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Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Plan B!

    The sounds of battle echo from just beyond the fortress. Bolter fire and plasma crashing into steel and sounds of the wounded fills the air. This is not just a scuffle over territory from two rival clans. Something in this tussle was deeper. A grievance that runs deeper than any other in the Imperium. No two enemies have studied their foes as have these two. No greater separation of edicts come from the worlds of man than these two. The Space Wolves, with their impetuous spirit, and the stubborn and dedicated Dark Angels are equally honored in the eyes of the Emperor. Yet, this fray is not about the Emperor's graces or how many trophies sit in their great halls. This is a story that must not be seen by the Emperor's agents. Either side, or both, could be branded heretics. The blood on this battlefield is that of brothers. Ragnar knows that this chess match cannot continue. It must be finished as quickly and thoroughly as possible. The secrets contained in this vault should not be released and, definitely not in the hands of a Dark Angel.

    While the Wolf Lord leads the charge to the front gates. His loyal Wolves taking the full onslaught of what the Dark Angels can muster. The Wolf Lord noticed one thing that may sway this all in his favor, one minor flaw in the defenders. There is no sign of a company master or even a chaplain. the only commander on the field is a librarian. That little fact gives Ragnar the confidence he needs to turn the tide to his favor. For a librarian is versed in all rites of war, but they are not the diligent commanders that win wars. So as the the battle rages on, a lone wolf with a squad of Grey Hunters and his personal wolves sneak around the back door of the fortress. Their only goal is to get in that building. Unfortunately, just as they make their way of of the cover of woods, a shot is fired from the wall of the citadel, hitting a Grey Hunter square in the chest. The plasma blast melts armor and flesh. The Lone Wolf, Hagar, counts out the enemies and quickly assess target priority. Three soldiers of the ten stand out as high priority. The first is that blasted plasma gunner, next, the heavy bolter hiding behind cover, and the last is the Sergeant, only notable by his sword writhed with electricity. Hagar issues commands to each of the men and heads directly for his target, the door.

      The Space Wolves moved forward with their normal version of tactical aggression, trading shots with the defenders of the citadel. They need to eliminate those few defenders. Hagar takes advantage of the sergeant's boldness and sends his wolves to take care of the him. With one word, "Play!" the wolves charge away from their master and barrel into the sergeant, adeptly knocking his sword wide. Hagar, himself, charges at the Dark Angel raining round after round from his heavy bolter. At that same moment, another Grey Hunter falls to the deadly accuracy of a plasma gun in the hands of a Dark Angel. 

    The remaining Wolves howl as they charge the defender's line. Even as the stalwart marines fire their final rounds before receiving the charge, the plasma gun flashes back, incapacitating the firer. The field evens out again. With only half the marines that met here moments ago, things seem grim for both sides. The wolves are still pinning down the sergeant. If only he could get his weapon to bear on one of these creatures, things would be different. Just then, the opening he was looking for appeared. He brought his fist down on the first wolf and fired one bolt pistol shell into the front leg of the wolf, putting it of the fight. The other went down soon after. But it was too late. With only two other of his fellow marines on the field, he sees the only thing that means failure in his eyes. 
       The heavy weapon armed Dark Angel could not hold back the fury of a Lone Wolf in close combat. He is easily knocked aside and stunned long enough for Hagar to make a break for the door. As soon as he starts his sprint to enter the building, the door starts closing. Hagar throws his body into the doorway. The last thing he hears before losing consciousness is the sound of the hydraulics of the door straining to shut and the crunch of armor and bone under the intense pressure. He  is in!

Thursday, July 3, 2014

A different veiw on things

        Well, there has been a lot of interesting things that have come out of Games Workshop since I put up a regular post. With Orks and psychers running amok over everyone's table top. The interesting part for me is simply the changes for 7th edition. As an old school 40k player, I love the changes that were made. I can now play with all the wonderful models that I bought and loving assembled and painted. I know for myself and many others out there, I can not count the hours I have spent on this hobby (not to mention the dollars). Thank you to the designers for the 7th edition rules set, not to mention the new books.

    Anyway.... Now that I have rambled on like a fan boy in the proverbial candy shop. I can get to the story I really wanted to write about tonight.

    I was at work the other day. For those who don't know, I am an auto technician by day. The job I was working at the time was a trailer hitch installation. Easy enough, one would think. There was one part of the job that spark my creative juices. The rear fascia needs to be cut out for the hitch to fit properly. So, like anyone in my field, I pulled out my pneumatic saw and cut out the fascia. Then, I look at it. I guess for the first time. I see this jagged line that the air saw caused. This cracked, marred piece of plastic is a representation of the best laid plans that the manufacturer thought was "good enough" for the owner of this brand new $30,000 car. Then, I looked at it through the eyes of a modeler and painter. This was unacceptable. So, I went to work as if it were one of the models I care about so much, not just following the directions given to me. I break out a Xacto knife and files and clean this rugged line to the point that no will notice that it was ever cut. Next, touch up paint turned that black plastic to the crystal white that the rest of the car was. As I was standing there looking at my work of art, at least in my eyes, I realized that when this car is on the ground and the customer is hooking up their trailer that they will probably never know what extra attention that their car received from my "artistic" hands.

     The morale of this story for me is, if I had not been a modeler and painter of little army men, I may have never looked at this cut/ mold line as something that warranted extra attention. I hope that all you modelers out there noticed the things you do different just because you are a modeler.

Thanks for reading this. I thought it warranted some space on the internet. I hope you enjoyed reading it.