Forum adverts like this one are shown to any user who is not logged in. Join us by filling out a tiny 3 field form and you will get your own, free, dakka user account which gives a good range of benefits to you: No adverts like this in the forums anymore. Times and dates in your local timezone. Full tracking of what you have read so you can skip to your first unread post, easily see what has changed since you last logged in, and easily see what is new at a glance. Email notifications for threads you want to watch closely. Being a part of the oldest wargaming community on the net. If you are already a member then feel free to login now.

Here you are! The riders are Guardswomen by Victoria Miniatures. The firearms are from Mad Robot and GW, and I think the melee weapons (not the lances, those are from Victoria) are as well. The mounts are cheap dinosaur toys from Toysmith (had I not found those, I was going to order Cold Ones), and the saddle packs and bases are Crayola Model Magic. I really love them, but I've had no luck with them on the battlefield, but that's been true for my Guard in general.

Thanks for sharing. A really cool idea, I love them.
While I have a bunch of rough riders and plan on getting more I haven't played so far and don't expect them to peform excellent. Then again they remain ihr of my favourite units in the fluff

New stuff (yeah!):

First of a nice Tauros Venator proxy from Puppetswar:

I tried a sharded camo this time which looks pretty nice I think. Also a bit of an experiment with the decals on the turret sites.
I did a bit more variation for the armament (twin missile launcher, twin lascannon, twin multimelter, twin heavy bolter) all of which would be pretty nice on such a fast little scout.
The vehicles name is "Osuyiani", which is the Massai word for the african wild dog. I found it fitting since with the missile launchers it looks a bit like the wild dog with its big round ears.

The next one has an own short story snippet:
As she entered the hangar that currently served the regiment as garage and workshop, a N’GoNi mechanic that was just sitting in a corner with a cup of recaff sprang into attention and saluted snappily, announcing unnecessary loud “Good evening my LORD COMMISSAR JACQUARD! Would you like to join me on a nice cup of recaff in our break room? Some biskuits maybe?” In the back of the workshop she could hear a muffled “Dammit…” followed by the characteristic noise of someone trying to pull a tarpaulin over a large object without making a sound – a fruitless effort as always. It was obvious that something dodgy was going on here, yet her intuition told her that it was not rebellion brewing but more likely some of the usual mischief going on with the Askaris and their notorious ways of improving their equipment situation. The usual code of conduct taught at the Schola would have been as swift as it was violent, but out here it was her command and over the last months the Askaris had earned enough of her trust to have the benefit of the doubt. They might be very… unconventional, but their loyalty to the imperium seemed unquestioned. “I’ll take the recaff and a nice little tour to the back of your workshop. It’s always interesting what you pick up along the way…” She answered with a warning undertone that made clear that the uncommissarily patience she had shown with her bolter so far might run out soon if they tried to make a fool out of her. The N’GoNi looked a bit shaken and nodded, as they made their way to the darker corner of the hangar where another two Askaris stood suspiciously disinterested beside a scout car shaped tarpaulin.

The… thing in front of her looked like some madman had wielded, stapled and glued together whatever he had found lying around on a scrapyard, and the bright red color all over it completed her assumption about it’s origin. “Care to explain what you got there?” “It’s… umm… it might be… a militia vehicle? I mean, it certainly looks civilian doesn’t it?” She couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. “OK, I’ll bite. But how on earth did you bring it here? I though those don’t work without… you know…” Her question was answered by a high pitched little shriek from under the engine hood, that was quickly silenced by a healthy slap on the metal plate and a muffled “shut up!”. “We… errr… are trying to find …. a workaround?” The engineers looked to her pleadingly and added “In the end, it will likely explode itself or be blown up within the next 2 days anyway, we might as well use it to draw some fire, don’t you think?”

Meanwhile a couple of miles away an Orkboy was in the process of making a grots life really miserable “Stinky ya stupid snot!!! Some Gitt nikked our buggy! And whe da hell is Squeaky?”


An Ork Buggy from Puppetswar. I really like orky conversions of looted vehicles so I thought "why not looting back?" so here we have an ork vehicle that was "found", with some imperial eagles slapped on and will count as Tauros Assault vehicle. the red, yellow and green are contrast which made it pretty easy to paint. The weapons were kitbashed. Upper left and lower right are intended to be a heavy flamer (from a Chimera turret), the other two are the Tauros Grenade launcher (whose stats look like two infantry grenade launchers slapped together so that's what I did).

Nice additions, there's a lot of contrast between them! Osuyiani so high tech it'd look great with your stormies. Twin grenade launcher just suits the re-looted orky one so well. And the imperial skull on the front makes a lot of sense becasue it might well stop friendly fire!

Nice snippet, very funny.

Aoroatea IV is a rather beautiful planet, in the same subsector as Thoth and covered with a large ocean, shallow corall reefs and countless islands. Unfortunatly it also possesses a rather high gravity and thus is only settled by a comparatively huge Ogryn population decendant from Abhumans left behind after the Maccharian crusade. Often isolated on their separate archipelagos on their world, the Ogryns have devolped a variety of distinct cultures which often include a rich and highly complex ritualistic life. Tattoos and similar markings are widespread and connected to various achievements and innitation rituals, as are rather impressive and intimidating greeting ceremonies that often resemble feinted attacks.
When the imperium first made contact to Aoroatea IV this caused a misunderstanding with the imperial envoy opening fire on the suspected attacking Ogryns which in turn led to the untimely death of said imperial representative. When the Askaris were sent to retaliate for this attack, they instead realized similarities to parts of their own tribal culture and managed to react in a way that ultimately led to the compliance of the Abhuman world. Due to the strategic value of the giants the punitive mission was cancelled and the world instead integrated into the Askaris recruitment folder.





As described in another threat, my take on some Maori styled Bullgryns. The weapons are (from above to below): Nifo'oti (Samoan), Tewhatewha (Maori), Wahaiki (Maori). For the tattoos I looked at various pictures of traditional Maori, Samoan and Polynesian tattoos and tried to combine some of their shapes and patterns.
The feathers were a spontaneous idea by my wife, and I really like the additional flair they give the big boys. The beautiful beach bases are from Microartsstudio.


I tried to print out the "fiery lotos" on their backs and shields on decal paper for printers (first try with those) but my printer was not precise enough, so I did them freehand (the result is not too bad I think). But in general such decal paper seems to have potential, if you have some larger image you want to apply or if you have a really good printer.

I had some more tribal markings on the armor in mind, but I think it would be too much. Maybe on the next Maogryns I do. At most I might still add a little Tiki later on.

The Maogryns turned out really good. Weapons, Tats, Haka faces look great.

