The Coming of the Iron Hide

Today the Canis Aureus faced Ron and his Vostroyan Guard. The first game he drew no useful objectives and rolled pretty badly and the second did not fall to his favour either. The jackals held their territory and Cleaver the Choppa managed to fell a Russ in both games.

The Coming of the Iron Hide

A spinning vortex of a sickly yellow haze clouded the sky at least two-hundred kilometres in diameter. It held its position unerringly above the battle front. It's power and force so great it had held the Aureus forces on the T'au planet and subjected them to a foul barrage of their own creation. The jackal's forces were held on the ground, a large percentage had taken casualties from the plague storms. Those that had not been swept away or mired, began to pull back to their lines, making the headway they could in the dreadful conditions. many units, most of them astartes and light infantry, were cut off by the plague hordes generated by the widespread miasma of the Plague Lord.

No one, not even Cutter the Choppa could make progress through the maelstrom. While the rest of the Aureus forces were claiming land in the name of the Wolf Mother, the forces of fury and blood were stuck and unable to further the cause. It wasn't until they saw the first of the Vostroyan regiments appeared passing through the thick storm clouds, that the demented Chaos Lord was happy he had been trapped.  

Filled with titanic fury, almost pure and undiluted with thought or other emotions, he mounted his nearby rhino and became locked in combat. After chopping down two of his own renegades in blind rage he punctured the Leman Russ's hide as it came through the dense miasma.  Fuel tanks exploding it threw off the renegades, tearing the pack of Jackals to shreds. Witnessing the Vostroyan's fall back he gritted his teeth and bellowed insults into the wind, before calling on more renegades to enter the fray.

* * * * *

With bitter resentment, Quadir pulled the Endless Cacophany back from the edges of the ruin and into the nearby rhino.  he could tell from this position they would be outgunned on the Vostoyan's return. A quick vox exchange led them to the East flank where they deployed as their transport was hit by the advancing Vostroyan gun line.  

Fell picked up on the faint sound of the Commissar's shouting amongst the bombardment. Honing in on it he directed the rest of his squad to open fire. The howls that erupted tore through the structure and through the mortals behind it. Flesh was parted from bone and their screams suppressed by the audial bombardment. As the Commissar advanced to the edge of the building the Cacophony hit him with a vicious blast as two of the astartes fell to the Vostran's deadly aim. Steadying himself on his feet the Commissar fount his footing as Quadir impacted with the officer, tearing his head from his shoulders with one solid punch.

Explosions crackled through the plague infested ruins in the direction of the plaguebearers advance. The Noise Jackal watched in disgust as they shambled into the scout walkers, preventing them from being a threat.  Just behind the fray he could also make out the form of Cleaver holding a leg into the air and whooping with glee as the Vostroyan's retreated. They had held the territory against the forces of the Imperium, but to what end? There was no merit in them holing this fetid landscape, all was dead, all was lost, their job had been done. 

Quadir longed to be under the command of Salazar once more instead of the brutish oaf that was Cleaver.  Turning the amp up on his weapon he faced the advancing, mindless plague horde. 

"Where the hell are the Deathguard? Isn't it their job to control this mindless scum?" He yelled blasting the flesh from the amassing assailants before him.

The Landraider with the Power of a Titan

Still on a creative high from our trip to Warhammer World, myself and Jack decided to have a hobby day today. My first project was to fit a Warhound Titan's gun into a landraider. Originally, Jack said he would give me the gun if I could fit it into a russ but the gun was just too big!  

After a fair bit of sawing and some careful snipping, I managed to secure the gun into the main hull. Due to the lack of stability at first I green stuffed it and put in a fair amount of super-glue. Once it had been held firm I coated the top of the raider and all the green stuff with half a sprue of skulls.  

As you can see in the first picture above, I was also inspired by one of the landraiders in the main display at Warhammer World. Instead of its standard heavy bolters they had replaced them with forgefiend plasma cannons. As this is a proxy for the Cerberus heavy tank destroyer I thought it only fitting that it had two animalistic type heads along with the main gun.

Overall I feel it is getting there, but it still needs a lot of work.

Myself and Jack also both bought the Arch Daemon of Nurgle from Forgeworld, therefore I thought I should make mine look a little different. Instead of three horns mine now has five.

After our day of being creative, we set up Jack's freshly delivered scenery and took to the table. Wolves vs Deathguard. I won, almost tabling by the end of turn three so we called the game there.

The Landraider with the Power of a Titan

It was in the Pax'nera's interests to support Jostien. He was the only ally of great sway that the t'au forces had outside of their own race. It was clear that the Aureus were becoming as feared as the absent Black Legion. A force that could unite the sprawling bands of chaos and command them was not to be ignored. 

