Showing posts with label Inq28. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inq28. Show all posts

Thursday, August 13

+ inload: Building Inquisitrix Barbari Kills +

+ Inquisitrix Barbari Kills +


'If you have good sense, you'll quietly put this book back where you found it and creep away. You'll find more questions than answers inside – and that's exactly what got me started pulling on a thread that led to this accursed rosette.'

– Preface to Inquisitor B. Kills' Comments, 1st edition

'If you find, written in my obituary, that I led a blameless life, look for the footnote. I'd like it made clear that I regard being blameless as an act of cowardice bordering on deviance. Every moral agent must make account for her actions – that is, after all, at the root of the Inquisition's mission.'

'Oh, and make sure that I'm buried with my boots and a knife – y'know, just in case.'  

– Preface to Inquisitor B. Kills' Comments, 2nd edition

+++

+ Models of characters +

+ It's always tricky making a model of a character you like, and Kills has a healthy dose of humour and punky irreverence that makes her quite refreshing for this fairly po-faced setting. On top of that, quite a lot of the narrative of my little corner of 40k revolves around a scant few characters, of which Kills is one. Clearly I had my work cut out. +

+ When in such a situation, one approach is to call for back-up. Working out who your character works with is often easier, as this supporting cast can be much simpler archetypes – the medic, the soldier, the brute, the wizard, the bard. By making these, you immediately start to explore their relationship with the central character, which goes some way to cast light on the way you can portray them. +


+ Practicality and adaptation are keywords for Kills – what better companion to reflect that than a Squat? Coriolanus and Septival similarly serve to blend the Inquisitor in with the broader army.  These characters fill different spaces around the character, and start to fill things in by reflecting on her. +

+ For example, I initially toyed with having Kills in long robes, but the more I built her entourage, the more I felt she needed more of an action pose. The poncho suggested itself, and that became the keystone to the conversion. +

+ Regular inloaders might remember Brunski and Haim, another two followers. They have models sketched out, but I'm considering revising them in light of Kills' completed model. Keeping things flexible and fluid enough to respond to changes is useful. +

+ Anyway, once you've got an image in your mind, it's time to pick a model. You may be lucky and find something stock that requires only a little tweaking, but I really enjoy going all out on my Inquisitors (Unfortunus Veck is another example [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+]), and pushing my skills to best reflect the unique qualities of these exceptional individuals.  In particular, I'm very keen that these conversions fit two criteria:
  • They look unique – while parts might be identifiable, I don't want it to be immediately recognisable as a conversion of another model. Ideally, it should look like a model you could buy, rather than a conversion.
  • It gets the character of the figure across.
+ The results are below, so I'll leave you to judge whether I've been successful! +


+ The poncho is the most obvious thing here, and I think it is doing a lot of the heavy lifting in terms of composition. It adds dynamism and movement to an otherwise fairly staid pose, and creates a sense of drama; suggesting the pistol has just been whipped out from beneath it. Secondly, it reveals something about the setting: it has a frontier feel, like a cowboy or prospector. This is backed up with the heavy boots and practical all-weather clothing. Finally, it being blown up reveals a mass of unusual equipment and pouches, which speak to Kill's self-reliance and preparedness. +


+ Complementing the revealed pistol is the Inquisitorial rosette – Kills strikes me as the sort of Inquisitor who realises that by the time you reveal your identity, it's best to have a gun drawn too! I also liked the fact that the rosette would normally be hidden beneath the poncho; again telling us something about her character and methods. +

+ The pistol is a good example of hiding the provenance of something. The stock bit is from the Primaris apothecary, but trimming away the bells and whistles leaves it as a simple, stocky, brutal-looking handgun. +


+ It's worth noting that this is pre-greenstuff. It's been too hot to work comfortably recently, and in any case, it's sometimes nice to step back, consider the figure in front of you, and build a plan before ploughing on with putty. Having a bit of breathing space can help you see the composition more objectively. +

+ I'm tempted to do some hair; perhaps something asymmetrical, to distance the head from the stock bit. At the very least I'll fill in the hole left by trimming away the back socket; and likely fill in a couple of the boles in the poncho. +



+ Visible here, attached to her belt, is her extendable power maul. Besides being easily hidden, I thought this brutal club seemed much more in keeping with Kills' slightly punky character than an elegant sword. It's also a nice nod to the Gatebreakers, the army with which she is associated for this project. +

+ The book, I think, is an important prop – it stops her looking too 'combatty'. She is, after all, an Inquisitor (or Inquisitrix, to use her preferred appellation), and her role is primarily investigative. +

+ Overall, I'm really pleased with how she came together. The conversion work itself was time-consuming, but it's so satisfying when parts that you've identified end up working together well. As mentioned above, while I'm going to go in with some greenstuff, there's not nearly as much gap-filling and sculpting work necessary as I had initially planned for. +

