#hive7

[a-40k-dad]

I’m going to find a name and a backstory for this one. But later on. Now sleep!

[a-40k-dad]

I tried... some greenstuffing left...

I think it's interesting to consider a couple of bounty hunters as a single model but ultimately I might have them on two different bases...

by gary inloes

[a-40k-dad-showcase]

AZORIAN FLUFF MASTERPOST

FORGE WORLD AZORIA — Aϱ-LXXXV

Affiliation : Adeptus Mechanicus Geological Radius : 2250 km Surface area : 15,910,000 km² Surface gravity : 7,85 m/s² (0,8g) Population : 9 billion (estimated)

World Classification : ϕ-ϱ-η Alternate Class : Knight World (House Sarrokkæn) Household Grade : Secundus 

Tithe Grade : Aptus Non Aggregate : 1,000: Aestimare : B800-C1 Production Grade : IV-Secundi

FOR ALL THOSE WHO APPRECIATE HOMEBREW LORE, HEREUNDER YOU WILL FIND THE ONGOING AZORIAN LORE CuRRENTLY BEING COMPILED INTO A SINGLE POST.

Summary :

Azoria is a Forge World of the Adeptus Mechanicus located in the Segmentum Tempestus, roughly in the middle of the triangle formed by Bakka, V'Run and Solstice. Rediscovered late M32, Azoria was originally a feudal / knight world rich in materials needed for ship-building. At first ruled by Terra, it has been transfered to Martian control at the end of M33 after the discovery by archeological expeditions of a host of strategically minor STCs. Profoundly altered by the transformation into a Forge World, Azoria's ecosystem has been all but destroyed despite the negotiation of unique conditions for the Adepus Mechanicus' take-over. Although officially run by the Adeptus Mechanicus, Azoria enjoys an unique joint-governance status, with the Fabricator-General overseeing the vast industrial zones, and a Planetary Government overseeing civil affairs. A production tax as a form of planetary-rent allowed the civil government to elevate Azoria as a thriving commercial hub for the sector and beyond.

Azoria's civil government rules over a competent and well-equiped law enforcement force spread within all its hive cities. The Adeptus Mechanicus protects its industrial zones with their legions of Skitarii. In remote plains away from the hives, the Knights of House Sarrokkæn, in vassalage to the Adeptus Mechanicus, keep sovereignty over their historical territories, called “The Wastes” by most hivers. These barren lands are populated by the Free Folk of Azoria, a parallel society living under the feudal rule of House Sarrokkæn.

Azoria is an important planet in the sector in terms of production, commerce and military might. Though the dispersed nature of its governance, and the long and difficult negotiations that lead to this arrangement resulted in the reluctance of both Terra and Mars (and by extension, Segmentum Command) to call upon Azoria for military contributions.

At the beginning of M42, Azoria issued a distress call to Bakka. Sabotage on a massive scale had taken place within the industrial areas and several Hive cities either declared themselves in open rebellion or went dark altogether. If the Skitarii and the Knights of House Sarrokkæn could clear up the industrial areas on their own, pacifying the hives or gaining access to the hives that shut off, proved another task entirely. Under the pressure of the Fabricator-General, who required the return of workers to the production facilities, the civil government had no choice but to make the call.

Transported by Naval Battlegroup Bakka's Fury, several regiments of the newly formed Spectris Cadiae and one detachment of Tempestus Scions were dispatched, alongside a regiment of the Death Korps of Krieg sent by mistake. By the time the Imperial Guard regiments had established their command posts on the desolated Azorian plains between the western border of Sarrokkæn Territory and the outskirts of Hive7, almost 5 months after the initial attacks, a formal enemy still hadn't been identified by the local defense forces.

Without clear guidance, and in the absence of an unified planetary organisation, not to mention, having to manage the expectations of the Death Korps men who were eager to lay waste to the unresponsive Hive Cities, the General Staff of the Spectres of Cadia were at a loss. Engagement-wise, troops on the ground suffered daily, morale-sapping losses during their attempts at pacifying the Hives.

Specialised in hostile environment operations and sent to Azoria under the false assumption that their presence was requested to secure the production facilities, the Spectres of Cadia were ill equipped for their urban pacification mission. They are currently still fighting an uphill battle, though Azoria definitely isn't the worst affectation in these regiments' history warfare.

The Azorian landscape in the Hives region.

The outskirts of an industrial area, weeks after the reclaiming operations lead by the Skitarii.

Early history and governance negotiations :

After being hastily incorporated into the IoM at its rediscovery, Azoria had managed to remain more or less untouched by change for a millenium, until the end of M33, when the Adeptus Mechanicus negotiated with Terra the rights to Azoria, projecting to turn it into a Forge World dedicated to the building of commerce fleets and the manufacturing of the various STCs discovered there.

