#tyrant siege terminators

[front-line-head-line]

Thought of the Day: To fault the Emperor's Word is an act of sedition

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Tyrant Siege Terminator Commission by Bobot073

[matthewmorgan]

Last set of Tyrant Siege Terminators for my Iron Warriors.

Iron Within… Iron Without

[gasha40k]

The last post was supposed to be a lot longer, but it got cut off because Tumblr is made of rocks. I’ve got a bit more to share, starting with a little bit of progress on World Eaters.

Finally got my hands on this guy again. I only need two more models to finish my World Eaters character collection: Azrakh the Annihilator and Angron. I also saved the Juggernaut body from my first Invocatus so soon I’ll have a Lord on Juggernaut as well

The fluff behind Lord Invocatus is so excessively metal that I can’t help but love it. The mental image of Avocado here galloping across the sky on a bridge of smoke and flame is one of the most raw things I think I am capable of imaging. That being said, the model is, like, very disappointingly not on fire, even if it’s still a banger model. I felt that this was a horribly missed opportunity, so I went about and built a reposed Invocatus with an added 3D fire effect from Deadly Print Studios to represent the bridge of flames. I’m really happy with this! Not only does the repose make him look larger and more ferocious, but the fire makes him look like the centerpiece that he should be, and the visual of him and his Juggernaut leaping over a plume of flame is sure to strike fear into the hearts of whoever I field him against. Or he’ll be the biggest target on the board because of his posing, and he’ll get shot and killed immediately. We’ll find out!

In the time since my last post, I’ve also come into possession of a few new neat 3D printed models for some little projects of mine, courtesy of an Ork-playing friend. This guy here is Tyrant Siege Terminator from the Iron Warriors Legion, the Chaos Legion that my Thunderbearers claim their heritage from (not that they’d know this, though).

Making that objective marker from a few posts ago was really fun, so I made some more ideas for custom ones to use with my factions. While I don’t exactly have a plan of action regarding this guy here, I do know that I’m going to turn him into some kind of relic recovery marker. A supremely apocryphal Chapter artifact of the highest sanctity, for the eyes of the most elite Thunderbearers only. An echo from a forgotten past, a powerless demigod from a lost era, frozen in time and waiting for 10,000 years. This’ll eventually be painted in Thunderbearers regalia and draped with either creeping vines and wild overgrowth, or dust, cobwebs, and rubble. Despite its heraldry, however, this ancient armor is still noticeably a Terminator pattern utilized almost exclusively by the Iron Warriors Traitor Legion. This implies that whichever venerable forebear originally adorned this armor would’ve either been a Battle-Brother of the Chapter’s earliest shrouded histories, or a later Astartes of such grand renown that he inherited what would’ve undoubtedly been one of the Chapter’s most valuable artifacts. Regardless, it’s a neat looking piece and not something that people will glean from first glance. It’s like a little Chapter Easter egg basically for me only, and that’s cool cuz it’s my army. <3

This beefy boy will be the subject of another objective marker. After a page describing each of the Chaos Gods, 9th Edition’s Codex: Chaos Daemons includes a two-page spread detailing anecdotes about various Daemon Worlds and how exactly they’d fallen to the Gods. The above excerpt from the Khornate incursion on a Daemon World named Tartora struck me as particularly visually poignant, so this boisterous Ork is gonna get turned into a statue of brass and bone. I’ll decorate his base with various skulls and lots and lots of blood. Maybe fire, too. I think a sort of glowing red vein effect on the base might be pretty cool. I’ll use him primarily with my World Eaters. Combined with a classic skull tower that I’m gonna make at some point, that means I’ll have two objective markers for both of my armies.

Moving on, I’ve been painting my dudes in what I believe to be their final color scheme for a good long while now. I’ve even started putting transfers on some of them as of a couple loads ago. That being said, I noticed that my most up-to-date heraldry sheet was kind of total garbage, and it didn’t represent the current look of the army whatsoever. This new heraldry sheet will be my (almost) final one; the colors are all correct, the helmets are all correct, and the Chapter icon has been edited and finalized. I may change the symbol signifying Chapter Honor Guard to be a set of tilted black stripes, sorts like hazard stripes but with the yellow replaced by Wraithbone. This could be another subtle nod to the Iron Warriors heritage as black stripes are a very common pattern, which means it could rationally be either an ambiguous heraldry of visually pleasing design, or iconography from culture that’s evolved slowly over the course of 10,000 years.

