Welcome to the second of three posts dealing with my Heldrake conversion! Today on Raising Hell: the finished model. But before we reach that particular goal, here’s where we left off last time:
With all the base colours in place, the next step was to apply the washes: Most of the model was generously washed with GW Agrax Earthshade to add some shadows to the red and bronze parts. The silver areas received the same treatment, only with GW Nuln Oil. After everything was well and dry, I drybrushed the Bronze with GW Dwarf Bronze, added a thin layer of GW Blood Red for the red parts and finally did some accents on the silver areas with GW Mithril Silver.
I also wanted to add an additional spot colour to show the power burning through the daemon engines innards. For that, I chose a simple OSL effect in light blue that was added to the head, mouth, engine and the underbelly of the model:
Another thing I wanted to do was to give the model a suitably detailed base. I knew I wanted some kind of ruined building, but all I had was a leftover Necromunda bulkhead. So I cut that apart, constructing a small ruin and added a couple of bitz as well as some of my trademark cork. Here’s what the painted base looks like:
As you can see, while I painted the ruined structure to look like rusty metal, the base itself was painted to fit in with the rest of my World Eaters. I also added numerous small details like the half-buried, dead (or is that dying?) Space Marine, two soldier’s graves and the unfortunate gravedigger himself — obviously, when they finally got him, there was nobody left to do the honours…
An opening was cut into the cork to leave a space for the flight stand to be inserted.
With both the model and base painted, I did a couple of final adjustments: The final set of wings could finally be added, changing the model’s silhouette quite a bit. But see for yourself. I give you: The Hellrazor.
As you can see, the OSL added to the model’s “mouth” makes it look like the baleflamer is just heating up:
And as a huge videogame nerd, I cannot help but feel immensely pleased by the fact that the Hellrazor’s shape recalls nothing so much as an endboss from a mid-90s 16bit shoot ‘em up like R-Type or Thunder Force:
All in all, I am prepared to call this project a success: Granted, this beast was a chore to paint, but I think that I’ve managed to convert a flyer that looks decidedly different from the original Heldrake will still maintaining a visual balance between jetfighter and strangely organic daemon engine. And the model also looks pretty similar in silhouette to the Forgeworld flyers — hence the name “Hellrazor”, to show a certain kinship to the Hell Blade and Hell Talon, in case you’re still wondering (there’s also another, even more obvious pun hidden in there, but I’m confident you’ll figure it out on your own 
).
So the model was finished — all’s well that ends well, right? But wait, there was still the ToS contest to consider! Since I wanted to submit my flyer for the contest, I still needed to write a short piece of fluff to go with the model. Being a bit of an overachiever in this respect, I actually wrote two:
The cavernous hall was illuminated by the flickering half light of the grand furnace. Lorimar’s eyes needed a moment to adjust. Then he could see Deracin standing in front of the huge daemon engine, gazing up at its form. Lorimar approached the Keeper of the Forge. “I salute you, hunter. You requested my presence?” Deracin turned to face him and inclined his head. “Yes, lord.” But he did not say anything more.
“Is this about the daemon engine, then?” Lorimar growled. Deracin nodded ponderously. “Aye. As you can see, the vessel itself has been completed.” He gestured towards the shape of the war machine. Lorimar could see the pointed wings and jagged armour plates, he could see where fleshmetal had grown to fuse with the machine’s structure. Suspended above them was the daemon engine’s head, a grinning brass skull. The rest remained half hidden by the shadows, although Lorimar got a sense of the strangely organic shape of the thing. “And the incantations?” he growled.
Deracin kept his gaze locked on the machine, only the mostly bionic side of his face visible to Lorimar. “The bindings are in place. We have also completed the rituals. Yet something is amiss. I can feel it.”
Lorimar turned to face Deracin: “And what of …the pilot?”
Deracin seemed to grow uneasy. “My lord, it would be best not to refer to him as that any longer. We cannot be sure of what remains after the rituals. And truth be told, there was not much left even before that…” His voice trailed off.