At the time, Azoria, while still governed by the feudal reign of its Knightly Houses, had elevated its population and technological status to that of the smallest Hive Worlds.

The arrival of the Adeptus Mechanicus wasn’t well received and multiple conflicts ensued. The Knightly Houses of Azoria banded together, lead by House Sarrokkæn and managed, by threatening to destroys the STCs, to force Imperial authorities and the AdMech into fairer negotiations.

Out of which came the following decisions : Azoria wouldn’t become a Forge World as the Adeptus Mechanicus would have made it had they had free rein. Instead, the Adeptus Mechanicus’ implantation would not be allowed to extend over 30% of the total surface of buildable land. However, to circumvent this inconvenience, the AdMech built both deep and high on their alloted territories.

The Knights while accepting the Adeptus’ official leadership, would retain a comfortable amount of sovereignty over the Azorian people.

The civilian planetary government created especially for the newer urban areas - or hives - would also be allowed to evolve naturally, and not fall under the immediate rule of the Fabricator-General. A marginal part of the Forges’ production would also have to be ceded to the Planetary Government, as an exploitation’s tax, allowing Azoria to develop its commerce with nearby worlds.

Over the next centuries, House Sarrokkæn effectively absorbed all smaller houses and became the sole Knightly House left on the planet, ranking in to the higher tier of Grade Secundus with approximatively 300 war machines in its care.

At the dawn of M42, House Sarrokkæn still rules over a portion of the population willingly staying in “the wastes” or the non-urbanised areas found in the vicinity* of the Obsidian Keep, their ancestral homestead.

*(ca. 1.000.000 sq. km surrounded by a few hive cities and an Adeptus Mechanicus production megastructure. The closest hive to the Obsidian Keep is Hive 7)

While the House’s rule might not have changed, the level of comfort and quality of life of all from serfs to masters had tremendously improved, only to be set back by the pollution and the contamination of the planet.

The Wastes are under the jurisdiction of House Sarrokkæn and these lands are protected and policed by the House’s own army, the Milites Gregarii.

Law and order in the urban areas and hives is under the planetary governor’s jurisdication, protected by the Azorian PDF and policed by various local enforcement agencies.

Azorian economy relies on planetary and space mining, ship-building and the manufacturing of unique goods thanks to the retrieved STCs, the commerce of which with nearby worlds plays a tremendous part in Azoria’s economical growth and thus, in maintaining its privileges and independence.

HOUSE SARROKKÆN

Current Full House Crest with the motto “Parva Sub Ingenti”

“The small under the great” ; denoting the duty of protection of not only the people of the Free Territories, but also of their general interest, which has been paramount to House Sarrokkæn for over seven millenia.

Coat of Arms until the end of M33 — though not official anymore, this design is still widely in use.

Coat of Arms M34 onwards

INSERT 1 : “ARMIGER”

With a chilling mechanical wheeze, Ruinstride is clamped down onto the elevating platform. As soon as the giant becomes immobilised, cloaked figures begin scurrying about, as if they appeared out of thin air.

They engage in a ballet danced back and forth between Ruinstride and the various control panels placed on the platform. The Sacristans — responsible for the maintaining of House Sarrokkæn’s war machines — are but shadows moving in the murky, dying light of the Azorian twilight.

From within the piloting post of the Knight, very little of what happens beyond its metal shell can be heard. Not the strong, poisonous winds roaring through the desolate plains, not the noise made by the Milites Gregarii vehicles guarding the area, nor the clanking done by the ground crew at work. The pilot couldn’t hear anything other than the gentle, yet disquieting hum of the Armiger’s active systems, further intensifying the pilot’s feeling of being safely nested into a cocoon. A terrible cocoon of immeasurable might.

Sitting deep into the belly of the beast, Liwa stares at her control monitors. She is now linked to the platform’s security network and flicks through the various video feeds. There is no specific purpose in her actions, she merely passes time, waiting for the Sacristans to finish the preparations for the long ride down.

Suddenly, one of the monitors displays a communication channel opening, showing the spectrogram of the inbound signal. 

“Mistress?” inquires the Sacristan supervising the re-entry procedures. —”Ready when you are, operator.” Liwa replies, in haste. The sacristan produces a few vowels trying to begin his sentence. He stops for a second to better verbalize his thoughts with the appropriate deference. —”I’m terribly sorry if I mislead you, Mistress, but I only wished to inform you that departure will be delayed for a little while longer : Battlebound is in sight and will be travelling down with us.”

Liwa smiles for Battlebound is steered by her twin brother Leto. “Understood, operator. —Ruinstride, out.” she replies before tuning into her brother’s vox channel.

With an ever growing smile locked on her face, the young woman takes a moment to prepare her opening remark : “They told me that we had to wait for another passenger on the ride down, but I would have hoped it wouldn’t be a lowlife such as yourself.

