(artwork by Games Workshop and Fantasy Flight Games)
“The lights are wrong,” said the voice on the vox recording, his voice laced with wisps of static. “I repeat, the lights are wrong.”
The vox message then looped back on itself, as it had been doing for the past fifty-two hours. Sergeant DeSane kept it playing on his armour’s internal vox system, so that his helm’s internal sensors could keep a lock on its source, even as he backed away from the airlock door. The floors and walls of the hallway were coated in a thick rime of frost, and the doors were frozen solid, glittering with a thick patina of ice. The environmental controls of this silo had failed, it seemed, at about the same time as contact had been lost.
Hod’s Anvil: an ugly name for an equally ugly planet, Khyrus Vythorex thought to himself as he looked at the image on the ghostlight sphere at the front of his ship’s bridge. The planet on the viewer was little more than a dull brown ball practically squatting in space, its surface punctured with the grey and gunmetal flecks of forge-complexes, cities and fortress, and its oceans were a similarly faded grey in colour. Only humans could live in a place so squalid and filthy, and it did not surprise Khyrus to learn that Hod’s Anvil was home to a population numbering in the billions. There would be no shortage of captives to drag back to the Kabal, he thought wryly.
This story takes place on Hod’s Anvil, a bastion world responsible for supplying the surrounding sub sector in the absence of support from the main Imperium, and beset on all sides, by the Tau Empire, Hive Fleet Gorgon and Kraken, the corrupting influence of the Hadex Anomaly, and all other manner of foul Xenos scum…
So, recently I have started getting into Kill Team as an alternative to mainstream 40k. This is due to a number of reasons, the primary one being time: my schedule on weekdays is too tight to get a proper 40k game in, and I would much rather not carry my army case with me to and from the office on the TTC. Kill Team, on the other hand, is on so small a scale that I can easily carry a force (or two) with me in my backpack. My leanings towards Kill Team have been further reinforced by the fact that (1) my local game stores have been really getting into it lately, and (2) my girlfriend has expressed an interest in starting a Necron Kill Team.
c. Games Workshop Ltd.
Veteran Sergeant Amadeo leaned down and grabbed Tyrio by the wrist, hauling the Neophyte over the edge of the ruined hab’s second storey. Tyrio was always lagging behind his brothers, Amadeo noted, always falling to the rear in any operation or training session. For some reason, the young Astartes simply lacked the confidence his brothers found so natural, and this was an almost fatal flaw in a Space Marine. Tyrio must have been conscious of his Sergeant’s silent judgement, as Amadeo saw second-long flicker of humiliation cross the young man’s face before he hung his head and hurried over to the edge of the ruined windowsill, taking up an overwatch position on the grey ruins below. The roof to this place had long ago been torn open by Drukhari bombings, and filthy rainwater pattered down on them from the polluted sky above, spattering against Amadeo’s bare head unpleasantly.
(above image by GW, used without permission)
Last weekend, I managed to get my second game in with my Drukhari. I was going up against a Death Guard player who had said ahead of time that he would be bringing an “experimental list.” My only game against the Death Guard thus far had been with my Sisters of Battle, and it had ended horribly due to a combination of Poxwalkers, Typhus, and Mortarion. This time around, I had no idea what to expect, so I brought a list that I hoped would be able to deal with whatever Nurgle’s rotters would throw at me:
It’s been a while since I last shared any of my painting/converting updates– as usual, my very busy weekly life has kept me…well, busy. That being said, what progress that I have made has been focused on my Drukhari, particularly in updating my old colour scheme.