On the gameplay front, I recently played my first and likely final game of Strike Force in 9th with my brother. To send out 9th and usher in 10th, the Thunderbearers and Cobalt Lancers got together again for a good old fashioned “full-scale combat simulation.” They definitely used tracer rounds or something.

Most of my games are pretty standard but this one was great fun. We had very similar army compositions, with differences only in some key areas, like armor and HQ choice. The plan for us both was to forward deploy Infiltrator squads to hunker down on objectives, since we both took our Chapter-specific action secondaries. The mission we rolled, however, had better plans, and disabled setup rules in No Man’s Land, effectively making the Phobos forward deploy completely useless. It was a really even game, likely my favorite I’ve played so far, and I realize now after playing it that 2000pts is definitely the way that 40k is meant to be played. There were a lot of cool moments, too, and I think that was mostly facilitated by the higher point limit.

A Redemptor, an Aggressor Squad, an Eversor Assassin, and a Primaris Techmarine walk into a bar.

One of those cool moments was a chain of events that I’ll remember for a good long while. After my Predator las-sniped an enemy Redemptor, my own Redemptor stomped up to join two Space Marine columns locked in combat. After some intense combat, the Dreadnought was felled, surprisingly setting of an explosion, dealing mortals to literally everyone in the circle. The Techmarine takes the opportunity to kill the Eversor after this, who then explodes, killing the Techmarine. Earlier in the game, an Impulsor had exploded, and if I recall correctly, Big Harold exploded, bringing the game’s total explosion count to around 4 or 5. Fun!

My brother beat me on objectives, 26-40. He played his primaries far better than I did, and I was far too focused on killing his scary shit to properly run my secondaries. While I took out his Repulsor—the centerpiece of any good Cobalt Lancers army—during the game’s first BR, which significantly lessened his firepower and freed me up to move, aggressive pushes with his Impulsor and excellent positioning of his squads kept me at bay and I lost the inevitable Astartes vs. Astartes battle of attrition.

I hope that I can play some more 2000pts games here soon. I got my hands on a copy of the new Core Rulebook, so I’ll be hopefully be dipping my toes into the future of the 42nd millennium here soon. I’ve got some friends who wanna get back into the game with 10th, so I’ll be getting a couple Combat Patrol games in as well. Maybe Calthradia will follow into 10th, but the Crusade has been on hold for months now and I’m undergoing some significant life changes at the moment, so I doubt I’ll be making much consistent progress for a while.

[guilliwife]

going with iron warrior. his name is k'alorre and he's a tyrant siege terminator. his personality is that he's gay and a loser about it.

[looks at my pile of ocs]

i think my next guy is going to be an iron warrior. if not death guard

[lordsofmedrengard]

2 500 Points Iron Warriors, Terminator list, Orbital Assault RoW

With 30 points left for minur upgrades, like a few chain fists on the Siege Tyrants? This isn’t the most competitive build, and is obviously fluffed as Golg/your OC terminator character leading some sort of focused decapitation strike or boarding attack. Golg unlocks Legion Terminators as troops choices, and the Orbital Assault Rite of War gives them the option of teleporting/deep striking in. It’s a pretty neat combination, and most Legions can’t really do this to the same extent as IW can.

I’m going to convert Golg from Calas Typhon, maybe with Tyberos the Red Wake’s chainfist? The Tartaros squad is going to be made with a couple of Gorgon Terminator squads, which is why it’s so sparsely upgraded. 10 power axe terminators is still enough to threaten most units, so it’ll still be a useful addition to the list and helps bulk it up somewhat. I went with axes since the Gorgon kit comes stock with that, but of course you can use mauls or swords to suit yourself.

This list is not strong in the shooting phase (20 cyclone missile launchers seems like a lot, but the models are normal Cataphractii Terminators toughness-wise and only 1 ML per squad has the Split Fire rules) and will require good deployment via teleportation, due to a lack of speed. For 3K points I’m considering another identical Tartaros squad with axes and some multi-melta Land Speeders, to target vulnerable tanks. Maybe 2 squadrons of 2 LS with MM, to hunt Rhino tranports, the rear armour of Predators/Vindicators and the like?

At any rate, target priority is going to be key with the Siege Tyrants - this list lacks the numbers and the mobility to keep up with more balanced lists, so causing much damage in the first few turns is vital.

I don’t like the price and storage for Drop Pods and Flyers, so this is a nice way to get some Orbital Assaults in.

