Fluff 'n' Stuff

nice zack! also stephan has some cool stuff there! really keeps with the eldar character!

The ground exoloded into a plume of fire where Bakari exited the warpgate. His head was still throbbing from his test from tzeentch. Something glinted in his eye that made him look up. A massive, elegant castle, adorned with gold, silver and intricate designed. It wasn't hard to figure that this is where Slaanesh took residence. He would have to be extreemly carefull as he had heard legends of this place. It wasn't so much a castle as it was a trap. A maze filled with rooms of extreem temtations that no man could resist. He placed his sword on his back, where it mysteriously hovered, following him everywhere. He was absolutely astonished by it's powers, and he was sure as long as he lived it would never cease to amaze him. As he approached the main doors, adorned in jewely and etched gold plating, it opened for him right as he went to touch it. The inside was absolutely exquisite, plush red carpets with warm tourches and the faint sent of a good meal being cooked. Bakari was not distracted, as he no longer needed to eat. The main hallway forked off in several winding directions. He had no idea where to start, suddenly an image flashed in his mind far to fast to recognize it, but as he looked up he saw a dingy yellow symbol written one of the walls in the far left hallway. It was 3 hooks surrounding a dot, the top hook looking like a ?, the bottom 2 facing eachother, the right far more curved than the left. He took this as an obvious sign and followed that hallway. There were many doors along the way but he didn't dare open any. All the sudden along the hallway, a mountain of gold, jewels, silver, and other treasures flooded the way. A small path led through however. Bakari, perplexed, stared at it a moment. Was this one of the traps? He watched for a moment, and began walking the path past it. He had no need for riches, for he knew that what his master offered was far greater than any fortune. As soon as he finished that thought the fortune dissapeared. Bakari saw many of these yellow signs along the way, showing his path. As he was walking he noticed a massive, elequant archway leading into a warm, welcoming room. He saw the sign clearly at the end of the hall away from this room but somehow could not resist entering. After all the path would wait while he explored a little wouldn't it? He walked in the room to find a massive bed by a fireplace, lit and welcoming. He was startled by a soft voice behind him. "You must be very weary traveler. Join me for a while won't you? It gets so lonely in this castle." Bakari tuned to see the most transfixing, beautifull woman he has ever laid eyes on. Her soft whiper seemed right in his ear "your journy will wait for you, you sikmply cannot go on without some much needed, and well earned rest..." bakari felt himself slowely walking towards her. Not in his own body but seemed to watch himself from outside. He was so tired, after all, he could not possibly complete slaanesh's test being so weary as he was now could he? He stood before her and she began whispering to him again. "No man can resist, you are no different. It is hopeless to try. Join me won't you?" Hopeless to try? Why would he need to resist? Something told him this wasn't what it seemed. Right as he realized this the womans form changed. A disgusting purple skinned daemonett now stood before him, a blade sticking out of her wrist . She suddenly thrust it at him, the elongated spike flying straight to his heart. Suddenly it stopped. He arm fell to her side. She collapsed on the floor right after her head did. Bakari placed his sword back on his back and wiped the blood from his face. He would not venture again from his path. As he exited the now dark, musky room, he saw no more winding twisting hallways, but a dark, wooden staircase going deep down into the earth. Following it down the same mysterious light from tzeentches realm lighted his way. He looked about and saw chains with hooks hanging from the ceilings, iron coffins with massive spikes inside, and tables with leather fastenings stained with blood. He heard horrible screams and sounds of evil laughter. He needed to remember slaanesh was not only the prince of pleasure, but of sadistic pain also. As he rounded the corner he say about 5 daemonetts all hard at work, tourchering poor souls, now slaves to slaanesh. They turned towards him and hissed, spat and screamed at him. They were on him in no time, incredibly fast and a flurry of attacks. Bakari blocked only a few but many seemed to narrowly miss or simply slow right before they hit him just enough to render the blows powerless alas he was outnumbered and soon these creatures overwhelmed him. He was backed into a corner now. He let out a roar and took one mighty cleaving attack with his sword, downing 3 of them in one mighty blow. Empowered by this bloodfrenzy he made short work of the other 2. He would have to be more carefull. Although hastur's and tzeentch's wards protected him from death, they still managed to get a few good hits on him. Had there been any more he didn't know if he would have made it. He quickly found his way out and saw himself in a large royal throne room. Far down the hall he saw Him sitting on his throne, holden a golden, jewel encrusted cepter. Bakari quickly averted his eyes as he knew that if he looked into slaaneshes face he would certainly be lost to his will. Slaanesh was in large royal robes and chose to take the form of a slender female probably hoping to tempt bakari once more. "Fool me once shame on me..." he muttered under his breath looking down as he walked across the hall. Slaanesh was clapping excitedly for him when he reached her (yes slaaneshes gender just changed the way I reffer to him but that's really what he/she does) "very good! You almost lost it there at the start, but you are a bright one! Not any intrest in the gold then? Intresting..." bakari knelt on one knee and looked down to make sure he kept his eyes away. "Your majesty, I have made it through the maze and fought your warriors to get here, I ask you for your blessing." "Ah, of coarse. You know I know that you didn't alone make it through the maze. Yet the fighting, and the resisting of my temptations, that was all you...what is it you desire?" Her voice was so smooth, Bakari found it took all his concentration to look stright at the floor. "Your warriors are incredible. So fast, I hardly had time to react. I wish to have yyour blessing in the way of martial prowess." At that moment bakari felt something on his right hand. He looked down to see a massive gauntlet with crackling claws at the end of each finger. On top was a double barreled bolter attached on. He lifted it up and did so with ease as it weighed nothing. He swung it and the blades sung through the air. His arm was a blur as he did so. "A gauntlet fit for a king..." Slaanesh then showered Bakari with a plume of golden dust. "And not so cumbersome like the rest of your kind tends to be. You will find yourself much more able in combat now, nimble and quick, able to out manuver all but my own greater daemons now." Bakari almost looked up to thank her, but remembered right as he began to lift his head. Slaanesh laughed at him. "You are very entertaining Mortal, you would be well advised to not look into your own master's face as well, unless you wish to take a plunge from your own sanity." Bakari had never seen his master without his helmet off, and had never thought of it until now. He knew he was not what he seemed to be but what could that be? Could hastur be a daemon of the warp? No...his master was very powerful, he had seen Him command Great daemons without them even questioning him. Perhaps something darker..."you would be very wise to do as he asks. Your master morecould ever imagine....now leave this place, you have no time for dawdling!" Bakari shook himself from his thoughts, a massive yellow sign appeared in front of him and another warpgate opened in front of him. Bakari would need to find out more of his master soon....