“No, Deracin. He was our brother, an honoured member of the company. I refuse to refer to him as anything but.” Lorimar could feel the Keeper of the Forge’s gaze on him: “Even so, my lord, the binding seems incomplete. There is naught we can do.”
“Let me handle this, then!” Lorimar turned to face the huge brazen skull, seemingly suspended in nothingness. Then he addressed it:
“Old friend, forgive me for disturbing your slumber. But the company has need of you. There is still prey to run down. Your hunt is not yet over.”
They could both feel it. A strange feeling of otherness. And then a sound, low and guttural at first, but still unmistakeable: the sound of a huge animal drawing breath.
Whatever the daemon engine suspended in darkness above them may have housed. It lived.
***
With the pounding of heavy artillery vibrating through his body, Lord Commissar Sondheim of the 45th Palthian Grenadiers urged his troops forward: „Advance, men of Palthia!”, he boomed. “Advance and deliver the Emperor’s Wrath to the enemy, lest it fall upon you instead!”
Sondheim used his field glasses to look towards the front lines, where the chaos forces were advancing towards the Imperial position. He could make out the red armoured shapes of their enemies, and he couldn’t suppress a sinking feeling. The traitor legionaries of the World Eaters were deadly in combat, and to let them reach their lines would mean disaster. However, the Guard’s superior firepower had so far proven successful in stalling the enemies’ advance, pinning the abhorrent traitor Astartes and preventing them from rushing the Imperial positions.
Sondheim turned to his aide-de-camp, Junior Commissar Kelso: “Armin, send word to the Lord General that we have matters under control here. As long as our ammunitions supply lasts, we should be able to hold them back indefinitely. The Emperor’s justice will be meted out to these vile abominations.” Telzo nodded and opened his mouth to reply, when both men suddenly heard something above the din of battle: A rolling thunder that was steadily growing louder and louder. “Air support. They have air support!”, Kelso said, his eyes frantically searching the horizon. “Don’t worry, lad!” Sondheim answered. “Just one of those light jetfighters. Our anti-aircraft guns will swat it down like a bothersome fly.” He took a look through his field glasses, and sure enough, there was the shape of a chaos flyer approaching, its shape like a jagged blade. There was something slightly warped about its silhouette, though. Sondheim grinned to himself: It was no use trying to keep track of all the different kinds of corruption that chaos wrought upon both its followers and their wargear. But Throne, that thing was fast! Sondheim could hardly keep it in focus. And the closer it came, the more he felt a certain apprehension. He could see the thing now, shaped like a two-pronged dagger, yet strangely sinuous and organic at the same time, weaving between the bursts of AA-fire that were supposed to take it out. The noise was also getting louder: a strange animal roar, and above it, something else, like the sound of a thousand voices screaming in unison. “What in the name of Terra…?”, he murmured. “My lord,” Kelso’s voice sounded worried, “shouldn’t we abandon this position? It’s coming straight at us!” Sondheim heard his words, but he found himself strangely transfixed, staring at the approaching horror, listening to the rumble of its engines. He could make out details now: The wickedly sharp wings, something that looked like a head, wrought in the shape of a stylised skull, its mouth seemingly weeping blue flame. “Retreat!” he heard Kelso scream above the horrible noise, “Abandon this position!” And it was at this exact moment that Lord Commissar Sondheim knew fear.
And then his world turned into fire.
And with that, my Hellrazor was completed. Any comments or questions about the model? I’s be happy to hear from you in the comments section!
Next time, we’ll take a look at the other entries my model was up against.
Until then, as always, thanks for looking and stay tuned for more!
Filed under: 40k, Chaos, Conversions, Fluff, paintjob, World Eaters Tagged: 40k, background, chaos, chaos space marines, contest, conversion, daemon engine, Heldrake, Hellrazor, khorne, paintjob, Throne of Skulls, ToS, world eaters