HQ: 175 points Erasmus Golg - 175 points

Troops: 1530 points Legion Terminator Squad, 10x Cataphractii Terminator, 1x Terminator w. heavy flamer & lightning claw, 4x pair of lightning claws, 3x chainfist, 2x power fist - 440 points

Legion Terminator Squad, 10x Cataphractii Terminator, 1x Terminator w. heavy flamer & lightning claw, 4x pair of lightning claws, 3x chainfist, 2x power fist - 440 points

Legion Terminator Squad, 10x Tartaros Terminator, 10x power axe - 325 points

Heavy Support: 1090 points Tyrant Siege Terminator Squad, 10x Tyrant - 545 points

Tyrant Siege Terminator Squad, 10x Tyrant - 545 points

[wh40kartwork]

Tyrant Siege Terminator 

by Boris Tsui

[immanueldid]

OC: William “Dozer” Mahoney

[askthelordofiron]

“Broken arrow?” He asked.

///

A pair of Thunderhawks finally made it to the town, they landed and a large squadron of terminators exited and rained hell on the approaching daemons and cultists with their tyrant siege missiles and a few saving theirs for the incoming tanks, giving a small respite to the dawn legionaries.

“This is siege Captain Demiter, terminator units arrived on sight. Providing support now. Engineer working on the homer as we speak.”

☠

- @askthelordofiron

Tlatia struggled awake, blinking away fatigue and pain, trying to remember what had happened before she'd been knocked unconscious.

Teltros. She remembered that name. She was fighting on Teltros. Against the cultists of She-Who-Thirsts; she remembered that, too. A trio of antitank rounds had hit her in the chest—one had smashed through the bones in her shoulder. She'd been knocked unconscious by the shock.

Someone was carrying her to safety.

None of her Astartes were nearly strong enough to carry her to safety.

Bleary-eyed, she looked up at her rescuer—Perturabo. Of course it was Perturabo. The amount of times he'd hauled her out of the mud was somewhat ridiculous.

"What year is it? 570.M29?" she joked, voice weak.

[ordo-scriptus]

Absolutely amazing start to the new edition with my first game today - 2000pts of Imperial Fists versus the ghastly green glow of an awesomely 3D printed Alpha Legion army. Tide of Carnage on a Hammer and Anvil deployment saw our forces arrayed as two, thin, table-spanning lines. The Imperial Fists took the first turn, and - as Night Fighting was in effect - they Ran to take up better positions. The Heavy Weapon squad hunkered down in terrain, and the Assault Squad spread out to screen Sigismund's personal Land Raider. This proved immediately to be a bad idea. One shot from Exodus and the whole squad was pinned, stalling the right flank in place. Other fire was sporadic, the Tactical squad fleeing before the Alpha Legion's subsumed Tyrant Siege Terminators. The turns that followed were a delicate dance of play and counter play, as each side carefully chose their targets to minimise possible enemy Reactions. Lernian Terminators and their Exemplar Praetor were countercharged by Assault Marines, only to instantly cut them down, only to then in turn be charged by Sigismund and his Templar Brethren. The Brethren were slain to a man, but a turn later Sigismund had slaughtered the majority of the Lernians and then ran them down as they fled. At this point, the game was effectively over. With only one Line unit left in the traitor's backfield, and two in the midfield for the Imperial Fists, we called the game. It was crazy fun, and I'm super excited to play more games! Heresy 2.0 is booming! #hobbystreak #hobbystreakday238 (at Wakefield) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cfuk7pItYf6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[coolyo294]

Pictures of today’s 30k match. I was fighting a drop pod assault raven guard list and tabled him pretty handily. picture 1 was after the initial drop pod assault deployment. his alpha strike failed to do any damage and then on my turn i shredded his special weapon squads and annihilated the leviathan with tyrant siege terminators. picture 2 is when my contemptor mortis intercepted a storm eagle coming in from reserve and made it crash and burn with a single lascannon shot, killing about 600 points of raven guard in one blow. 

After those units were dead it was just mopping up. Tabled him by turn 5 

[copperforge]

Just in time before my Dominion will arrive I've finished the first wave of my 30k Iron Warriors.

One squad of Cataphractii Terminators, all Storm Bolters and Chain Fists and a Heavy Flamer (magnetized, but then I realized I don't have enough shoulder guards to put on the Combi Bolter arm)

One ten man squad of Tactical Marines, the sergeant with a Power Maul, one Legion Vexilla and one Nuncio Vox (haven't got a Vox Backpack so a paper clip will do) to let my Barrage Weapons use their line of sight

One Contemptor Dreadnought with a Power Fist and magnetized Rotor Cannon and Multi Melta

One Siege Breaker Consul with a Combi Melta and Chainfist who'll be attached to either the Cataphractii or the Tyrant Siege Terminators.

