have switched my choice... I like the face-mask as well... is it converted? Or part of some other figure?
@Panic - Solid. The Joker colors are a great scheme for that figure.
@Zefig - I didn't know he was going to have a banner with him, but the final project looks pretty damn sweet! I'll definitely have to take a closer look in your gallery for the details.
@notprop - Again, another fantastic conversion of the Necromancer. I obviously wrote that one off too quickly. The hair and face are definitely a highlight for me, as is the effect on the blade.
Great work so far, and looking forward to more of this side's submissions!
-Remi
2011/09/04 03:45:52
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
LOL I guess we both posted in the wrong pimp my wizard thread lol... my statements still apply though keep the haterade to a minimum, and, hopefully at least in the right location lol.
MajorTom11 wrote:LOL I guess we both posted in the wrong pimp my wizard thread lol... my statements still apply though keep the haterade to a minimum, and, hopefully at least in the right location lol.
Bring on the pimp wizards!
Exactly right on both points, but for the first, it was the thought and overall peacekeeping that counts. I'm definitely pleased (and genuinely awed) with the end products on this thread... so many great works with the humanoid chaos sorcerer and necromancer... and the few who took on the Tzeench sorcerer/DE sorceress.
-Remi
2011/09/04 03:56:19
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
HF Izanagi wrote:@Flying Poo - Great colorscheme on the guy. Could we get a close-up side-shot of whatever fin-like object is sticking out of his back?
Thanks man.
Ask and you shall receive.
It's half of the winged Space Marine banner top.
this type.
FP.
"Whilst we stand, we fight. Whilst we fight, we prevail. Nothing shall stay our wrath" Guilliman and the Ultramarines are like Manchester United, everyone hates them because they are so awesome!
2011/09/04 06:35:28
Subject: Re:++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - It's the Final CountDown !!!!!++
yeah,
My Friends the is up!
We have 12 entries that made the dead line. woot!
and 15 who ran out of time...
They have all been rounded up into this mega post!
I will be PM'ing five Dakkanauts of Distinction and requesting that they be Judges and vote on their favourites.
each Judge will have 20 points that they can issue how they please on entries.
Judges can issue the points for any reason they want i.e. for the conversion work or for the finished painted model.
Judges can give all their points to one entry or split them as they choose.
I'll add up the results and let you know who won!
I'd like to thank everyone who took part!
Before we look at the models here is a quick recap of the models we've been butchering!
All the models and fluff have been tidied into spoilers. click to view.
Moody walked into the Command centre and immediately felt the worse for it. His spine tingled and the room was a dank, rotten cold. Freezing, in fact. His augmetic arm already had frost forming along it. He growled under his breath "Psyker Witchcraft!" Shivering and cursing, he continued into the dimly lit chamber.
Clustered around the glowing hololith of the capital city, were a number of figures, although none of them seemed to be any happier about the temperature. Moddy nodded stiffly to his fellows and bowed to the Militant Lor- General Dernbac,. "M'lord, you summoned me?"
"Yes Sargeant. I have a...special briefing for you" he replied haughtily, gesturing into the shadows to his right. Moody became aware of a rasping breath emanating out from the shadows. Masked by the unmistakeable sound of a respirator. A figure shuffled out from the shadows, pal, old and decrepid. His face was mostly covered by a respirator and his one good eye looked drowsy, his other a milky white, tinged disturbingly red. Bile came into Moody's mouth and he almost retched, but held his composure. "This is Hadouir Alyr. As you may have guessed he is a Psyker."
A prick at Moody's conscience made Moody put his hand out, meeting Alyr's. Moody hadn't even noticed it was there. A voice as laboured as the breathing eminated from him. "No need to not heed manners Sargeant." Moody snorted to hide his surprise. Alyr's grip was strong, and completely at odds with his appearance. It had a surety that can only come from knowledge and restrained power. Alyr became to make a horrible retching noise and Moody realised it was laughter. He stiffened in the knowledge that the psyker had reached into his mind once again.
"Moody, you are to escort Hadouir into battle..." Moody made to object but Dernbach waved away his protests. "I won't hear any of it Sargeant. Your squad has the lowest attrition rate in the whole company. And I intend to make sure Hadouir get's where he is needed. If anything he should bolster your sqaud."
"But sir. He's a psyker. A witch! The boys won't be willing to travel with it." The wheezing continued from behind him. "Besides, he'd be safer with your bodyguard."