After many months of work it had been completed. The shell of a landraider, with the raw power of a supremacy suit's generator and the weapon of a titan were forced onto the thrashing daemon entity.  Contained within it's Ion prison the beast fused with the energy of the generator and, when provoked, created the energy needed to harness the re-purposed, titan-class weaponry.   Witnessing the devastation of the pre-battle testing procedure, Steadstrike was certain of his choice despite some of the others protests. He knew one day the might of this weapon would be turned against them, but he hoped by then they would be prepared. Signalling his crew to leave he bid farewell to Jostien.

Still in the process of regrowing his organs, Jostien was hunched. His tubes and servitors were feeding him with everything his vast form needed to be fighting fit again within the next few days.

"I thank you for your efforts Steadstrike, you have aided us well," said Jostien to the bronze clad giant leaving the disembarkation deck. "We will deal a blow to the Deathguard that they will not recover from."

* * * * *

Landing on the planets surface did not go to plan. Kai had drifted off target and had become wedged into the nearby dilapidated tower block. The battle had already begun and he had cursed himself for missing the start of it. Licking his bloated, daemonic lips he fired his ectoplasmic barrage into the Great Unclean One in front of him, popping the already damaged greater daemon like an overripe fruit. 

"Good work Kai," spoke Jostein from his position to the Ancient's right. The Captain was propped up against the wall of the ruin, his body fairly useless after the tyranid onslaught that he had narrowly escaped only a few days before. Signalling the two deredeos in the building he filled them with calm, making each of their barrages more deadly than the last. 

The blasts from the experimental tanks shook the battlefield, wrecking the Deathguard's Typhon heavy siege tank in two shots.

Within mere minutes the battle had been won. Those of the enemy still alive were put to death, while the daemons were banished back to the warp.

Jostein knew this attack would enrage members of his Chapter but he cared not. He would bring his Chapter's name back to the records of history, not through vengeance and terror but hope in the darkest of times. For the greater good.

A Grand Victory in Tournament 2

Four armies gathered for the fight over one mighty planet full of rich resources valuable to all. The Aureus were keen to claim the planet for themselves. Two of these armies were forces of the Deathguard, one Eldar and the other the Canis Aureus. 

The tournament was three games per army, the warlord with the most victory points winning the tournament. Each force had to be battleforged and 750 points or under. 

Canis Aureus
x1 Chaos Lord (Choppa) with combi-bolter and poweraxe
x5 Chaos Marines
x9 Khorne Berserkers (Sgt with power fist)
x1 Rhino with x2 combi-bolters
x1 Deredeo Dreadnought, Butcher cannon array, a greater havoc launcher and two heavy bolters.

The Aureus were victorious and won all three games. The first was against the Deathguard and was also the closest game. Coming down to one final save on my deredeo with one hit point remaining. 

The second game was against David's Eldar. It was a brutal first two turns which made for a decisive victory, the deredeo removing ten models in his first round of shooting. After this battle came the final fight against the other Deathguard army that was tabled by the end of turn four. 

In claiming the planet the Canis Aureus have once again proven their might and I won some goodies as a result of that.

Lord of Khorne: Cutter the Choppa'

After my victory with a proxy Chaos Lord (As I forgot my actual Lord) I decided to make a Lord of Khorne.

I took a primaris body and two ork arms as well as a few chaos bits and made Cutter the Choppa into an actual model. Suitably huge when compared to a standard old marine.

But what is a Khorne Lord without skulls? I hear you say. Well I thought similar, so I decided to give him twenty skulls on his person and seven on his base. The base is a 40mm base which is too big but I think he justifies it.

The same day I painted him and then he was ready for battle.

Last week the might of Cutter the Choppa, clashed with Jamie's Pax'nera T'au Sept.  It was a brutal and brief game. I claimed first turn. Charged from the rhino and ate into the t'au gun line. The retaliation was bloody but it didn't stop my Lord cleaving through the blue-skinned bodies until he claimed victory.

A Servant's Wrath

Removing his helmet their Lord revealed his scarred and pitted visage. Twisted leathery flesh, fused with bone and metal. Like his other warriors, he bore the fresh wounds of self mutilation. Blood poured from his large gnarled hands and wrists into the numerous orifices in his face. His dark eyes stared with glee out into the battlefield before them. Beyond the haze of gore he could see the Pax’nera landing in the ruins opposite starting their advance. Cutter the Choppa clambered into his rhino and called his berserkers forward. Klash began to shiver and chatter as Mauler howled with anticipation. All at once they began the berserkgang. First waves of cold hit them, their joints seizing as they uncontrollably shivered. Moans and roars erupted as their flesh bulged in deep reds and purples. Fever soon bled into rage, chainswords revved into action as the rhino’s hatch was released. Crashing into the t’au battle line the renegade berserkers took the first volley of fire. Bodies riddled with mortal injury they continued to fight on. Amongst his dying warriors Cleaver entered the fray. His huge axe in hand he cut three t’au in half with one blow narrowly missing a fourth. He cared not for his brothers. As six fell down dead the remaining two turned to run. In one swift motion the Chaos Lord cleaved down his own as they attempted to flee, the mighty choppa severing armour, flesh and bone. He was not surprised their fate had been foretold. A precognition had been implanted into his head by På Veg prior to their landing. The mighty greater daemons eyes penetrating his corrupted soul and had foretold his success. Med Leen’s visions had been more grave. They had prophesied his warriors foul fate and the blind rage as he cleaved them down. He knew he would turn from this battle, let the enemy flee, wipe out the tiny horrors in anger at their masters predictions. Recalling the malevolent jeering made his rage boil over. Turning from the enemy he directed his rage towards the warp spawn. Cleaver the Choppa was no ones puppet!