[poorlytunedukulele]

Day 8 - Tyrant

September 14, 2950; Meridian Bay, Mars

She’s hunting Valus Ta’aurc.  Tracking is really more like it- she has no plans to attack on her lonesome.  The Vanguard is planning a strike, but to kill the Valus they must first find him.  He’s been oddly elusive for a Cabal.

Though Azra would have preferred to spend her week scoping out the Citadel, she’d come when Cayde had called.  It hasn’t been an easy job.  She’s died three times already on this hunt, but she’d die a hundred times before she’d think to give up.  It was simple, in her mind: Cayde called.  She’d go.  She’d spend the week getting soaked on Titan or starving in the vacuum of space for him.  He’d do the same for her.

She follows the Siege Dancers by their radio traffic.  She doesn’t speak Cabal well, but Spark knows enough to translate and he’s in her head so deep it’s close enough.  She tails them from a distance (there’s hardly any cover in the desert) as he and his troupe go down into Meridian Bay.  It’s nighttime, the stars scuttled by the haze of a sandstorm.

The wind shifts, just a bit.  Something’s happening, Spark whispers, something’s wrong.  On instinct she leaps from her Sparrow and dives towards the only cover nearby- old Vex-stone buried in the sand.  Harvesters prowl overhead, but that’s not why she’s hiding.  The air tremors with something too familiar.  Time bends.  On the Cabal network: Stand by to fire.  They are coming.  Stand by to fire.

Nobody will be watching for her.  How the Cabal can detect the Vex coming, she doesn’t know.  But they’re arraying for a battle and they won’t distract themselves dealing with her even if they do notice.

Let’s get a better view, Spark suggests.  She climbs an obelisk, swift and sure, and looks down over the battlefield.  There’s tension in the air.  Space itself seems taught.  Azra holds her breath.  She knows what’s coming.

There was fire in the distance. It wasn't the defenses that were hit, not right off the bat. The Tower itself was still under a barrage of missiles. The explosions flashed like heat-lightning in the clouds of smoke. The actual lightning flickered, revealing the harsh outlines of Cabal ships hidden in the storm clouds. The bombs just kept rolling in, wave after wave. Anti-aircraft fire was beginning to fill the air now, golden traces lancing across the brown-gray darkness.

She shakes off the premonition just as the Vex arrive.  With a crack like thunder they explode into existence, crashing down on the ranks of Cabal with a barrage of laser fire.  Cabal artillery answers.  Tracer rounds scream through the air, raising goosebumps on her arms.  Shattered time flickers against her like shrapnel.  She huddles on the point of her tower, drinking in the Arc-howl of Cabal munitions and the razor-edged glass of Vex fire.  Below her is chaos.

The Cabal are outmatched.  In only a few minutes their air support is all but gone.  Harvesters swing drunkenly off the battlefield, navigation confounded by timespace distortions, occasionally careening headlong into the sand when their engines are hit.  A Cabal somewhere cries into their comms: Black Shield, Black Shield, Firebase Thuria, perimeter compromised, request terminal protective fire, zero six zero, one three eight, immediate effect-

She feels an unfamiliar prickle on her skin.  She closes her eyes, focused now not on the screaming battle below her, but to something above.

Do you feel that? Spark whispers, awestruck.

Yes, she says, yes, what is that?

There is something else, neither Vex nor Cabal.  Gravity brushes her skin like spring rainfall.  She can taste it in the Light- something removed, observing, eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the chaos below.  It feels familiar, somehow.  She’s seen this before.  But where?  When?

She has the sense of something old lifting a long spear. Testing its heft.

She opens her eyes when the shade of light changes- no more white arc fire and golden tracers- the sky burns like molten iron.  Azra remembers a rhyme about the doom of red-skied mornings.  Devastation rains, quite literally, and Azra has to shield her face as explosions rock the valley.  Radiolaria boils and burns, Cabal munitions explode, sounding like popcorn to her deafened ears.

Then: quiet.  The battle stops. Those Vex still present wink out. Though Azra’s ears ring, Spark recognizes the voice of Valus Ta'aurc on the Cabal network.  “Find the source! Rouse the Flayers and find the source!”

She remembers then.  Knocking about in the Cosmodrome, sitting near the Array and listening to the eerie whine of the gravity waves.  She catalogues the devastation below as her Ghost repairs her ears.  This would be news for the Vanguard.