Her satisfaction hits a high as she finds the vox’s clics a fitting punctuation for her comment. The answer comes back into the audio feed without delay :

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d swear you were trying to hurt my feelings.”

Liwa chuckles as she taps into the distant surveillance feed, tracking Battlebound’s whereabouts.

—”Not in my wildest dreams, brother.” she says.

Leto’s Armiger arrives in visual range and soon walks onto the elevating platform, taking place in front of Ruinstride. The restraining mechanism bolts the war machine down and the Sacristans begin a new dance of preparing, checking and organising.

“Anyway, what have you been doing up here today?” she inquired.

—”I’ve been working on my short-range accuracy in the south-eastern ruins” he sighs. “I learned I wasn’t as good as I thought I was because the preceptor had me retake the drills over and over again. Truthfully, this was a bit of a painful day for me.” he concludes, a hint of frustration still stuck in his throat.

“But anyway, what about you?”

—”I simply went out for a long stroll. I needed a moment alone with Ruinstride, I feel like I need to focus on my synchronisation with the machine-spirit”

The voxcaster’s incoming transmission click interrupts their chit-chat :

“Mistress, Master, we are ready to depart. Today’s descent duration will approximate 30 minutes. Your respective maintenance crews have been notified and are ready for your arrival. I hope you’ll enjoy the ride. —Operator out.”

As the voxcaster clicks signal the end of the transmission, a faint rumble can be heard from within the metal carapaces that begin to vibrate.

The young pilots experience the shivering of the platform as it begins its journey downwards. Soon they disappear into darkness, swallowed by the seemingly endless vertical tunnels running deep beneath the surface of the Wastes.

Where those lead, very few surface-dweller actually know.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE I

PRINCEPS NEFO III SARROKKÆN

High-Monarchs of House Sarrokkæn are destined to pilot the infamous “Sovereign Fury” a Dominus-pattern Knight Suit of incredibly domineering nature. Sitting at the helm of Sovereign Fury is extremely demanding as the Machine Spirit has developped a hatred of weak-minded or less-than-stellar pilots.

However, with proper tutoring, it is possible for most pilots to learn how to stay in the good graces of their steed’s Machine Spirit, for a time. Although, when the first weaknesses of age make their appearance, the Machine Spirit will invariably begin to rebel and cause glitches and malfunctions. When this happens, it signifies that it requires a new pilot, one still in his or her prime.

Upon receiving confirmation of the Machine Spirit’s desires by the sacristans, the ruling Princeps will hold an abdication ceremony and his heir apparent (or pressumtive) will be crowned Princeps of House Sarrokkæn in his  or her stead.

Usually, it doesn’t end the former Princeps’ piloting career, as he or she will usually join the ranks of the precepts of House Sarrokkæn (or choose another role if they so desire).

If a High Monarch decides to ignore the signs however, Sovereign Fury’s malfunctions will become more frequent, and more serious. If the Monarch persists and refuses to abdicate and pass on the suit to their heir, the Machine Spirit will take hold of its pilot’s mind and seriously compromise their sanity, with impairments as varied as apathy, amnesia, catatonia, dementia, coma and even, death.

Therefore, the reign of a Monarch of House Sarrokkæn is expected to end somewhere between his mid 50ies and mid 60ies. To ensure that Princeps are mature enough for their duties, if the heir to the throne is less than 25 years of age on his or her coronation day, the household is placed under regency, elected by the previous Monarch and their High Court.

Nefo II Sarrokkæn, father of the current Princeps managed to hold the reins of Sovereign Fury into his early 70ies before the first signs of the Machine Spirit’s discontentment appeared. This is definitely a rarity within the household’s long recorded history of High Monarchs.

FORMER PRINCEPS : NEFO-THE-ELDER

INSERT 2 : “Reins of Fury”

Blood pounding under the temples, the Princeps’ limbs twitched as his steed murmured directly into his mind. Not in words, but rather in a slow, continuous and menacing hum, an unnerving cybernetic growl of which he somehow could make sense.

RELEASE. ME. NOW.

The lift carrying his lance to the eastern borders of Sarrokkæn territory still was a good ten minutes away from its destination.

MAKE. US. KILL. RELEASE. THE. FURY.

Nefo tried to concentrate on his breathing, to let go of the tension in his body. His head tilted forwards has he tried to relax his tense neck. As much as he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the stiffness between his shoulder blades. An unpleasant sense of unease began to grow within his guts. Those remaining minutes promised to feel excruciatingly long.

I. AM. FIRE

The Princeps spoke softly to himself within the silence of his Knight Valiant’s cockpit. “Inhale. Hold. Exhale.” He tried to distanciate his conscious mind from the overwhelming will of the Valiant’s Machine Spirit.