The horror propelled itself onward sullen, chortling and whining. Tears of rage filled its diminutive contorted face. Surrounding him were the six remaining little daemons, laughing and cackling as they simmered and popped. They all knew that they would soon return to their master. Two of the horrors would flee, hide and burn up to nothing, while their blue leader and four other critters would be decimated by the mighty ork weapon. Clambering around the last remaining drones they managed to secure themselves on one and pull it to the ground. Weeping and stamping in a volatile rage, the radiant blue leader slammed his ever-changing form into the dirty below. Unable to focus on their victory he was sealed by the misery of his fate. Turning around he saw the large bulky figure approaching them. “Tell your Lord to get outa my ‘ed!” Yelled Cleaver as he brought down the Choppa, dissipating the horrors into nothing but fire and crackling energy. The Pax’nera had fallen back, the great ones claimed what they wanted and now more of the planet was theirs. Before he had a chance to rejoice, the crackling static and flames seized the Chaos Lord. Sparking and convulsing, his muscles expanded and were filled with a new vigour, a new vigour that would allow him to claim and defend the eldar moon.

Firefights over the Charadon Sector- Fiction

This weekend we had a campaign day down the hut. Nine of us gathered together and formed up to fight plenty of battles. My forces fought alongside the Deathguard against the Nai'Tzeleth Eldar forces and also faced off against the 1st Larissa Watch.  The battles were all at 500pts short but intense.

Firefights over the Charadon Sector

They were late to rendezvous with the allied forces. The warp was playing tricks with them as always, seeking to continually challenge and test their limits. Their anger made them stronger, it made more of them turn from the pull of defeat. They had been bound to fight the Mechanicus and instead ended up with their decaying brothers, fighting the forces of the Eldar. The Deathguard and their Lord were already there, already fighting, already claiming souls in the name of the Plague Lord. The sight of the battle filled their fetid bodies with excitement and anticipation. All at once they took in their surroundings and made their advance towards the xenos forces.

Crazed and tainted by the Jackals' entry, the Fire Dragons belched forth fire in all directions, screaming out in tongues setting fire to friend and foe alike. Quick to silence the tainted the Nai'Tzeleth forces tore down their own in a volley of gunfire, as the Deathguard trudged through the vibrant landscape. The ancient and keen eyed Eldar had no trouble following the path of decay that erupted beneath the Deathguard's tread, the green landscape withering at their feet. 

A stream of razor-sharp projectiles hit the advancing corrupted astartes. Spumes of filth bursting from the marine's ancient and bloated torsos. For a moment they were silent and still, the only sensation a slight vibration as one of the Jackals slumped to the ground. The Pestsjaler let their conscious thoughts drip from their minds, like a tallow of wax from ten-thousand candles in the Wolf Mother's Shrine. They could feel the beating of their bloated and festering primary hearts and the hum of insects from within. Outside the Pestsjaler's enhanced hearing detected the xenos threat readying themselves behind the rocks in the centre of the battlefield.  Without trepidation the plague marines broke their meditative state and bounded around the outcrop of rocks. The eldar within their sight, they opened fire. Well worn weaponry, encrusted in filth and dirt spat hellfire upon the fragile enemy, limbs exploded and torsos were burst asunder. Overhead the plagueburst crawler's fire detonated into the other xenos units forcing them to fall back.  Too slow to give chase, the Deathguard called to halt the advanced. 

Quick to claim their prize the Pestsjaler continued their advance collecting the spirit stones of the fallen for the Wolf Mother's plan. 


Across the Charadon Sector Cleaver sought to make a name for himself in the eyes of the Aureus renegades. He had been outcast even by his own kin, subject to the cure of the Wolves of Russ. It was an imbalance, some speculated a lack of willpower and strength to resist the makings of a true Astartes. With the Deathwatch in sight, Cleaver had led the renegades up through the Deathwatch's main line. Veteran marines guarding a supply drop of great worth.  Their commander stood outside of the cover to meet him and the Deathguard head on. 