The Vex bait out the Warmind.  They seek to understand it.  Makes sense.  It’s a powerful new player in the system.  It flew under the radar for a long time.  Now it’s drawing attention.

The Cabal, too, hunt it.  Whether they want to use it or just destroy it, she can’t guess.  It doesn’t matter, really.  Either one would be bad.

She’s not sure if they really need to stop the Cabal, though.  Rasputin proved itself quite powerful tonight.  It must have deemed the attention worth it, to test out its power.  It is confident it can deal with the Vex and the Flayers, or at least that the risks they pose are a price it is willing to pay.

She wonders if Rasputin knew she was there.  If her witness was part of its considerations, or just an unintended side-effect.  She remembers the ordinance burning in the sky like a giant red eye staring down on her.  She shudders and draws her cloak tight around her.

But she’s not here to crack the convoluted nut of the Warmind’s intentions.  She’s here to track Ta’aurc.  She drops from her perch, landing silent in the cooling sands, and seeks out her Sparrow.  It’s covered in dust, but the stones protected it from munitions and shrapnel.

She slides on her helmet, grateful for the distance it provides from the smell of boiled Vex fluid and Cabal oil.

AO3 Linky

[theironwarsmith]

The Olympian.

What information on who this figure is lost to the ruins of Olympia herself. Incased in a mix of Tartaros and Cataphractii pattern Terminator armour, he has a formidable presence on the battlefield and is known for targeting the veterans of Space Marine chapters, more specifically the venerable dreadnoughts. None live who know why this is or who is beneath the armour anymore, but he is a welcome sight for the Iron Warriors which is rare amongst a Legion of cold, paranoid traitors.

He has become a legend in his own time, his word is unbreakable and his strength is indeed mighty, likened to the gods of old Terra, he was given the epithet 'The Olympian'.

----------

I've wanted to convert the Minotaurs Chapter Master into something else for a while now, whilst this isn't a massive conversion as I've only given him a Tyrant Siege Terminator arm and power fist, a FW HH space wolf Terminator combi-bolter and attached a mkIII chainsword to the power fist to make it into a chainfist, I feel that it is good enough. Unfortunately I had NO CAPES for him.

[titanomancy]

Knocked out another few characters this afternoon, including the exclusive Legion Praetor. I understand that he'll be painted up as an Iron Warrior. It's a look that works for this figure – if it were possible to do so, I'd have given it the head of a Tyrant Siege Terminator to complete the look.

The Moritats were a bit touch and go for a while and, as seems to be common with this kit, I had a hell of a time with the ammo feeds. I think it may be worth considering a finer gauge of wire for future builds, see if that doesn't simplify things.

Not pictured is the maniple worth of Reaver weapons I magnetized this morning. Although they aren't molded with sockets, there's actually plenty of room in the elbow joint for a five millimeter disc magnet, same as the Warlord. Not entirely sure why the studio opted for the keyed grooves, instead. Seems like a poor choice.

[templarhalo]

The Master of Mankind’s return Chapter 3: Reunited (The face you make when your boss’ fourteenth son shows up and beats the crap out of you, your best friend and two of your boss’ sons.)

@sisterofsilence @asklotarasarrin @ask-tribune-ra

The formless wastes were formless.  Constantin Valdor should have expected this considering what the name of this section of the Warp was, but the plainness of the environment was boring.  Apart from the occasional redoubt full of daemons and the battles between Slaneesh and Khorne’s minions in the distance, there was nothing but planes of grey veined with black purplish liquid.

Valdor let a sigh and continued onwards.  Beside him Leman Russ sniffed the air, his Power Axe Helwinter at the ready.

“You seem frustrated Leman.”  Valdor said.

“Aye, our weapons have not tasted maleficarum flesh or drunken traitor blood for quite some time, it makes me impatient whatever trap the enemy has set.”

“Have no fear, we are breaking into the realm of a Chaos God, and there will be no shortage of foes for our blades.”

“I'm just glad there’s a way to bring him back.  If I was still on my lonesome I wouldn't have known the tree of life had been destroyed my Vaerangi would have been killed for nothing and I would have left Bjorn and my sons for nothing.”

If he was being honest, Leman’s frankness on his emotions surprised him considering his somewhat antagonistic relationship with the Captain-General. The two had fought side by side many times, not just when Prospero burned, but during the Rangdan Xenocides and other battles when the Emperor and Arlette graced the sixth legion with their presence.  A good relationship on the battlefield did not always translate to a good relationship off it.  