Junior Commissar Butch Baker



Butch was born and raised on Catachan and spend a good amount of his youth training in a local schola progenium facility. The unconventional way of his homeplanets soldiers had an obvious influence on his interpretation of his role as beacon of morale and his view towards the military chain of command and code of conduct, which led to some problems when the freshly graduated junior commissar was first deployed in a regular Astra Militarum regiment. While his exploits led to numerous complaints by the officers of his attached regiment, it also raised the interest of Lord Commissar Jacquard, as she was looking for fitting candidates to support her deployment to the Thoth Askaris. Being transfered to the newfounded regimento, Butch adjusted to his new comrades in no time and showed a talent for striking just the right tone to bring out the best out of his charges. Needless to say that there were multiple ways in which he managed to raise morale...



Sister Leonora

Sister Leonora is a veteran member of the Orders Sabine - dedicated to serve the Missionaria Galaxia and their quest to spread the imperial faith unto new discovered worlds. More of a fighter than a diplomat, she was oftern send to feudal and feral worlds, were the fighting monstrosities and demons surrounded by an angelic halo might serve the faith as well as careful counsel and rhetoric finesse on more developed planets. Her latest - and due to her age starting to show possibly last - mission send her to Thoth alongside Missionary Hakeem and another two lesser members of her order. While both - the Battlesister and the Priest - took a while to warm up to each other, they learned to appreciate and respect the others strengths and together became more than the sum of their parts. Where Hakeem became a spiritual icon and leader, she was soon known and respected as the personification ot the skyfathers vigilance and protection. Seeing Thoth not only return into the imperial fold but also stay loyal when so many worlds of the segmentum pacificus fell into anarchy during the night of the thousand rebellions felt like the greatest accomplishment and a worthy end to a long and fullfilled carrier. Thus Leonora decided to join the Askaris on their mission to redeem their ancestors.

Commisar is nicely painted, Butch has a real outdoor tan there!

Demon hunter Leonora- beautiful, just beautiful, really really nice job, and such a cool figure.

Knights- they suit with their commander so well. so badass and well what can I say? Love em, very well done, very cool.

I might have to add that Burning Rose attachment afterall...

Amongst the few reinforcements deployed to Thoth in reaction to the rebellions breaking out in the Segmentum Pacificus where two regiments of the Death Korps of Krieg, hastily dispatched to reinforce the systems defenses. These regiments stayed for years after the siege of the system was broken to serve as advisors – improving the training standard of the planets Imperial Guard and PDF forces and overseeing the construction of a planetary defense network. Even though the silent warriors of the death world rarely interacted with the population outside of their duties, their presence left its mark and various influences and traces of them can be found up to this day. While the Askaris do not share the Kriegers love to trench warfare and attrition, the Death Korps is held in high regards and often seen as an example of dedication to the emperor’s cause, with Thoth’s regiments often aspiring to show a similar stoicism in the face of death. Furthermore things like shovel or spade like clubs, leathery facemasks resembling gasmasks and skulls or makeshift trench coats have been observed in various tribes.

Amongst the most elite units within the N’Go tribal contingents are the Twafo, who were directly trained by the Kriegers and even served alongside the Deathkorps for a couple of campaigns. They returned to Thoth with an unmatched experience for warfare in trenches and similar confined spaces and brought back some of the weapons and traditional heavy trenchcoats of the death world as well. Being handed down from one fallen soldier to the next in a symbolic act of keeping the Kriegers heritage alive, these often resemble nothing more than rags, yet still mark the wearer as elite amongst his peers. In their spiritual belief, the Twafo see themselves as already having crossed the line between life and death, thus not being held back by any fear for their life which is symbolized by war paint resembling a white skull mask – a concept they at least aspire to achieve, even though they are still human. Contrary to the popular believe of outsiders the skulls that are often worn at the belt or armor are not trophies of slain foes but mementos of fallen comrades, accompanying their battle brothers and watching over them.




The Minis are from Puppetswar (Stalkers) with African heads of the same company and Anvil Industry Renegade shotguns. They are intended to either represent Death Korps Combat Engineers or Storm Grenadiers. I tried to achieve various things on the paintjob of these minis. I wanted the clothes to resemble the official paintscheme of the Deathkorps on the Forgeworld website (blueish-grey coats, sand/mud colored trousers), in a way how it would look if these coats have been given from one soldier to the next for quite some circles of fighting. I also choose this rather blueish grey as it is closer to the French WWI uniform than to the German grey, as the French had some African soldiers in the European trenches as far as I know.
Furthermore I wanted to mix in some bronze, as a lot of my N’Go soldiers and vehicles have golden armor plates, so I wanted to reference this “colorful metal” theme while shifting the color a bit. The green grenades should indicate the engineers acid grenades. And finally I wanted to do something else on the faces as I used these heads a few times on other minis. I first thought about some mask resembling a gasmask but tried some skull facepainting instead. I’m not completely convinced as of now, maybe one has to look at it a couple of times. Maybe I will repaint it. The future will tell.
“Twafo” was the title given to the “Advance guard” of the army of the African Ashanti Empire and seemed to me as fitting for some Trench-fighters.

Bobby almost felt relieved, as the rough shaking from their transport faded and gradually made room for a weird, slow paced rhythmic swaying. He stood up and put his head out of one of the free spaces on top of the large armored hull to see what was going on. The massive head – wearing the trophy of a scaled beast he had overpowered with his bare hands - startled one of the gunners manning the twin stubbers in the rear for a moment, but luckily the man was not trigger happy. Looking over the sides of the Gorgon, he saw that they had reached the shore of the large stream they had already seen yesterday, unable to cross it. The giant amphibious vehicle was already man deep in the water, towing a massive steel cable behind it to stabilize the Chimeras following up. Thick, red mud was blowing up everywhere around it and looked like dark clouds in the brownish water. He did not really understand all that was going on, but he knew that his friends were on this side and bad people were on the other one. It was important to get on the other side and chase them away, that was what King Bantu had told him in sign language. The current was strong and some of the larger waves even splashed a bit of water into his vessel, but 220 tons are not that easily turned over – that was what the Gorgon was built for after all. Bobby did not really know of that specifically, but he knew that Bantu had told him the large metal box would carry him and his little troop across, so there was no need to worry. As he heard some rumpling and shouting from below, he ducked back down into the rather dark confinement of the cargo hold. As big as it was – when you crammed a couple of Bullgryns inside a dark, closed room it could get pretty tight for the section of Askaris sharing it. It was Rua that was acting up again, screaming and banging at the large front ramp to get out and the others started to get nervous too, chearing him on to get the door open. The Askaris tried their best to stay out of the way and huddled in the back, but they were scared - you could smell it easily. If the idiot really managed to damage the ramp they would likely all find a very quick and very wet grave.
Bobby hunkered down a bit, straightening his back and pulling out his chest before he put on “the look”. The other Bullgryns immediately went dead silent – Tangaroa suddenly found interest in the clouds above them, Taonga remembered that he urgently had to polish his armor and Huatara abruptly showed an unmatched fascination with his shoelaces. Rua took a moment to realize it, looking puzzled at his comrades. He slowly turned around and met Bobbys gaze, but right now he was too worked up to really calm down, so he screamed at him instead. That was… a poor decision. Bobby stood up again, towering two heads above the Abhuman with the promise of impending doom in his eyes. Rua went pale… and silent. He turned his head to the ground and shuffled back to his seat. Bobby focused his troop of suddenly very disciplined Bullgryn for some more moments and relaxed again. After some seconds he sat down in front of them and put a giant hand on Ruas shoulder, who relaxed a bit more. It was still dark and crammed in here, but the swaying from the waves was… kind of relaxing. That changed when they closed in on the other side and they could hear bullets patter at the armored prow. Bobby did not have to use “the look” again, as his troop got up and formed a line of heavy slabshields at the front. They would take this shore and make Bantu proud.



