Monday, March 26, 2018

Year of War: Kill Team Gascoigne

My March offering for our local 'Year of War' painting competition.

Kill Team Gascoigne has a special role on the battlefield as the Bulwark for their comrades. In the Watch Fortress they are the custodians of the inner sanctum- in the field they perform the same role for their spirited Watch Master whenever possible.

Kill Team Gascoigne, a 'Bulwark' Squad. 

His shield reads 'Only in Light can Humanity Thrive.'

Brother Sergeant Gascoigne, member of my homebrew Lightbringer
Chapter. 

Real Deathwatch wear capes.~

Brother Adrios the Novamarine on the left, and Brother Hanno the
Angel of Woe (homebrew) on the right. 

Alternate view of Brother Hanno.

On the right with have the Black Consul, Brother Ciro...

And on the left and Angel Redeemed, Brother Valac. =


Next month- Heavy Support or Troop! Maybe we'll see an allied Predator!

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Gravespark : A System Agnostic Setting

What is Gravespark?

Placed untold centuries after some huge calamity, it would be easy to imagine a bleak and merciless wasteland where there is nought but ruins and bones... but there is so much more. Oh, there are ruins and bones aplenty, but the setting is at its core about hope. About rebirth, as something unknown is causing life to once again spring up even in the most inhospitable of locales. Players can unravel the mysteries of the past, blaze a new course for revival, or perhaps just carve out their own little spot of safety and comfort in this shadowy world. It is my hope for both DM's and Players to have an active role in shaping and building the very world and societies of their stirring surroundings, as befitting a setting designed around rebirth and restoration!

The titular Gravespark. These mysterious chunks of glittering crystal contain the very force of life itself, something long missing from the world at large and are critical to the rebirth of this world. A single shard is enough to bring even the oldest of the withered undead back, infusing them with the vital essence that their animate bodies have been lacking for so long. It also appears that the Gravesparks do not spring from nothingness, as each creature gains some fragment of a long lost soul. Each has some memory, or preference, or quirk as if preserved perfectly in amber until once again finding a suitable vessel to fill. In a very real way Gravesparks are like echoes from the path, gifted to bring life to a long barren world.

What is the world like?

By all accounts, Renastere is a dusky world. Night and day are concepts long lost to the mists of time, the sky always lit by the scant illumination provided by a blistering white ring surrounding a disk as black as the void itself. This perpetual eclipse has kept the world in unceasing twilight for as long as any can remember, and the brightest stars are always visible in the dark blue sky.



The land itself is, at a glance, a wretched place. When the catastrophe occured centuries ago the Oceans rose up, bubbling from the depths to cover most of the world's landmass. Only recently have the waters begun to recede, leaving vast salt flats and murky swamps for miles in every direction. Those realms not completely swallowed by water are often barren chunks of rock, assaulted by heavy winds and pelted with ice cold rain with only the odd ruin offering any real shelter. Bones and broken weapons litter much of the world, a testament to the horrific conflict that once brought Renastere to a painful end.

It is only when one looks closer that you can see beyond the apparent wasteland. With the receding Oceans and lighting of the first Gravesparks life is starting once again to not only scrape by, but flourish. The swamps, while treacherous, are positively teeming with new creatures never before seen. Exotic and brilliantly bio-luminescent plants and flowers are blooming, and new groves of trees are once again sprouting out of the soil. Great beetle-like creatures stride the salt wastes, feeding on the Ocean's leavings and in turn are hunted by spindly lizardbeasts with glittering white scales. New ruins, some almost preserved by time dot every known inch of the world, each one full of secrets and forgotten knowledge.

It is a dangerous world, an austere world- but there is beauty to be found. Life once more.

Who lives in this world?

The dominant species by far, if one could call them that, are the poor bodies known simply as 'The Remnant'. Hundreds of thousands or more walking corpses who do not rot, who do not decay- emaciated husks they may be. They come in all shapes and sizes, and it is widely believed that they are all thats left of the people who populated the world. Tall and willowy, short and strong, slender, twisted, hulking- every bodytype and feature imaginable, all reduced to the same fate. They are not sentient, barely animals in their intelligence most of the time. Some are hostile, some harmless and if killed they will often rise again in weeks or months to consider their aimless trek across the landscape.

However there is a key to some level of salvation. The Gravespark, consisting of raw vitae, can be possessed and infused by one of these Remnant's. Once inside, the spark animates the mind and revitalizes the body! In many ways the individual is 'reborn', though with only the faintest shreds of memory to call upon. Relearning how to be alive is difficult, but most find their way to others who hold a spark- prompting the growth of impromptu communities in every nook and cranny of the known world! What's more, one spark is good, but with each additional shard a Remnant absorbs they grow stronger- they become more alive. Their flesh fills in, their hearts beat all the stronger as they become flush with this new energy. Conversely if they are to be struck down they often lose one of their precious shards of life, perhaps even reverting to the beasts they were before.

Other than the Remnants, other life does exist. Strange fishlike beings crawl out of the waters along the Oceans edge to infest the swamps and coastlines, long forgotten chambers beneath ruins teem with mutated primatives of startling variety, and strange creatures of animated stone populate many caverns. More creatures could inhabit any number of unexplored locales, and there are even rumors and myths of sealed cities beneath the Earth that hold living survivors of the Catastrophe. Only time will be able to tell for certain!

Who are the players?

The players are, more than likely, one of the recently Enlightened Remnant who through luck or design have found their own spark to call their own. Through a few tables I hope to provide they will role to see what sort of echo they have inherited and which of several broad subraces of Remnant they fall into. From there, they will adventure to grow beyond the simple hollow existance of most of their race. They'll search for more Gravespark's to absorb, for secrets to uncover, for artifacts to master or- just perhaps, the secrets to craft their new world in a new image.

