Team Fisto - Apologist, Bob Hunk, GrahamGilchrist & Omricon do Imperial Fists!

[Bob Hunk]

UPDATED - LOG CONTENTS

Age of the Emperor II - The Horus Heresy - September 2009

• Bob Hunk and GrahamGilchrist's finished regular scale armies (page 6-7)
• Apologist's finished true scale army (page 11)
• Lord Blood sculpts Magnus the Red (page 8-9)

Age of the Emperor III - The Siege of Terra - May 2010

• GrahamGilchrist starts to build his true scale army (page 9 onwards)
• Apologist's new Praetors of Calth WIP preview (page 11)
• Bob Hunk starts to build his true scale army (page 13 onwards)
• GrahamGilchrist starts to paint his true scale army (page 14 onwards)
• Bob Hunk starts to paint his true scale army (page 19 onwards)
• Bob Hunk and GrahamGilchrist's scratch-built Termite tunnellers (page 19)
• Bob Hunk's "Stark pattern" glowing artificer armour (page 20)
• The PCRC's "Siege of Terra" video (page 22)

Into the Maelstrom - March 2011

• Bob Hunk and GrahamGilchrist begin preparations for the next outing of Team Fisto (page 22-26)

Age of the Emperor 2011 - October 2011

• Work starts on the next installment of the Age of the Emperor campaign series (page 26 onwards)

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Greetings my fellow Warseers, and welcome to another PCRC project log.

As regular attenders of the Tempus Fugitive campaign weekends at Warhammer World, many of the PCRC will be present at the next one in September, "Age of the Emperor II, The Horus Heresy".

Also, for the first time in our long history, many of us have agreed on the same project! Apologist, GrahamGilchrist, Omicron and I will all be playing as either the Heresy-era Imperial Fists or the Imperial Army with Fist support.

We have until mid-September to each complete a 2500 points army, mostly from scratch, and of course learn how to paint yellow!

So why not subscribe and follow our trails and tribulations over the next three months as we build, greenstuff, paint and weep bitter tears as we wonder why we're doing this to ourselves again?

[Bob Hunk]

I'll let the others speak for themselves regarding their plans, but personally I'll be approaching this task with my massive stocks of metal Terminators (c.f. my Deathwing log in sig).

Here are some WIP shots to get the ball rolling.



The Primarch Rogal Dorn and his loyal Huscarl bodyguard. GS cloaks and longer hair are pending.



Constantin Valdor, Chief Custodian, and Custodes Kataphracts.



An Imperial Fists captain, also awaiting the application of GS.

[Bob Hunk]

Ok, here's my test model for the Team Fisto colour scheme. Not sure about the snow (too crystalline?) and will probably go a little easier on the Gryphonne Sepia wash next time, but generally am quite pleased with how it's turned out.







The rest of my contribution to Team Fisto is pretty much assembled now, so now I've just got to reproduce the above colour scheme 50+ times.

I'm sure the rest of the PCRC will be joining in sometime soon I'm sure.

[Dictator]

OOOO I am a big fan of all the mentioned members so I look forward to this plog. Pretty food looking yellow so far. What rules will you be using for Dorn?

[Bob Hunk]

What rules will you be using for Dorn?

The campaign pack includes rules for all the Primarchs, along with many other era-specific units. The 'Emperor' and 'Warmaster' faction packs can be downloaded here if anyone is interested, although I believe you have to sign up to the Tempus Fugitives forum to do so.

There still some 'Warmaster' faction tickets remaining if anyone feels like joining in the fun!

[Apologist]

+++Datasquirt uplink inloading+++

The sun rose in a blue sky over M'lange fields from Sumire to Al'Arakis, all heavy and ripe with the valuable herb. M'rhiann looked out over her crop with a concerned look on her normally placid face. In the distance, three columns of grey smoke had appeared out of the sky. Silently (or so it seemed to her), they descended slowly, like threads from the clouds. Their bases were black and boiling, with red glimpses appearing occasionally as something in them plummeted to the surface.

