The answer came not from Seraphiel, but from the distant hiss of pressurised air as the restraints disengaged. The cradle lowered, carrying the ancient warrior from the Sepulchre towards the arming cage. Ribbed hoses and thick bundles of cables trailed from his sarcophagus, their connections releasing one by one with metallic clicks and sudden bursts of vapour. Beyond the open doors, the arming servitors awaited their charge.
"The customary rites have changed little, Honoured-Brother," Seraphiel replied. "Though I fear the same cannot be said of the galaxy."
"Then perhaps you might begin by explaining it, rather than leaving me suspended in a cage."
"In due course, Honoured-Brother."
The arming cage swallowed the Dreadnought in a haze of steam and candlelight. Tech-adepts checked the great pistons of his legs, replenished his sacred lubricants and topped up the coolant reservoirs. Seraphiel moved between them, inspecting each connection with practised precision. The ancient warrior endured it in silence until a servitor began reciting the first of the prescribed maintenance litanies.
"The Litany of Reawakening is customary, Honoured-Brother."
"I am aware of what it is. I am saying it was unnecessary."
Seraphiel bowed his head and continued his work.
At the far end of the cage, Chaplain Malachai approached in robes of deepest black, his crozius held before him. He had been waiting for the ancient warrior's awakening, and now raised his voice in prayer. The words of the Chapter's rites echoed between the iron walls as servitors lit votive candles and fixed them to the sarcophagus. Their flames trembled in the rising vapour, illuminating the worn heraldry and the dark iron halo above the tomb.
The Dreadnought listened, his red optics following the Chaplain.
"In my time, we required no candles to prepare for battle."
"And yet, Honoured-Brother, the Chapter has preserved these traditions in your absence," Seraphiel answered, carefully to ensure he did no break the cadence of the prayer.
For a moment, the ancient warrior saw another chamber. Another Chaplain. The smell of hot metal and incense mingling beneath the gunmetal vaults of a Legion warship. A voice reciting blessings before the doors of a drop pod sealed shut.
Then the memory faded.
A servitor wheeled the plasma cannon into position. Its heavy coupling locked against the waiting mount, and Seraphiel personally oversaw the attachment of the power feeds. Fresh plasma canisters were secured within the weapon's housing, each one checked before the final seals were fastened. Coolant lines connected with sharp hisses, and a faint turquoise glow stirred deep within the coils as the weapon's spirit answered its first waking communion.
The Dreadnought's optics burned brighter.
For an instant, the arming cage vanished. He stood beneath a blackened sky, his cannon blazing. Burning plasma bolts streaked across a field of shattered stone, striking traitor armour and reducing men and machines to incandescent fragments. The enemy line buckled beneath the fury of his fire. He remembered the heat, the recoil, the certainty of the target.
Next came the power claw. Its great fingers were inspected, their actuators tested before the weapon was secured to the armature. Hydraulic lines locked into place, and the pistons flexed with a deep metallic groan. The ancient warrior watched the claw open and close, its talons catching the candlelight.
Another memory stirred.
Green-skinned brutes howling beneath a blood-red sun. The thunder of crude weapons against his armour. An immense Ork looming over him, only for the Dreadnought's claw to close around its torso. Bone, iron and alien flesh crumpled beneath the crushing force. He remembered the satisfaction of driving forward, unyielding, while the greenskins broke around him.
The claw closed once more.
"Your Power Claw is fully operational, Honoured-Brother."
"I should hope so. It was built to crush the enemy, not admire it."
Finally, the underslung storm bolter was loaded. Fresh magazines were seated, the ammunition feeds secured, and the weapon's targeting systems brought online. Seraphiel checked the final connections while Malachai concluded his prayers, the Chaplain's voice rising above the steady hum of awakening machinery.
The storm bolter spoke.
A short, thunderous burst rattled through the arming cage as the weapon completed its function test. The sound struck something deep within the ancient warrior. He remembered advancing through smoke and falling ash, the storm bolter roaring with righteous fury as traitors and xenos alike vanished beneath a relentless hail of fire. He remembered his brothers advancing at his flanks, their banners raised against the darkness.
Then came another image, fleeting and indistinct: a figure before him, a voice lost beneath the gunfire, and the terrible impact of a blow he had chosen to receive.
The memory slipped away before he could grasp it.
Seraphiel stepped back as the last cables were disconnected. Steam drifted from the arming cage, and the votive flames shivered in the wake of the departing servitors. Chaplain Malachai lowered his crozius and offered the ancient warrior a final blessing.
"The Chapter has need of you once more, Honoured-Brother."
The Dreadnought's optics settled upon him.
"Then let us not waste another moment."
His great pistons locked into position. The weapons settled beside him, their machine spirits roused and eager. Above the candle flames, his iron halo caught the light as the arming cage doors began to open.
"Now," the ancient warrior growled through the vox, "tell me what has become of my Legion."
So, Dreadtober marches on, and the first weekly check-in always seems to creep up far too quickly. Somehow, I never quite seem to have made as much progress as I wanted to by the time it rolls around.
The current state of my Dreadnought is thus.
As you can see, I've made some progress, but we're still very much in the "part-painted and looks like shit" phase of the project.
The Bone
The bone-coloured armour is nearly done. I think all that's left is a fine white line highlight and some chipping with Rhinox Hide to really make those edges stand out and finish the effect.
I've gone a little outside my usual painting method with this one. Rather than starting with my normal approach, I laid down a basecoat of Wraithbone before applying an overall coat of Speedpaint Pallid Bone.
The main colour was then built up using Pallid Wych Flesh from GW, applied with a circular drybrush motion to gradually develop the colour and coverage.
It's a slightly different approach for me, but I'm pretty happy with how it's coming together.
Black Is Never Really Black
The black on the sarcophagus has been an interesting little experiment.
I've discovered that the trick to painting black is not to paint black.
I'm using Corvus Black as the basecoat. It's actually a very dark grey, almost charcoal in appearance, which gives me a much better starting point for highlighting than a true black would.
The edges have been picked out with Mechanicus Standard Grey, and the plan is to give everything an all-over wash of Agrax Earthshade. This should tie the colours together and bring a warmer tone to the highlights.
After that, I'll go back over the armour plates with Corvus Black, much as I do with my Black Legion, to tidy everything up and establish a consistent colour across the armour.
Hopefully, this will give the sarcophagus that dark, near-black finish without losing all the definition in the shadows.
Decisions, Decisions...
The banners have been basecoated with Wraithbone and are ready for their next layer.
The two contenders at the moment are Sigvald Burgundy and Dark Angels Green. Either would give the banners a colour of their own and help distinguish them from the main body of the Dreadnought.
I haven't made my mind up yet, so I'll leave that decision for another day.
Perhaps I'll see which one takes my fancy when I next sit down at the painting desk.
The Base
Moving down to the base, the first coat of Mournfang Brown is on.
This provides the dirt colour that I use consistently across my armies, helping to tie them together visually. The Tyranids and Death Korps are the exceptions, as both were built around urban bases for a separate project.
There's still plenty to do here, but at least the groundwork has begun.
One decision remains, however: what exactly am I going to do with the unfortunate Chaos Space Marine beneath the Dreadnought's foot?
I'm leaning towards painting him as a Word Bearer, but I'm not entirely convinced yet.
Suggestions are welcome!
Until Next Week...
And that's where we are for this week's check-in.
Progress has been made, the bone armour is nearing completion, and the black is beginning to take shape. There's still a fair bit to do before this ancient warrior is ready to stride back onto the battlefield, but we're getting there.
We'll check in again in a week's time and see how much further I've managed to get.
Until next time, have nice day!
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