I. AM. FURY.

“Just two more minutes. Just two. Two short minutes” Nefo said, those words intended as a way to keep himself focused rather than meant as an answer to the machine-voices gushing into his brain.

I. AM. SOVEREIGN.

Energy discharges started flowing from the Throne Mechanicum’s electroencephalic connectors into the Princep’s brain. A chorus of unintelligible voices faded in, seemingly creeping out from the back of his mind.

YOU. WILL. BRING. ME. TO. OUR. ENEMIES.

His Knight was unrelenting but the newly appeared chorus had become gradually clearer. Amidst their whispers, Nefo heard ghostly yet familiar voices softly speaking in unisson.

“Tune Him out”

-I know, I know! Nefo replied in the apparent loneliness of his cockpit. WE. SHALL. INCINERATE.

He is angrier than usual. WE. SHALL. OBLITERATE.

Many individual voices talked over each other for a short moment but Nefo managed to make out a few sentences out of the ghostly chaos : “You call that angry?” “You haven’t seen angry, lad.” “I’d call that eager, at most?” Nefo could swear he also heard some manic laughter in the background. Probably the ghosts of the pilots turned mad by the machine spirit, or those responsible for the machine’s spirit ill temper, depending on which part of the family lore one is enclined to believe.

“Focus on me now.” said the voice of his grandfather, who had also been his preceptor when he was but a squire in waiting of his becoming ritual.

“Tune Him out.” the spectral voice repeated.

INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE.

Nefo weakly grabbed the motion-control sticks and exhaled loudly.

“We’ve done this countless of times.”

added the memory imprint belonging to his father.

-I know.

INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCINERATE. OBLITERATE.

Nefo closed his eyes and consciously slowed down his breathing. From within his own mentalscape, he pictured a door opening. The door was so small, it could hardly let an insect through. The door flung open and brought a light into the darkness of his mind. He pictured channeling everything the Throne was feeding him through that narrow passage. As he focused on this point within his mind, the overhelming input of Sovereign Fury’s Machin Spirit trying to dominate Nefo’s brain was being slowly filtered out.

INCINERATE. OBLITERATE. INCIRATE. OBLIRATE. INRTE. OBLTRTE.

He kept his eyes closed and his mind focused on the bright dot within until the knight’s voice became but a constant hum.

INSSSS. BLLLL. IUHMMMM. BHMMMMM. MMMMM.

It is done. He is within me. I feel his needs, his desires. I will heed them, feed them : we will incinerate, we will obliterate, but it is I who holds the reigns of our Sovereign Fury once more.

The Sarrokkæn Family Branches

Each branch is lead by a Baron (or Baroness) Prime who is also part of the Princep's Exalted Court. Traditionally, the role of a Baron(ess) Prime received in court stays within the same branch. Some changes may occur, but some roles are inherently linked to certain families, for instance, the role of Forgemaster has been within the Highgate branch since time immemorial, while the Princeps of House Sarrokkæn has been stemming from Deepgarden for at least 6 millenia.

Deepgarden (Baroness Prime Gesunna, Lady of Deepgarden — Mistress of Justice)

Dimwall (Baron Prime Rikken, Lord of Dimwall — Broadhailer)

Downspire (Baron Prime Nidar, Lord of Downspire — Master Tactician)

Highgate (Baron Prime Weralt, Lord of Highgate — Forgemaster)

Tornash (Baron Prime Agleizo, Lord of Tornash — Loremaster)

Outwark* (Baron Prime Hagus, Lord of Outwark — Gatekeeper)

*The Knights of Outwark are currently on deploiment off-world, fighting wars for the Imperium, bringing glory to themselves and to House Sarrokkæn.

Breakdown of Sarrokkæn Knight numbers by pattern.

There are roughly 300 full-fledged Knights within the household, making it a high-tier Secundus-grade house. In these numbers, the smaller Armiger chassis reserved for Squires and Vindices (veteran/retired milites employed as bodyguards) are not counted. They amount for roughly an additional hundred war machines.

Traces of House Sarrokkæn history can be found in its organisation. Azoria originally counted several Knightly Houses of which The Sarrokkæn were the most influential. This influence ultimately lead to their absorbing the other smaller houses.

This was done through an alliance which fought for a better treatment by the newly-arrived planetary ruler, the Adeptus Mechanicus. Arrangements and compromises were made between the houses, among which was the construction of a fortress-city and the abandonment of all previous titles in favour of a “branch-name” to honour the memory of incorporated Households.

The names of the original noble families never were passed down in records. If they were through oral tradition, these names never were uttered again. Similarily, which branch had stemmed from the first Sarrokkæns was never disclosed.

There are however hints, that can, if not point to the right branch, at least help winnow the branches to a few plausible candidates.

One of these hints lies in the repartition of Knights through the branches. Open-records state that after the Communion of the Houses, the Warmachines were more fairly distributed among the branches. But if the rearrangement was made to be fairer, it wasn’t done equitably in the strictest sense of the term.