+ For those interested: Van Saar upgrade head; neck and collar from Necromunda Enforcers, along with the maul and most of the pouches; Elysian left arm and hand; right arm is from a Frostgrave cultist, I think; right hand is from the Elysian Valkyrie passenger kit; upper torso and poncho from the Genestealer gunfighter character; abdomen and legs from a Blood Bowl Dark Elf linewoman; rosette is from the Luminark/Hurricanum kit; and the pistol, as mentioned above, is from the Primaris apothecary kit. +


+ Creating your own character +

+ If you're making your own model, you can, of course, buy everything new, but besides being ruinously expensive – the infamous 'wallet-bleed' class conversions – I find my creativity is channelled best by the challenge of limitations. Necessity is the mother of invention, after all, and starting to work with bits you already have will often guide you down a route you wouldn't otherwise have found. +

+ Most of the parts used for Kills (indeed, most of my projects!) are thus spares, left over from other projects. If there is a critical bit (like the poncho here), then check bits sites or second-hand swap shops as a first port of call. You are, after all, going to cut them up substantially, so a cheap, damaged model can be just as useful for parts as a new on sprue one, after a bit of cleaning up. +

+ Finally, it's worth pointing out that most of these pieces could be easily substituted for much the same effect. Dig through your bits boxes or have a chat with your friends – the Enforcer sprue was a swap with Ilmarinen, and the right arm came from a giant bag o' plague bits Lucifer216 kindly gave me, left over from his own Death Guard project. +

+++

+ I hope that she matches up with your mental images from the colour text that's she's appeared in. I'd love to hear what you think. +

Thursday, December 5

+ inload: Imperial technology +

+ Ghost in the machine – Imperial weapons and machine spirits in Warhammer 40,000 +

'Master-crafted, artificer, relic, [others?] How do these grades of quality compare to each other?'
b1soul, The Bolter and Chainsword

+ This question, asking for clarification or explanation of what terms like 'relic', 'archeotech', 'master-crafted' and 'artificer' mean in-universe, popped up in a forum recently, and it got me thinking about 40k's machine spirits, too. The answer turned into what I found quite an interesting train of thought, so I worked it up into a rather discursive inload that explores my thoughts on Imperial technology in detail. +

+ The usual caveats apply; this is a fictional universe, after all, so there's no 'right answer', but it's fun to explore. I hope you enjoy the read, and please do feel free to share your own thoughts in the comments below or on the Facebook group [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+]. +


+++

+ Theoretical +

+ As a rule, Techpriests 'sign off' every piece of
manufactured technology with a blessing. +
Let me start by making the claim that the in-game use of terms doesn't necessarily match to what an in-universe observer would use; and even where it does, there's a huge grey area. In general terms, I'd suggest archeotech isn't so much a guide to quality as the other terms. As pointed out above, it – usually – simply labels something as being of pre-Imperial human origin; and usually irreplaceable because the means to create it are lost or forbidden (i.e. non-STC). The quality of it is hugely variable, as these tend to be poorly-understood one-offs, or from a cache that's carefully hoarded.

We then turn to Imperial materials. These are the things, from chainswords and boltguns to Rhinos and conversion beamers, that the Imperium can replicate and mass-manufacture. Usually (but not always) STC-derived, the Adeptus Mechanicus understand how to create these from scratch. Most are manufactured by the Adeptus Mechanicus themselves on Forgeworlds, but since the instructions on how to build them are understood, non-Mechanicus personnel can be trained to manufacture them (under license, and with the supervision of the Techpriests) in bulk, as with tanks and lasguns on hiveworlds like Armageddon and Necromunda; or boltguns and power armour in Space Marine Chapter forges.

A typical Astartes Chapter forge is staffed by slaves, servitors or helots who churn out things like boltgun shells and replacement parts for armour – though even this is implied to be heavily ritualised, more akin to mediaeval scribes copying manuscript pages than a modern munitions factory. The most skillful of these are the artificers – more practised and capable than the other slaves, and granted some freedom.

+ Consecrated and revered: forgewrought Astartes boltgun +
Overseeing the 'staff' are the Techpriests – the Techmarines. These are examples of the master-craftsmen, who can not only follow the holy writ of manufacture as accurately as the artificers, but can also see connections and innovate.

This 'quality level' also intermingles with the in-universe concept of machine-spirits. This concept has been muddied in more recent background, as some machine spirits are suggested to be akin to AI, but the original background was much more evasive. The implication was that machine spirits was something in between Roman lares and penates (i.e. a ghost or animating spirit of a place or thing) and the relationship a gearhead has with his motorbike.

+ The superstitious crew of this Leman Russ consecrate it with red handprints prior to each battle, as an imprecation to its machine spirit for protection. +

+++

+ Practical +

To put this into context, consider the different sorts of boltgun we might encounter in-game and in-universe. 

Standard boltguns: While harder to manufacture than lasrifles, boltguns are nevertheless churned out on many forgeworlds and hiveworlds in huge numbers. These are destined for hive Enforcers, Imperial guard officers and the like. These are akin to a cheap digital watch; stamped out on an assembly line, assembled in parts by trained workers, and then blessed/passed by a supervising techpriest. When damaged, they are replaced, or jury-rigged back into service by an Enginseer in the field.