“You are not the only one who’s left people they care about behind for the sake of duty.”  Valdor said as he scratched his beard.  He would need to shave it soon, at the next available opportunity, even if Jenetia said it looked good on him.

“Yer talking about stepmother right?”  Leman said.

“Not just her, there was a Ligo Aetos named Aella, she assisted Arlette with her duties.  I promised I would be there when she became a member of the Legio.  I do not liking breaking promises.”

“There is something more isn’t it?’  Rogal spoke up.  The seventh son of his King held Leman’s Sword of Balenight in his remaining hand.

“I fear that when we return the Imperium it may be too late.  That the Emperor and everyone we know and loved the species we fought for will be gone or consumed by Chaos, or worse.  That the Imperium we return too will be not the one we swore to protect and were willing to shed blood for.”

Valdor admitted.  Saying those words hurt, but it was like ripping off a bandage.

Rogal sighed.

“You overthink things Captain-General.  If the Imperium is not the one we swore to protect we shall tear it down and rebuild it.  If it still stands and if my father is gone, it does not matter, for his internment on the Golden Throne meant he was no longer with us anyway.  The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing.  And we are not doing anything.”

Constantin considered the primarchs.

“I forget how eloquent you can be sometimes.”

“Think nothing of it, let us continue, to victory or death.”  Rogal said.

+Blunt as ever+ Jenetia signed.  +But I share your concerns old friend.  +

The four continued for an hour in silence.

Valdor expected Leman to break the silence, but it was not he who was responsible.  It was the sound of wings

The figure was tall as a Contemptor Dreadnought, his armor was the color of sickness, a rotten green that made Valdor’s eyes water.  His face made an ogryn look handsome.  His eyes were a putrid white with no irises.  His lower jar obscured by a rebreather.  What remained of his ugly, corrupted features was obscured by a purple cowl.  Two wings sprouted from his back in a sick mockery of an angel.  They were tattered, brown things with holes so big, the laws of reality would have to be shattered for them to be capable of flight.

“”It has been a long time.”  Mortarion, fourteenth son of the Emperor of Mankind, Primarch of the Death Guard, Daemon Prince of Nurgle greeted.

“By the throne brother, I can't believe I am saying this, but you got uglier.”  Leman said.

“Spare me your jokes brother.  You know why I am here.”  Mortarion rasped.  The Daemon Primarch’s voice set Valdor’s teeth on edge.  It was a raspy slimy tone that no mortal lips could ever produce.  

“Yer here because you’ve become a god’s bitch.”  Leman snarled all traces of his humor forgotten.  

“As blunt as he is, he is right.”  Rogal growled.

“And you are charming as ever brother.”

“You lost the right to call me brother long ago.  You are no longer family.  You are a monster that must be put down like the cur you are.”  Rogal said.  His voice was like the growl of a chainsword.

“Speaking of putting down curs, did you know Horus’ First Captain Abaddon killed your beloved Sigismund?  From what I hear, your beloved Champion died like an old dog.  I must say the new Warmaster granted him mercy.  “Mortarion sneered.

Rogal remained unmoving.  His blues eyes were as cold as his homeworld.

“Tell me, Mortarion that the wounds Nathaniel Garro gave you still throb?  Do they keep you up at night, knowing that for all your boasting and your newfound power, he struck you down?  How did Nurgle feel when you lost not to your father or a primarch in single combat but an Astartes, one of your own sons no less?”  Valdor responded

“I am the Clarion's call!  I am the Tyrant’s fall!”  Those had been the last words of Malcador’s Knight-Errant before he stabbed his father in the heart and banished him.

Mortarion snarled.  “Tell me Captain-General, Nathaniel Garro sacrificed his life, but for all your devotion and skill, why does the Corpse Emperor not walk among his people?  I’m surprised Arlette did not blame you for His death.  You two bickered a lot; did you come to blows in your grief?  Why did she keep you around after you failed the one task you were created for?”

It that moment Valdor’s anger rose to a crescendo.  Mortarion and the other traitors had never seen the outcome of the Siege.  They had fled like the cowards they were.  They had not seen the surviving Ligo Aetos in their huddled masses, many missing broodparents or friends, their innocence and happiness shattered by the destruction wrought on their only home and the death and horrors they had witnessed.   

They had not buried a Custodes who had taken their own life in the dead of night.   