tlc247 wrote:My main point is that if you're going to base your story off an actual match, try to be true to what happened in the match. If you're going to make up a story off the top of your head, then go for it. Basing a story off a match, and then re-writing what happened in the match (which squad killed what, or who died when and how) can be offensive to the other player. For example:

Chaplain Falkener leaped out of the Rhino, at the head of his Death Company, and triggered the canister on his Combi-flamer. The ensuing flames left nothing but charred remains of the entire mob, and the Company turned their charge towards the slightly larger mob cowering behind the first. With the destructive power of the Death Star, they slammed into the Ork boyz, and in a matter of three seconds, the eight men of the Death Company had killed over a thousand Orks. Falkener's sensors registered another presence approaching from the west. Falkener turned his head to see Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka attempting to sneak around behind him. Having been caught in his subterfuge, Ghazghkull immediately began to babble sheepishly, backing up as he tried to discreetly poke at various buttons on his armor.

"Duh... sorree 'bout dem! Deyz been givin' meh prob-umz and miss beh-havinz for a whyl now. Ah shur am glad yoo tawt demz a lessun. Ay'll jus' be... um..."

Falkener walked calmly and coldly towards him, obviously paying no attention to the babbling, approaching in a way that made him seem as inevitable as death itself. Ghaz finally gave up the discretion and slammed his adamantium forehead into the forearm of his power klaw several times, screaming as he did so. Ghaz's forearm sparked a few times, and then a light flashed on and Ghaz's personal tellyporta fired up, taking him back to the safety of being surrounded by hundreds of other Orks.


...

Is that a fair "fluff story" to describe our match? Obviously not. Even if I remove the parts that are directly insulting to the orks (stuff like how the second mob was *cowering* behind the first), I feel safe in saying that Alex would be offended by the description of the fight, and rightly so. It gives no credit where credit is due. There are parts of my story that sound insulting, but are actually accurate. Ghaz *was* trying to sneak up behind me, for example.

ok i get your point now. didnt mean to offend you.

ok me and scotts match today.