Bobby is a giant Primate that King Bantu found within the deep jungle of Thoths northers rainforests when he was still a baby. His mother had died fighting of a large carnivore and the little ape would surely have joined her fate, but the N’Go warrior took him in and raised him by hand. Soon “Bobby” as he named him grew up into an impressive specimen even for his rather large species and accompanied his adoptive father everywhere, even learning to communicate with him by sign language. Fiercely protective and incredibly strong, he saved the King of the Jungle tribes multiple times and finally even found the beast that once slayed his mother, taking his trophy with him. When the Askaris started integrating Ogryns from Aoroatea IV, they realized that Bobby has a rather stabilizing effect on the Abhumans. He might not be able to use guns or understand as much as a Bonehead, but other than the usual Ogryn he is rather cool headed and quite aware of his strength, not accidently braking things. Furthermore he usually sees the Abhumans as kind of his troop – with him as the Alpha male naturally – and usually this position is not challenged… at least not for long. After that, a stare or a bit of showing of usually suffices in bringing them in line when they act up, which made their integration much more pleasant for the regiment.

The mini is from Reaper miniatures, namely the Avatar of Honor. It originally had a boneclub in each hand, but I modelled a shield instead. Its form and pattern is roughly inspired by massai shields. He shall serve as an Ogryn Bodyguard. Maybe even as Nork Dedogg (even though he has no gun). A kind of “Ogryn Commissar” raising morale of the abhumans with his gaze would also be very fitting.
Regarding the name: Bobby was the first Gorilla in the Berlin Zoo from 1926-1933 and pretty popular. He also was quite an impressive specimen at 262 kilogram. He is still an exponat in the museum of natural history, has a statue in the Zoo and even his own song from 1933 that was covered by various artists:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lY4awtGHwMg
As a kid I was pretty impressed from his dermoplastic and the statue so I wanted to name this mini as a little nod to this childhood memory.

Bobby is great. Nice read. Apparently, I also learned some real world history on Dakka.

something I have put on hold for quite some time: rebasing my N'Go soldiers to jungle bases.


On the left are twelve currently in process, on the right 30x25 mm for my Infantry Squads, 3 x 60mm for my Missile launcher Squads and 8 forest rider bases. All bases from Microartstudio.

The process will take quite some time and I know I will struggle with my motivation a bit, but I think it will be worth it. I want to make it easy to seperate between my two forces ("Tallarn" and the dark skinned N'Go "Death Korps") and I decided that sand rimmed desert vs. green rimmed jungle bases will be my way to go. To help me keep up my spirit I promised myself to finish all these before I go to the next models (some of which I really look forward too). This is a moment I'm thankful for contrast, even though I will add additional highlights and details conventionally.
Which me luck!

Storytime again! I did another collaboration with Oldmate, going back some years before the other stories into the Askaris home system during the night of the thousand rebellions. To put a bit of structure into what is happening I did a rough timeline in relation to the night of the uprising:



Zaori Gamma Main hub – 11 days after the Night of a thousand rebellions

“I DON’T CARE IF YOU ARE TIRED! GET YOUR A** OUT THERE NOW AND FIX THAT ENERGY COUPLING!” Lubago grinded his teeth and felt his grip around the heavy wrench tighten, as Keke, his foreman shouted at him, roughly pulling him from the corner he had sunk down to rest a bit. For a moment both men stood in front of each other, eyes gleaming with rage, when he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder. It was Oni who had also just finished her double shift with him. “Come on, I’ll help you with your void suit.” Her voice was soft, but he knew her well enough to hear the unspoken “before you do something stupid… again.” Keke mumbled under his breath but resolved to stroll away trying to keep one of the other station systems from failing under the heavy stress it was put under.

When the foreman was out of ears reach Lubago vented a bit “He still has no right to talk to me that way. None of us has slept in days…” Oni gave him and understanding, but somewhat sad look. “… His wife and son served on the Assagai… He’s grieving, and afraid to lose his daughter too.” Lubago felt a bit guilty and remorseful as he heard that and followed her along to the airlock to prepare himself.

The failing energy coupling was some 200 meters away, amongst the spindly, skeleton like superstructure that tied the pressurized and gravitized hubs of the space station together and made up the majority of its bulk. Under other circumstances he liked those little spacewalks - the silence in the suit and the incredible view of Zaoris purple stormy clouds and colorful ring system, with the occasional spaceship drifting through the endless void towards Gammas docks and refueling stations. Since he was a kid he had loved wasting around his free hours and days watching them and had learned their technical specifications with the same fervent enthusiasm other children had towards dinosaurs. He had always dreamed about one day joining the navy, see something from the universe, maybe even visit Terra, but somehow it had just… never come to it.

Speaking of missed chances he looked at Oni who was checking the pressure seals of his helmet while he did the same with the couplings of his gloves. They knew each other since… forever. They grew up on the station, worked with their parents as soon as they could hold a tool, and served the same shifts. The main Hub housed the most living quarters, yet still it was crewed by barely two hundred people, so you tended to stick together pretty close and those who did not leave tended to find their match sooner or later. Yet somehow they had never gotten the timing right… She must have felt him stare as she looked up and both shared a moment of silence and quite possibly the same thought – even if it remained unspoken. The silence was broken by the clanking of a hammer on the railing on the other end of the huge corridor, were Keke send them a grave stare to hurry up. Lubago nodded, somewhat calmed down and got up. “Take care out there; I don’t want to have to pull you back in.” Oni joked to lighten the mood a bit which made him smile “See you later.” he replied, concentrating on the task before him.

Lubago was almost finished fixing up the small energy coupling in front of him, as he felt the rig around him starting to vibrate again. He cursed knowing this meant that Gammas long ranged laser batteries were aligning themselves towards another target picked up by the scanners. He prepared for the rhythmic shaking from their firing aware that making a mistake or even losing a tool or machinery part right now would be devastating as dropping a screwdriver would quite likely send it on a long decent towards the swirling clouds of Zaori. In the silence of the void he could hear nothing except his own breath and the rustling of his suit which made it a bit easier to stay concentrated. But now and then the light flashes from the defense batteries shed some red light on his workstation forcefully reminding him that more enemies were approaching. “Stay focused!” he told himself again as he fumbled for a loose transistor, catching it just in time. Seconds later he let out a sigh of relief as the relays came back to live, diverting power to the secondary void shield generator to his left. Grasping the pipes of the framework to orient himself for his way back to the airlock he could feel it vibrate from the humming and buzzing machine that usually did its part in protecting Gamma from the dust and rock fragments orbiting the gas giant.

