Blog Fhanados Paints Something!

I've been considering picking some up, but I've not decided what kind of bases to go with for the Blood Ravens yet, so holding off. Muddying up red always looks a bit odd in my opinion, as the colours are too close, so might have to mess around with it a bit before I commit to anything.

 

Hi all! I'm still lurking around here. Haven't had much to add these days, but I finished my Death Guard recently and figured I'd share it with you friendly folks! Meet the Iron Plague, ex-Iron Warriors who have thrown their lot in with the Death Guard for the sake of their own survival. They're bitter, petty and cruel - constantly searching for some way to take revenge but burdened by their own inadequacy as a fighting force. Their quest for vengeance is a balancing act, often having to pledge allegiance to larger forces just to survive but then having those same allies toss them into the meatgrinder as disposable fodder.

A Plague upon Iron
In the aftermath of the war of Rust and Ruin on Dysactis Perturabo ordered a great cull. Those of his Legion shunned mutation and the weakness of flesh, and losing to Mortarion's Death Guard and their toxic warfare was a particularly bitter failure. So it was that the command came down - execute any members the Iron Warriors who succumbed to their biological frailty, those who had become mutated or diseased by the foetid blessings bestowed upon them by the plagues of the Death Guard.

Kill-teams rounded up the plague victims and any Legionnaire exhibiting symptoms of mutation and put them to death, purging the remains with fire and plasma. Some accepted their fate, acknowledging that failure in their Primarch's eyes warranted no lesser punishment than death. Others were too weak, crippled by disease or devolved into gibbering horrors.

Not all were willing to await their doom, and not all were willing to forgive their gene-sire for his treachery. Of those, a new warband arose - Iron Warriors by blood, Death Guard by patronage. Hated by Perturabo and mistrusted by Mortarion, the Iron Plague has turned its fury upon the Imperium. Not to prove their worth or supplicate the Primarchs, but to show they are unbeaten by the cruelty and spite they have endured.


Kalharr's Ascension
Kalharr the Indestructible rather impressively earned his moniker during Perturabo's purge. For near a century Kalharr lead one of the many Terminator squads of the Iron Warriors legion as their Champion, specialising brutal close quarters combat. Leading up to the conflict on Dysactis his unit had drawn the gaze of many prominent Warsmiths and a future of glorious battle among the Legions greatest Lords was almost assured.

During the War of Rust and Ruin his squadron was deployed to counter the Death Guard's grinding infantry assault on an Iron Warriors position. Prolonged fighting against their diseased foes took it's toll and he began to sicken. Once the fields were littered with the dead and the immediate threat of the Death Guard had passed, his fellows saw him succumbing to plague and took the opportunity to act on their own ambitions and slay him. Unwilling to be bested by lesser warriors, Kalharr turned on his unit and killed them one by one. With each kill his armour became more ruined, his munitions depleted and his weapon broken.

When he was found by a Death Guard scavenging party he was unarmed, on the verge of death and surrounded by dead Terminators - still grasping the corpse of the last by it's ruined skull in his iron grip. Rather than finish him off and harvest the geneseed, the Plague Surgeons repaired his body and staved off death. He was granted command of the Iron Plague and carries the Plaguereaper axe of a Lord of Contagion as a mark of his new rank.


Raze the Colours!
Few of the Iron Plague have embraced the practices of the Death Guard as much as Mordebus, former banner bearer of the Iron Warriors 73rd Great Company. After succumbing to hideous mutations he survived his Legion's cull through pure luck, and by chance came upon Kalharr and the Iron Plague at the very moment the Terminator was granted his Plaguereaper. Mordebus took this as a divine sign, a message from the Dark God of Plagues, and immediately pledged his allegiance to Nurgle and the Iron Plague. Gone is the sullen standard bearer of the old Legion, in his place is a Space Marine that gleefully sets about his works. He now drapes himself in the Company banner of his former masters and revels in it's desecration. Every bullet, blade or flame that leaves its mark on the tattered pennant gives him great joy, joy that he shares through the constant droning toll of the accused bell.

 

Sorcerer's Plight
Many of the Iron Plague were ambivalent about their sudden induction into the ranks of Nurgle's champions. Not so for the former Sorcerer Galmort. For as long as he had been a part of the Iron Warriors his role had been a distant second in value compared to the Warpsmiths and dark tech adepts of the Legion. His existence was burdensome, saddled with restrictions on his power and shadowed by handlers eager to end the miserable Psyker's existence for daring to challenge the potency of their technologies. As a channeller of the Warp he was at constant risk of mutation - even minor afflictions harshly punished and painfully purged from his flesh.