ork warboss tuska came out of warp looking for a fight. needless to say the closest planet was infeasted with tyranid but tuska was not worried one bit. he wanted to fight so bad infact he landed on the planet without thinking there was space marines right were he had landed. so of course tuska was filled with the ork rage and thrill of a fight! he, his boys mobs, his deffkoptas and his lesser warboss frattar-deamon killa rushed into the battle. at first the orks were doing well. but the tide turned and his ork army was getting destoryed by this space marine army. the space marine tanks were dwindling his numbers fast along with destroying his deffkoptas. next thing you know frattar-deamon killa was face to face with santiago. frattar said "ooh fresh meat frattar 'ill kill you and mount your 'uman head on my bosspole. frattar didnt stand a chance for this powerful being. santiago struck him down before frattar-deamon killa had a chance to strike back. santiago replied "pathetic ork scum your power does not compare to mine." santiago struck down the rest of frattars mob with the help of a preist and his assault squad. and moved toward tuska with great speed to clean this flith upon this planet. tuska saw santiago coming toward him and he let out a battle cry that would have had scared a tyranid hive fleet. He unleshed his WAAAAAAGGH! with trerrible force it shook the earth below. tuska sprinted toward him only to be joinded with a group of nobz rushing toward the WAAAAGGH he later found out he was no match for santiago when nobz were destroyed a small herd of boys mob attacked them just long enough for tuska to fly away in his ship. he had left his boyz mob to be stranded and be vanguished by the space marines.

so how do you guys like it. post if you find anything wrong. good match scott.

also, alex's nob wiped a squad of jump marines quite viciously!
yeah good game dude, and no worries- it will pick up really quick once you get some time in with your army. plus the dice really decided it today is all.

Once again Bakari warped out of his portal, the same burst of fire around him as last time. He suspected this to be the work of his sword but was unsure. He looked up to see a massive mountain of skulls and a brass throne on top. Of course he knew khorne was next but it threw him off to not have to search for him this time. He worked his way up a blood stained brass staircase to the top of the throne. Bakari bowed as soon as he got to the top of he knew khorne was not known for his kindess. "Mighty blood got, master of skulls. I have traveled long to get here and now I beseech you for your blessing." Khorne's voice was like a deep growl from an animal "I smell the others on you. Your master told me of your coming, otherwise my minions would already be on you... I see you have gained their favor already." He sounded angry but Bakari assumed that he pretty much sounded like that all the time. At least he want yelling, that was a good sign "bahhh! What use are their blessings when you are up against a monstrous creature of the tyrranids, or surrounded by an orc mob? I will grant you true power if you earn it. Prepare yourself puny one, this time for a REAL challenge!" Before Bakari could reply there was a loud crack and he found himself back on the scorched earth below the tower of skulls. Massive iron walls grew from the ground surrounding him creating an arena. He prepared himself for a fight "Let us see if you are even worthy for my true test" khorne's wicked laughter sounded as warpgates were opened all around bakari. 15 or so screaming thrashing bloodletters surrounded him now. Bakari wasted no time and chared right in, his bolter full blaze, taking out 3 or 4 of them. He was a blur, slashing his claw straight through their bodies with ease. Rushing from one enemy to the next. They were no match for his newfound speed. Without a scratch Bakari let out a roar, thirsty for more. Khorne let out his violent laughter once more "aha! A true warrior, I should never have doubted Hastur. Prepare yourself for the real test." A thundering crash behind bakari made him jump and roll, he looked up to see a massive winged bloodthirster, dualwielding 2 massive brass axes screaming in a daemonic language. Bakari would have to use different tactics this time as there was no way he could block the daemon's blows. Bakari began shooting his bolter but soon realized this would not work. His bullets petered uselessly off the daemons thick hide. The daemon, enraged, charged himself at bakari, but he was slow and combersome, and bakari quickly jumped from his path. The daemon slammed into the massive iron wall, narrowly missing the massive impaling spikes all along the inside walls. With the beast stunned, bakari took this oppertunity to attack, he ran in and slashed across the back of the daemons leg, severing its hamstring. The beast let out a bloodcurtling scream and slashed back with one of it's axes. It flew straight at bakari but was forcefully curved at the last moment. It slammed one down right ontop of bakari, but connected only with dirt. Being warped around so much, bakari had learned how to manipulate this power just enough to jump through small distances. He was now behind the beast again and severed off one of its wing. It whipped it's tail at bakari knocking him back and down, stunned, as he had no armor to help protect himself the beast once again tried to slam his axe straight down ontop of him, but bakari was still faster, he rolled out of the way. Bakari stabbed his sword down on the beast's hand pinning it to the ground and quickly jumped up his arm ontop of it hopeing to finish it quickly. The daemon, enraged grasped bakari in his other hand and began to squeeze the life out of Bakari. It didn't realize that without his sword bakari was not unarmed and paid dearly for it. Bakari slashed at the bottom of his arm severing several tendons, rendering the arm useless, bakari jumped out, a blur he was so quick, grabbed his sword from the other hand, still pinned to the ground, and latched onto it's chest, his claws burried in his chest. He took his sword and stabbed it's chest several times and finally, used his claw, reached deep into it's chest, and ripped it's still-beating heart out, the moment he did he found himself on the throne again. "Well done mortal but there is no time, quick, swallow the heart of the daemon to receive my gift!" Bakari did not dare question khorne and did so immediately. Bakari felt a surge of power, his eyes lit ablaze with white fire and he let out a battlecry "BLOOD FOR THE BLOODGOD!! SLAUGHTER ALL WHO OPPOSE HIM!!" He quickly subdued himself and his eyes went down to a small, eery glow. Khorne was obviously very pleased. "It feels good doesn't it Bakari...such power. The daemon's essence is now inside you. Your strength will be unmatched by any on the battlefield...do not worry. You are in complete controll. The daemon will not overtake you and contoll you...for you are now merged into one" Bakari kneeled before him and wiped the blood from his mouth "Thank you keeper of skulls, I will put the fear of you into the heart of the enemies!" And with that, bakari disapeared into the warp. He reappeared in front of his master hastur. "Welcome back, you have done exactly as I said. You are the first one to reach daemon prince status and still be able to call yourself still a human." Bakari noticed he had not yet left the warp. "Master, I sense we are still in the warp but, where are we?" Hastur replyed "this...this is MY realm of chaos, and it is YOUR kingdom. I needed a mortal to become my personal link to the world. You will rule over my worldy empire...soon, every mortal will quail at the very sound of your name, from here on out, all but myself, and the other 4 Dark gods will know you as The Dark Emperor." Bakari's eyes widened as he realized what his master truely was. He began to laugh uncontrollably, and hastur joined in with his mad cackling. Bakari was losing his sense of reality, but he didn't care. He had just become the most powerfull man alive, and with his King guiding him, they would take over the universe. "Now..." hastur said "we have much work to do. Converting my small band of mercanaries into your dark legion will not be a trivial task." Bakari bowed his head "yes, my king" and hastur dropped to his knee "let us begin, your majesty..."