Even though it came with a queasy feeling he risked a look towards their approaching attackers. They were still only small specks within the void, but approaching fast. Nonetheless he could make out at least ten vessels in an ordered formation not really bothered by the long ranged, but underpowered defense lasers usually intended to vaporize micro meteoroids threatening the station. Another fleet including the troop transports had broken off towards Thoth, far out of reach of the remaining system defense.

It had been barely over a week since the Segmentum Pacificus had seemed to go mad all of a sudden. One moment the astropathic comms had been business as usual the next they broke into a cacophony of distress signals and calls for help before they went silent one by one. First they had hoped it had “just” been some kind of warp anomaly affecting the psykers of the subsector, but then a ragtag group of captured imperial ships and repurposed merchants had dropped out of warp and attacked. They had been no match for Thoths system defense fleet and Gammas long range batteries. Two days later, just during a small celebration for their victorious heroes, the second wave hit and forced the fleet to engage before properly being repaired and rearmed. They prevailed again, but the Assagai was hit by a suicidal ramming attack when her close defense batteries ran out of ammo, crippling the only light cruiser of the defense fleet. From there, things went downhill fast. These were not the occasional bands of pirates or raiders that Thoth could have stood a chance against. The bast**ds had left the Assagai out in the open, just outside the range of Gamma, with some hundred crewmen still alive inside the coffin-like remains of their ship, slowly watching their oxygen supply run out. They had defiled the comm channels with broadcasts of them torturing their captured, all to draw the defense fleet out – until the captains couldn’t take it anymore and tried… they lost half their destroyers with the rest barely limping their way back to Gamma station. Finally the astropaths reached Segmentum Command on Hydraphur… only to be told that no reinforcements could be spared because all remaining loyalist forces were to protect the Segmentum capital. The only sliver of hope had been a Krieg regiment sent to reinforce the systems main world Thoth, but everybody knew that when they lost control of the space those would barely delay what was coming for them.

All that was left was to prepare for the inevitable and at least make the enemy pay for it. They would make their last stand near Gamma station, were the strong void shields might give the Kopesh, Knobkerrie and Kpinga – their last frigate and two destroyers – a fighting chance. The other hubs had dived into Zaoris atmosphere to protect themselves as good as they could or were rigged with explosives to maybe take out a careless boarding ship. Meanwhile Thoth, Bagwa and Ulambo would have to face the enemy on the ground.

Lubago managed to take his mind of those dark thoughts, as he saw the still awe inspiring hull of the Khopesh drift out of the dry dock on his left. The frigate might be limping with half of her propulsion blown off, but her lance still packed a mean punch. On his right the two destroyers Knobkierre and Kpinga were also moving out, soon joined by a swarm of smaller craft – a hand full of fighters and torpedo bombers, but mainly repurposed transports, shuttles and repair drones, hastily rearmed or at least rigged with explosives. He moved his head as he saw another large shadow joining the ragtag flotilla flying towards their last stand and smiled. It was the massive shape of the “Tembo”, a giant ore-mining ship, build to break down asteroids. While slow and clumsy, it dwarved even the Khopesh and had shields and a hull thick enough to withstand a lot of punishment. They seemed to have managed to wire the burned and battered remains of the Tsonga below its prow – to exposed and damaged to survive a longer firefight if it could fire at all, but maybe enough to keep the enemy distracted and buy the other ships some time. He had a couple of friends on the ore miner and spoke a short prayer to the skyfather to watch over them while he started to make his way back through the complicated frame of Gamma. In front of him he could see Oni through the window of the airlock, looking up from some paperwork and smirking over to him, mouthing “took you long enough” in a mocking way. She seemed to hesitate a moment, then scribbled something on a slip of paper. She had blushed a little bit when she held it to the porthole “Dinner tonight? My quarter?” Lubago smiled and nodded.

Suddenly the room behind her lit up in a series of some strange, blueish-green flashes and she looked around as puzzled as Lubago. She walked away from the porthole to investigate and seconds later he saw her running back, gesturing him to stay away with a look of horror on her face before diving into cover. Behind her he could see another crewmember fleeing just to be ripped apart by a bolter shell in the back. His remains started to float around as the stations artificial gravity seemed to be failing. Lubago struggled to pull himself in cover just in time to not be seen by the shape of a power armored soldier walking by the porthole, slamming an axe into another unlucky voidwoman. Had he seen him? Was he coming outside? Lubago carefully turned towards the other side, just enough to see the hinges of the airlock while he slowly pushed himself to the underside of the station framework – always careful not to be seen. He had to find another entry before his oxygen ran out and then… what? It didn’t matter now. He would figure something out – at least that was what he tried to convince himself.


Orbit

Petyr checked over the capacitor and fuel cartridge for the plasma gun. It was a touchy weapon, it lit you up, made you a target and you’d never want to fire one after the exposed capacitor took any kind of damaged, but he’d not trade it for the world. The other Thryn void marines with their amped up las-guns would cover him like body guards, and when the opportunity was made he’d step forwards and strike with the power of a sun. Everything was in order, which was just as well because he didn’t feel like vaporising himself today.

Company command crackled into his helmet.
“All teams, station is still in Imperial hands.”
The shuttle rattled as small meteors bounced off it’s plating as it sped towards the besieged space station. It had been standard practice to have a company of void marines loaded and ready to deploy when warp jumping into possible enemy territory.

They’d been pulling apart the ruins of an insurgency, storming the last holdouts concealed in an asteroid belt, which. Which had been almost identical to the training yards back above Thryn.
Then the local administrator stopped broadcasting to their task force.
Next came enemy cruisers, which their ships played cat and mouse with. Until - and he’d always remember this with a smile - The legion arrived, pulled back together from the myriad of worlds it had been fighting on. The cruisers were suddenly facing a fleet of battleships and battlecruisers.

Another three days they fought their way through enemy. The Thryn marines in the vanguard ready to assault any defences blocking their path. And now with ever depleting stores they happened on a loyal system beset by traitors.
The station they were about to storm? Some of the ships require repairs, others just maintenance, but if the station was damaged the sector would likely not hold. And that was why the marines of Thryn, the finest voidsmen in the Commonwealth were being sent to defend it.

“All teams be advised, enemy threat is identified as traitor astartes.”
Petyr almost vomited in his void helmet. It was about the worst news he’d ever expected to hear. Fear threatened to get the better of him. The chaplain’s voice came over the coms. “Warriors of Thryn, we are his chosen tool. Let us go forth and bring honour to our ancestors and into our homes.” Petyr took a long breath. The shuttle rattled more, then something struck it. A shell he knew it by sound. Then another and another. Then the shells stopped.
“Prepare to breach.”
Petyr checked over his weapon and then checked over the life support man in front of him. Someone tapped his helmet and he tapped the one on the soldier in front of him.
The sergeant major walked through the lines of marines. He checked a buckle here checked a gun there. “Marines, prepare for combat.”
“Breaching in five.”
“Voidborn!” He addressed them.
“Blood of the Stars!” The marines screamed in reply.
“URAH!”
The shuttle shook and struck.

