+ inload: Primaris meet Astartes on Andocrine +

+ An alloy of old and new +

Scipius found Oto Yeng's manner infuriating; but then, he had found almost everything about the Gatebreakers he'd met thus far frustrating. Aside from anything else, he couldn't quite grasp why the apothecary – the Claviger-Gentle, he chided himself – had been assigned to guide him. The two strode down the wide boulevard towards the butkade, Scipius' steps crisp, placed and formal; Yeng's stride much looser, almost louche. 

"With all due respect, Claviger-Gentle," the exotic title came awkwardly to his tongue, but he could not bring himself to call Yeng 'brother'; not yet. "I would be forewarned, if we are to meet the Chapter Master."

Yeng continued his easy-paced stroll, favouring his left leg. It was not quite a limp, and raised still more questions for Scipius. The Gatebreaker nodded, glanced at the other marine, then turned back. Scipius thought he caught a gnomic smile before Yeng replied.

"Have I yet told you, traveller, of the Sage Huro? It was he who wrote that 'water will flow only once a path in rock is worn.'"

Scipius' patience had run thin. At every turn, he had been sidelined; his shuttle greeted not by an honour guard, but by a gaggle of Chapter serfs; and his questions rebuffed, brushed aside with platitudes or politely ignored. The 'fortress monastery' seemed anything but; appearing to be little more than a tumbledown ruin, populated solely by bland-faced serfs. When finally an Astartes had appeared, Oto Yeng had turned out to be more concerned with aphorisms than facts; and still less concerned with the passage of time. He had not even asked Scipius his name or rank. The two had walked, apparently aimlessly, for close to an hour across the winding straight-cornered paths of the monastery. 

Scipius came to a halt, his feet scuffing up the yellow dust that covered the open-air path. Yeng stopped a pace ahead, and half-turned back, his face blandly quizzical. The two soldiers regarded one another; Yeng with seeming disinterest, and Scipius will ill-concealed impatience. Both wore identical quartered green-and-yellow livery, but at that the similarities ended. The Primaris was perhaps a hand's width taller, though much of that was down to his upright posture, and the older Astartes' rolling gait. The Master of Chapter 333 wore gleaming Tacitus plate overlaid with heavy robes in the Imperial style. Scipius' trained eye took in Yeng's plate – a much-patched example of an Armourum Ferrum variant that the Primaris marine did not fully recognise.

"I do not know this Huro. I do not wish to know this Huro. I have brought a host of battle brothers to repopulate what I now find to be an occupied Chapter Fortress. It is a joy indeed to find that our forebears – that you – have survived, but there is much to discuss: to plan. I insist you take me to see the Chapter Master; and immediately."

Yeng pursed his lips and looked down, his hands clasped behind his back. He eased his shoulders, the much-patched armour creaking, before running a hand through his scrubby grizzled hair.

"Grant me this indulgence, traveller. You will forgive my rudeness in relating one story more." Scipius raised an impatient eyebrow as the apothecary went on. "When asked how best to seize his father's throne, the sage Huro told his Prince: 'Travelling is best when it is a return to familiarity.' The Prince, of course, understood at once."

Scipius was straightforward, but he was not stupid. All these riddles. Of course. It had been a test. He had not been snubbed. He dropped to one knee.

"I understand now. My apologies." Yeng's eyes widened briefly at the Primaris marine's action, before the apothecary's smiled broadened still further. "You are the Chapter Master. I am unworthy..."

"Alas, no," Yeng interrupted, still grinning. "That honour is not mine. I see now your eagerness. I will take you to Master." The Gentle turned, unceremoniously, and waved a hand vaguely behind him. "Come then, Unworthy." 

Scipius rose, face flushed, indignation warring with embarrassment. Following the Astartes closely along the short corridor, he laid a hand on the other's shoulder plate. Yeng turned to him, his expression once more innocently quizzical.

"That is not–". Scipius' objection was cut off by the peal of a great gong. 

The sound reverberated richly along the corridor, and Yeng's face creased into a grin. 
"Strange what we get to decide for ourselves, isn't it?" Without waiting for an answer, he paused, glancing towards the large round portal of the moon door. He gestured towards the opening. "Ah, but that will wait for another time, I think. Now is right for you to meet your Master." 


+ Building and painting +

+ The Primaris Gatebreakers are coming along nicely. With the chest eagles and metallics painted, I assembled the figures. The army itself is going to represent the Chapter a little further along than in the stories above – my aim is that the stories will eventually catch up, and then events during games will provide the ongoing narrative. +

+ To this end, then, the Primaris newcomers aren't quite as uniform and clean-cut as they had been. The same supply issues that have dogged the Chapter since time immemorial continue to be in force during the dark Millennium, though the incoming Chapter 333 – that is, the newcomers – did at least come with a big stockpile of shiny new toys. +

+ You'll spot quite a variety of bolt weapons above. The marines will mostly have auto-boltrifles, though the precise pattern of that will vary. You'll spot that some are conversions of the Infiltrators' and Reivers' different styles of bolt carbines. I'm unlikely to field either of those units unconverted (I don't like the lack of greaves), but I do like the shorter, more familiar snub noses of their boltguns. +

+ Not quite finished, but well on the way now. I'm pleased (and relieved!) that the Primaris mix in quite nicely with the older armour styles. 

+ +


  1. Incredible stuff, looking great.

    1. Cheers, Greg. A lot of fun to do, though as mentioned earlier, I'm glad I'm sticking with a batch of fifteen!


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