I'd suggest a typical Imperial Guardsman would go through the blessings by rote, rather than through religious fervour. He might blame himself for insufficient piety if it jams, but the relationship between man and boltgun is more akin to how we, as modern people, would see a weapon – as a tool.

+ Cheap 'n' nasty. (Boltgun's poor quality, too). +

On a quality scale above that are Astartes boltguns, built within the Chapter forges. Customised to a particular Astartes bearer, these boltguns are more akin to a tailor-made suit. Built with better materials and hand-assembled, they will be inspected and passed/blessed by a Techmarine or Master of the Forge. Culturally indoctrinated to believe that the boltgun is as much a spiritual gift as a tool, the Space Marine will tend and clean the weapon as a religious observance, and have his personal helots keep it in good working order. When damaged, he will take it to the forge to be carefully repaired by a specialised forge-helot, using new parts from the forge. Over time, the Space Marine and boltgun will become better attuned – reinforcing the idea that there is a 'machine spirit' that the Space Marine needs to placate and trust.

+ An Astartes boltgun is created for its bearer; both weapon and symbol of faith. +


+ Artificer and master-crafted boltguns +

For particularly important figures like officers, an Artificer, rather than a helot, may supply the replacement parts and do the repair. The parts will be a better quality (higher tolerances, better craftsmanship), and perhaps highly decorated. This again reinforces the idea of a machine spirit, as the better quality materials mean the officer's abilities with his weapon improve. As with the Ship of Theseus, this weapon, which is now what we'd call an artificer boltgun in-game, remains the officer's original boltgun and – crucially – retains the machine spirit of the weapon. Having been well-treated, the machine spirit rewards the officer with greater skill and accuracy (or so it appears to him). The boltgun may now look very different; gilded and chased with jewels; inscribed with prayers for the marine's fellows, or curses on their enemies; and perhaps finished with a purity seals.

Imagine next that the officer's weapon is, at last, lost or damaged beyond repair. Mournfully, the officer takes what remains to a techmarine, who lays the weapon's machine spirit to rest. Given his rank, the officer is gifted with a new boltgun. This one is built from scratch by a techmarine; perhaps the Master of the Forge himself. Built to exacting qualities and made with the finest materials – as befits the officer's standing – it is what we term master-crafted. To us, we'd see it as a fantastic machine – a brand new Ferrari to the other marines' Mercedes. To the Space Marine Officer, it is a new boltgun, but one that has an inherently more puissant machine-spirit – fiercer, stronger and more aggressive. It may be more accurate than the much-loved lost boltgun; less prone to jamming, and perhaps with a unique diagnostic device created by the techmarine. However, it may equally be unfamiliar; uncomfortable. The officer feels the machine spirit resists him; must be placated or tamed.

+ Master-crafted, artificer-enhanced or a relic – who can say?+
To our eyes, the the artificer-enhanced original boltgun and the replacement master-crafted boltgun would be similar in functional ability – the officer seems to be able to kill the same amount of the Imperium's enemies. There is no inherent functional difference, but more of an aesthetic one. It would be a matter of taste as to whether the classic or the replacement is 'better'; to continue the car metaphor, the artificer original might be seen as a classic E-type Jaguar or Rolls-Royce, while the master-crafted replacement might be seen as a top-of-the-range Ferrari or Tesla. Different strengths, different appeals.


+ Relic boltguns +

After centuries of heroic service, this master-crafted boltgun has itself been enhanced and decorated by generations of skilled artificers; blurring the in-game definitions of master-crafted and artificer. The machine spirit has been tested and proved triumphant; its character has settled. Perhaps it has mellowed from its fiery beginnings in the forge, becoming so reliable it seems to never jam, while keeping a higher rate of fire than any other in the armoury. Perhaps the spirit has remained cantankerous; granting victory only to those who can tame it. A reputation has sprung up around the boltgun; a reputation that is well-known not only to the officer, but to his men. Perhaps it is granted its own familiar or honorific name.

One day, however, the officer falls. The weapon is borne from the battlefield alongside him, its retrieval granted all the respect of the warrior himself. Totemic to the Company, the boltgun is handed down through further generations. Depending on the Chapter's view of its machine spirit, perhaps it is gifted to another officer for a time. Perhaps it is only brought out to inspire the men at critical junctures, or Company rituals. Perhaps it is returned to the Forge, where it is loaned out to other officers, the weapon's reputation inspiring them. This is a relic boltgun.

+ Honour the battle gear of the dead. +
+ Only the Emperor is higher in our devotion. +

 +++

+ Innovation and technology in the Imperium +

Before we go further, it's worth noting that – as with all material in 40k – everything you have been told is a lie. It's good nerdy fun to chat about this stuff and explore those parts of the universe that haven't had as much attention as others, but any of my personal interpretations are naturally open to discussion – please do leave your thoughts below. With that proviso in mind, let's explore the relationship of research, technology and machine spirits in the 41st Millennium.

+ STCs and humanity +

Firstly the vast, vast majority of all technology in the Imperium is STC-derived. The Standard Template Constructs were devices that pre-Imperial humans took with them on humanity's first steps into the stars. Able to adapt to local conditions and materials, the STC devices created efficient, rugged designs and products to enable settlers to survive and thrive.

