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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 21:21:41
Subject: Death Guard Successor Army
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Giggling Nurgling
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I am about to undertake in scrapping my current chaos space marine army and starting a new Nurgle-themed army. They are supposed to be Death Guard successors/splinter group/ whateveryouwannacallit and I am planning on heavy conversions, kitbashing, and basing (which I have never really been into, but I want this army to look kickass on the tabletop.) I have written a fluffy / still competitive list, but need helping coming up with names.
I was looking for help in creating an army name, name for my army's lord, and a name for the terminator elite of the army. Any cool ideas for themes or icons to spread throughout the army would work fine. I am currently on page 49 of writing a short story about the army, just for fun because I like backstory, and am planning to do a WIP thread in the appropriate section once I start.
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That's about it. Fire away!
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 21:25:44
Subject: Re:Death Guard Successor Army
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Savage Khorne Berserker Biker
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I would like to read this backstory that you speak of, then I might get an idea of what you're looking for in the names of your units.
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It is the 3rd Millennium. For more than a hundred months Games Workshop has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Nottingham. It is the foremost of wargames by the will of the neckbeards, and master of a million tabletops by the might of their inexhaustible wallets. It is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with business strategies from the early Industrial Revolution Age. It is the Carrion Lord of the wargaming scene for whom a thousand veteran players are sacrificed every day, so that it may never truly die. Yet even in its deathless state, GW continues its eternal vigilance. Mighty battleforce starter-sets cross the online-store-infested miasma of the internet, the only route between distant countries, their way lit by a draconian retail trade-agreement, the legal manifestation of the GW's will. Vast armies of lawyers give battle in GW's name on uncounted websites. Greatest amongst its soldiers are the Guardians of the IP, the Legal Team, bio-engineered super-donkey-caves. Their comrades in arms are legion: the writing team and countless untested rulebooks, the ever vigilant redshirts, and the writers of White Dwarf, to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from other games, their own incompetence, Based Chinaman - and worse. To support Games Workshop in such times is to spend untold billions. It is to support the cruelest and most dickish company imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of sales discounts and Warhammer Fantasy Battle, for so much has been dropped, never to be re-published again. Forget the promise of cheaper digital content and caring about the fanbase, for in the GW HQ there is only profit-seeking, Space Marines and Sigmarines. There is no fun amongst the hobby shops, only an eternity of raging and spending, and the laughter of former employees who left GW to join better companies. |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 21:29:02
Subject: Death Guard Successor Army
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Giggling Nurgling
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Oooh I would do that but it's not finished yet. Here's part though:
The hooded figure strode with purpose through the muggy swamp, carving a straight path towards his destination. The fog parted before him as though fearful of his overwhelming presence. The splashing of murky water mingled with the wet squelches of mud as he crossed the uneven banks of the blasted wetlands. Large trees of thick knotted trunks stretched around him for miles, letting little of the admittedly sparse sunlight of this world penetrate the leafy cover. As such, the area was bathed in an unearthly greenish tinge of murky darkness. The figure patiently yet purposefully marched on through the marsh, intent on returning to his underlings.
Nearing his destination, several chittering nurglings clinging to his armoured bulk detached themselves and scurried into one of the small openings leading to the caverns hidden underfoot. He paid them no heed, caring not of the tribulations of such lesser beings. His baroque armour rippled, as though the stark bone colour of his terminator plate was not completely fixed in the current space it occupied. His ghoulish helm tap tapped against his leg, chained to his belt along with several skulls, icons, and censers full of the noxious gas filling the swamp. He carried his large scythe in his right hand, punctuating every other step with a second, quieter squelch as its wooden haft sank into the ground. The wicked curve of his manreaper glinted darkly as what little light there was glinted off of its semi-metallic obsidian blade.
The figure, eyes level, observed as his destination loomed out of the fog as though suddenly cast into being from the whims of some mad god. Its form became more and more clear as he stalked towards it. It resolved itself into what appeared to be a large bunker set into the swamp. As he marched up to the bunker, he paused, looking at the fortress opening for but a moment before continuing. The armoured bulkhead framing the door was a brutish, blunt, yet no doubt effective structure, unadorned with petty decoration or icons of idolatry. He paused before the entrance, rapping thrice against the fixture with his ceramite-covered fist. Almost instantly, a hiss sounded, followed by a baritone rumble as the door parted neatly in the center, revealing a long dark hallway as sparse of decoration internally as the stronghold was externally. Low-light lanterns hung from chains on the ceiling, casting a ruddy orange glow that flickered and wavered down the hall. He entered as the thick, gloomy fog wreathed his form, giving him the appearance of some spectral wraith of legend.
As he crossed the threshold, the two guards standing on the inside of the doorway slammed the hafts of their large executioner axes on the ground and knelt, respectful of their liege lord who strode past them. Their terminator armour marked their status of his elite cadre of warriors, the _____. He paid them little heed as well, even as they fell in step behind him, flanking his sides with axes held straight up in a somewhat ritualistic pose. He paused to don his armoured helmet, the skull-like visage framing his gaunt face. As his helmet’s auto senses adjusted and linked to his armour’s systems, the lenses glowed a dark ochre orange.
Beneath the vision of death that was his skull mask, the lord of the ______ let a feral grin cross his features as he strode forth once more. He was home, and there was much to do.
