Fire in the Void
The chronicled account of Brother-Sergeant Kael'en Dra'vok, Salamanders 4th Company
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Part I – The Initial Assault
The void was a frozen tomb. The Obsidian Vigil, support cruiser of the Astral Claws chapter, drifted silently, its bulk punctuated by the flickering energy spark gleam of shattered void shields and splintered hull plating drifting in the void. Through the darkness, fiery beacons streaked across the gap—assault pods, forged in the fires of Nocturne itself, carrying the wrath of the Salamanders. Inside, the ceramite-suited forms of the Chapter’s 2nd Company braced for the violent welcome the renegades would deliver upon their arrival.
Bray’Arth Ashmantle’s Dreadnaught hull glimmered with the patina of countless campaigns. His twin-linked heavy flamers roared to life, spilling searing tongues of flame into the breach, wreckage stillsettling at the assault pods violent approach. He moved with methodical precision, feet of adamantine stepping over molten wreckage as he led the charge. Brother-Sergeant Kael'en Dra'vok followed close, bolter at the ready, every fibre of his being a furnace of righteous wrath.
The breach was met with a storm of bolter fire and the burning walls of flamer weapons, meltas splintering bulkheads and illuminating the void-torn corridors with brief, blinding brilliance. The Astral Claws defenders recoiled, their ferocity undiminished, but the Salamanders advanced. Smoke and flame mingled with the acrid stench of plasma, painting every surface in molten gold and crimson.
Kael'en’s squad moved with practiced synchrony, breaching doors and cutting down foes before they could form cohesive ranks. Every strike was precise; every flamestoke a cleansing judgment. The corridor’s end opened into the central atrium of the Obsidian Vigil, where the roar of battle awaited.
Even as the Salamanders pressed, the whispers of fate drifted through the smoke. Bray’Arth’s visor glowed, scanning for targets of import, while Kael'en’s heart hammered in anticipation. They had taken the first step into the heart of darkness—but the shadow of the Astral Claws would not yield so easily.
*****
It's that time of the year again, when the blog/online hobby community all take to their painting tables and paint something big and armoured.
Dreadtober is back and I'm going to take part for my fourth year.
With things still being up in the air staff wise at work so to speak, and me not knowing just how much time I'm going to have to devote to the hobby, I'm only working on one Dreadnaught this year, but it's a special one.
As I download various STL files for "Project Badab" (more information coming soon), I have had t make the difficult choice of just which chapters to include in my project, as there are far too many through the entire Badab Wars campaign for me to pick EVERYONE!
One of the Loyalists which was an auto include were the Salamanders, with their storyline within and negotiating a ceasefire and surrender with the Executioners chapter being a particular highlight.
When Forge World were originally producing the Badab War big books, and obviously a slice of models to accompany them. One of the models they produced was a named Dreadnaught for the Salamanders, one Bray'Arth Ashmantle.
Perfect.
Perfect to cross something off the list for Project Badab AND take part in Dreadtober with.
So, with some searching I found an excellent STL of the Dreadnaught and seven hours later, my own model was in my hands, de-supported, washed and cured, ready to begin modelling on.
The STL comes in a LOT more pieces then the original Forge World model, which was a resin base copy of the (then current) plastic dreadnaught.
I'm hoping to have him built by the end of this week (I'm writing this on the second of October. and can then get him primed up this weekend, ready to begin work on.
Please head on over to the Dreadtober blog page as there are eleven or twelve of us taking part again this year, and any and all comments are welcome, as there will be links to everyones blogs/instagram pages with updates and WIP photos and everything.
Fire and Iron
The corridor was a narrow tomb of steel and shadow, yet Bray’Arth Ashmantle moved through it like a living inferno. Every step of his adamantine feet sent shudders through the deckplates, every sweep of his massive claws tore reinforced doors and enemy armor alike. The screams of the Astral Claws reverberated off the walls, drowned beneath the roar of flamers that ignited everything in their path.
Kael’en and his squad flanked him, bolters blazing, but it was Bray’Arth who commanded the space. He was fire incarnate, a sentinel of judgment whose mechanical frame consumed enemy resistance as though it were kindling. Every strike of his claws carved death with precision, every movement clearing a path through the choke-point that had once seemed impenetrable.
A squad of Silver and Blue-armoured foes surged from a side hatch, hoping to stem the advance. Bray’Arth swung his claws in a sweeping arc, tearing the first two apart and sending the remainder sprawling into the walls. Sparks rained from twisted ceramite, metal screamed under the force of impact, and the corridor itself seemed to groan beneath the weight of his assault.
Even in the smoke and chaos, Bray’Arth’s sensors scanned, assessing every threat, calculating every strike, directing the path of destruction. The corridor became his domain, every shadow a target, every spark a warning. No Astral Claw could withstand him; no corner offered safety. He was the engine of purification, and nothing in his path would survive the judgment of flame.
Until next time, have nice day...
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