Their image.

What's Coming?

I hope overtime to flesh out the setting. Describe what Remnant culture might be like, give some fun locales and fun treasure for a unique little experiance. We often see a world going to hell in literature- but rarely do I find a little hope in the bleakness, and I would like to explore that further! If you have any ideas, comments, or criticisms please let me know!

Monday, March 5, 2018

Year of War 40k: Apocalypse Part 2

To be a Hunter in the service of the Ordo Xenos was to know freedom. Oh, certainly you were a weapon, just waiting to be pointed in the right direction, but there was a certain peace to be found in knowing your place in life in such simple terms. Go here, slaughter everything that opposes the Emperor, sometimes collect the shiny alien tech that some lofty Inquisitor coveted- and that was it!

Alexsandr perched on the tower and looked down on his prey. Five marines, armor utterly corrupted and defiled, fired at some target in the distance. The Hunter neither knew nor cared if the explosive bolts hit their mark, he was far more focused upon the barking laughter that bubbled up from warped respirators- at the good humor they were in from the target rich environment seething outside of their walls. Well, fair was fair. Sometimes the Hunter becomes the Hunted- something the closest marine learned as the powered links of a chain-spear suddenly wrapped around his throat.

In a moment, the assassin was on them in a blur of carefully choreographed violence....

Alexsandr jumps into combat, turning the ramparts red.
He clears a swathe, but the heavy flamers on the defiler turn out
to be a good counter to his dodge rolls, taking some wounds from him.


Kill Team Corwyn takes the gatehouse on the Fortresses far flank. 

Watchmaster Pyrannius and Kill Team Arden take a tower, firing
at the heretics on all sides. 

Kill Team Hestios cuts down dozens of cultists even as the
Corvus is shot down by ludicrous amounts of Orcish fire.

The Orks, taking the walls of the fortress as a challenge, blow up one
of the wall sections just to prove that they could- despite the fact that
they were nominally working with the Chaos forces.

The Kill Wagon attempts to charge the Shadowsword to eat its
overwatch for the Meganobz, and ends up taking a direct hit from
the volcanon cannon, incinerating it and most of its occupants.

On the other side you can see that the Orks and guard have practically wiped
each other out, leaving the entire flank fairly open besides from a lone Culexes
on the wall.

The weight in pewter of the Vostroyen dead can barely be imagined.

Walls on the flank practically secured, the Deathwatch find themselves
the target of the brunt of most of the Chaos reinforcements.

Sadly the Meganobz finally get their charge...

... and deal an amazing amount of wounds, slaying the proud war machine
in one round of combat before it even has the chance to swing back.

Luckily the MegaNobz were too overzealous and the Shadowsword
exploded in a fury, killing several Nobz, a Big Mek, and crippling several
other characters (as well as wiping out a Vostroyen Platoon command and
its commissar hiding behind the observatory. 

Armored reinforcements roll on, and begin immediately battering the
walls with long range fire, a punisher sweeping the walls in range.

Two units of lady Rough Riders with melta guns rumble onto the
board, almost managing to take down a wall between their fire
and a charge even while taking withering bolter fire. 

Two Chimeras, one filled with crusaders and a priest the other with
several special weapon toting command squads race for the gap
to reinforce the Deathwatch. 

Captain Raoul Giantkiller arrives, calling in Kill Team Gascoigne with
the Angelis Beacon to likewise bring the fight to Chaos. 

Alexsandr is confronted with a Boss, and promptly turns around to deal with
scouts in the tower instead. Prudence!

The center Gatehouse shakes with the armored might of the Imperial
War Machines, but its invulnerable save and 20 wounds keeps it standing
even as lascannons and krak missiles stream out towards the attackers.

The Deathwatch holding the walls are whittled down from the absolute torrents
of enemy fire even as Pyrannius struggles to deal with a Chaos Warlord on the walls.

Captain Raoul kills two of the scouts, but falls prey to an enemy stratagem
that deals three mortal wounds and kills him outright. 

The Daemon Prince, not to be denied his prey, chases the Culexes
into the tower, bringing him down to exactly one wound just before the end.
Pyrannius sucked in air as the Chaos Lord before him punctured one of his lungs with a vicious forwards thrust that drove the Watch Master to the edge of parapet. The horizon throbbed a dull, corrupted red and he could tell that this assault would be a failure. The reinforcements had been delayed for too long, and with the Imperial Forces so weakened by the sudden Orkish attack... there was no way they could take Valdegard this day.

He parried another thrust, swinging his Glaive down to deal his own crippling injury to his opponent, but already more heretics were pushing their way onto the wall- clearly with no intention on honoring a one on one duel. All around him his brothers were falling. Brother Sergeant Arden still lived, but his Kill Team was down to three effective. Kill Team Hestios was wiped out, Gascoigne under heavy fire and even Captain Raoul was reportedly seen streaming out of one of the towers, his jumppack badly malfunctioning from some sort of booby trap. If things kept up...

"Watch Master. Primary Objective Achieved. Calling for teleportation extraction in 5..."

Pyrannius didn't need to hear the rest of the communication, instead turning and leaping from the wall. The astonished cries and spattering of curses from above did nothing to give him pause, and in seconds the beam of light from his orbiting ship plucked him from midair and delievered him and his surviving brothers to safety. There was a pang of regret as he watched Imperial Guard surge towards the fortress, knowing that there was no way they would succeed in their assault with or without his marines.

An Imperial loss, even a massacre that could cause this campaign to extend for untold weeks- but it wasn't all for nothing. The Deathwatch had what they came for. Surely it would be worth the cost.

Chaos Victory!