With the machines so easy to maintain and able to innovate, humanity gradually lost first the need – and then the ability – to innovate. After a golden age of expansion, the Dark Age of Technology ended with a galaxy-wide war between humanity and the intelligent robots they created; a war humanity narrowly survived.


+ Abominable Intelligence and the tech-priests +

+ Techpriest of Mars, carrying both holy STC-tech
and relic non-STC. +
Distrustful and guarded, it's implied the survivors rejected technology, using it only where necessary, and never again creating artificial intelligence – referred to in modern 40k as 'abominable intelligence'. The tech priesthood of Mars largely stems from these events; collecting all knowledge and keeping it hoarded and away from those who might use it – for once the genie is out of the bottle, killer robots aren't far away. The Adeptus Mechanicus is generally seen as builders and scientists; practical engineers, but at root it's a questing religion that values knowledge. To the Cult, technology is a reflection of knowledge, rather than an end in itself.

Humanity relies on technology, however, so a balance has to be struck. STC-derived tech, is generally regarded as 'safe'; and (in-universe) it's for this reason that so many Imperial structures, vehicles and the like are visually identifiable as Imperial: it's simple, rugged, reliable and time-proven. In theory, the Adeptus Mechanicus monitor and control all technology. In practise, this is impossible, and there are thus non-STC technologies.

+ Innovations, recombinations and new technology +

Beyond the types of tech we've looked at above, there's new stuff occasionally created by the Adeptus Mechanicus. These start out as one-off devices to test out a magos' pet theory or similar. By virtue of being made by a magos, this is 'master-crafted' material; but in-universe there's an important distinction between craftsmanship  and innovation. The former is beyond reproach; the better the craftsmanship, the closer a device is to the perfection of the Machine God, from whom all machine spirits emanate. The latter potentially skirts blasphemy or heresy; but is not necessarily forbidden to the highest echelons of the techpriesthood – or at least those who are powerful enough to defend themselves from rivals.

It's easy to think of techpriests like modern scientists or engineers, but in terms of characterisation, they share as much in common with particularly conservative priests, dilettante 18th natural philosophers and classic fantasy wizards as those professions. While much of the culture leans away from creation as blasphemous (after all, it's akin to playing god), certain radicals – such as Belisarius Cawl – do manage to create genuinely new things.

This is far from normal; and unless a Techpriest has very powerful sponsors (like a Primarch, for example), he or she would likely be considered a heretek and killed. Instead, 'new' technology within the Imperium comes not from innovation, but from combining existing elements in different ways: STC-derived tech is a little like very complex Lego, if you like.

Hugely insular and hidebound – and for arguably very good reasons (no-one in universe wants killer AI back) – this new material is not usually researched and developed in the way a modern reader might imagine; but rather by piecing together existing STC designs (the holy writ of the Machine God) in new combinations. The creation of such devices is as likely to be led by a flight of fancy or reinterpretation of a partial text as anything else.
+ Visualising Standard Template Constructs  +
I like to imagine crumbling old print-outs found, like some latter-day Dead Sea Scrolls, in an ancient cavern, and pored over by generations of arguing techpriests; some producing heat-guns from what they can piece together, others a new sort of ship's engine – or perhaps a more reliable toaster. Whether any of these are the original intention is by-the-by: when the only tool you've got is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. The old background to the Rhino vehicle is an excellent example. Lacking a complete Armoured Personnel Carrier STC (because relatively few colonists needed such vehicles, and of those that did, no plans survived Old Night), humanity is instead served by a repurposed tractor, with advanced armour and high-power weapons crudely mated to the hull.

+ Heresy-era non-standard wrist-cannon +
On the battlefields of the 41st Millennium, the sort of innovative tech described above is very rare – the sort of thing we might see as in-game Relics; or wielded by a Magos Dominus of the Adeptus Mechanicus. This is because research and development has slowed to a near-halt in this period; things are sliding back into a new dark age.

This is nicely contrasted with the 31st Millennium – i.e. the Great Crusade period – where tech is still in development. The ur-example here is Space Marine Armour; and it's worth contrasting the improvement and refinement of power armour against the alternate patterns of boltguns.

The former is an example of how the rugged STC designs from across the galaxy can be combined to create new, better hybrid versions. The latter are simply different STC machines' answers to the same question, varying owing to local materials or conditions.

The point is that apparently new creations are much more likely to be reinterpretations or different combinations of existing Imperial technology than genuine innovation. Such creations may one-day be standardised – the various Space Marine flyers are examples of in-universe vehicles that have been reconstructed from ill-understood or partial STCs; and the Razorback is an example of a techmarine-led battlefield alteration, that was later sanctioned by the Adeptus Mechanicus – an act equivalent to historical religious doctrinal differences in the real world.

+++

+ Regional tech +

+ Nur Na Phom warrior; carrying non-standard local firearm. +
A final note here, on something that doesn't get discussed much; and that's regional tech. It's glossed over, or only touched on in the background, but if you want to do any 'deep thought' on how the galaxy really works, you quickly come to the conclusion that the Adeptus Mechanicus must either operate a sort of technological realpolitik as regards most materiel in the Imperium, or be constantly at war with tech-heretics – or both, of course!