...and THAT is the story behind my version of abbadon. Since, he has gone completely insane as I tried for foreshadow but now his legion is a massive force not to be trifeled with. They will accept recruits of any race, showing them the true power of chaos, intent on destroying their only threat from the universe...the imperium. Devided as they are now, they will never stop The Dark Emperor and his millions of followers, their only chance is to unite against him before it is too late...The Emperor often shows up on the battlefield himself, as he has overcome death, he has nothing to fear, most of the time when he is removed from the field it is because hasur has called him back to the warp (as the emperor himself is far too pridefull to ever leave the field even when his cause there is lost) or his sword exhibits one of its strange powers, sometimes transforming Bakari back into an ethereal form where he can not be seen nor attacked by mortals, where he assists the rest of the battle in unseen ways.

Lil Finnigan wrote:also, alex's nob wiped a squad of jump marines quite viciously!
yeah good game dude, and no worries- it will pick up really quick once you get some time in with your army. plus the dice really decided it today is all.

yeah forgot about the jump marines. i was to worried about all my other guys dieing

nah no worries bout the game. you never know what can happen in 40k!

yeah. i found that out. atleast u found that out early

nazdreg ug urdgrub v.s. santiago


nazdreg was making his way toward his encampment of his little war band of bad moonz. when he stumbled and fell down into a summoned warp hole. he was sucked into it with such great force that he couldnt pull himself out of this hole. he poped into this huge colossium. he stood up and looked around to see a huge being sitting on throne made of skulls. then came this huge booming voice it echoed around the colossium the voice said, " Nazdreg Ug Urdgrub warboss of the clan badmoonz of the race orks. I have brought you here for i am bored and looking for a fight." "I dont not wish to fight you for i would destory you in a matter of a second. i have brought a challenger for you. Santiago." Nazdreg was filled of the orky rage that orks have when they going into battle. Santiago stepped out of this cage that had inprisoned him and saw nazdred. he quickly pulled out his sword and flew toward him with vigor. while he was soaring through the air he shot his plasma pistol at him. nazdreg sprinted to him and suddenly was hit by the pistol and left a little hole in his armour but it didnt faze him when he glanced down for just a second to get a better look at the wound it left. when he looked up was met by the sword of santiago. he reacted by grabbing the sword with his klaw and ripping it out of santiagos hand and threw it across the colossium, it glidded to a hault in a corner. while santiago was weapon less nazdreg then pinned santiago to the ground. while this was happening the chaos god said "I want the fight to last longer." so he threw nazdreg into a corner. nazdreg landed into a spike with great force that it stuck him through his armour. nazdreg pulled it out quickly and threw it to the ground. santiago picked up his sword and flew to nazdreg and stabbed him before nazdreg could react. santiago twisted the sword in the orks skin. nazdreg did something that santiago couldnt even predict. nazdreg picked him up and shot him in the stomach, santiago fell to the ground. but his sword was still in nazdreg. nazdreg pulled the sword out of him and broke it in half. the chaos god laughed hard and loud, the sound boomed throughout the colosium. he said, "what a match im impressed." then the god spoke in some different tongue that nazdreg did not know and santiago was back alive and in full strength. santiago tried to kill nazdreg but the god forced him away and said " go back to were you both came." nazdreg once again was pulled into the warp and was spit out were he was before. he checked himself and saw he had no wounds. nazdreg continued his journey back to his encampment to tell his boys where he was and what he had done.