It was a soft landing; someone had opened an airlock and the shuttle had skidded in. Even so they stormed forwards into the hanger. Petyr kept in behind the leading fire team. Through windows in the wall of the station he could see the hulking form of an the allied frigate that had shielded them with it’s hull moving to aid her little flottilla. He could see the stricken allied battleship making its final stand as the enemy rushed to cut the station off from the strength of the Commonwealth fleet.

But that wasn’t his fight.
The platoon rushed forwards. They reached a door which had been locked and was still sealed. The marines took up breaching positions with Petyr on the left hand side of the door. He had a bad feeling and pressed his finger on the weapon’s trigger to build up power in the capacitor.
The door came open, there came a volley of las-fire and Petyr fired the bolt of plasma back towards the threat. He could hear someone screaming. A storm of lasfire poured on them and a marine was thrown against the wall with a ruined shoulder.

He charged another shot and hazarded a peek down the hallway. The enemy had set up a barricade, from whose cover they were firing. Petyr shot back against the wall as more rounds came their way, some rounds where his head had been. Petyr stepped out and fired. He didn’t wait to see if his round had any effect, he jumped back in cover and charged another shot keeping it buzzing with the trigger not fully depressed. There was no point in vaporising yourself. The fireteam pressed forwards. There came the sharp snap of their amped up las guns and the heavy crackle of the auto-laser.

Petyr stepped out when he heard the grenade detonate, he moved up. The enemies were certainly dead. Here and There were a few bodies dressed in poor quality civilian void suits and carrying varying patterns of las-guns. It was typical of what they’d seen, no section weapons, no support weapons – station crew most likely, gunned down while trying to defend their home.

Movement beyond a porthole caught his eye as he instinctively scanned the room. Petyr moved towards it to get a better look, if it was an enemy combatant they’d need to be neutralised before the element of surprise was lost. Behind him two more fire teams entered the wide hanger. He could hear lasgun fire from the far end as they cleared the room of traitors. There was a man outside the station, the same space suit that he’d seen on one of the bodies in the hanger they’d just entered.
The man noiselessly thumped the porthole and glanced over his shoulder; he pointed to one of the doors leading off the hanger then pulled a pencil and paper from a pocket. Awkwardly he held himself to the station with a clamp in one hand and scribbled onto the paper. He held up two fingers and put the drawing to the glass.
The drawing was crude, nothing more than a stick figure angel with Astartes shoulder plates surrounded by the ruinous mark. That sent a chill to Petyr’s spine.

“Enemy breachers inbound this door.” He screamed and pointed to the door. “Enemy Astartes!”
A platoon of marines rushed over. He looked over to his friend at the port hole as the soldiers took their positions. The man held five fingers up. A second later he lowered one. Petyr eased his finger onto the plasmagun’s trigger. He almost amped it up too fast.

They had two heavy bolters, a double melta and two las guns, four auto-lasers and dozens of riflemen. And a missile launcher. The man was holding two fingers up when the missile punctured the door and exploded beyond. A few bolt rounds flew back in the moment before everyone opened up.
The darkness and smoke swallowed the fire, until the melta fired it’s second shot. The station shook lightly, the smoke disappeared in an instant and Petyr heard that tell-tale whistle before the rupture repair system kicked in. A few bolt rounds came from the hall and were answered by every gun in the room. Even so three soldiers were dead and another two injured. And they’d had a platoon plus heavy weapons and the opening advantage on the Astartes.

Petyr moved up to the doorway and peeked down the extended byway. Down the hall he could see the underlings rushing to catch up with their masters. He looked over their heads and waited for the door to close behind them. He signalled and two soldiers moved up and leveled their auto-lasers down the extended corridor.
A maelstrom of lasbolts filled the hallway. There was nothing moving in the hall. That’s what happens when you all crowd into a corridor, no doubt expecting the Astartes to clear the way. But as it was they had nothing adequate to stop the auto-lasers and the lasbolts had come thick and fast, punching into the press of bodies.

Petyr’s fireteam pushed forwards cautiously. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. The first two soldiers checked the bodies to make sure they were properly dead, to make sure no-one did anything stupid like activate a grenade when the fireteam pushed forwards, the autolaser and another marine watched the door ahead.
Petyr? He used the other marine as a shield and also covered the door with the plasmagun.
After what seemed like forever they moved clear of the byway.
The team reached a maintenance room, a connector to another two byways, they fanned out and took cover around the joining doors.
___________________________________________
Lubago tried to keep his calm to conserve what little was left of his oxygen reserve, while he watched the soldiers he just helped out approach to the next corridor. He had no real idea who these newcomers were, but their fleet had just dropped out of warp and attacked the heretics while leaving the defense fleets ships alone. Their vessels were no standard Imperial Navy type he knew of, but seemed at least a bit familiar, just as if they had the same predecessor. So at least for now, he assumed that was enough to call them allies. His generous decision was helped by the fact that the LEDs on his oxygen canister were flashing red and blinking fast indicating that he barely had a minute left before he would start to suffocate. Hastily he let himself drift to the airlock that led to a room right next to the one they were securing and knocked on one of the portholes to get their attention. Holding his block to the porthole he hoped they could read his scribbled “open!” and interpret his gesture to the control console on their left.
The air was getting thin while he waited at the airtight seal. Finally, a green light flashed up and the outer valve opened. He flung himself down into the airlock that closed behind him and flooded his confined little sanctuary with heavenly cold air. Lubago pulled his helmet off, coughing and panting fervently. His whole suit was drenched in sweat and he felt more exhausted than ever before, yet adrenaline pushed him back up – or at least on all fours. As the doors separating the airlock from the rest of the station opened, he held his hands in the air, careful to not get himself shot after he just cheated death.
Not really knowing what to say he introduced himself with an awkward salute “Lubago Kiotu. Voidman first class of the Gamma main hub, service number 013362” and immediately felt dumb realizing it sounded like something out of a bad war-movie. The sergeant in front of him – wearing a partly armor plated void suit – nodded “Praise the emperor, 5th Thrynn Marines Legion, we're securing this station for the emperor. Where's the control room?” and was decent enough to not aim his gun at him.
Lubago crawled out and turned towards the next maintenance panel “Help me get that off, so I can tap into our comm-channels.” He announced to no one in particular. On a better day he would have done it alone, but his hands were still shaken from the long space walk and the shock of what had been going down with his station. As the metallic cover hit the ground he grabbed inside the nest of cables behind it, pulled out the connector he needed and plugged in his void suits comm-link. The common channels were all dead or jammed, but a while back they had added a more… private system hidden in the diagnosis feeds for things you did not really want to have on the official recorded channels – a bit of black marketing here, a bit of slag about the bigheads in the high command there, and after all, crewmen got lonely too and you wouldn’t want to have those kind of videochats recorded by human resources.
Finally a grizzled image came up on the small screen in his helmet and he held it for the soldier beside him to see. It was the main control room and Lubago felt his spirits rise as he saw Oni, Keke and half a dozen other members of his crew – his family – still alive. They were fervently trying to barricade a blast door leading to the room with a bunch of heavy crates, tables and other junk while he could hear the muffled sound of shots and explosions coming from other rooms dangerously close by. “GUYS! It’s me! I have some friends with guns, tell us what to do!” he shouted in his microphone and after the second try seemed to get through, as Oni looked up and turned towards the console. “Lubago! Thank the skyfather! We lost control over housing and most of the power stations, but we still have central control and Shaka and some others are still fighting at the docks.” From behind he heard Keke shout “They are coming through! One of the big guys and at least a score of his underlings, just outside this blast door.” The screen crackled and the image split as Shaka tapped into the channel. His helmet camera was shaking as he sprinted for cover with lasbolts flashing over his head and he bled from a cut at his brow. “Don’t try the main corridor. They dug in there and have booby-trapped the doors, your pals would take too long. But it seems they haven’t found the maintenance shafts yet!” another screen appeared as Shaira – the girl apprentice of the engineer squad in life support tapped in. Her feed continuously changed from dark to completely black and it took Lubago a second to realize she was most probably hiding within some ventilation shaft. The kid looked scared to the bone, but tried her best to put on a brave face as she whispered “I might be able to mess with gravity and air if it helps you get the jump on them. But they will soon realize what is going on. So we have one try and it won’t work for more than a couple of seconds.”
While listening to them Lubao had already led the marines through a couple of corridors to the next access to the labyrinth of maintenance tunnels. “We are coming. Hang in there!” he tried to raise the hopes of his comrades before he turned to his new companions “Are you ready to do this?”