They had not seen the Blood Angels wander aimlessly, stumbling over the corpses of their brothers and sisters, their eyes bloodshot, their hands shaking as they recovered gene-seed, arms and ammunition.

 They had not seen the Imperial Fists in their broken golden yellow armor rebuild the walls and what remained of the Palace, only to stare at the tools in their hands like they had forgotten how to use them.  

They had not seen the White Scars pace like caged animals, grinding their teeth and humming mourning songs from Chogoris.  

And they had not seen Arlette grieve.  They were not there when Valdor and Jenetia had to physically carry her away from His enthroned body to clean her, eat and sleep.

Valdor snarled like a wolf, raised the Apollonian Spear and shot Mortarion in the head.  The daemon’s head snapped back, only to tilt forward as flesh regenerated.

In Mortarion's right hand was the scythe known as Silence, in his left was the baroque shenlongi energy pistol known as Lantern.   

The primarch lunged with a blow that Valdor narrowly dodged,   an inch closer and Valdor’s well known Mohawk and the top of his head would have been sliced off.

Valdor jammed his Spear deep into Mortarion’s chest.  The primarch hissed in pain and Valdor found himself staring down the barrel of Lantern.  Before the Custodian’s head could be disintegrated, the silver blade of Veracity sliced the hand holding the pistol off.  

Mortarion howled in pain, not just from his wound, but from the agony of being in the presence of Jenetia Krole.  .

The daemon took to the air his pistol forgotten.  Leman drew his combi-bolter Scornsplitter and open fire.  Mortarion   swooped down and brought Silence in   descending arc.  Leman holstered his empty firearm and brought the Axe of Helwinter to bear in a two handed grip.  The two weapons met in a clash of fenrisian steel and the corrupted metal.  Sparks flew for a good minute, than Mortarion send Leman flying back in a shroud of green gas and buzzing flies.  Jenetia moved to the Wolf King’s side to dispel the sorcery while Valdor and Rogal lunged at Mortarion.

Mortarion swatted their blows aside and telekinetically pulled his pistol to his hand.  A purple bolt of energy collided with Rogal’s chest.  The primarch roared in pain and buried his sword in the skull of his erstwhile brother.

Before the primarch could lash out with his scythe, Valdor removed Mortarion’s left hand with a stroke of his spear.  He then plunged it in the primarchs heart.  Mortarion laughed.  The daemon primarch was a blur as he slammed his fist into Valdor’s face.  The blow knocked Valdor back. With his freshly regenerated left hand .Mortartrion wrapped his hand around Rogal’s neck and shot in him the chest with Lantern.  He then flicked him aside telekinetically with contemptuous ease.  Mortarion cracked his fingers and a warp portal opened.

Fourteen Deathshroud Terminators emerged, Power Scythes raised.  They uttered no battle cry, but marched in lockstep.  Leman set upon them with his axe and teeth, while Jenetia circled her advancing foes like a lioness, Veracity ready to behead her opponents.

“Kill the pariah.”  Mortarion ordered.  The Deathshroud lumbered forward.

As Mortarion continued his relentless assault, Valdor realized three things.

Mortarion was healing from his injuries as fast as they were inflicted.

      2. Mortarion would never tire due to his connection to the Warp

      3. He was probably going to die before Jenetia and Leman could reach him

All in the span of a minute Valdor processed and accepted this information.  He and Mortarion continued their clash.  Another minute passed.  Than another.     

With a backhand sweep of Silence, the Apollonian Spear was knocked out of his hands.  Valdor calmly drew his Misericordia and lept forward to bury the long dagger into Mortarion’s eye socket.  The primarch staggered back and Valdor lost his grip in the blade.  Before Valdor could react, Mortarion’s struck back,   the scythe’s blade cut deep to Valdor’s torso, a few inches deeper and he would have been cut in half.  He then raked his monstrous weapon across Valdor’s face, destroying his right eye and biting all the way to his skull.  Valdor toppled backwards.  He suddenly felt very cold and very warm at the same time.  His vision became distorted, grey slowly edging across what was once in color.

“I expected better from you.”  Mortarion said as he plucked the dagger out of his eye and tossed it to the ground.

“So did I, So did the Emperor.”  Valdor rasped.

“Don’t make me laugh Valdor.  The Emperor only wanted a weapon.  He never cared about my struggles.  He killed a man who kept me shackled only to put his own pair of shackles on me.”

“The way I remember it, He save you from death.  Did you know that He told me that your betrayal shocked him almost as much as Horus?”

“I can’t imagine why.”  Mortarion scoffed.