"You know that's not true Moody. And don't make me order you."
Moody felt a hand on his augmetic arm, and the frost began to spread, rapidly. Leave it Moody, you do not want me as an enemy Moody shook his head to get the voice out.
"He's right Sargeant." spoke Dernbach, and Moody guessed that Alyr had projected that last sentence to everyone. "Right now, this man is possibly the strongest on the whole planet."
Lost for words, and still reeling from the psykic pressure on his mind, Moody threw a quick salute and stormed out from the room. Behind him, Hadouir Alyr began his slow, shuffling excuse for a walk after him.
TRANSMITTED-Fenwyck IV (Destroyed by Inquisitorial Order 41919.001 Exterminatus carried out by Glorious Wrath 41920.101
RECEIVED-Order of Tormuedra
DESTINATION-Grand High Deacon Hyston Blasmont
DATE 41918.009
TELEPATHIC DUCT Helios Schmidt
REF Ordo/Malleus/Extremis/Diabolis
AUTHOUR -Adjudicator Toxophilious Laud
THOUGHT OF THE DAY To fight a disease one must sometimes sacrifice a limb, to fight heresy one must sometimes sacrifice a soul.
It has become apparent that the Heretic who acted as an advisor to Lord Gastoigne in his recent coup is most certainly a follower of the diabolical gods. He has espoused heretical beliefs that tear at the very heart of the Imperial Cult. He claims that even the mighty Astartes have been lead astray by him. He has told a tale that 9 great chapters of the Astartes once left the Emperors holy service (he calls these chapters Legions obviously an uneducated fool who is not privy to their true name). He even claims to have been one of a lodge of warriors who lured a great champion of the Empire a man named Horus into Heresy. This is an obviously fictitious story and typical of the lies of Heretics. He is described as a mystical warrior armed with a fleshy fiery staff with a terrible eye staring out of it. He wears a fantastic suit of armour which also burns with unholy flame. This bares a visage of some unholy daemon. Many who have seen him swears that it watches the people around him. He also bears an arcane weapon which belches hellfire at the foe. An obvious mutant with his birdlike limbs and feet he has some bizarre power and authority upon the unholy warriors gathered around the Lord.
It is apparent master that this describes the unholy fiend known as Susarro of Davin. He has been sighted at least six hundred and sixty six times throughout the galaxy. Not one of the Segmentum has escaped this scourge. He appears to have an unholy skill at corrupting the aristocracy of a world and leading their worst faction into power. He then encourages a revolution against them and byzantine feuding amongst them. This leads to chaos. Swiftly he works his way into dominance among the factions and inspiring new feats of slaughter, lust, anarchy and decay. If severe sanctions are not applied quickly this has led to an incursion of diabolical forces. This threat must be eliminated by any means possible.
++ "Heads up!" Weiss straightened his back, puffed out his chest and cradled his autogun infront of him. He had his business-face on. Dregg slid from the crate, drained the last of his Wildsnake and threw the bottle into the rubble behind him "wa'sup?".
In the gloom something was shuffling towards them. The gangers stood side by side blocking the entrance to the hideout as the shape moved slowly closer.
Dregg took a flashlight from his pouch and clicked it on. The lense shone dimly then faded to a useless yellow glow. He shook it but the powercell was almost dead. "Feth!" back in the pouch it went and he drew his pistol, hoping there was enough juice left in that instead.
Itchy trigger fingers and straining senses as the shape picked it's way across the waste littered ground until eventually it reached the circle of light near the hideout entrance.
"Oh you're kiddin' me, it's just that crazy old scuzzer again" Weiss felt like putting a couple of slugs in him just to save the hassle of having to hear his nasally voice but ammo was scarce these days "What you want this time vermin?"
The old man shuffled further, his toothless smile greeting the two gangers. "Don't shoot, don't shoot my dears, it's only me again. Trade, trade, care to do a little business?"
Dregg rolled his eyes and went to turn away, he was sure there was another bottle back there somewhere. Then he stopped... The old man wasn't alone.
"Come come my dear, let the gentlemen get a look at you" the old bundle of rags beckoned the figure behind him and into the circle stepped a young boy.
"Strong, reasonably healthy, most of his own teeth, show 'em your teeth lad" the boy gave his well practiced grimace, something he hadn't done for real for some time.
"We have enough juves thanks" sneered Dregg "not interested."