the real match didnt go like that. santiago beat nazdreg because the dice didnt favor my attacking turn. good duel scott

yeah man good duel- interesting fluff!

thanks i tried to come up with something that was like totally out of the blue

On the now twisted lands of Craftworld Biel-Tan, the warp has finally been closed. As the Elder began to recover their cities, they suddenly become overwhelmed with dance. Many Elder warriors trying to fend of the little Daemons of Chaos left by the warp. Led by the infamous Eldar Harlequin Troupe, a group of Wraithlords seek out into the shadows of the slumbered planet. For days these Eldar warriors searched with obsession to find Chaos. Little did they know they were being followed by daemons that chose to stay and fight for their almighty God, Slaanesh. Slowly perverting the minds of these Eldar warriors, a greater Daemon of Slaanesh let her music ring. This greater Daemon, once the student of the Masque, thriving to make a name for herself as well in the honor of her great God. Swiftnesh, plays music so sweet and perverse, bringing the Eldar fools to their death. Swiftnesh, with her Daemonettes are soon to make their mark on this planet. Harlequin Troupe and his Wraithlords stop to rest from the long stormy day. In the late hours of the night Harlequin's Wraithlords start to dance. Thinking they are dancing to keep their spirits up, he then soon joins in. Their dancing soon lasts deep into the next day, the Eldar scum then restless from their dancing let their guard down. From shadows, trees, and behind rocks the Eldar are soon plagued by Daemonettes. The laughter of these mighty warriors begins to grow as they slash blood everywhere. Troupe soon cut down 48 Daemonettes before catching the eye of Swiftnesh. Suddenly overcome with dance, Troupe moves towards her. Swiftnesh playing move erotic, and sadistic as ever, as though the Masque is assisting her with marvelous passion. Soon the song fades and a duel has begun. With all the Wraithlords deceased, the rest of Swiftnesh's Daemonettes only hold back to watch these two heroes clash into the night. Troupe with utter dismay fights to hold onto hope that he may survive this brutal assault. As though his hope begins to fade, an arsenal of Howling Banshees appear from no where. Again with Daemonettes and Eldar blood spilling, as though there was nothing but demise for Troupe, he then fades into the night. Swiftnesh, feeling extreme hate and disappointment for not stealing the soul of her adversary turns to the Banshees. With every strike, she tore into the Banshees, each one as though it were Troupe, each pathetic Banshee as if it would bring her closer to her victory. The Eldar soon heard of this frightening Daemonette, and for years will dance to her song. A song that will play forever more until the day she meets her prey. Long will be the nights for Troupe after the twisted perversions of his rival, yet new love, Swiftnesh.

LOL I was doing too many things at one time, but I gave it a try.

HIDEOUS!!!! dude nice fatty- this is why i hate demons!

it was the stillness of the battle that gave him pause. That suddenly all around him, though bolter fire and scream energies blasted to deafening pitch, it all seemed distant.
and then from behind, wisps of black smoke. Oily and thick, they twisted up his ankles and entwined around his middle. wet, coppery stench choked his breath even as he stumbled away.
Something screamed in his head, a ringing that grew until it was no longer simply a sound, but a throbbing beat. perhaps a heart. not human, pumping blood and fluid, but a calling drum heralding something worse.
And from the depth of the smoke, now black flames rising higher, something heaved it's self up. Dripping with gore, dark wings, ragged but strong, unfurled slowly.
with each passing second the throbbing grew louder, and it was almost as though disembodied voices chanted along, foretelling him of the violence that stood before him.

its long lash felt to the ground, unwinding like a severed sinew. from deep within itself, it produced a wicked weapon, hot from the things rage. as the smoke and flames licked his form, the blood thirster drew its self into it's full height.

"Captain..." the words rolled out like a quake, shaking all nearby. they were deeper than could be imagined, yet terrifyingly piercing "....I've found you"

Before he could move, before he could think, he was struck. a vicious kick from the thing's cloven hoof. Such was the force that he knew no more, and his vision and senses blackened.
sent flying through battle field debris, he found himself under a weight of discarded rubble. lifting himself with great effort, he heaved it aside as best he could.

he heard it before he saw it. diving from the wreckage he turned to see the demon crush the mound under his weight. dust and smoke could not obscure it, and he watched as it came on.

"my master calls you Santiago. Why do you not answer...?" on it came, slowly as to savor the moment.

