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Hey guys! So finally finished the last of my Imperial Knights the Lancer Mjlonir! Super happy with both he and the full team of 4 came out and can’t wait to get them on the table on Saturday for their inaugural stomping.

The noxious, chem fog was thick in the air hanging ominously, oppressively pressing down on the atmosphere making even open clearings feel claustrophobic. Sound travelled poorly, amplifying Sjeanus’ breathing to maddening volume, oxygen giving cold comfort, with every breath he took he was closer to death. His rebreather helmet was dashed against the ground when he fell from the burning wreckage and a microscopic crack had formed in his face guard. That was all it would take. Already, after only 2 minutes he could taste cloying blood on his tongue, he had at best another 5 before he would collapse never to wake again.

In those precious two minutes he had sprinted further and faster than he had ever done so in his life, it had depended upon it. In the near distance he could see the enrapturing dance of phoshex fire consuming and twisting a hab-block to nothing, the hellfire defying logic, burning the plascrete like it was kindling wrapped in paper. The flames licked and leapt up the walls, hungrily devouring the structure in a baleful blue-green inferno. Sjeanus momentarily distracted by the death of the building hadn’t noticed, or at least comprehended, the steady vibrations gathering in intensity. The damned thing was chasing him, he knew he would not escape, not this time.

With a deafening crash the Knight Lancer barrelled through a warehouse wall, Ionic shield flaring as it pushed ahead of the metallic behemoth. Training it’s namesake terrifying spear on Sejanus, he had only a heartbeat to consider the impossibility of his situation before a lance of blinding blue hot plasma streaked across the scant gulf separating them, “For the Warmaster” he thought but never had a chance to say….

Galufsson, High King of House Asgard and Jarl of Aesegerheim, let out a slow breath of satisfaction. The traitor princeps Sejanus had somehow leapt from the ruined fuselage of his Knight just as Galufsson had ended it’s existence with his power lance. Such a thing was abominable to the honour code of the knight house and the vermin needed exterminated like the rat that he was. Galufsson still did not understand why his brother had turned on him, such a thing was beyond his comprehension. Beyond radio contact with the rest of his house in the depths of the Gorbal Depression, the rad wastes distorting communication beyond 500 metres had meant he could not warn or question his other brothers. He had to find answers, he had to understand what had happened, most worrying of all would any believe him?

The next objective was Mondus Ayrr, his brothers would be amassing there, there had to be an explanation. If anyone on the planet would know then it would be Magus Curris, it was he whole supplied and outfitted his brothers, communing with their throne mechanicums. He would have known if there was treachery in Sejanus’ heart….




















Element Games - Wargaming Webstore