I let out a quiet sigh when I was realise I had been holding my breath. I put my hand on Miredan's arm, gently press down until he lowers the weapon. His gaze follows Catabin as he advanced on us, warily.
"Make yourself known." My voice is cracked. There are protocols to follow.
"I am the Darda'il of the Eleventh Host," he began, "and I am pleased to find others who remember His name."
Comparing notes as we marched back to the mobile apothecarian, Cinnamon had also been flung free. He had come across four of our comrades; all dead. Triumph and Medardus murmur in turn as each name is recited. The Stormbird's location is unknown to him, but he has found the war.
Twenty minutes sees us refreshed and back in some semblance of operational fitness – though I harbour no illusions that the eight of us we will be conquering worlds any time soon. We have a plan. Forget the Stormbird; head towards the Urgall Depression.
+ The painting on the first seven is now complete, and I'm pleased that the palette seems to be working. A test model is all very well, but I don't think you really get a good idea of whether the scheme is right until you see it as part of a group. +
+ I decided to use a gloss red effect on the targeters, and keep this as a very minor accent. An eye-catching 'hot-spot' draws the eye, and since the scheme is naturally fairly muted, it can use the help to define the helmet. +
+ The first Breacher's shield looked a little plain, so I've added a broad diagonal stripe across the other two. +
+ I'm pleased with how Medardus has emerged, too. I'll likely do some inidividual model pics soon. +