Brutal, purely brutal!

wow that story made me all hot and bothered, good job

Straightening himself, the captain drew his sword. "Offer my apology,” raising it high, he began to walk. “When I send you back to him.”
Enraged, the demon drew its self up, letting out a numbing roar. Flames drew up around him and blasted the ground at his feet. Charging, he drew back his weapon. But before he struck, the captain was already on the offensive. Dashing from an insultingly casual walk to a darting thrust, he tore into the thing, spilling ichor and black hell-blood from the wound. Wrenching the blade free, he swung up and into the chest, slashing through thick muscle that recoiled at the blow. The messenger of khorne bellowed in anger, stepping into the next blow. Sweeping the assaulting blade from its course, he accepted the minor hurt as it dug into his hand.
Drawing back again, he struck Santiago to the ground. As the captain rose to his feet, he quickly raised his sword to meet the descending weapon. The force drove him back down, and the demon quickly struck again. Diving to the side instead of crumpling under the strength of the monster, the captain slashed at the exposed knees and arms. He felt the blade cut deep, but then stop, the beast’s flesh too favored of his master.
Suddenly seized by the throat, the blood thirster lifted him to eye level.
“No apologies will be accepted. My lord is not easily offended, but you have defied him openly.” Santiago felt the thing’s rage begin to manifest itself as a burning heat, one that threatened to consume him. “Do not mistake me for a messenger only Captain Santiago. I am the deliverer too, one that will lay you at my master’s feet!”
The heat was unbearable, searing body and soul. He blacked out several times, in and out, while he hung there, the thing roaring upwards, praising the blood god.
Then, he felt it. His own rage, pure and mighty, began to grow. From deep inside, even from his own soul, came the strength he needed. His very being cried out defiance to this thing, to its master. And with it, a righteous force. Radiant light shot from the cracks and rents in his broken armor. The demon stumbled, blinded. With a mighty effort, Santiago tore himself from his grip. As he fell released, he swept up his sword. Upon touching it, the blade alight with a white fire and light.
The demon regained itself now, and beheld the captain. Santiago strode toward him again, this time not only defiant, but mighty, over-whelming and judicial. He lept on the raging beast, white flame blotting out the black smoke. Striking the lash from clawed hand, Santiago stabbed into the flank, shearing bone and armor, smiting again and again, until he was covered in black blood.
The blood thirster swung to strike him, the burning weapon searing the air, but it too fell to the ground, still clutched by the severed fist. Then the leg, at the knee. Toppling back, the demon fell. And as he did, Santiago took hold of a smoldering horn. Pulling himself up, he leapt upon the beast as it fell. He drove the blade through the hulking head even as the massive body met the ground, and as he did so, the throbbing in his head exploded into a psychic scream, that radiated out from them and along the ground, a tremor that tore at reality. Thick smoke and licking flames consumed the two, and all was hidden by the blaze.
Then, like a sun dispels the cloud, light pierced the fire from within and Captain Santiago stood there, upon the chest of the thing. His dark armor was now silvery and white, he whole being alight. He drew his sword from the smoldering ruin of rage incarnate, twisting it free with both contempt and finality, and stepped down.
The battle was quieter then, though weapons howled and men screamed in the distance. He was alive, his soul once again, like so many times before, alight with the radiating conviction of defiance to this blackness.
He walked then, slowly. It was much quieter now. The peace after a storm, the dawn after the dark night.

Scott's writing skills > mine. Great dude keep going! Well about 2/3 of the way through my sons of malice I got really lazy and left them sprayed white. Brandon mentioned how the look like ghosts. I then saw an oppertunity for a shortcut, ghosts could be much faster than quartered black and white, and just today I finished painting my ghost marines. Many times on the battleforce shadowy ghosts will appear, only to seem intangible or to simply dissapear when struck. Horrifically, when upclose, these figures are many times recognized by the enemy as fallen space marin commerads, shouting about how it is their fault they are dead, whispering guilt into their heads, or, even worse, many will see a future version of themselves turned chaos. These images have turned cold hard space marines into Gibbering madmen and are said to be the work of hastur (obviously). Although unknown to the enemy fighting chaos, they are simply figments of the enemy's imagination, brought to life by the king himself, not actually there. The space marine sees the figure, blocks his blows, and sometimes takes a mortal wound, but they are not real, none of it is. The space marine thinks he is fallen in battle when in reality he is physically unharmed, his mind, becomes property of the King, such is the fate of those who face his army's and are mentally ill prepared. In this way, small numbers of chaos can easily overwhelm the enemy even when outnumbered, dragging the surviving, insane victims of to fates unknown. Of course most actually die on the field due to the "real" chaos marines. In some accouts the enemy marines have even commited suicide, the guilt of fighting their undead commerads to much to bear. There, I just justified myself into about a dozen half painted marines. I just sprayed them black and drybrushed white on heavy, with red eyes. Any suggestions to make them look better are certainly welcome.

i like the idea! the only thing i could suggest for modelling is maybe using different inks to get shadowy effects of the armor, but you've probably already done that.