Petyr pulled himself forwards through the accessway, it wasn’t easy in full carapace armour, and he was as always overly protective of his weapon. As he squeezed forwards towards the exit point he felt the grav field give way. Someone ran into his boots and one moment he was squeezing himself forwards, the next he was shunted forwards sliding through the ventilation way. Petyr pressed his back up and his fingers and toes forwards to slow himself down. He heard a bang ahead and then the sharp crack of a marine’s las-gun. Another one joined in, and there was movement in the vent.
Petyr pulled himself forwards, soon the trooper in front of him was pulling himself from the vent. His gloves made enough purchase on the smooth metal. He pulled himself onwards and through the vent, gliding with the grace of a voidborn. The lead section was advancing, gliding forwards down the corridor. Petyr moved forwards, towards the control room navigating the floating corpses of the enemy rebels. More Thryn Marines poured from the vent behind him.

As Petyr reached a wall, he pushed off it and readied his weapon angling himself to push off the floor. An enemy gunner stepped out from a sideway and Petyr snapped a shot off. It wasn’t heavily charged but it was enough to kill the man.
He held his finger down for the second man but none came and he drifted past the entrance way with his weapon ready.

The marines consolidated and readied to breach. They were careful to get food hand grips first. The control room was ahead.
Petyr pressed his finger down of the trigger.
The door blasted inwards and they pressed on. More heretics were ahead and there came the rapid snaping of las fire but Petyr held his own for the right moment. The traitor astartes stepped out, his mag-boots allowing him to walk as if he was in a grav field. He fired once… and a voidsman died.
The other marines took cover and returned fire from all angles while the enemy fighters less versed in this warfare than the voidborn Thryn Marines had trouble staying in cover.
Petyr fired and there came a storm of las-fire on him. He readied a charge and gripped the floor in his other hand. He pushed from the floor with all his strength and twisted himself.
As he exited cover weapon and head first he saw the marine charging towards him. At the same moment he went to release, something stuck the plasmagun. Sparks flew from the containment field.
Petyr didn’t think twice, he hurled the weapon at the Astartes and pushed off a computer monitor.
There was the brief sound of a blast before it was sucked into the void, together with the atmosphere and everything else without a good hold the bodies - traitors and stationeers - first.
The station rocked, and he grabbed hold. The Astartes fired again and again. Petyr turned to see the traitor unharmed and unhurt. He turned his weapon towards Petyr, quite unhurried.
Something flew through the room, sucked by the yearning hole in the station. His stomach turned as he realised it was a marine and he was being sucked straight past the traitor Astartes. Petyr saw the energy field on Leuitenant Rochman’s power-sword arc to life a moment before he saw Rochman and the traitor’s helmet disappear into the void. His headless powerarmor kept standing for some odd moments before it fell over awkwardly.
The containment field reactivated. He saw a grid of energy close the hole and the pulling stopped. There was klaxons and a warning for the avaliable air pressure. But they had done it. The station was secured.

Moments later, gravity came back on and the survivors of the stations crew were all over the place, trying to keep the station going, take care of the wounded and some of them dropping out of the airlocks to try and save Rochman and the others that might have survived being sucked out through the whole. Outside the tide of battle was turning as the Legions Battleships pounded the Heretics to dust. Lubago kneeled down beside the plasmagunner he had met earlier and helped him up. “I don’t know where you come from, but we won’t forget what you did for us. Never!”

Good luck on the big re-basing!

So, as it so often does, life happened. Went on holiday, then lots of other stuff kept me from or slowed down painting. But I got there eventually and put 31 of my desert based or unbased N'Go on painted jungle bases. It might seem a small achievement but I'm proud that I did it after avoiding it for quite some time



I also have some more jungle bases already finished for the next Batch of soldiers. The only ones still missing are one commander and 3 command squad for which I have something special in mind, that still needs some time.

So next of I plan on working on the Hypogryph again and some other stuff.