Gamewise, we're familiar with weapons and equipment looking a certain way, or having easily-distinguished features, like the distinctive flash suppressors of lasguns. To some extent, this makes sense; particularly when we consider that STC-derived tech is explicitly said to look fairly similar the galaxy over. Nevertheless, the scale of the galaxy means that there must be huge variation, even within STC designs.

I don't regard this as a problem, however. The sort of double-think necessary to proscribe certain technologies to certain people while allowing them to others enriches the setting, rather than detracts from it.

Just as the representation of deities varies through culture and time, so I suspect at a macro-level the Mechanicus must police only egregious uses of technology – xenotech, for example, or corrupted technology; and leave the enforcement of the letter of tech-doctrine to the purview of the local techpriests.

The result would be a massively diverse, rich aesthetic; an inhabitant of the 41st Millennium would be surrounded by a chaotic and baroque mix of technologies as far removed from the models as we are from that time.

+++

+ Modelling Imperial tech +

+ Forget the promises of technology and science, for so
much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned.
+
From an out-of-universe point of view, identifiability is important for gaming. We need weapon types to look distinct from each other for clarity. However, this distorts the player's expectations of what the universe would look like; giving rise to rivet-counting suggestions that such-and-such weapon or armour can only look a certain way.

For pure modelling, creativity is the order of the day. I'd encourage you to use parts from all over to pursue your vision, even if they differ from the 'standard model' for a particular piece of tech. The Inq28 groups, epitomised by John Blanche's wonderful artwork and Blanchitsu-style of modelling, really capture this spirit well. I'd suggest that it's an equally valid reflection of the universe as the studio's.

I don't want to suggest that I dislike the cleaner look, either. Jes Goodwin's sculptural clean lines and cunningly-developed concept sketches create a sense of verisimilitude that is sometimes lacking in the more expressive Inq28 style.

For myself, I find myself stepping between two camps. I can see the appeal of accurately recreating the details of a particular mark of Space Marine armour – after all, unless we evoke the particular artwork, we can't really be said to have modelled it accurately; and accuracy will aid in recognition, leading to better, friendlier gaming, if that's a consideration. However, equally strongly, I think that the artist's vision should want to go beyond any specific fixed idea, and really show off a personal vision.

However, note I don't say that the more esoteric Inq28/Blanchitsu approach is more valid than the more coherent studio/Goodwin approach. Clean, uniform troops are fully within the scope of the setting; and it's the very juxtaposition of clean figures with spikier outré warriors is part of what gives 40k its punky aesthetic.

The whole point I'm making is that even the Imperial part of the 41st Millennium is huge – longer than recorded history, and spread across a million worlds. Viewed in this way, the idea that X technology only looks a certain way is clearly absurd; however restrictive and punitive the Adeptus Mechanicus are, there's always going to be a hungry family willing to break the rules to eat. The only real restrictions are therefore what you consider to strike the right balance between your own interpretation and that of the broader hobby – and even that only matters if you want to share it publicly.

In short, accuracy to the figures or a single style of art is not the only option. Hitching your cart to any artist or style is an inherently reductive approach – the best you can achieve is a facsimile. Quite apart from anything else, I argue it doesn't properly capture the underlying essence of Imperial technology, which is diverse, varied, and often bespoke. To the inhabitants of the 41st Millennium, technology is to be feared and honoured with equal, religion-tinged fervour; and never, ever trusted.

In sticking rigidly to any existing 'visual canon' – whether that given by the miniatures, or by a particular artist – we naturally restrict ourselves. I'd argue that far from properly representing the fictional universe, such rigidity slightly misses a strong part of the appeal of the grim darkness of the far future – and worse, discourages you from saying what you want to say.

In the grim darkness of the far – and fictional – future, there's no truth, and there aren't any gatekeepers to aesthetics. Every model you make, alone and when set alongside other miniatures, in different styles, already fits in perfectly.

+++

Monday, September 24

+ inload: Bristol Silence, the genestealer threat, and The Alien Wars +

+ Chrono-shunt active: Deadline deployed +

+ As the pict-capture below shows, it's not all games and theory for me – though if you fancy trying out some Gargant rules for the new Adeptus Titanicus, I'd very much appreciate your input [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+] – I'm also (slowly) getting on with my infiltrated PDF force for the Bristol Silence campaign. +


+ The only model that's recently reached a finished (bar the base) state is the officer above, thought the long and tedious batch-painting on the remaining infantry is starting to bear fruit. They've all reached what I consider the base-coat stage. The officer above was a test of how far I can realistically take such base-coated figures in a short period of time, and I'm pleased to say that he took only around twenty minutes to take to this state. That's given me a realistic target to aim for for the remainder; and I think I can probably tackle half a squad or so in an evening going forward. +