Bout time I fluffs them up. They were an elite squad of tac marines who worked exclusively for the inquisition, fighting mutants, wyches, and daemons. They were to purge a planet that had been infested by chaos, and were deployed along with an army of radical witch hunters. They arived late in the battle dropping out of a drop pod right in front of a land raider carved with battle scarrs and glowing runes. The doors opened like the maw of an unholy beast. Out stepped a single, robed figure. He began to walk calmy towards them and they charged. A hail of gunfirewarped around him, and the squad leader senced him to be a psyker, he attempted to bind the figure with a radical power the wych hunters had taught him. As soon as he tried he was hit by a massive psychic blast , exploding his ear drums and leaving him mumbling incoherently on the ground. The rest of the squad fearlessly charged on. As they were reaching melee range the figure slammed his staff onto the ground and created a shockwave, time was almost at a complete stop, the squad was slowly lifted into the air writhing in agony, both physically and mentally being assalted. They heard an omnipotent voice about them. "Watch how quickly your loyalties are forgotten when your inquisitor sees the gift of chaos on you. Those of you that survive will be granted His blessing. Fail this test and you are damned for an eternity to the twisting nether, slaves to the Prince's sadistic ways." With that a massive crack like lightning went off along with a blinding flash. The marines awoke in the medical clinic. A few were dead already, bodies torn apart by mutations, as the doctors frantically worked, the inquisitor himself barged in and was handed a scroll by his slave, he read "You have been found guilty of herecy, the taint of chaos runs deep in your veins and is unreversable. I hereby declare a death warrent on your entire squad, and all doctors who have worked with you." At this a squad of celestines walked in, slicing down terrified doctors, nurses, and stabbing into those marines unfortunate enough to be to ill to react quick enough. The remaining marines jumped up to their defence and found horrid mutations across their bodies. Wicked claws, spines, horns, and tentacles had grown as biological melee weapons, they all heard a distinct cackling in their heads, followed by flashes of yellow signs. Suddenly they're vision grew black and the last sounds they heard was screaming and sounds of battle. The 8 survivors woke up on a polished, stone floor and looked up to see the robed figure, standing beside another, with shining golden armour, a jewel encrusted crown, and septor in hand. The first figure spoke. "Allow me to introduce myself. You may call me Hastur, and this is the prince himself, slaanesh." Slaanesh spoke next "You have done well to come this far, you should be very proud." The marines stood silently, all unsure of what to do. Hastur spoke again "you have all been chosen, and passed the tests. One decision is left up to you. Your body is being torn apart by mutations as we speak, you haven't much time left," they all looked about themselves to see the disgusting mutations slowly moving, and growing, almost unnoticeably. "You may hurry back to your inquisition, recount what has happened and try to find a cure, or, you can join us, unlock unholy powers, and WE will cure you, we can make you immortal." The veteran of the squad knew there was no hope of going back. They had been declared heritics and apparenly slaughtered a squad of celestines. They could never return even if they wanted too. They had fought all their lives ridding the univeerse of daemons, mutants and wyched, and almost all died for the cause. Their repayment was to be claimed falsely heretics and then have half the squad killed and narrowly escape with there lives. To him the decision was clear. He looked around at his brothers who all nodded silently, as they carried a special bond, knowing what was to be said. "Hastur, youhave not only damned us for the rest of our lives to be hunted by the imperium, but got half of our brothers killed in the process. However," at this slaanesh grew a wicked grin. "You have shown us the truth of our former allies, and leave us no choice but to follow or be killed by rampant mutations...we are your's to command now."

Now the space marines have adopted the armour color of their new leader, the raptor champion freddie murcury, and have been blessed by extraordinary weaponry. They are blindingly fast in battle, but this does not come at a cost. Their bodies and still mutating from the gift, and they must constantly continue with slaanesh's demands, slaughtering thousands, to keep the mutations subdued and under controll. So yup, still need a name for them but that's there story. Dialogue would be cooler but its late and I can't sleep so I'm a bit slow at the moment.