Some postulate that the repartition might be indication of a particular House’s original strength and influence over Azoria’s pre-Adeptus Mechanicus past. If the theory seems to hold water, there is actually no way of knowing if the Sarrokkæn, first of their name, hadn’t forseen this eventuality and chosen to forsake their former strength in an effort to make the past harder to decipher for further-away generations.

Hereunder you will find a breakdown of the Knights of House Sarrokkæn by family-branch and chasis type (including additional Armiger counts for the sake of thoroughness). It is important to note that House Sarrokkæn also possess three Acastus suits (two Porphyrion and one Asterius) which are kept deep within The Obsidian Keep's vaults. These suits are not assigned to any particular branch of the Sarrokkæn House and do not have designated pilots. The Acastus suits are considered a collective heirloom and would only be fielded under the most dire of situations.

Deepgarden (branch of Princeps Nefo and Mistress of Justice Gesunna) Questoris-Pattern : 62 Dominus-Pattern : 8 Cerastus-Pattern : 5 Armiger-Pattern : 36 Total : 75 (+36)

Dimwall (Baron Prime Rikken, Lord of Dimwall — Broadhailer) Questoris-Pattern : 26 Dominus-Pattern : 4 Cerastus-Pattern : 2 Armiger-Pattern : 16 Total : 32(+16)

Downspire (Baron Prime Nidar, Lord of Downspire — Master Tactician) Questoris-Pattern : 44 Dominus-Pattern : 6 Cerastus-Pattern : 0 Armiger-Pattern : 26 Total : 50(+26)

Highgate (Baron Prime Weralt, Lord of Highgate — Forgemaster) Questoris-Pattern : 57 Dominus-Pattern : 8 Cerastus-Pattern : 6 Armiger-Pattern : 32 Total : 71 (+32)

Tornash (Baron Prime Agleizo, Lord of Tornash — Loremaster) Questoris-Pattern : 38 Dominus-Pattern : 4 Cerastus-Pattern : 0 Armiger-Pattern : 24 Total : 42 (+24)

Outwark* (Baron Prime Hagus, Lord of Outwark — Gatekeeper) Questoris-Pattern : 32 Dominus-Pattern : 3 Cerastus-Pattern : 0 Armiger-Pattern : 16 Total : 35 (+16)

This breakdown shows that the Highgate and Deepgarden branches both hold the largest pools of Knight armours while the Outwark and Dimwall branches currently hold the smallest amount of Knights.

It is however hard to come to definitive conclusions as historically, the Knights of Highgate have been affected to the protection of the Principality and the Free Territories, as the Highgate branch can be traced to the families most invested in the design and construction of the Obsidian Keep and its subterranean network of tunnels and caves know as The Burrows.

As for Deepgarden, it is the branch of the current Princeps and a fluctuation of the number of Knights into the service of the ruling branch is a known phenomenon.

Moreover, the recent records of each branch show a slower, natural fluctuation of their strength according to inter-branch betrothal, births, number of members actually being knighted, etc.

[a-40k-dad]

60% contrasts, 20% technical, 10% shade, 10% conventional.

I’m getting better at blending everything together into my quasi-blanchitsu style of painting.

[a-40k-dad]

“Stay on your guard, Colonel,” Evjen told the young woman as the giant blast gate closed behind the last armored vehicle of their convoy. He continued, “we have now entered the Free Territories, also know as ‘The Wastes’”.

Evjen took a moment to consider the stark landscape through the narrow band of bulletproof glass. His mind wandered, trying to imagine the harshness of life out here. In principle, it was understood that the Freefolk were better off than the men, women and children striving to survive in the underhives around the planet, but he came to doubt that, and it had been a doubt that grew stronger with each trip through the outer domain of House Sarrokkæn. After sighing slowly, Evjen switched his attention back to his guest. His shoulders tensed as he noticed his hands had been clenching his knees while he was looking outside the window.

With a hint of solemnity he announced : “We have now become a high profile target for the next 250 kilometres”. Colonel Varstark remained perfectly calm as she sat in the seat in front of him. She had come to visit him at Praxcorp HQ, high in the spires of Hive7. Varstark had made a flamboyant entrance with a full wing of Valkyries. It had amused Evjen, who always had been appreciative of good showmanship. The colonel had been his guest ever since she arrived 6 days prior. The colonel spent time in Praxcorp’s tech archives, copying registeries, manuals, blueprints, basically trying to gather all the useful intel she could muster. Whenever he could spare the time, he would drop by her quarters, invite her to share a meal, or take some refreshments, during which he would answer her many questions.