+ The second part of the force I'll be taking to Bristol is the genestealers, of course; but it wouldn't be me if they weren't converted or altered in some way – particularly since the Steel Legion models I'm using for the infiltrated PDF are for the most part unaltered. + 

+ Just as the Steel Legion will see double-duty in my Alien Wars project [REF: tab-bar at the top of the page – +noosphericinloadlink embedded+]as the ldebaran 4th/5th; so too will some of the genestealers appear in another project. +

+ As a little work-in-progress preview, here's the King of Beasts:




+++

LOOPACTIVE: Procrastination subroutine  +

+ As is traditional, in trying to finish the Steel Legion, I had the sudden urge to clear up other bits and bobs. The Blood Angels 3rd gained a lieutenant:


+ Fairly simple stuff, using the new Blood Angels lieutenant as the base, but with a few bits and bobs to make him fit in with the rest of the army. I wasn't a huge fan of the original's pose – the head in particular looks really awkward; and so I've opted for a more open feel, as though urging on his comrades. Creating M35 marines (for The Alien Wars project) is interesting – not quite so uniform as HH marines, nor so opulent as M41. +


+ ...And having popped open the Dark Imperium box to get sprues to build the Blood Angels lieutenant, the inevitable happened, and I got sidetracked building Death Guard. +


+ Such cool models! I've done some minor conversion work (altering poses I found awkward, and making the heads a bit more uniform) but the underlying models are so gorgeous (in a horrid gribbly way) that they just work. +


+ The design has some great callbacks to Jes' classic Plague Marine sculpt. I've no great plans for anything big with these, but they were a genuine delight to put together. If they're fun to paint, I might expand them a little. +


 + Like much of GW's recent Chaos releases, the dolorous chap carrying the great bell has an wonderfully over-the-top and silly name – my main objection to the Death Guard release was the stupid naming – but the figure itself is fantastic. The conversion work here was mainly trimming off the really over-the-top elements to reveal the underlying silhouette. A headswap to more closely match the iconic Death Guard helm gives him a bit of individuality, and I twisted the arm to give a swaggering motion. +

Tuesday, March 6

+ inload: Alien Wars inspiration I +

+ Fancy writing for the Alien Wars? +

+ A little colour text today, to (hopefully) provide a little inspiration for your #alienwars projects. The Twin Imperium of five thousand years is a broad palette, and I'm looking forward to shining some light on it with you all. +

I'm enjoying exploring a few different alleyways of the big picture, and will be posting up more short pieces of colour text like this to fire your model-making neurons, but I'd love to share your ideas, too.

+ If you'd like to contribute and have your Alien Wars writing posted up here, let me know in the comments (or on the Facebook page [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+] +

+ [inload datastate request] +

+ Submissions should be no more than 1000 words, clearly themed around the Nova Terra Interregnum, and ideally in *.Docx format. Submissions accompanied by model pictures will be prioritised. +


+++


+ Studies at an Alien University +

Sedimented, ancient dust cascaded from the book as Herm turned the cover back, releasing the aroma of the Haahon along with the creaking and cracking of some form of leather. The scent was stale, of course, but not unpleasant. They hadn't died to protect this. The fleecy, phytotic aliens had fallen back in good order, their study-space packed with double-blind alleys. Even the Pragsimal Rifles – elite, urban-trained soldiers – had to take their time squirrelling out the Haahon from the airy, coral-coloured buildings; clearing room after room. The crackle of small arms fire still echoed through the xenos university; but distantly. Herm's armsmen stood watch; but not at full alert.

The word 'book' sold it short. It was most definitely a tome. Thick and solid, it had a pleasing heft to it. The cover, like the book – like the architecture of the study – was triangular. Screened by a dome of some glassy, semi-transparent substance, daylight fell through to the study generously, easing any sense of danger. Even with the broken panes above, the scattered rubble and the distant smoke visible across the bay, this was an oddly comforting place, thought the Inquisitrix. She shrugged, privately. Xeno-holds usually felt subtly wrong. Even amongst species similar in broad proportions to humanity, surfaces were often at unexpected heights; objects at strange eye-levels.

Not so here. The Haahon were peculiar in this way: they venerated humanity. Emulated it; despite their biology being so grossly different. Some brief contact during the Great Scouring – a mere smear of cultural crossover – seemed to have led the ancient Haahon into a cargo cult of sorts. The Inquisitrix pictured them. Strand-dwelling groups; lurking near mist-haunted sea-shores, quivering as the humans emerged from their glittering craft.

It had made an impression. Five thousand years later, the Haahon stood at the brink of interplanetary travel. They had built a paradise of airy coral-coloured buildings, and colonised their two moons. And all this, the Inquisitrix thought, inspired only by material lost or discarded during some long-forgotten Rogue Trader's brief landings.

She allowed herself a satisfied smirk, as she leafed through the pages of the tome. They were illegible to her; though Maron was capable of deciphering it. The thought banished her satisfaction. How much have we lost, she pondered, that we are forced to steal our knowledge back from children-species?