One of the many warp-touched to suffer mutation during the war of Rust and Ruin, Galmort fled the persecution of his Legion and knelt to the Death Guard even before the formation of the Iron Plague. Now he revels in the freedom, released from the shackles placed upon him by the Legion. Galmort fully embraces the foul powers of the Plaguefather and is all to eager to unleash them upon his former keepers and would-be executioners.


A Gift and A Curse
Not all of those who became the Iron Plague were willing. For one nameless Captain there was no choice. He had no intention of joining but when faced with the prospect of either Perturabo's cull or Mortarion's scythe should he refuse, he reluctantly joined the warband of former Iron Warriors. Unlike most Plague Marines his mutations have rendered him weaker than his brethren and unable to speak.

In his wisdom, Nurgle has granted him a gift - a single daemon fly that is forever near. The fly speaks for him, reading his thoughts and gurgling them forth in the dark tongue yet refuses to speak his name. It has a tenancy to interlace dialogue with outrageous praise for his deity, which infuriates the Iron Warrior who holds firm to his Legion's belief that the Dark Gods are not divine beings to be worshiped, but psychic entities to be used as weapons in the Long War.

As a final torment the Iron Plague warband sends him as a herald of their coming, beginning cults in the hidden backwaters of populated worlds and negotiating with other warbands and Legions. Thus this lone Space Marine has earned his moniker - The Silent Emissary.


Warden of the Wayward
After the Iron Warriors were defeated on Dysactis a small group that had turned against their Primarch petitioned Mortarion for aide. Although suspicious, the Death Lord accepted their plea and brought them into the fold as the Iron Plague. They were not given the same freedoms afforded true Death Guard however, and are constantly under the watchful gaze of Festerpulax, a Lord of Contagion who guides the warband to act in Mortarion's interests.

Festerpulax has donned the warband's colours, but maintains a rotten green cape as reminder that he alone is a true Death Guard, and his loyalty lies with his Primarch. While the Iron Plague has the autonomy to lead itself and execute it's own campaigns, should its actions contradict the Death Guard's endeavours then the Lord of Contagion will intervene.

Occasionally, though rare, orders will be issued from the Death Guard commanders themselves. The Iron Plague resents such things, but those who disobey do not live long enough to act on their rebellious urges.

 

Incursion and Infestation
Traditionally the Iron Warriors avoid Daemonic pacts with the Dark Gods, preferring to enslave the denizens of the warp to unholy machinery instead. The Iron Plague warband has no such qualms about daemon-summoning and are all too eager to boost their meagre forces with the immortal footsoldiers of Nurgle. This also serves a second, more sinister purpose - to kick start the plagues that weaken their foes, crippling defenses, contaminating supplies and bringing the defenders to their knees long before a single bolt is fired.


These warp-infused plagues spread by insidious cults of Nurgle and Daemonic saboteurs are a key strategy in any of the Plaguefather's offensives. Spreading like wildfire through civilian populations the wretched epidemics torment the planet's inhabitants with death and disease, but most horrifying are the rampant mutations. Degenerate mutants arise in their thousands, if not millions, to serve the God of Plagues - and in doing so weaken the defenders leaving the world ripe for invasion. Following a successful raid, the Iron Plague will often fill bulk landers to capacity to export these half-living horrors for future invasions. With the state of the universe as it stands now, there is no shortage of demand.


Torment in Twisted Iron
The Iron Plague make heavy use of Helbrutes as an armoured spearhead for their siege actions upon Imperial fortifications. These mass produced engines of destruction are largely disposable, rarely surviving more than a handful of engagements. It matters not, for those unfortunates incarcerated in the sarcophagi of these abominable machines are not great heroes or leaders bearing ancient knowledge and the wisdom of ages, but captured Loyalist Astartes, rival traitors or even those of the Iron Plague who dared turn upon their masters.

Unlike the Dreadnoughts of the Space Marines Helbrutes are a foul blend of simple mechanical components, vat grown flesh and hastily crafted circuitry and are prone to daemonic infestation and spontaneous mutation. The Mind Impulse Units used by the Imperium are largely lost to the forces of Chaos, replaced by easily manufactured neural links that are installed through painful and invasive surgeries. To be a Helbrute pilot is a torment, one that is thankfully short lived for most.

 

Iron Plaque, that is some great lore you have written!

And well painted too

Of course this one is my favorite