The three columns stretched down until they disappeared from her sight behind the peaks of the crystalline Zagromand mountains. Shrugging, she half-turned away, and struggled to keep hold of her pet gyrinx, which was agitatedly attempting to escape her grip.

'Whatever is the matter, Shonto, my beloved?'. Something flashed in her peripheral vision. She turned back to the mountains, and died.

+++

In less than ten minutes, the verdant plains across the temperate zones were reduced to black sludge. In three hours, the firestorms had consumed all of the major cities and settlements.

The sun set on a featureless horizon of grey ash; but by then the sky was black, and none of its light reached the earth. The dust of the verdant agriworld's crop was mingled with the remnants of the farmers, their families and their buildings – all reduced to indistinguishable strips of inert grey matter, tossed by choked firestorms.

Tallarn.

+++

Ghost-bounce from the long-sight auspex was all that returned to Camba Diaz in the cupola of his Predator. Frustrated, he turned to his native aide, hoping for some local knowledge to guide him in his search for surviving settlements beyond the ring of bunkers. The Astartes coughed softly to attract Leto's attention, surprisingly tactful for an warrior-knight of the bombastic Imperial Fists legion.

As he turned from the observation screen, the aide's face was as ashen as his homeworld, his eyes pink. The Tallarni's voice was hushed, seemingly the only appropriate tone for his murdered world.

'I have nothing for you, Master Camba. The holocaust has removed anything I recognise as home. I fear the great settlements of Men'Sha and Manzandarran are no more than words and memories now. The bombardment has flattened my mountains and filled my seas. My enemies are dust; my friends and allies too. All are equal now. Nothing besides remains.'

Diaz held Leto's haunted gaze for a moment, his piercing blue eyes locked on the Tallarn's.

+++

Nothing besides remains. The words haunted Diaz afterwards. It was true. Three weeks after the End Event, the Fists had arrived to investigate the brutal squeal and subsequent silence of the Tallarni astropathic choir. Planetstrike had revealed only turbulent bruise-coloured clouds, stirred into vengeful heat-wreathed dust-devils by innumerable tortured crosswinds. Visibility was reduced planetwide to less than a kilometre – and in the turgid polar regions, less than ten yards.

The virus bombs had wiped out all native life on the planet, down to the tiniest microbe. Nothing, without exception, survived on the surface.

The scale of the destruction was near-inconceivable. Recon elements of the Tallarn PDF, clad in bodygloves supposedly proof against atomic, biological and chemical warfare, roved the planet. There were no landmarks. No settlements. The supposedly impregnable bunker complexes had failed near-planetwide, with only a dozen located in the isolated equatorial regions remaining.

Hunkered in the remaining bunkers, the population of Tallarn could now be measured in hundreds. Fury had been overcome by disbelief, then despair. A supressed report told of a suicidal Tallarn who had opened the respirator valves on the bunker complex, allowing the life-eater virus inside and condemning him and his colleagues to instant death. A shroud had fallen over the world.

Not merely families and friends had died; but whole cultures, countries, continents. Tectonic plates had shifted; oceans turned to steam. Observation scopes looked out on a blank landscape of powdered dust and ash. Agitated by the world's death, the wind scoured the surface flat, howling walls of sand a hundred kilometres high swamping whole prefectures for days at a time.

When the winds subsided a little, the scopes saw an alien sky. Estimates marked twelve percent of the atmosphere as having burned off. Temperatures at night plummeted, and revealed a cloudless sky with maddening numbers of previously invisible stars. The previously pleasant sun had become a vengeful eye as unforgiving as a melta-beam that scoured the surface white.

+++

Gloved in plas-steel, Archamus' hands tightened on the chair of his bridge as he looked down on the world. From orbit, it was as beautiful as a jewel – bright, unchanging, dead.

In the decks below, fully two thousand Fists and twelve regiments of hardened gene-troopers stood ready to fight; their armour gleaming, osmotic gills issued and vehicles sealed as proof against the dying, mutating life-eater; even now devouring itself. Even enhanced as the sodiers were, Archamus knew this was a war that would be fought by armour; unprotected infantry could not hope to survive. The Forges of the Expedition burned bright as the Techmarines and Mechanicum struggled to convert, upgrade and salvage any vehicles within the sub-sector.

