The Ironhowl
"I'll hold this position with this." Ikedon brandished his plasma pistol, steam coiling from its muzzle vents. "And whichever of you miserable bastards is still standing."
Vanar grunted.
"You always were generous with other people's lives."
The next volley struck the tower.
The wall behind them collapsed.
They met the Loyalists head on.
The enemy had abandoned the courtyard and forced their way into the building through the breach. Their advance slowed among the wreckage, funnelling them into narrow passages where numbers counted for less and every doorway became a potential grave. Bolter fire flashed through the darkness, illuminating broken pipes, hanging cables, and the headless statues that lined the walls. Dust drifted across the black ceramite of the Ironhowl, settling into the seams of their armour and the worn engravings beneath its brass trim.
The Ironhowl gave ground by inches.
They had been doing this for a long time.
One warrior fired from behind a doorway, then crossed to another position while his brother covered him. Another dragged a wounded Marine behind a fallen pillar before returning to the firing line. They did not shout orders unless they had to. They knew the distances, the angles, and the small movements that meant a brother was about to shift position.
Their armour was a collection of old wars. Different marks of power plate, mismatched repairs, brass worn dull at the edges, and black ceramite scarred by weapons whose names had long since been forgotten. Nothing matched beyond the colour and the accumulated grime. Nothing needed to.
A Loyalist burst through the smoke, chainsword raised.
Ikedon shot him in the chest.
The warrior fell, but the man behind him stepped over the body and struck Ikedon across the shoulder. The impact drove him against the wall. Something buckled beneath his armour, and pain flared down his arm.
He cursed.
Not the gods, nor the Emperor, nor the dead who had made the universe such an unpleasant place to inhabit.
He cursed the Loyalist specifically, with a string of words that had been old when the Legion still called itself the Sixteenth.
Then he drove his bolt pistol beneath the man's chin and fired.
The Loyalist collapsed.
An officer emerged at the far end of the corridor, recognisable by the ornate markings on his armour and the elaborate crest rising from his helmet. He carried a power sword, its blade shimmering with a pale field of energy.
He advanced without hesitation.
Ikedon met him halfway.
The sword came down. Ikedon twisted aside, caught the officer's sword arm, and drove his forehead into the man's faceplate.
The impact sent a shock through his skull.
The officer stumbled.
Ikedon struck him again.
And again.
The third blow shattered the helmet's crest. The fourth sent the Loyalist to his knees. Ikedon wrenched the power sword from his grasp and drove its blade through the joint beneath his gorget.
The officer fell.
Ikedon stood over him, breathing hard.
Behind him, Vanar was shouting. Bolter fire cracked through the smoke. Someone screamed over the vox, then fell silent.
Ikedon retrieved his bolt pistol.
Five rounds.
He checked the corridor.
The Ironhowl were still holding.
Beyond the ruins, the main battle was moving westward. Columns of smoke rose above the manufactorum district, and distant artillery flashed against the low clouds. The sounds of fighting reached them in muted waves, too far away to distinguish individual weapons.
Zhal's advance had not stopped.
The Ironhowl had done their part.
"Gods damn this universe," Vanar growled.
Ikedon stepped over the body of the Imperial officer.
"That's the spirit."
*****
The Ironhowl: Squad Complete
With Dreadtober continuing to trundle along in the background, I fancied a slight break from the Dreadnought.
Spying a few unfinished Chaos Marines on the desk, I took advantage of a few spare hours a day and got them finished off, bringing the first squad of the Black Legion up to ten men strong.
The two completed this time were the half-bareheaded Marine and the autocannon-wielding Marine.
They follow the usual Black Legion scheme I've been working on: Corvus Black, an Agrax Earthshade wash, and highlights of Mechanicus Standard Grey. Nothing particularly complicated, but it's a scheme I'm happy with, and it'll give the Legion a consistent look as the numbers grow.
The banner carried by the squad champion is a 3D print from a selection of banner STLs I picked up cheaply. There'll be more of those as the Legion progresses, which should help give the various squads a little more individuality.
Other than adding tufts to finish off the bases, I'm still contemplating whether to add a symbol to the red banner. Perhaps part of a Chaos Star painted across it? I'll give that a little more thought before committing paint to it.
But, importantly, the Ironhowl are now ten strong and battle ready, ready to take the field when the Legion next marches to war.
Until next time, have nice day...
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