Fire in the Void
The chronicled account of Brother-Sergeant Kael'en Dra'vok, Salamanders 4th Company
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Part III – A Setback
A scream echoed down the metallic corridor, a sound of terror and finality. Brother-Sergeant Kael'en Dra'vok dropped to his knees beside the motionless form of Chaplain Xav'ien impaled by a power sword from some unseen assailant. The hallway smelled of burnt ceramite and the metallic tang of blood. Silence fell, a deadly quiet over the remaining Salamanders, even as Bray’Arth’s flamers ignited in vengeance.
Xav'ien had been a beacon of morale, his voice a hammer of faith. Without him, hesitation flickered like a candle in the wind. The Astral Claws exploited the moment, pressing with reinforced squads, storming from concealed passages. The Salamanders faltered, retreating to more defensible positions.
Bray’Arth’s fists tore through enemies with unchecked wrath, but even the Dreadnaught’s might could not hold every breach. The corridors were narrow, the fire deadly, and the shadows teemed with foes emboldened by the loss of the Chaplain. Kael'en gritted his teeth, rallying what remained, but every step forward demanded blood, every corner held ambush.
For a brief, horrifying moment, the assault threatened to stall entirely. A secondary breach tore open a side corridor, and more foes poured through, their armored forms gleaming black under emergency lighting. The Salamanders’ advance faltered; the cost of Xav'ien’s death became grotesquely clear.
Yet even in setback, there was resolve. Kael'en’s voice rang out with the Canticle of Nocturne, steel in every syllable, rallying and calling the warriors forward. Bray’Arth’s systems hummed with the promise of retaliation. The Salamanders would not yield. They were fire made flesh, and fire consumes all.
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This is the latest third installment of Dreadtober 2025.
I've been very hit and miss with this project as I've had a busy month with work and running the Mrs around to hospital appointments, so obviously hobby related guff has taken a backseat so far.
With a good week and a half of leave from work and nothing hospital related (fingers crossed) for the foreseeable future, I managed to sit down and have a good painting session this past couple of days and get some serious progress done on Bray'arth.
Firstly I managed to get all the basecoats down, inspire of having lost my pot of Runelord Brass for an entire afternoon...
A lot of the metals are Runelord Brass, mainly for trim on the edge of armour, and Leadbelcher which is for all the mechanical bits and pipes, etc.
Retributor Gold was used for the chapter symbols and the written plates which are riveted onto Bray'arth's chassis in various locations.
The Flames have been started with Averland Sunset and the black panels are Corvus Black, as I wanted a really dark black-grey as opposed to a pure black colour.
The main colour everyone is probably wondering about is the green, which is Waaagh! Flesh. I nice rich dark green, which I feel pulls towards that 30k look without having to go out and buy new paints like Vulkan Green, etc.
The next step is the messy one, in that he gets covered entirely with Agrax Earth shade.
This shades the entire model in one go, warming the metals and adding depth to the green, whilst adding a richness to the Corvus Black, which I only found out by accident when painting some Black Legion.
This is how Bray'arth Ashmantle stands at the moment. Next steps are to reblock in the base colours and then edge highlight. Finally the flames will get that classic GW yellow-orange-red transition if I can pull it off.
I've still got plenty of time to get him finished, later in the month then I originally planned, but that's life.
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Shadows in the Halls
Darkness settled like a shroud in the underdecks, the kind that swallowed even auspex readings. Bray’Arth paused, motionless save for the slow exhale of his reactor core. “They hide,” he murmured through the vox, “like vermin in the forge’s ash.”
Then came the strike—shapes falling from the ceiling vents, silent and fast. Renegade assassins, their armor blackened and their blades poisoned with cowardice. They struck with desperation, blades scraping harmlessly against his armor before flame erupted in retaliation.
The corridor ignited. Shadows screamed as they burned, their forms thrashing in the sudden inferno. Kael’en’s squad moved in behind him, precise and merciless, cutting down any who escaped Bray’Arth’s reach.
One assassin tried to flee. Bray’Arth extended a claw and caught the foe mid-stride, lifting him effortlessly. “You chose darkness,” he rumbled, voice echoing like a furnace god’s verdict. “And the dark will claim you.” The renegade’s body turned to ash in his grip.
When the flames subsided, nothing moved but the slow drift of smoke. Bray’Arth advanced once more, the firelight dancing over his armor as he whispered a single word—half machine prayer, half vow.
“Purge.”
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Until next time, have nice day...
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