“Because you knew what it was like to be weak.  He thought you, out of all his sons would appreciate the strength you were born with, and use it responsibly.”

Mortarion paused.

Out of the corner of Constantin's eye he could make out Jenetia and Leman fighting.  Jenetia stabbed a Deathshroud in the knee, and then pushed Veracity into his throat.  Leman Russ cut a Deathshroud in half from head to groin.  Rogal Dorn, his features a picture of rage and pain smote two of the scythe wielding terminators with a single blow.

Mortarion loomed over him.  In that moment, Valdor felt fear.  Fear that he would die with his duty undone.  He felt the sharp crushing feeling of failure.  It settled on him heavily, although it could be the poisons that Silence was coated in attacking his muscles and nervous system.

  The last thing he saw before unconsciousness took him away was Mortarion raising Silence.

“Goodbye Constantin Valdor.”  Mortarion said softly.  

A barrage of heliothermic bolt rounds obliterated Mortarion’s torso.  The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

A  Custodes strode forward, a black fur shawl d and mourning cloak draped over their golden armor.  In one hand a Lastrum Storm Bolter sang a song of death, in the other, an Adrathic destructor added to the cacophony with a deem thrum!  sound.  The energy beam from the archaic type of weapon the Emperor had taken great pains to ensure only his Custodes and the men and women he favored  left a Deathshroud Terminator naught but ash and  Mortarion’s rotten pus dripping body  was  incinerated, tainted warp matter in the shape of flesh seared like a fresh steak on the grill.  

While the Custodes advanced, Leman and his brother dealt with the remaining Deathshroud,

Jenetia followed, although with only a fraction of her usual speed, her silver armor was stained red from a wound she had taken to the chest.  

Mortarion laughed with a phlegmy rumble.  “Your Captain-General lies dying at my feet.  What make you stand a chance you pathetic husk of gene-tech.  I will kill you and feed your bones to my Nurglings.  Your skull will be used as a grenade to carry Nurgle’s Rot!”

The Custodes responded by tossing a Melta bomb in his face.  The Custodes than mag-locked the Adrathic Destructor to her thigh and began pummeling Mortarion's rapidly restoring features with bolter fire from her Guardian Spear.  The Soulless Queen vaulted over the Custodes Veracity poised to deliver a crushing, two-handed blow,

The last thing Mortarion saw was the Zweihander’s blade splitting his skull, and the rheumy laughter of the god he sold his soul too.  

The witch hunter and adopted daughter of the Emperor landed like a cat.  She sheathed Veracity and stared at the Custodes.  

The Auramite armor Custodes wore did not bear, the conventional insignia used by Space Marines and Imperial Army.  Rank, caste, Shield-Company and Shield Host was indicated by the color of the left shoulder pads, the type of gems embedded in the Custodes armor, the color of thearmor, and the robes and tabards.

Jenetia hid her shock that someone else bore the hidden signs that indicated they were Tribune of the Companions.

+Is Arlette dead?+   Jenetia asked.

“She disappeared twenty years after I became a Custodian. “  The Custodes replied.

+How long have we been gone?  + Jenetia asked.

“Since you and him left?  A little over a century.”  The Custodes said.

Jenetia paused to digest that information.

+I would have the name of the Custodes who took the role once held by the only non-pariah I considered a sister in arms.  +

The Custodes chuckled.

“As you command Knight-Commander Krole.”  They replied.

With a hiss of an unlatched seal the plumed, conical helm was removed.

Beneath the helm was a young women's face.  Her black hair was neck length to make it more comfortable when she wore her helm.  Her skin was the brown of the ethnic group referred to as Kazakh, although slightly lighter due to the Celtic gene-stock the Emperor mixed in when he created this particular Custodes.  She had a strong jawline and angular cheeks.      

Her eyes were the color of milk chocolate, but there was fierceness in them, a defiant, almost stubborn refusal to accept fate and to persevere.  To press onwards whatever the odds.  To hear what people said, nod and tell them to frack off before they beat them to death with their bare hands if that’s what it took to succeed.

Jenetia like the look, in this Custodes it reminded her lot of Arlette and her own Sisters.

“I am Aella Hypatia Enyo , Tribune of the Companions.  Daughter of Shield-Captain  Asclepius Phoebus Reticules of the Hykanatoi Prefect Gaius Alanaus Brennus of the Tharantoi and Primus Medicae Danak Tendai of the Fangs of the Emperor.  And I have been sent by  our King to aid you in your quest.”

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