"Only 20 creds, born to fetch, carry and can hold his own in a scrap..."
"We recruit from our own sources, not interested."
"18 creds any lower I'd have to start chopping bits off him."
"Get lost scummer, take your scabby orphan with you, not int......" Dregg noticed something small and many legged scurry amongst the rubble beside the old man. He focused on it as it crossed a rusty yellow and black sign that bore the word WARNING!
A shudder ran up his spine, this just didn't feel right. The old ragbag had kept his left side towards them all the time, his right cloaked in darkness. The boy too had remained a little too calm at being sold to strangers, his hands smartly tucked behind his back. Only now did he realise they both wore red tokens of a scowling face.
Distracted, he hadn't even noticed there were more shapes beyond the circle of light. Many more shapes that crept forward weapons raised. ++
Shas’O Rila
Rila’s worth has been tested and proven for the greater good time and again over many a season against many a foe, whether they be the merciless horde of the green skins,
the stalwart grit of the imperium of man or even the endless tide of the Tyranid fleets she always emerged the victor.
Still war never ends; it never changes and never fades far from the view of a true fire cast soldier. It can be found without trouble or trial and It is within the throes of these
fierce battles as her metal skin reverberates from cannon and shell glancing off her ceramite bosom; sending waves of electrical impulses down her steely spine, through her
plas-steel body as her XV-8H high mobility battle suits systems channel these sensations, these impulses into her neural link.
She swears she can feel it…
Truth be told her friends and family among the cast would often tease “were you to caress the hard metal shell she would blush, scrape it and she would cry”.
One with the machine…
With a thought she could soar into the sky as free as any Vespid on the wind and with a frown? With a frown she could unleash the searing plasma that roared and raged
kept caged within her arms reducing foe to ash, turning cowards on their heels.
When Shas’O Rila and suit are joined only the light of the greater good may shine brighter.
‘A foul creature… lets see it survive without air‘ He released the control and felt the dead lock click. The E-Purge was complete. The pressure in the room for a moment lowered, but the SCAPA could be heard whirling for the first time since installation, pressure in the command chamber was stable.
Balthazar removed his re-breather and took a deep breath and slouched into his chair, his first thoughts for the hundreds of souls under his command forcing their way into his mind. He’d given them no warning.
The Wail echoed again this time across the vox-caster…
‘What was She’ The air locks and hanger bay icons had turned black as the near vacuum that was the atmosphere of LVX-426-G Sucked the life from the Listening Station.
The general glow of the Environmental Panel was changing away from the comforting aqua that had been maintained for the best part of two hundred years, the outer chambers were red indicating that the atmosphere there was already violently hostile. Crew alarm points were being activated in almost every Section of the Outpost and the individually monitored life signs of the crew were extinguishing at an alarming rate, He closed his eyes.
‘Emperor protect us’
Metal scratched against metal just outside the door.
‘She’s Found me’ He rushed to the emergency broadcast system and pulled the control panel from the wall, Balthazar knew that in doing so the first automated signals were already being sent ‘station compromised’… his mechanical fingers darted around the holo-field, but he didn’t really know how to update the message.
‘What is she’
Outside the room the wailing and scratching stopped. Balthazar returned to the environmental control panel, The whole station was now exposed to the vacuum.
‘Is she dead?’
Balthazar was suddenly aware he could now see his breath in the air, the holo-screens began to power off one at a time. He unholstered his las-pistol and pointed it at the only entrance, still locked and sealed against the purge. His hairs stood on end, Balthazar felt the urge to turn around, but he was paralysed with fear and could only manage to turn his head. His eyes locked with hers, she was pulling herself straight from the shadows, he tried to react but the beast lashed out with a long bladed limb that skewered his pistol arm. Pulling on his flesh against his horror she pulled the rest of her body from the shadows and towered over him, she grabbed him with a hand that burst into flames and lifted him up to her face "BALTHAZAR" she hissed, her third arm pushed a blade into his abdomen, as she slowly pulled him closer still, Balthazar could feel her absorbing his life force, his pain and his fear sucked in through her unblinking eyes…
Luther laughed, for so long he had bemoaned his decision to retire from the guard to this desolate rock, now there was a call to arms he was shaking like a green cadet. After nearly 30 years, naye lucky years on the front line he had longed for peaceful solitude to contemplate the gifts of the God-Emperor and to minister his word to those that needed it.
