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Made in gb
Decrepit Dakkanaut


Theme for the thread https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__3eZfU8tjA

Aeons ago there were tales of a great swarm that arose in the dark of space; in that infinite black between the light of galaxies. A swarm that cried out in eerie hissing cries. One so mighty that as it evolved it surpassed its progenitor, devouring that which had given form to it and thus was able to reach new heights of existence. Where that Swarm has gone is unknown, but many worlds stare up at the skies with fear that their world could be the one upon which the Hissing Swarm makes its returning feast.

But this Swarm was not alone in the void. Countless others followed alongside, squirming their way through the infinite black as they fly toward the blazing light of a fallen emperor. And thus another swarm emerges from the black, its hunger great and its attention focused and unyielding in its desire to devour; evolve; learn and advance ever on.

As this swarm awakens the first tendrils of its long seeded vanguard are called upon. Great lords arising to guide the teeming claws and jaws of those who had hidden themselves upon wreck and hulk. Awaiting the arrival of those who would bring them closer to their sustenance or the inevitable arrival of the swarm itself.

These lords are not alone, vast alien minds of infinite age also guide the path of this swarm. Minds that see beyond the hunger, beyond the base instinctive needs of the body that forms the swarm. Who plan and pick and choose. Who steer the great fleets and lead them to richer feeding grounds and focal points of power of those who would futility stand against them.

Yes another - give me hope and encouragement - blog that works toward completing another pile of sham...potential. My Tyranids have been long abandoned and with the new Necrons on the horizon I'm energized to dip my hand back into the 40K world. However I can't in all honesty invest another £ into other armies until I give my much ignored tyranids some attention. Until I really cut down the pile of unfinished models and get them off their sprue and on bases - perhaps even apply some of the much feared paint to them for once. Only then can I move on and invest into other things without the guilt sitting over me. Plus there's some of the more expensive and exotic models that I'v been eyeing for years now that I really think I should focus on working toward owning rather than always dreaming of it and letting smaller side projects steam the money away.
And yes inspired partly by Hissy the Hivetyrants blog and her Swarm - wherever they might be feeding.

So yes provide your biomass, your advice, your tips, your encouragement and your aid to this endeavour.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2020/05/30 22:30:22

Made in gb
Buttons Should Be Brass, Not Gold!

Norn Iron


Made in us
Ultramarine Master with Gauntlets of Macragge

Upstate, New York

I have also heard the call of the Hive Mind. I look forward to seeing what what your splinter achieves.

All we want is snacks and hugs. Is that so wrong?

Ultramarines, 3rd Co. and friends, 13K+ Slowly growing 3Kish
Nevelon's Workbench: Ultramarines, Saim-Hann and other assorted oddities

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Made in ca
Tail-spinning Tomb Blade Pilot

Always love to watch a new army start up! Or, well, re-start.

Made in ca
Damsel of the Lady

drinking tea in the snow

I'm always ready to offer encouragement! Plus tyranids have some of the most fun possible color schemes, i think (since it can really be just about anything) so i'm looking forward to seeing what you do with that.

realism is a lie
Made in gb
Decrepit Dakkanaut


As the vast hive ships float through the silence of deep space and the broods begin to awaken, the alien intelligence that is the Hive Mind starts to stir anew within this swarm.

New genetic understanding is passed through the invisible threads of the Hive Mind to the Queen nestled deep within the protective shell of the greatest of the ships of the fleet. As torpid limbs slowly stretch; as eyes flutter and senses beyond human understanding steadily awaken the Queen begins her true purpose within the swarm.

First old gene sacs are cleared; old ideas reworked and renewed. The very internals shifting and changing; a great gurgling of fluids rushing to swell new organs and bring life to the great breeding sacs. Within the great womb of the ship a new swarm begins to be created.

Today's update is smaller and mostly focused around sorting out what I actually have. Clearing through boxes of old sprue and parts. I've now started using those little resealing plastic bags to put parts into. Sorting them so that they've rough categories to make them easier to find things if I want too. It was time well spent as I went from two of those old Battleforce boxes of random bits and sprue - down to just a handful of bags in a draw.
So not so much a day of construction, but certainly one that has been productive in clearing up and getting organised.

That said today wasn't all good, my great sorting was spurred by my desire to finally build the first generation zoanthrope that I'd bought a while back. Which remains elusive and still hiding - I suspect bundled into a box of other models which will turn up when I'm not looking for it.

Made in gb
Decrepit Dakkanaut


As time passes the great Queen broods over the soups, sacs and eggs within the great Hive Ship. New sequences of genetics from countless worlds torn apart by other Hives has been passed to her through the Hive Mind. However as any creature of such vast age knows, perhaps as a mind on its own; as part of the great single mind of the Hive or perhaps on a level beyond thinking and purely instinctive. Within her very core this creature knows that to step forward one must look back.