Evjen could not recall the particular line of questioning that led them to The Wastes, but he remembered wanting to help the struggling outworlder navigate the intricacies of Azorian diplomatic protocols. Since House Sarrokkæn had left all her pleas unanswered, he also couldn’t resist showing off how easily he could have the big Black Gates of the Obsidian Keep open up for her. Evjen knew that vanity had a play in his course of actions and though he had learned to live with it, he had a hard time brushing off the tickling presence of guilt from his mind.

The guardswoman absently observed the landscape shifting from the more or less functional industrial grid maintenance highways to the barren realms of corroded stone and grey dirt. Surprised by the absence of reaction to his previous statement, Evjen scratched his chin. He realised soldiers of the Imperium probably didn’t care much for raiders, senior officers least of them. His eyes lingered on the Colonel’s facial scars. He noticed the fairness of her complexion under them. He snapped out of this examination when he met her green eyes coldly staring through him.

“Are you sure we couldn’t just fly there?” she asked in thinly veiled irritation.

Evjen shrugged “Unfortunately, if the Astra Militarum desire to achieve any kind of entente with the Knights of House Sarrokkæn, you’ll have to take the long way in” Evjen said. “To enter the Obsidian Keep from the low roads is a required display of humility.” he explained. “This is why they wouldn’t grant you an audience even when you agitated your mandate as Planetary Operations Commander.”

“I’ve seen whole worlds brought to heel for less of an obstruction to His Will” She retorted, nostrils flaring.

Evjen clicked his tongue “It’s not that simple, colonel,” he said, his face taking on the glow of inconvenience. “Don’t forget that we are technically on a world run by the Adeptus Mechanicus, though they only care about their industrial zones and leave the Hive Cities to their own devices,” the man frowned and squinted as he weighed the words still in his head. After a moment he warily enunciated : “as such, for better or worse, on this world, the Emperor of Mankind is not as revered, or feared, as he might be elsewhere”.

The colonel crossed her arms, her face shut like barracks well after lights out. “I know, mister Praxi” she snapped in disdain. “I’ve been stationed here long enough to understand that Azorians enjoy a level of leniency that I never thought possible”.

“Do you envy that?” Evjen asked.

Her eyes widened through vexation. Her breath, temporarily suspended. She swallowed the knot forming at the back of her throat and resumed her breathing. After a few long seconds, she muttered tentatively “Perhaps”. The armored truck rumbled over the accidented terrain, the muffled sound of the engine almost covering her excessively honest answer. “It might be a luxury I would be inclined to tolerate for civilians”. She said. “But from the members of a Knightly House, I expect no less than devotion”.

Evjen chuckled. “Soon enough you’ll realise that what they lack in orthodoxy, they make up for with their integrity and honourable conduct upon the fields of battle,” Evjen assured. “After all, Segmentum Command deemed House Sarrokkæn worthy enough for a deployment alongside the Lord Commander of the Imperium Himself”.

The Colonel could see through the self-reassuring bravado.

“I’m not the Inquisition, mister Praxi” she said with a soft smile. “I do not condemn those who simply seek to lead a life in peace”. The truck’s imposing wheels bounced on a few big rocks on the road. The passengers shifted their bodies to absorb the unexpected bump. Evjen smiled

“It’s Evjen. Please call me Evjen.” “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep things professional” she said. “It’s cultural, colonel Varstark ; last names are of little value on Azoria, unless it is Sarrokkæn, of course. But even among them, a given name holds more importance than the names marking lineage.” Evjen declared.

“So what, I’m expected to address them by their given names?” she asked, irritated.

“Yes,” Evjen chuckled. “preceded by the proper title, but yes.”

The colonel remained silent, arms crossed once more. She held her nose high, pointed towards the window pane. For a moment her face seemed to be the theatre of operations of a large battle between different emotional states : disdain, resentment and disgust seemed to vie for control, but when out of nowhere, reluctance appeared, Evjen felt surrender wasn’t far away.

“Kuh-rina” she sighed. “It is spelled K-R-I-N-A” she added, tight lipped.

With a joyful smirk, Evjen extended his hand across the gap between their two seats. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Krina” he laughed. She shook his hand without much conviction. She found the exchange awkward but if it had been the price to pay to open up a communications channel with House Sarrokkæn, she was willing to oblige. 

The Guard needed the support of the Knights in the coming battles.

[a-40k-dad]

@rabidchilde @titanicus-mechanicus @valiantbionicrope, @pulmonary-poultry

Here’s the choice I made : kept the cog but still made the neck longer, so we have a bit the best of both ideas. Once the greenstuff has cured on the neck I’ll make another pass to correct its shape. I’ll leave it to rest for the day before I do that, then another 12 hours to fully cure before I start painting it.

The Admech of Azoria are a weird bunch and the Fabricator General is a bit of a testament to that. I got inspired by some of the whackier Blame! creatures.