The amount of detail you put it to your army is phenomenal! Love the conversions and the direction you took with their background. great stuff

And some reinforcements again:


The model is the desert truck from Spellcrow (even though I seemed to have lost the side exaust along the way, but it looks well enough without). Really a nice and well-fitting model. The cockpit is a separate part, so that one can easily access everything during building and painting. The two grenade launchers are from Kromlech. It will serve as a proxy for a Centaur Carrier, as it should have roughly the right size and is also open topped, to carry around my company commander and his command squad. I also considered magnetizing them on their bases so that they can all 5 be put in the cargo space, but while it was technically possible, it looked much too crowded. As an alternative I realized that two 25mm bases fit there quite nicely, so when King Bantu and his squad hitch a ride, I will place him and one bodyguard inside.
I currently have no fitting driver, but he will be added later on.
“Negasi” is an ethiopian name (written here in Ethiopian script) and means something along the line of “he will wear a crown” or “he will become king”. The first seemed fitting enough for the personal vehicle of my King Bantu.


and the finished Hyppogryph:
I’m still experimenting with my wife to put some LEDs in there. But beside from that, I’m pretty satisfied.
For the name I used again the Mandombe script I liked before, this time the name spells Kiune (at least I hope it does), which is a suaheli name meaning something like “He came from nowhere”. A little reference to him being puzzled together from spare parts instead of really being delivered to the regiment.
And here are some final pictures:


more details:


size comparisons:


Aaaand some lore of course:

920.M41 Segmentum Pacificus capital Hydraphur, Departmento Munitorum Subdivision Iota: rimward systems
Administrator third class Calistos took a sip of his recaf and sighed, as Sparky, the office servitor slowly slouched into his office, almost vanishing from view under a huge stack of requisition files he was balancing before him. The lobotomized servant hauled a feet thick collection on each desk and turned away too collect more of the never ending flood of paperwork pouring in from all over the segmentum. His personal responsibility being mostly rimward backwater systems, his work was a bit dull and repetitive at times, but he liked it that way. He began shuffling his way through the uppermost files, glancing through them and working away with his stamp of approval and the dreadful red marker of denial, allocating resources like he saw fit according to the regulations and – undeniably – his personal gut feeling were those were unclear until he came upon a single sheet that caught his attention. Usually it would not be something special, a list of spare and replacement parts for various Imperial Guard vehicles, the problem being some tiny numerals in the upper right corner stating “page 2 of 2”. Calistos shuffled through the files again, looked on the top of the stack, beside his desk and on the part of floor the servitor had crossed, but much too his frustration, page 1 seemed to have been lost in the warp, or more likely had been swept away somewhere along the endless corridors of the administrativum building. Calistos groaned silently at the thought of having to sort this out when he glanced again at the single page and relieved as he noticed the requisitioning regiment. The Thoth Askaris… again. Well, at least it was no one important. And from their reputation within the Departmento Munitorum they should be content to get something at all. Calistos shrugged, threw the single page he had in the copier and approved two requisition pages as he should – they could sort this out themselves and if anyone asked he could just claim the application to have been consisted of two identical pages.

920.M41, Thoth, Spaceport Kigali
Enginseer Kassa Okoya approached the large hangar on the landing field that served the regiment as transient storage room while they picked up new recruits and material to fill up their losses. This morning a shuttle from the Departmento Munitorum had landed, so she was pretty thrilled to see what it had brought, when the Aqid had voxed her up to inspect it. Especially since the administrative drones in Segmentum Command very rarely responded to the Askaris requisitions at all, leaving the regimento hanging and reliant on whatever their homesystem could produce itself and what they could scavenge on the battlefield or nick wherever they could get away with it. The audible and intense cursing coming from the open hangar doors already told her that while they have gotten something, it might not really be as easy as they had hoped for.
Entering she saw a huge pile of boxes and crates but soon realized that there was an awful lack of actual trucks and chimeras, let alone tanks, she would have expected to be there. Aqid Riobu turned towards her, rubbing his face in a gesture of defeat and frustration. They knew each other since they were kids, before she had joined the cult of he machine and he the PDF and both had stayed close to their roots. She was still a relatively low member of the Mechanicus, with just a few augmetics and beside all her enthusiasm for machinery lacked the disdain for her flesh other members of her calling shared. So knowing she would never really climb through the ranks of her cult, she had joined with him, when Riobu was promoted into the regiment and had never regreted that decision.
“What’s the matter Riobu?”, “Take a look yourself, Kassa, does this look like Chimeras and Tauroxes? These idiots have sent us nothing than spare parts… with nothing to put them into.” As she knew all too well, they had lost their last Chimera of any of the official patterns a month ago, getting by on some Thoth produced Jackals and a couple of APCs they captured from a local militia. “What on earth should I do with that bunch of crap? Sure, we can footslog our way to the battlefield if it needs be, but without transports we won’t have anything in the way of supplies or heavy weapons… uhmm… Kassa? Are you listening at all?” the addressed enginseer had strolled over to some of the opened caches with a smirk on her face that Riobu knew all too well “You are ploting something again, don’t you?” “Relax Robu… I think we have enough stuff here, to build a Chimera and a Taurox… that’s a start at least. But I will need everyone that knows which way to point a wrench that you can get your hand too. And for the rest… Let’s say I have a theory I always wanted to prove…” was her answer, while she pulled a Taurox door out with her mechandrite and pushed it quizzically on the side of a Chimera hull deck.
Two days of relentless cobbeling later, her superior, Techpriest Zalazara entered the impromptu workshop taking sight of her creation with obvious surprise, followed by a hint of distain but mostly curiosity. “What in the Omnissahs name is… this thing, Enginseer Okaya? Explain yourself?” she asked in her ratling, mechanical tone and Kassa knew, that she had but one chance to convince her superior. Lucky enough she knew that Zalazara – as most of Bagwas priesthood – was extremely pragmatic and relatively unorthodox for a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, as long as one delivered results. Bowing before the senior priest she answered “We call it the Hyppogryph. We… had to improvise a bit. And was it not the wisdom of the ancients to create the STCs in a way, that parts were interchangeable and designs adaptable to different environments? This here is merely… a little step further.”
Zalazara mustered her and her creation with a severe gaze before breaking into a chuckle that sounded like a sack full of loose screws and bolts. “I’m not even mad… that’s amazing – as long as it really starts up. And if it can also fire in a straight line, than it was most likely intended that way and just forgotten. Go on… convince me, or else…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence as Kassa knew damn well, that this was bordering tech heresy. So she climbed into the driver compartment and hit the key, only to be rewarded instantly with the humming and buzzing of the Leman Russ multifuel engine kicking his power through the chimera driveshaft into the four Taurox tracks carrying the vehicle. While she did not have a discernable mouth anymore, she could see in Zalazars remaining biological eye that she was smiling, as she rounded the compound and finally ordered her assistant to fire some practice shots with the Multilasers into a pile of scrap.
“OK… get on with it, on your own conscience. Test it in the field and if it is any use, we might as well call it Bagwa pattern Hyppogryph and claim it to be a rediscovered STC. Most likely it is, if it keeps working.” Zalazara finished and turned away, still chuckling silently. Kassa could barely wait to tell Riobu the good news…

Love the car! Reminds me a little of the Halo Warthog.

Also, the hippogryph is an inventive kitbash. I certainly don't envy the gunner once this thing starts firing. Looks great! Have fun with the LEDs.

As always great name and story rounding off your vehicles, really cool projects.