She drew a hand slowly over her bestubbled head, a habit she had when gathering her thoughts. She would kill a dozen – a hundred – such species to restake humanity's claim on the stars. Terra may have stagnated and turned inward, but the Ur-Council was ascendant. Nova Terra had ambition. They had ideas – and best of all, they had worlds pledged to their cause of rediscovery and rebirth. Twenty thousand worlds. Herm's eyes glittered. Twenty thousand worlds today; and more tomorrow. This is the future of the Imperium; united under the Emperor, with a clear view of the past and the future.

Herm's eyes hardened as she swept the book up and turned to leave. Her scribe, Maron, bowed; as did Vonreuter and Cleme, her Pragsimal armsmen.

'Back to the ship. We have what we came for.'

'Another piece of the puzzle, zir-mam?' queried Maron.

She nodded.

'Just so. We will piece our heritage back together; if it takes another five thousand years. We have let things slip. Too much has been lost already under the suzerainty of small-minded Terran scribes. The Ordos already see the way the wind is blowing,' she said, darkly.

+++


Monday, December 18

+ inload: Nur. Na. Phom. +


The spindle trees here are long and whip-thin, and completely still. Even with half-a-ton of unman scratching its worm-ridden arsehole against the repellent bark with a look of idiot bliss, the ominous trees remain utterly, obscenely, inert.

Worse. Every single tree stretches high; maddeningly high, towards a sky as white and dead as a beached sea-ray. As though providing some cosmic balance with the impossible trees, it writhes. Flat and blank, and somehow in motion. The gelds studiously avoid looking at it.

It is in Drone's inhabitants. You can see it. As bullet enters meat, great heavy clouds of blood – slick and red and dark as sorrow – belch out. Along with their despairing, bovine screams, they weep out clouds of luminous... something.

We are Nur Na Phom. Humanity paradigmatic. Our gene-weave has been stripped and refined and engineered to survive; parsing away inherent weaknesses of our kin. Thus we survive our toxic homeworld – and thus we resist the moon-mist better than many.

Better. Not perfectly.

No.

Other Martinets see – mock, accuse – flaws in individuals. I see further. This is not a flaw in our genescaping. Whatever is behind Drone's fecundity underlies the fundamental limits of humanity. This is beyond us.

+++

+ The Monitor +

+ The euphemistic 'Monitors' have been assigned to many of the invading regiments, their tasks nebulous and unclear. Unlike the Nur of Na Phom, they certainly appear baseline human, and are thus cloaked and hooded, the better to ward off any miasmatic influence of the Moon of Drone. +


+ Their equipment, appearance and role clearly varies, but at whose command their Fell Osseous quills scrawl, and what they record, is anyone's guess. This example, bears one of the infamous Liber Negra of Aulos; on the leaves of which are recorded the writhing and esoteric lament of the transcendant being Yes+

+ Na Phom+

Na Phom geld with typical equipment.
+ The ritualistic and fatalistic culture of Nur No Phom stems from their wizened and artificially restricted gene pool; refined, cut down and stripped back savagely, in a desperate effort to trim away any potential vector for genetic poly-corruption; a response to an endemic threat that catastrophically altered the culture of the world; causing a mass extinction event that nearly saw the end of the colonists. +

+ Barely-legibale STC bank scrolls, studiously copied for generations – the originals long-lost – indicate that the people of Na Phom were force to abdicate genetic diversity in order to avoid extinction. A few strains of resistant humans were developed; that has been further winnowed by subsequent developments in the swamp-borne polyvirus. +

+ Today, all inhabitants of Nur Phom are all-but genetically identical; and regard themselves as ur-examples of humanity – a stable strain of being that is somehow 'more accurately human' than the rest of the Imperium. Given this opinion, one might expect the Na Phom to be arrogant or supercilious, but they are typically taciturn and stoic, sluggish and fatalistic. Most are entirely indifferent to their way of being, seeing little of note in it's disparity from the cultures around them. +

+ Such lack of diversity has its drawbacks. The Na Phom are catastrophically infertile, with barely one in two hundred able to procreate; and then only with a great deal of mechanical and medical oversight. As with their curious lack of interest in cultural self-reflection, so do few philosophies or cultures indigenous to Na Phom fetishise or even seem to value fertility, as one might expect. Instead, it is seen as a burdensome – even irksome – duty; with most Na Phom regarded the ability to excel in their duties, which are assigned in their early years, as the value to which to aspire. +


+ The Nur +

Gelds perfom most typical line infantry roles. 
+ The Nur form the military corps of Na Phom. Owing to the similarities between individuals, and a culture that emphasises excelling on behalf of others (for when those around you are closer than fraternal siblings, why not cooperate?) they operate as specialised medium infantry; working in groups of Gelds in support of Martinets. +

While they are genetically refined, their exceptionalism does not grant them particular advantages in combat. The Nur are not inherently stronger or resilient than other typical baseline humans.+

+ Their narrow but rigid band of genetic material is highly resistant to cancer and other genetic deviance, including that caused by low doses of alchaemical radiation. Combined with the strong immune defence built during a childhood on Na Phom does grant them some natural limited resistance to toxins, and a relatively quicker recovery time from traumatic injury; a trait exacerbated by the ready availability of blood transfusions, organ donation and the like. +