[a-40k-dad]

Deeper analysis of the Milites Gregarii :

Conscripts : every able citizen of the free territories between 16 and 70 years of age, who is able and has received basic training may be called upon to defend their land. This represents tens of millions that can be drawn from the ranks of serfs, merchants, artisans... The use of conscripts is however extremely rare although when the Milites Gregarii needs to bolster its ranks to replace casualties of a recent battle for instance, young citizens who recently completed basic-training may be offered a paid, renewable 5 year contract. Few refuse the opportunity to become part of the warrior class as it yields many advantages to themselves and to their families.

Pedites : professional army trained to serve alongside the different branches of House Sarrokkæn, composed by circa 120.000 men-at-arms, it is organised in different units assigned to High Barons. The pedites cover various roles (reconnaissance, mobile infantry, heavy weapons units, line infantry, etc).

Vigiles : After at least 10 years of service in the Pedites, a Miles can apply for a transfer into the Vigiles, the urban peace-keeping branch of the Milites Gregarii operating within the cities of the Free Territories. The Vigiles also take on a fair amount of other responsibilities, usually administrative. Given their experience as soldiers, the militant part of the Vigiles is also expected to be an efficient reaction force to any type of invasion or attack. (ca. 150.000 men-at-arm, including less-abled veterans)

Reeves and Rangers : Outside the walls of the boroughs, life can be tough. The smaller settlements of the territories that have developped around remote knight-deployment gates or around farming cave systems are prey to more agressive criminals, rejects of society, or worse still, gangers from the nearby hives venturing into the wasteland to pillage and terrorise the people of the Free Territories.

To ensure their safety, a body of voluntary troopers has been created. These men-at-arms are drawn from the ranks of experienced pedites and vigiles. Aside from their peace-keeping missions in the settlements within their respective jurisdictions, each Ranger unit has the mandate to hunt and eliminate threats as they see fit. Thanks to accords with the Planetary Governor’s Office, they are also allowed to hunt down wanted perpetrators outside of the Free Territories and into the Hive Cities if they so decide.

Rangers rely on fast and manoeuvrable vehicles to patrol between the different settlements within their jurisdiction and make full use of their military training to fulfil their peace-keeping mission in the remote, frontier parts of the Free Territories. In case of a full-scale invasion, they are expected to act as LRRPs.

The Rangers of each district are lead by an appointed Reeve who acts like an administrative officer for a grouping of settlements.

(ca 30.000 troopers)

Milites Nobiles : These are not members of the Milites Gregarii intrinsincally, as they are non-pilot nobles of the various Sarrokkæn branches. However they often can be  seen occupying various key-roles, either because they take-up command of individual squads or regiments during times of need or because they fancy themselves as officers of the Milites in a more permanent manner.

The position of Reeve for instance, is one often filled by these Nobles-at-arms.

Milites Nobiles are recogniseable by their wearing of any variation of the coat of arms of House Sarrokkæn. Their personal bodyguards also wear the coat of arms, albeit in a simplified scheme.

[a-40k-dad]

Sablescythe : Baron Weralt Sarrokkæn’s Knight Gallant.

At its feet : two Milites Gregarii of House Sarrokkæn get ready for battle.

[a-40k-dad]

Malevolent #2 pt1

(the following is maybe 1/3rd of what I have imagined for this new chapter)

“The big one, at one o’clock high. Do you see it?”

Aerin takes a quick look towards the asteroid field.

“Yes.“ “That’s where we are going”.

“Understood”.

Evjen allows his back to rest into his seat. “They are hidden on the other side, waiting for us” he utters, before exhaling sharply through the nose. “Their ship has a ventral docking bay, big enough for us to land”.

While focused on her approach, Aerin can’t help twitching her eyes to the side, in an attempt to try and gauge the situation by the look on Evjen’s face. He never was too big on dispensing the details but this time he is being particularly ungenerous.

“Dock while maintaining vox-silence. I don’t want any stray signals” he orders.

As they pass on to the other side of this huge space rock, the target ship appears on the Mally’s scopes. To the naked eye, it is still but a dot easily mistaken for one of the smaller asteroids in the background.

Aerin inhales slowly as she builds up the courage to speak.

“Would you care to tell me what we are doing here? Who are these people, you — one of the most powerful man on the whole Emperor-damned planet — have to meet behind a rock the size of a hive city?”

Evjen stares into the monitors as he tries to bring the necessary order to his thoughts in order to formulate an answer. “They’re pirates” he mumbles after a moment of silence. “Thieves, criminals, debased scum, sure, but yet resourceful.”

“They do have a voidship” Aerins comments.

“Yes. But they also have contacts with certain, special people outside of our system. People who, they claim, can find anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes.” Evjen continued without pause : “I wanted something very special and they asked around for me. Naturally they asked those special people I mentionned. Turns out one of them quickly found what I needed and the friendly pirates have arranged a meeting between me — or rather, us — and this, shall I call, artefact finder.”