And another one:

Jim inched closer to the window of the empty workshop he had taken cover in with the two survivors of his squad and glanced outside if there was any sign of the Orks that had stormed the city. He was pretty tensed and is was only after he was sure that they had no company, that he loosened the grip around his lasgun enough for his knuckles to loose their paleness. Reaching for his Amplivisor he looked down the long, broad avenue leading to the secret hideout of the revolutionary commitee and - not really surprised - found it surrounded by greenies and burning, the few inhabitants trying to fight back or at least run from the blaze being gunned down and chopped to pieces by the hulking Xenos. "So long with our glorious uprising against the oppressors" he muttered sarcastically. They had come too late and somehow the realization had a really sobering effect. In a strange way, it was a bit as if a mist covering his thoughts with certainty and purpose had suddenly been lifted, when they heard the gunfire and explosions. He checked for Beth again, who did her best to secure the room and Kyle who tried to not bleed out from the deep slash in his upper leg - he most certainly did not look good. And on their faces he could see the same sense of sudden confusion and puzzlement - arguably even more prononounced than in his case. "What now? What should we do?" Beths asked, her voice shaking with fear, "We have to avenge them, obviously!", Kyle coughed, throwing up a cloth of blood. It was nothing new, as Jim knew most of his comrades to be not the most questioning people used to think for themselves. Or most certainly it was the other way around and he was the odd one as he had always found it difficult to follow the revolutionary ideals as fervently as others and had often just tagged along because he had no better idea anyway. "You know what we have to do? We have to get the frak out of here!" He replied and met a puzzled look from both his comrades. "The commitee is dead, the government also... it's over and I'm out." Kyles eyes were glowing with hatred "traitor!" "As if... we are all traitors since you shot the Sarge and you know it damn well.". Kyle went silent, again the look of puzzlement on his greying face, as the memories came back through the haze, making him wonder why the certainty he had felt back then had suddenly vanished. Jim on the other hand grabed his Lasgun again and took another look to the amplivisor before he looked over to Becky "You comming? Because the Greenies will definitly sooner or later" and started to walk away before she even answered, deep down already knowing that she would stay.

It was two weeks of constant hide and seek later, that Jim suddenly found himself staring down a lasgun as he turned away from the shelf of an empty supermarket were he had scavanged some provisions. He cursed himself for not paying enough attention, but then again, hunger made you that careless. Then again, at least those were no Greenies and as they had not shot him on sight there might still be a chance. And indeed the squad of soldiers in front of him lowered their weapons as they saw his dirty, worn down PDF uniform. They were dressed in Kakis with Shemaghs around their head, not unlike the shawl he used to wrap around his own to protect against the dust of the roads. "Hey there soldier... Got separated from your unit I guess?" the leader inquired in a kind of friendly you-sure-are-no-deserter-or-else-we-would-have-to-shoot-you-right? manner. "They are dead. I... I was trying to reach our lines." he replied and felt stupid that he did not come up with anything better. Yet while his Counterpart obviously did not believe him, he also did not seem to mind "Want to tagg along and get a ride off this hellhole? We are being pulled out and the Navy is about to blow the Greenies to pulp." Jim did not have to be asked again "... umm... sure, sounds great." "Than welcome to the Askaris, recruit!"



This minis origin lies in the comment of my wife after seeing my bag of surplus cadian arms and heads "You should totally build some guys with 3 or 4 arms!". When I told her about GSC we had a good laugh and I had the idea of Jim, who survived the end of his revolutionary cult and - after being freed from the influence of his patriarch decided to make a run for it. Being found by my homebrew regiment he tries his best to be a normal guardsman and does certainly not want to get back with his old lot just to be nomnomed by the starchildren. And his performance record is outstanding! 150% of any of his pals!

As usual excellent work and the story is great too certainly a unique character! Your unit's starting to be a bit of a mixed bag.

As it was always intended

I'm currently starting to work at some 19 woodland indians as conscript squad that will also join in.

Great work.
Looking forwards to seeing them.

Tribes and soldiers of the Thoth Askaris
Part VI, the Haudenosaunee Federation

The world Makhá (Lakota for "earth") is the second planet of a small backwater system in the Segmentum Pacificus in the immediate neighborhood of Thoth. Covered with endless seeming forests and giant plains it is only sparsely populated by some hundreds thousand natives living in tribes following the herdes of large ungulates or hunting in the forests. These tribes only recently united into a Federation called Haudanosaunee, which roughly translates to "people of the long house" meaning that they will live together and help each other like one family under one roof, regardless of their differences. This coalition was formed in response to sporadeous raids by Dark eldar hunting parties, yet even united the tribes could do little to keep the far superior armed Xenos at bay.

Their pleads to the Munitorum were futile, as the system was deemed to unimportant to bother deploying a Guard regiment as those were sorely needed elsewhere. Yet in a twist of fate their prayers were answered indirectly as the clerk in charge of the Askaris decided to respond to their latest unnerving application for more heavy tanks and equipment they cannot produce themselves by offering them the recruitment rights of Makhá, if Thoths PDF forces restored imperial dominance in the system and took care of its defence, armament and training.

While that was far from what they applied for, the Askaris are not ones that would refuse any kind of gift they can get from the Administrativum and thus hastily repurposed some of their giant orehaulers and required half of their merchant and SDF fleet to ship a first wave of troops to Makhá.
Suddenly facing half a million derermined PDF soldiers and a couple of imperial destroyers instead of isolated tribes distributed over a whole planets surface the Dark Eldar were forced to retreat without their bounty and even suffered some unexpected losses. Meanwhile it could be said that while the Askaris are undoubtly not on par with the battle efficiency of most guard regiments, their PDF is almost on the same level, which is quite good for PDF.

Since then the Haudenosaunee have been spared further attacks and are trained and armed from a garison of Askaris remaining in the northern continent, supplying their new parent regiment with hundreds of competent scouts and skirmishers.





Those minis are woodland indians from Warlord Games (the metal ones). I tried out contrast skin colors (Darkoath Flesh) which were really great. Also nice that all 19 minis in the box hat unique poses

Wow Pyro those guys look great, I love the war paint. How do they measure up?

Maybe 10% smaller and a bit slimer than Cadians, but well within tolerance for humans

I like to imagine your Askaris to have very loose fitting and airy fatigues (comfortable in desert warfare) rather than that being skin under there! The armour is going to bulk him up a bit, his base looks about half as tallso they look like they suit nicely.

Your rough riders are getting some Dakka front page love. Still looking great.

Next of some more rough riders (or Death Riders more likely). This time I got my hands on some Seraphon Cold ones. As riders I ordered Victrix Numidian Cavalry which - after a bit of leg bending and modifying the saddles a bit with greenstuff - fitted nicely on their backs. The nice shield transfers are from Little Big Men Studios.
I painted the cold ones mostly with contrast, starting with Iyanden Yellow over Gryph Hound Orange to Blood Angels red an finally Cygor Brown. The details were then done conventionelly. I also got really really fond of Darkoath Flesh and in this case two layers of Fireslayer Flesh for skin. The result really good compared to my usual approach and it is so much easier. I definitly recommend them and think the whole Contrast Color idea is a great tool to get nice results on your minis.
I also played around a bit with Tesseract glow which I also start to like a lot.

Last but not least: compared with the newer cold ones for example from the AoS dark elf sets I really like these old ones. They are just dorky cute.