Thus old genetics are reviewed; old ideas revisited. Seeking for any grain of truth; any hint of superior genetics led astray in the rapid evolution and development of others. Within the countless genetic records that are stored and held within the Hive Mind. For it forgets nothing, no creature it encounters, no creature it creates. No part of itself is forgotten.

Yep dug out the old books! Seeing them all together makes me realise a few things
1) I really should get hold of a second edition codex (Tyranids didn't appear in first edition as an army) to complete the set.

2) They have gone up in price, but much of the lore parts have grown. They've also gained full colour and gone hardback along the way too.

3) I'm actually half tempted to want to get a collectors edition of the next book - even though GW charges double price for basically a different cover and not really much else.

4) The Fourth Generation has the best cover!

There's so much in that I really wish we got to see from GW. First up the Carnifex looks like it was sculpted out of resin rather than plastic, showing off loads of fine detail and structure to the bone that really brings it to life far more than the boxy bone designs we often get with plastics.
Then there's the hormagaunts - only a slight rework to get a bit more spiked on their edges; losing their hooves for rear blades and overall looking super fast and spiky and deadly.

Then there's the smaller creatures. The little spiders that I believe are almost crawling toxin sacs. Ready to bite into limb and muscle and deliver that powerful toxin direct into the Tyranids body; blending with its natural powers to enhance them. An idea both horrific to those outside and yet perfectly fitting with the adaptive nature of the Swarm.

Finally we get a great look at Tyranid architecture - both in the foreground as we see gaunts emerging from the corrupted ground and in the background. A vast spire that looks likely to be a huge capillary tower. Far more mature than the spiked towers that FW made years ago; this looks like its a tower that likely rises all the way to the orbiting Hive Ship above.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2020/06/05 21:57:30

Made in ch
Warped Arch Heretic of Chaos

Ahh a fellow Motivation seeker to corrupt!

Good luck for that

A Mostly Renegades and Heretics blog.

 Daedalus81 wrote:

In the 41st millennium there is only overpriced hamberders.

Made in us
Ultramarine Master with Gauntlets of Macragge

Upstate, New York

3rd was the nadir of lore in codexes. There were a few gems in there, but they were very rules dense, fluff light.

Your post inpired me to drag out my old codexes and have a read over my weekend coffee. I’ve got the 2nd and 3rd eds. Didn’t even think of playing nids at the time, but grabbed a bunch of old codexes when 3rd dropped for the lore (which was amazing) and the 3rd ones were reasonably priced, so I was picking them all up to help new players/know my foes.

Ironicly, my marine collection looks like your ‘Nid one. Missing the Ultramarine 2nd ed codex, but all the rest. Finding a copy is on my list of things to do eventually.

Ultramarines, 3rd Co. and friends, 13K+ Slowly growing 3Kish
Nevelon's Workbench: Ultramarines, Saim-Hann and other assorted oddities

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Made in gb
Decrepit Dakkanaut


Report from the siege of Hive Tower Epsion of Cronus 3 - Day 34 of Tyranid Invasion.

As the twin suns rose in the west they came once again toward the towering Hive City and its sprawling shanties. A vast cloud of thick spore thrust into the air by large Tyranids as they ran in time with a teeming mass of lesser gaunts. Hoofed food and clawed talon churning the ground into a roiling dust cloud that further hazed the air like a thick mist around them. No cries of screams; no battle charge of defiance like orks. Just a droning thunder of the advancing storm.

The ground is a dry wasteland of craters. The continual rise and fall of mounds and trenches. A testament to the artillery of the 43rd Regiment and their continual staunch defence of the Hive City. Indeed all that holds back their fire is awaiting the command; waiting for spotters to ensure that the advancing swarm is a true swarm and not a faint. Once spy-lenses set far into the path of the enemy spot the approaching swarm from under the thick bed of the cloud, the vox casters scream into life as orders fly from command. The great guns angle, pitch and spew out fire and black smoke. Roaring their defiance into the air and thrusting forth a vast wall of shells that arch into the air. Tearing through the thick spore before erupting as they strike the ground. Bodies, bone, blood, chitchin and earth are throw into the air. Vast plumes of fire as the shells explode and tear into the swarm. They are not enough to stop the swarm, but they are enough to shatter the wall of bodies; to tear into the biggest and leave the swarm splintered into smaller tendrils of charging gaunts. All the easier for guardsmen in the trenches to open fire. The crack of lasguns lighting the air with red beams; of auto guns thudding and tanks unleashing their bolters. The main cannon and rocket launchers wait for the hints of larger spore spewing creatures to emerge before picking them out from the swarm. Focusing on those giants to shatter what remaining unity there is for the swarm.