He knew as well as any that the enemy would reveal itself as soon as the virus strains broke down and became ineffective – perhaps even sooner, if the element of surprise outweighed the risk. Archamus pondered who the attackers could be – certain aggressive Xeno species might even be immune to keyed virus attack. Perhaps the Frell, or even the nebulous Jil-Tarcca. Both species had the sophistication to produce such weapons, but Archamus had never heard of such a large-scale and ambitious assault by either. It left him baffled and lost – feelings as alien to the Legion Commander as the xenos he had crushed.

Lost in thought, he turned as a messenger scurried up to him a few minutes later. Swallowing quickly and out of breath, the woman blurted in an agitated, high-pitched voice.
'Master – the enemy has revealed itself.' She was clearly terrified; her skin washed white and her eyes teary.
'Iron Warriors!'
Archamus rose from his throne, poised stock-still as though slapped. His face was unreadable. The rumours from Terra... could they be true?

It was clear the messenger had anticipated his doubt, as she held up Diaz's personal seal in a trembling hand. Archamus tightened his jaw.
'Burn out the Astropaths if you must, but penetrate those warp storms to inform the Primarch. This war will be prosecuted. It will be won. This world will not be taken from us!'

[Bane_sword]

Oooh, really nice you don't often see old rogue trader marines any more I am looking forward for some painting update.

[nagash66]

Very nice models and backround i will keep my eye on this

[Magos Errant]

Excellent background, Apologist! Really cool minis, Bob!

[doghouse]

This looks really interesting, I'll be watching this one!

[Brother_Chaplian Raimo]

As a convicted Imperial Fist, my mind exploded upon the mere reading of the title of this thread.

[Apologist]

Hopefully, you'll be able to see two Huscarl Templars (Dorn's Honour Guard) below. I'm aiming for a 'Spartan Gothique' look to these guys – so plenty of servo-skulls, banding, studs, asymmetry and all that good stuff.

Armed with relic blades and storm shields, these guys should be 'ard as nails!

(Hope the piccies work!)
Test:

[malika]

And Apologist is back. Dude...you almost had me back into the Word Bearers, but with you doing Imperial Fists I could still pick Iron Warriors if the paintscheme isn't to my liking!

[Shadow Fall]

WOOHOOO!!! Apologist is back!!! CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, WOOHOOOO!!!!

I WANT MORE ULTRAMARINES AND AM EXPECTING YOUR FISTY'S TO GO 1 FURTHER: Make them truescale *in an evil sinister voice*

ha ha, that would make all the other PCRC members imp fists look puny and inferior to the TS PH IMPERIAL FIST ASTARTES of apologist!

there you go... some encouragement for all of you

SF

[malika]

Hmm, some Imperial Fists, but mostly tanks and Imperial Army stuff I hope!

I'm noticing all sorts of vague hints to Dune in that little story Apologist! The Iron Warriors might need more Harkonnen oriented names then!

[Magos Explorator]

Nice models, Bob, and fluff, Apo. I look forward to future updates!

[gonzosbignose]

To all at Team Fisto...

Well well well... it seems that the Tempus Fugatives have once again drawn up a campaign pack and a half.

I had a look over their website last night, and i'm having major issues about whether or not i can bring myself to going along...

Its a good chunk of cash, but not only that, its a 2.5k army i'd have to paint before then...

Also I would have to be a bad guy... :-( as all the loyalist tickets have gone!

Decisions decisions...

Anyhow... i look forward to seeing how this comes along.

regards

My name is Daniel and i am a wargamer

[doghouse]

Looking good mate! Great to see you working on more truescale stuff!

[philbrad2]

Wont be attending myself in September (May's event was awesome - yay 'Da Slashaz!") Nice work always like to see the Fists in play. Should be at next May's event with my Iron Warriors though.

If these play anything like the Primarch Honour Guard they'll be hard as nails, faced Iron Hands Primarch Honour guard in May in one of the Apoc games ... phew!!!!

PhilB

[malika]

Oh boy...Apologist is back!