* * *
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 21:54:33
Subject: Re:Death Guard Successor Army
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Savage Khorne Berserker Biker
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I like the story so far!  A few suggestions for the names: For the army "rotting pestilence", for the HQ " Lord of affliction", and for the termie squad " the scourge" or my favorite "the exhumed". Keep it up, this sounds like an awesome project.
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It is the 3rd Millennium. For more than a hundred months Games Workshop has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Nottingham. It is the foremost of wargames by the will of the neckbeards, and master of a million tabletops by the might of their inexhaustible wallets. It is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with business strategies from the early Industrial Revolution Age. It is the Carrion Lord of the wargaming scene for whom a thousand veteran players are sacrificed every day, so that it may never truly die. Yet even in its deathless state, GW continues its eternal vigilance. Mighty battleforce starter-sets cross the online-store-infested miasma of the internet, the only route between distant countries, their way lit by a draconian retail trade-agreement, the legal manifestation of the GW's will. Vast armies of lawyers give battle in GW's name on uncounted websites. Greatest amongst its soldiers are the Guardians of the IP, the Legal Team, bio-engineered super-donkey-caves. Their comrades in arms are legion: the writing team and countless untested rulebooks, the ever vigilant redshirts, and the writers of White Dwarf, to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from other games, their own incompetence, Based Chinaman - and worse. To support Games Workshop in such times is to spend untold billions. It is to support the cruelest and most dickish company imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of sales discounts and Warhammer Fantasy Battle, for so much has been dropped, never to be re-published again. Forget the promise of cheaper digital content and caring about the fanbase, for in the GW HQ there is only profit-seeking, Space Marines and Sigmarines. There is no fun amongst the hobby shops, only an eternity of raging and spending, and the laughter of former employees who left GW to join better companies. |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 23:27:11
Subject: Death Guard Successor Army
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Giggling Nurgling
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I'm still juggling ideas around, I wanted to paint the bare metal of the battleaxes the terminators wield and the lord's manreaper with black with coats of gloss varnish, so it gleams black like obsidian, and have them make their weapons from this lightless ore that is mined from the plague planet they live on. In the story, there is a flashback where the lord is granted a vision by nurgle while his warband is lost, scattered, and depleted, and he gets directions to this planet where they eventually settle, and this ore makes their weapons strong. So the weapons would be glossy black, and also the armour trim of the terminators, and the armour of the lord would be this glossy black also. The Obsidian Guard sound kinda cool, but I don't really like the original legion names that had Guard in them, and it doesn't sound very chaos-y. Obsidian something is what I am leaning towards, however.
But Blackwraiths as the terminator elite would be cool, because they use the obsidian on their armour, as well as the proxy of mortarion having been the grim reaper as well.
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/23 23:40:56
Subject: Re:Death Guard Successor Army
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Savage Khorne Berserker Biker
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I know this sounds a little too simple, but how about "The Black Death" for the army name....
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It is the 3rd Millennium. For more than a hundred months Games Workshop has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Nottingham. It is the foremost of wargames by the will of the neckbeards, and master of a million tabletops by the might of their inexhaustible wallets. It is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with business strategies from the early Industrial Revolution Age. It is the Carrion Lord of the wargaming scene for whom a thousand veteran players are sacrificed every day, so that it may never truly die. Yet even in its deathless state, GW continues its eternal vigilance. Mighty battleforce starter-sets cross the online-store-infested miasma of the internet, the only route between distant countries, their way lit by a draconian retail trade-agreement, the legal manifestation of the GW's will. Vast armies of lawyers give battle in GW's name on uncounted websites. Greatest amongst its soldiers are the Guardians of the IP, the Legal Team, bio-engineered super-donkey-caves. Their comrades in arms are legion: the writing team and countless untested rulebooks, the ever vigilant redshirts, and the writers of White Dwarf, to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from other games, their own incompetence, Based Chinaman - and worse. To support Games Workshop in such times is to spend untold billions. It is to support the cruelest and most dickish company imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of sales discounts and Warhammer Fantasy Battle, for so much has been dropped, never to be re-published again. Forget the promise of cheaper digital content and caring about the fanbase, for in the GW HQ there is only profit-seeking, Space Marines and Sigmarines. There is no fun amongst the hobby shops, only an eternity of raging and spending, and the laughter of former employees who left GW to join better companies. |
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/24 00:18:25
Subject: Death Guard Successor Army
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Giggling Nurgling
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So for the armor of the Plague Marines I'm going for a dirty bone color, just bone with a bit of drybrushed dirt on the legs/feet, with a wash on the bolts for little rust trails, with the trim being glossy black. Metal parts, like the backpack, bolters, chains and such will be dark bronxe with Nihilakh Oxide wash for a brighter highlight.
The Blackwraiths will be the inverse, with glossy black armour and dirty bone trim, metal being the same, except for the metal of the weapons which will also be glossy black.
As for the weapons, I decided the pitted and decayed Nurgle Axes won't really do it for me, as the overall theme is worshippers of nurgle with little obvious external corruption on the armour/weapons, except for the rusty metal.
That being said, I can't really find good "executioner style" axes, and by this i mean long and broad blades on them.
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![[Post New]](/s/i/i.gif) 2013/12/26 20:24:02
Subject: Death Guard Successor Army
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The Last Chancer Who Survived
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Okay!
Normal nurgle/plague marine: Gutbag, Cyphillia, Canker, Herbert.
Sorcerer: Pox-caster
Powerfist-equipped guy: Rotfist, Bludgeon, Gripper
Rhino: The Hearse, Coffin (pun intended  )
Heldrake: Bilewing
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