wow thanks freaking sweet dude. i like it

Today I had a sick game with scott and marshal after our game of awesome (more come this game is a blast!) Anyway, I finally have something for my slaanesh lord, those of you who have been playing me recently have all grown to hate him. me and marshall's nickname for him is "Jesus, ezekiel, Jesus" and that's from the bible, sadly I need a much cooler and one that actually fits this foul being. Ill say one thing before I start. I personally got stomped pretty bad, scott and marshall did well (I was on marhsall's team by the way) and ill try to keep this as accurate as I can. Ima switch scott's army to just reg blood angels and not the harbringers, as marshall's and scotts army are actually pretty tight. Special thanks to Sam, for making this match intresting
As the team continued to send out distress signals, Skyrar pulled his leading psyker aside "The wolves have responded, just as our Emperor has predicted. They will assist us on the field of battle, are you sure you can keep out disguise up long enough?" The psyker had been given the task of creating a suitable disguise to cover up they're true identity from the outcast wolves the emperor sent them to attack. "I'm quite certain, however I will need total concentration, this will be no trivial task." Skyrar was suiting up for battle as he spoke "of course, that's what the noise marines are for, to protect you. We will need to stike swift and fast, these are not an enemy to be taken lightely, once we attack, retreat to the dropship and we will report our success back, I will take my squad and flank the enemy, shortly afterwards, you are to drop the viel of our disguise and attack" 5he psyker bowed his head "may the Dark one watch over you." Skyrar placed his helmet on this head and replyed "His will be done" as he walked out the back hatch. After reporting to the wolves about the relentless attacks of the blood angels, claiming them to have fallen to be chaos renegades, the wolves were eager to help destroy the traitors. The psyker had set up with a pack of longfangs, obliterators (disguised each as a regular terminator with an impressive array of weapons) and was to direct their attacks, his noise marine guard prowling the woods they took shelter in. The wolf seargent shouted, "I have a visual, looks to be a predator along with a rhino, we have scouts at the ready infiltrated in those ruins ahead. Shall we open fire. The psyker simply looked over and nodded, with that a deafening blast of lascannons, the roar of the eager skyclaws, and thundering sound of bolterfire errupted, the front rhino jackknifed in front of the predator before exploding, killing several marines in the process while the others jumped behind a rock formation nearby, a hail of return fire focused right at the obliterators unloaded from the predator, after a blinding blast nothing but a crater and burning nearby trees stood where they once were.the battle continiued on in this manner and the wolves and chaos began to get the upperhand, suddenly the roar of dropships flying stright above sounded, followed by the rumbling of a massive warmachine. Tac marines had dropped right behind the skyclaws,who immediately tuned to charge, the psyker grinned as he knew exacly where skyrar had planned coming in. He looked to the distance to see his next target and saw a flurry of flashing muzzelsl, only to see his small assault squad be mowed down by the advancing landraider. A grim look took his face, as he realized how many troops he was losing. He heard a shout folloed by rumbling and turned to see another predator behind him, the fire from the longfangs pettering off it. He turned to direct his final obliterator at it to see him opening up into a scout squad charging him, he was quickly being overwhelmed. The noise marines jumped onto the job, a storm of blasts unloaded on the scouts followed by the psyker leading them in a charge. After finishing the scouts he saw that the obliterator had suffered mortal wounds. The longfangs shouted "get your heads down, krak granades incoming!" As he saw the predator entering the woods, smashing tree's under it's tracks. The noise marines let loose on it but it was to no avail. The psyker told them to quickly take cover but but they did not listen, to full of pride, the turret turned their way and a cloud of flames engulfed them. The psyker heard through his communication system skyrar's voice "just took down a tac squad but with heavy casualties, quick, the time is now while they are distracted the the bloodangel's ship! The psyker looked out to see it decending, weapons full blaze. The longfangs were distracted by the predator and he saw his oppertunity. He dropped the disguise, and summoned his daemon mount, quickly charging at the marines, but stopped. He called upon the powers of the war and snaked out his massive ethereal whip, and yanked the squad in front of the tank's barrel, and charged. The wolves turned and recognized him immediately for what he was, alas the element of suprise was his nand he managed to take 3 before they swapped to their melee weapons. The landraider exploded off in the distance. Right at the most chaotic moment, skyrar turned his attention to the retreating skyclaw innitiates and charged, the leader saw them coming and blasted one with his plasma pistol, but the traitor wolves were far to fast and caught them. "Quickly, we must leave the field now! Our part is done and we cannot afford anymore lives! We must get out of here!" The psyker swept his forceweapon across the 2 remaining longfangs, stunning them and charged away he was soon followed by lasblasts and shouts of insults, calling his a coward and swearing revenge. Skyrar met him at the ship "quickly! We have done our part and they will soon destory each other, we must get out of here before the main wolf fleet catches us. There is no time to spectate to see the victor." And with that, they were off, to relay the news and collect their just reward from the emperor himself.

Both the wolves and blood angels fought valiently but without cause, for the angels were not traiterors. Causing exteem damage to each army and not sure exactly why, just as hastur and the dark emperor had planned it.