When the Lord-General had disbanded the Urson 325th Headsmen he had wept tears of joy to be given to opportunity to settle Leninor IV. Seeking a quite life he had found himself amongst the miners in the Zaychev steppes about as far away from civilisation as it was possible to be.
He sat there cleaning his old service pistol and he wished he wasn’t so isolated now. The instant things begun the townspeople and the miners sought his council. Initially he thought that it was right and good that they had done this, who would be better placed than a priest of Him-on-Earth to guide the people in troubled times. But that was when it started, no one had missed the odd servitor that went missing in the tunnels but when miners started seeing walking corpses, the old temple filled.
Now they no longer came for just comforting words and prayer; no they now sought a leader to investigate "the cursed" as the scared townsfolk would call these happenings. With no imediate outside assistance the local magister had lead the delegation, “who better to lead than a veteran guard champion, a Headsman no less” he had said ignoring his own responsibility.
He slammed the charge pack home. Luther laughed again, in retrospect maybe he had put a little to much emphasis in his sermons about the need for the people to fight the good fight, the war stories had caught their imagination but now it was dragging him away from the peace he cherished.
He looked at the Urson made reliquary on the alter. It was six feet long and filled only with death.
He walked over, sighed and then opened it. The smell of blessed oil filled his nostrils, he chanted the ritual of activation and hefted the sword from its resting place. Even with his augmented arm it was difficult to lift it to eye level. He took in the sight of it. Seven years since he had last held it, it had lost none of its air of danger or lustre.
He touched the second covert on the hafts Aquila. There was a low hum, then the suspensor kicked-in and the sword immediately balanced in his hand, its weight dissipating.
A sweep of the blade about his head and then he held the sword to his face and whispered another prayer, then he thumbed the stud on the grip. The sword burst into life, an azure glow enveloped the blade and the teethed edge sped up until it dissolved out of sight.
He joined the gathered party. “Come Magister; let us see what these metal skeletons are all about”
Luther laughed to himself, he would know peace again soon enough but first the sword told him there must be death.
WIP
Spoiler:
Complete
Spoiler:
++ +++
^ That's all of the accepted entries that were in by the deadline ^
...
The following are participants who made a valiant effort but sadly missed the deadline.
I hope that they update the thread once they finish their models because there is allot of great WIP and fluff here.
”So tells us again why we goin’ down to the slums Bozzok.”
Bozzok sighed. Why, in the God-Emperors name, did he always end up working with the most stupid mercs in the city?
”Were here Reeme, because were getting paid.”
” Yeah, I know we getting paid Boz. But what we getting paid for?”
”If you had listened when we were hired you’d know. Fine. The ratty geezer’s paying us to find his niece. He said something’s been making people disappear down there.”
”You know what it is?”
”The thing down there? No. But I’m thinking it’s a particularly crafty mutie or a gang of slavers.
Either way this shouldn’t be too difficult. We’ll be back before dinner, you’ll see.”
5 hours later
”Move it Reeme! It’s right behind us. Keep running! Reeme?”
Emperor preserve me. It got Reeme. Got to keep running. Come on Boz, you can do it.
Bozzok turned a corner, dropped a grenade on the ground and kept running. The grenade went off and the pressure wave threw him to the ground. He got up and peered down the corridor. Nothing. Did he kill it? What the hell was that thing? No matter. Have to make sure it’s dead.
As he started down the corridor he heard a sound and turned around with his pistol raised.
Bozzok Craym had just enough time to scream before the darkness took him...
Once his home could have been considered beautiful, with the elegant spires, the lush greenery and the very essence of life felt through every footstep, through every wall and through the air itself. Once he was at peace here, with all his kin. Their numbers may have been dwindling, their time on the stage of the universe drawing inevitably closer but for the time they could feel. Pride at their accomplishments. Joy at the beauty which was before them. Satisfaction at what was theirs.
This all changed when they came. The spires were shattered, the skies darkened and the air itself became impure and tainted. Their home became sick as they surged forward, a plague of mindless, devastating vermin intent on nothing more than destruction. It had shocked them. It had angered them. This enemy acted without reason. It acted without emotion. The true horror lay in that. An unending time that consumed, that destroyed, that defiled. They didn't even get the chance to bury their fallen, forced to abandon them where the fell in desperation, forced to cast their souls to fate's whims as they sought shelter wherever it remained. Even now, on his path which he could never leave he still felt that pain. It was not grief. It was not sorrow. It was anger. Cold and primal, it twisted in his gut like a parasite, like a remnant from the horrors that had beset their world and cast it to ruin.