“Who are these special people?”

“I have my suspicions but I don’t like it. Not one bit.” he declares. “Anyway, I have brought payment for the pirates, but I haven’t been told what this finder requires for his or her troubles. This might be tricky. This is why I needed you. Because I know I can count on your discretion and, if my dealings with this person fail miserably, I also know I can count on your sizeable set of other abilities”

Aerin knows better than to push this line of questioning any further, for now at least. Instead, she contemplates the story she’s just been told while observing the pirates’ ship which is now much bigger through the cockpit’s window. It was a modified freighter, similar ships can be found in countless amount in the system : bringing supplies, shipping off cargo to the sub-sector’s commercial hubs, they are so common that she can’t help but approve this choice for a ship engaging in illegal activities.

It is in a state of disrepair, but nothing out of the ordinary. Captains push their crews and their ships to the last limits and accidents are rather frequent. The modifications however, those, she feels, are too obvious. Heavy ordnance and laser turrets slapped onto a cargo ship, it isn’t very discreet nor elegant. Then again, they didn’t have the limitless budget of her passenger and benefactor. 

The Malevolent slows down as Aerin steers it towards the ventral docking bay of the Pirate’s freighter. She manoeuvres the Mally backwards into the landing area. An uncommon procedure, especially since there is barely any room for Evjen’s Guncutter, but she manages to land it smoothly. Evjen frowns at her intricate piloting. “Much easier to get out of here this way” she explained. Evjen’s frown leaves the way to a conniving smile. As Aerin turns off the engines, she notices armed men running onto the docking area.

“Don’t worry about it” reassures Evjen as he lifts one of the bags he brought with him. “They’re probably here to escort us to the bridge” he wheezes. The bag must be heavier than she thought.

They both stand in front of the Mally’s rear airlock, ready to disembark. As the pressure equalises, Evjen checks his side arm, Sagitta Tenebris, a custom-made beauty of a needle-gun. Aerin looks at him, still waiting on more instructions. Having finished his weapon’s inspection, he holsters it. As the hatch starts opening, Evjen stares right into Aerin’s awaiting eyes. “Whatever happens” he insists, “you follow my lead out there.”

[a-40k-dad]

Getting there my sweets. A couple more hours I’d say, excluding the two troopers I intend to put at its feet, so let’s say 5 hours?

I could do way more and be much more thorough (adding decals and other freehand pieces, painting cables in certain colours to make it come out more etc.) but it’ll be for sometime in the future.

For now I just want to put it down, be happy with it and build the next one.

[a-40k-dad]

Trying to get a feel of how to proceed with the big guy...

[a-40k-dad]

I reworked these bounty hunter siblings. The girl got redone from the group up almost. I knew I was unto something when I picked the IG powerfist but using the charge was what nailed it.

[a-40k-dad]

Azorian Hive7 law enforcement message — wanted, dead or alive: Group of thieves and agitators wanted for :

Suspected Azorian Noble Foodbank City7 heist

Suspected WaterTower7 pure water plant heist

Creation and or support of workers’ syndicate

Creation and or support of Xenos-indifferent movements

Intimidation

Extortion

Suspected kidnapping of nobles and hive-city administrators

Suspected execution of nobles and hive-city administrators

Non-surrender

Resisting arrest

Resisting arrest having lead to injury of law officers

Resisting arrest having lead to death of law officers

Resisting arrest having lead to structural damage of Imperial buildings

Illegal food and water distribution

Corruption (monetary) of Hive 7 officials.

Corruption (of the minds) of the good people of Hive 7

[a-40k-dad]

Bounty hunter wip

[a-40k-dad]

@rabidchilde here it is! I don’t have the skills to make a cloth from scratch so I got one from the bits box and built around it. I also added a thruster. It stand a bit crooked for now because the greenstuff needs to cure, but I’ll balance the pose on the stem once everything holds.

As I seem to work in groups of 7 characters, I’ll need an additional mini for the inquisition faction, probably will end up doing some sor of small servoskull/servitor holding an inquisitorial book or something.

Tonight I’ll advance in my Praxcorp faction painting and convert the servitor. After the rest of this is done, I’ll move on to the next faction... House Sarrokkæn, House of Knights.

[a-40k-dad]

How do your OCs fight?

I’ve got plenty so I’m making a lone post with several of them. (all from the Azorian setting)

Evjen Praxi :

"I didn’t do it, nobody saw me do it, there’s no way you can prove anything.”

Colonel Krina Varstark :

Seasoned professional badass.

General J.T. Zorn

Goes planet-side at least once before ordering exterminatus, just to see for himself. But never on the field without a proper escort.

Aerin “Red” Lakx

“Touch me and that hand will never touch anything again.”