+ The Geld +

Gelded catechumen
+ Na Phom unable to breed are gelded in a coming-of-age ceremony; their generative organs irrepairably irradiated in order to reduce instances of tumorous growth. Gelds are more placid and obedient – though this makes them no less dangerous to the enemy – and operate in loose bands, directed by Martinets. +


+ The Nur rely on supporting air power and armour for heavier-duty strikes. Their standard-issue small arms are re-structured Chen-pattern las-spitters; light, rapid-firing but inaccurate – ideal for short-range firefights. +


+ Geld are not indentured. While most are largely indifferent to abstract concepts of freedom – being perfectly happy to serve alongside their peers – there is still a structure and rank system in place. This is mainly based on age and seniority. Younger Gelds join the ranks as catachumen; loosely equivalent to Whiteshields.

+ Martinets +

+ Marked out by genetic refinement, the skin of Martinets is rendered a soft, pastel blue redolent of ancient gods. Martinets direct and control swirling bands of Gelds, serving as an officer class. Despite the risks inherent to the military, and the continuing genetic shadow under which the population of Na Phom lives, Martinets continue to serve on the front line. +

Their presence on the battlefield undoubtedly has a ceremonial aspect to it, but there is also a societal reason many Martinets join the Nur: those who demonstrate military command ability are regarded as worthy of political tenure after their service is complete. +

Martinet on Unman

+ Unmen +

+ The polyvirus did not just attack mankind. Perhaps the great irony of Na Phom is that while their now-mythical STC system allowed them to manipulate their own genes to survive, the settlers were, for whatever reason, unable to maintain their partner species. +

+ Dogs, cattle, grox, birds and nearly all other higher lifeforms were wiped out by the virus, necessitating the back-breeding of analogues from resistant human stock. Today, manhounds, homo sub. equus and numerous other stabilised abhuman forms 'enjoy' an existence on Na Phom as 'unmen'; distinctly speciated by physical and cultural adjunct. +

+ Whether they remain blissfully ignorant of their lineage, or are somehow distantly aware of their stolen birthright, is a mystery that is unlikely to be resolved. +

Tuesday, November 28

+ inload: Iron Sleet invitational +


+ Forgive a little self-indulgence; I finished my contribution towards the Thorn Moons Crusade [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+] last night, and am really looking forward to sharing them. +

+ I'll do my own little rundown on the figures after the event, as I took the opportunity to try some techniques and ideas that had been bubbling away for ages. Not everything worked perfectly, but I think that's rather the charm of creating something utterly fresh, and with a set time limit. It helps to focus the mind! +

+ Anyway, I'm waiting with baited respiro-autocycling to see the other 99(!) contributions – a stunning response that really goes to show quite how inspirational, productive and active the Iron Sleet blog – and the broader Inq28/Blanchitsu noosphere – can be. Thanks again, Toni and the rest of the gang. +

+ In other news +

+ The PCRC's Necromunda-expy, Golgotham, has a new noospheric node – Hive Confronsis [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+]. This is a bit of a new thing for the PCRC, and we'd love it if you want to follow along – so come have have a look. Things are still being bolted into place, but there's some lovely colour text and ideas already fermenting away in the tabs at the top. +

Monday, November 20

+ inload: Thorn Moons invitational update +

+ The Nor of Na Phom +

From left, we've got a Geld, a Martinet on the Unman, a Monitor (rear), then two other Gelds; the one at the front being a fresh recruit, marked out by his consignment pelt.

+ Basic information on this project can be found in this earlier inload [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+], but today I finally finished putting the group together. I had (just about) hit the earlier deadline for submitting WIP pict-captures – you can see the results on Iron Sleet itself here [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+] – though they were at a faintly embarrassing level of non-completion. +

+ Spool on a couple of weeks, and I've got all five (arguably six, depending on how you read the unman) ready for paint.  +


+ The project was a lot of fun. Getting a balance between creative individuality, without making the group incoherent, required a lot of back-and-forth work. +

+ The figures are unabashedly retro – I like trying to use the most modern components I can find to give a fresh take on older 40k tropes; so these five have a dash of pop-culture Vietnam, a dose of technobarbarism, and a hefty splodge of 2000AD. This latter influence will come through still more in the painting, as I fancy a blue-skinned approach for the Na Phom to help solidify their non-standard humanity, and to contrast with the unman, who I'm planning to use my more practised skin techniques upon. Quite apart from anything else, I haven't used blue in ages, and this seems a great opportunity. +

+ Conversion work +


+ The pict-capture above is of the pre-primed figures, so you can see the conversion work and sculpting – this is mainly finer detail work (pouches, straps, hair etc.) which is fairly subtle, but adds up to distance the figures from their original purpose. In so doing, I hope the Warhammer Fantasy feel has been successfully submerged beneath a 40k ident. The Unman required the most work, with the face proving the most challenging (and rewarding) part. +

+ There's a lot of parts involved, some of which are a bit obscure, but the Gelds are basically Solar Auxilia legs with Tzeentch Marauder torsos and Khorne Marauder heads. +