Even now, as he walked amongst the silence. Even now as he cast cold grey eyes to the bleached bones that lay scattered where men, women and children once fell. Even now as his feet fell upon lifeless stones and shattered ruins that once marked all his hope and joy. He stops, reaching down in his anger and picking up one of the delicate skulls, looking at it in contemplation. The dead never got to rest. Even as their bones lay, scattered and lifeless their souls were regularly bound to war in a desperate attempt to merely survive.
That was not good enough. That would not do. They had to be remembered.
Fluff2
Spoiler:
Broken homes. Bones scattered, of his own kin and the alien alike. He walked in the dead garden, in the dead silence and he shook his head. Perhaps if they had turned their gifts, their sight to something other than their own vanity they would have seen this coming. And now, for that price they were forced to conscript their dead for every petty thing. Every pointless skirmish, every meaningless dispute. Time and again they dishonoured their dead by forcing them to march in lifeless shells that held nothing to the beauty they may have had in life.
He looks to the sky and screams, bitter, angry, full of hate despite the path he had chosen. And he kneels down, running tired old hands across those sun bleached bones. He would remember. He would remember them all. He would remember all the horrors, all the pain and all the shame. He picks one skull up and grasps it carefully, running worn fingertips over the ridges of the eye sockets. This was a living being once. He remember their smile. He remembered their face.
He remembered her love.
He was possessed. Distraught, torn by the memory as he took the skull and carefully tied it with a thread of silk. He would carry his memories with him. All of them. He scrabbled in the dust, gathering the bones, tying them for several hours until a few hours later he heard footsteps.
Captain Bellard was at the end of wits, his command post was a Hive City on the planet Xenris. The planet was a desert world it was almost unbearable to go outside of the hives in the day time due to the extreme temperatures without breathing apparatus, it was possible at night but it was always below freezing so most of the population stayed in the hive. It made life easy for the small Imperial force he was Captain of he just had to monitor the Arbites to make sure they kept their handle on the gangs and that was it, their only real presence was due to the Hives output of tactical dreadnought armour which was considered a high enough risk to warrant a small imperial force.
Lately though things had being going slightly down hill for Captain Bellard, his psyker was unwell he kept hearing a voice in his head driving him insane, the medical staff couldn’t find any explanations. He was due to be sent off world on the next shipment but that was a few months away. The other problem that had recently occurred around the same time as his psyker falling ill was the main reason for his concern, some of his regiment had gone missing. There was nothing to show for the missing Guardsmen, they just failed to report in for duty. At this rate Captain Bellard was losing about 5 troopers a week and it wasn’t just the troopers there were weapons missing as well some a bit more heavier then he was comfortable with. Last week two Missile Launchers disappeared from the munitions dump, he wasn’t happy.
The worst fear for the Captain was of his Guardsmen turning tratior it had never happened on his shift but Chaos was a hard beast to track down, the last thing Bellard needed was to call upon the Inquisition for advice as it could very well be his undoing.
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Deep down in Fracturez Hive Skunk was onto too something, he had heard rumours of a hidden weapons cache down near the reactor levels. Not many gangers went down that far but the Scavvy gang wasn’t afraid of going deeper than the others, what was lost at the bottom of the hives was theirs alone. That included the smell as well, recycled air only goes so far down and then all you can smell is the rankness of the sewer channels. There’s a reason not many go that far down and that was it but Skunk was a hardened scavenger and didn’t have much of a sense of smell from being punched in the face one too many times.
As Skunk worked his way through the corridors he had the sense of someone following him, armed with his trusty stub pistol, he wasn’t too worried and he was a big enough guy to not get much hassle from anyone else he might meet down here. Then he heard the footsteps not far behind, he dived round a corner stub pistol ready. But there was nothing not a single noise, Skunk had a glance back round the corner and wished he hadn’t as he came face to face with a shotgun. Not the nicest of welcomes he could remember but the young lady on the other end could change his mind, although he could tell from her dress sense he wouldn’t have a hope of getting out of this situation alive.