The line holds. Whilst some make it to the first line of staggered trenches, they do not make it past. Guardsmen are lost, heroes are born and cowards die. The line holds and as the twin suns vanish behind the great shadow of the Spire the swarm retreats. Or rather the tide ceases to be reinforced and the last stragglers continue their futile charge against the Imperium's guns. Though its only a respite the guard lick their wounds, distribute ammunition and rotate in fresh troops. Bold scouts risk venturing into the abused landscape, setting fresh traps and spycams to watch for the next swarm.

Day 35

A day that starts like any other during the defence of the Spire. The air thickens with spore; the ground shakes with hooves and the whole battlefield shakes with the thunder of artillery.

But today there's something different; today a new horror approaches. Something that strides just tall enough for its spires to be seen above the low haze of the dust and spores. Spires overgrown with thick armour so much so that they no longer spew forth spores into the air. The ground pounded under thick hoof as the beast ploughs forward heedless of falling shells or the undulating terrain beneath it. The great beast draws further and further forward; advancing beyond the reach of the main body of the cloud. Great artillery guns try first. Their shells screaming down. The beast shrugs off the first shell that strikes home on its thick plated back. Armoured chitchin scorched and scratched, yet refusing to yield. After the first strike the beast changes its behaviour as it digs its scythes into the ground. Throwing its body to the side in lighting fast dodges that defy its great bulk.

As it closes with the trenches the artillery are forced to relent their pounding. A leman russ turns its turret and fires a shell, the cone shaped tip hurtling forward only to glance on a fore section of armour; bouncing off to thud wastefully into gaunts. A second shot strikes home, a chunk of armour is dented but nothing more; whilst desperate guardsmen fire their lasguns, the light not even scorching the beasts hide. Up close one can see the strain on this great body put on it by the charge; its armoured underbelly exposing thick corded muscles stretched painfully thin as they are forced to move the great bulk forward.

Closer and closer it comes, its body ploughing through ever more panicked fire to bring it down. A tank direct in its path readies; the valiant crew taking careful aim for the beasts back; the turret holding fire until the last possible moment; hoping that a point blank shot will have enough force to finally penetrate the armour.
As the beast strides over the trenches as if they were not there the tank unleashes a shot, milliseconds after its barrel is reduced to slag as acid spews forth from the beast. The shell never leaves the tank. Instead it erupts within in a deafening blast that takes the rest of the magazine and the tank along with it. A huge fireball that sends out a powerful shockwave into the air around it.

For a few moments dust and ash are all that can be seen whilst crimson flames burn in the heart where the tank once stood. Then striding forth; fire licking at its form, the beast emerges. It's armour black, its belly scorched and muscles burned; but its body works still. It's pace is unchanged and its great scything arms swing.

Tanks, walls, sandbags, wire, guardsmen. All are swept aside by its blades; ground under hoof or crushed by its vast jaws. It's great weapon spewing acid and bathing anything it touches in a toxic sludge.

The line is broken and in its wake the swarm spills into the trenches. Running along their length unopposed. No more the regimented lines can hold them back. No more can the artillery shatter the swarm. Today the tide will not change; today it will not relent. Today the tide comes ever more to flood the shanties and lower levels. To run up against the great walls of the spire. And thus begins the long drowning and devouring of the Spire.

So I might have broken my "no models until you finish something darn it" policy this week. In my defence the hand drill I ordered managed to somehow transform into a rasp for horse feet.... so I've got to return that and try getting a proper hand drill to take 5mm drills.
That and a certain other hobby event that transpired this week resulted in me purchasing a beauty that arrived today and which prompted that bit of writing up above (can anyone guess what beasty it is)

Made in gb
Decrepit Dakkanaut


Reference material that was transmitted to orbital stations prior to defeat at Cronus 3.

I utterly love the detailing and muscle connections on this beast. It really brings the chest and lower body to life, whilst the under-connected tissue beneath the armour plates brings them to life in a way that often we don't get outside of artwork for the Tyranids. A sense that the whole armoured body is very highly mobile under that super thick chitin armour.

Beautiful detailing work and I'm looking forward to getting the big beast fully assembled. Still not sure if I want to leave any parts off to aid painting (it will certainly not be attached to its base until after painting to allow easy access to its underside.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2020/06/23 23:40:28

Made in us
Ultramarine Master with Gauntlets of Macragge

Upstate, New York

Did you pick up a fun little chunk of FW resin? One of the Heirodules? Stabby or shooty?

Ultramarines, 3rd Co. and friends, 13K+ Slowly growing 3Kish
Nevelon's Workbench: Ultramarines, Saim-Hann and other assorted oddities

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