"You are nothing but a monster in the skin of a warrior!" Goaded Gregarious Captain of the 1st Larissa watch.

The Aureus Champion lunged and cut only air, as a bolter round punctured his side. The detonation sent shrapnel and meat flying out of him in all directions. The air around him undulated and the realisation that the ground itself had begun to bleed pierced the pain that filled his mind. It ran in thick, crimson rivulets, streaking the chrome plasteel and pooling underfoot. Reality itself began to blink in and out, the faces of snarling slender faced monsters greeting him from a realm not his own. The sight of these xenos females awoke something primal within the wounded wulfen.  He shuddered as he landed two solid blows at the enemy Captain who effortlessly parried his hefty assault. Agony spiked through his body, blades in his skull, daggers in the back of his eyes. There was a crunch as he felt his biceps expand and the muscles and bone twist and crack. Blood poured into his mouth, choking his throat. Sweat broke out across his body as his secondary heart kicked in. 

With a deep, guttural snarl the feral warrior swung axe and claw at his target. Gregarious moved at a speed that his armour belied, dodging and deflecting every attack. Allowing the superior combatant to disengage, Cleaver raised his combi-bolter and spat at the Captain.

"Honour be damned," he roared as he pulled the trigger.

The shots tore through the Deathwatch veterans chest and leg. Falling to the ground he was wracked with rage that his opponent would fall to such underhanded tactics. 

"I should have expected such underhanded tactics from such Chaos scum, wolf. If we can have our supply drop then no one can."

Falling back to his razorback the Captain pulled out, setting off the demolition charges within the building. 

Unable to move Cleaver began to convulse and his skin and armour split, spraying everything with an oily mist of blood. The flesh beneath was discoloured, the pale flesh that came forth was coated in deep scarring that glittered with an oily sheen of blood and sweat. His skeleton snapped as it reformed, the bones in his arms elongating far beyond that of a normal man. Biceps and shoulders burst out from within his original skin, lumps of old muscle and flesh falling off onto the ground in wet, slick motions. From out of the gore and remains emerged a far taller beast than before. The Deathguard had left him some time ago and now he could see the advancing ork forces making their approach. 

"Oi oi gits, look at all dis loot!" said one eagerly as he approached.

"Datz mine zog off. Gork knowz datz mine," spoke another as he belted the first over the head with a large chain.

"I aint letting you 'av anyfink," interrupted another.

"Oi, look dat one still lives!" perked up a fourth

"He's big and naked. We can take him boyz!" Jostled in one eagerly from the back of the pack, waving his big choppa in the air.

Clenching his newly formed fists, Cleaver was keen to find a new and more appropriate weapon to test his new form. Once the greenskin tide had reached him, Cleaver savaged their flesh left and right, his new skin covered in the stink of ork musk and ichor. Dragging the big choppa from the eager ork he slammed the makeshift axe around into the sea of bodies in a blinding arc. The orks burst apart in a fountain of gore. From out of the shower came a face absent of any sane thought and filled with rage. With one swift blow the Chosen was knocked backwards, the choppa falling from his grasp. 

Before Cleaver could right himself a large hand pulled him upright. 

"You did good there. We 'av bigger fings to sort. More loot to grab," said the ork nob pointing to a vague location in the distance.

"I don't want your pity greenskin. Fight me!" Yelled the hulking chaos warrior.

"Keep da choppa he don't need it," said the greenskin gesticulating to the decapitated ork on the floor. "You are git now, wiv big hand and big choppa."

"I'm Cleaver and let you remember that name,"

"Cleaver the Choppa," the Nob said with a bow before leaving with his remaining warriors.

Before he could argue at his new title, Cleaver felt a hand on him again. Through its palm came power and energy. The air around him thick with the smell of burning coals and rancid meat. Turning he saw five xenos women each carrying armour, all from different sources, each one ancient and impressive in it's own right. Behind them leered a gigantic being, a daemon of countless age and experience.

"You did a great job with them shiny tin men boy. Keep it up and you will be rewarded handsomely by the Huntress. If you can stop the Gregory and his Larceny Watch then you will be given great rewards. No one likes thieves especially the ones of mankind." Rasped the daemon in hushed tones, mere centimetres from the Chosen's face.

"I will do as you command my Lord. I am glad I have been deemed worthy of such praise," replied Cleaver as he was adorned and fitted into his new armour by the scantily clad elven warriors, each timeless and blood-soaked.

"Cleaver the Choppa, don't make me regret my decision. Give me blood. Shed it wide and far, let the name Rognavaldr be heard."

As the greater daemon departed, Cleaver tried to decide whether the had been gifted or cursed. Either way he decided he didn't care, bloodshed was all that mattered and he knew some renegades that would be more than happy to help out.