The Scavvy’s were in the middle of gang warfare with the Escher gang in the same facility. She demanded information on the weapons cache for his life. If they took the cache then the whole gang would be wiped out, he wasn’t going to give his gang up and he didn’t trust her to let him live to tale the tale. He heard the trigger of the shotgun click and felt his guts explode. Skunk stood there for the briefest of moments feeling like his life had turned into slow motion, in the last seconds of his life he saw something from the shadows a creature he couldn’t think how to describe, it came darting towards him and he was glad the shotgun claimed his life.
The Escher ganger looked into Skunk’s eyes as she pulled the trigger there are no second chances in the hive it’s live or die. As the weapon fired she saw a reflection in Skunk’s eyes of something moving up rapidly behind her. She span round and brought her weapon to bare but she wasn’t quick enough the creature was inhumanly fast and clawed a gaping wound across her stomach taking her down, her last vision before she passed out was of a creature from hell itself. Her body hit the floor, the creature dragged her off into the darkness.
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The voice resonates out into space to those that can hear its call “We are coming and we will leave no world unturned,
prepare for annihilation”.
Wow Panic that post must have taken some time to put together! Thanks for organising the comp,I don't think I would ever have considered even trying a conversion that extensive without it.
Also well done to all of the posters on this thread, both those that made it and those that didn't. I haven't seen anything here that hasn't made me impressed with the creativity that Dakkanauts across the world seem to possess. to all involved.
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/04 18:21:31
How do you promote your Hobby? - Legoburner "I run some crappy wargaming website "
2011/09/04 18:28:17
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - The Time is up - Lets have a look at what we've got!?++
Congratulations to all those who made the deadline! They are all damn schweet, will be a hard choice for whoever the judges are!
To those that didnt make it, comiserations, but carry on finishing them and posting here. I would love to see them finished properly, would be a shame otherwise.
Well done guys!
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/04 19:25:49
2011/09/04 19:34:35
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - The Time is up - Lets have a look at what we've got!?++
where am I? *looks around* Well i'm...errr...I...I...don't know!
Indeed. I second all that has been said here in thanking panic and the quality of the entries. I will re-iterate my belief that this be sent to GW and demonstrate what can be done with some imagination as opposed to their mostly dull and plain models (and we know this would make one hell of a "What's New Today" post )
MAY YER BOLTER NAE FALTER!!!!
2011/09/04 20:54:12
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - The Time is up - Lets have a look at what we've got!?++
I can consolidate all the pictures and send them through to GW if people are interested. I'm away for a few days, so if any of the final entrants don't want to be included (for any really odd reason), PM me before the end of Wednesday
After seeing Panic's mega-post, I ealised I forgot my fluff
So here it is!
Sorcerer Ma'Klar, once Primaris Psyker Jarren, was one of the Imperium's heroes. He slew many of Mankind's worst enemies. When Munin lead his entire Chaos Marine army, though, he was one of the first to turn.
It is said that his time ended when Wedge Talon, now the Chapter Master of the Hunter Eagles, tore his body apart. It is unknown what happened then and there, but it seems his body turned into psychic energy.
The worst task an assassin can be tasked for is to kill this mad-man, as after the blade or bulet pierces his armour, his psychic mass breaks free and burns them with it's firey energies.
In short, this being could be called one of the biggest threats to the Imperium, espeacially since he can possess the bodies of the dead...
EDIT: oh, and endtransmission, please wait for me to get clearer pics!
This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2011/09/04 21:00:20
2011/09/04 21:11:35
Subject: ++ Pimp My Sorcerer 40K! + P&M Contest - The Time is up - Lets have a look at what we've got!?++
endtransmission, I'll try to have clearer pics by then too.
Was fluff a requirement? I didn't see it in the OP, but I glazed over a lot of those wordy bits in the rest of the thread on my hunt for pretty pictures. I don't really have any.
Order of the Sable Heart
Grave Knights
House Rouen 
-affiliated Traitors - 
The Joker colors are a great scheme for that figure.
I didn't know he was going to have a banner with him, but the final project looks pretty damn sweet! I'll definitely have to take a closer look in your gallery for the details.
Exactly right on both points, but for the first, it was the thought and overall peacekeeping that counts. I'm definitely pleased (and genuinely awed) with the end products on this thread... so many great works with the humanoid chaos sorcerer and necromancer... and the few who took on the Tzeench sorcerer/
"Whilst we stand, we fight. Whilst we fight, we prevail. Nothing shall stay our wrath" 
Guilliman and the Ultramarines are like Manchester United, everyone hates them because they are so awesome! 
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