Word Bearer Cultist

Model is armed with an Autogun

As with the other cultists, this model was painted for Shadow War: Armageddon.  While present in every battle, his main claim to fame was keeping a pair of Dire Avengers pinned down behind cover while the rest of the team rescued another member.  He was later cut down by Shuriken fire, but managed to survive with no lasting damage.

Harbinger of Woe…

+“Contact! Contact! Gods, it’s in the trench! Get suppo-[BRZZZT]”+

+”Fire! Fire damn you! Fill that thing with rounds, and clear this damn vox net!”+

[The distinctive bark of autoguns, cut intermittently with the dull whump of mass reactive shells. Static on the comms.]

+”Khorne’s teeth, what is that thing?”+

+”It’s an envoy from the warp! Space Marines, come to kill us! The gods have forsaken us! Forsaken us al-[BRZZZT]”+

+”I said fire, Gods damn you! And why isn’t the vox clear yet?”+

[The autogun fire lessens, the mass reactives steady and relentless. The interference gets worse. Screeches and blurts, like a badly tuned radio, echo in the distance.]

+”What do you mean ‘it isn’t the vox’? Where the hell’s it coming from?”+

+”It’s them, sire! It’s coming from their helme-[CHRRRK]”+

[Silence, briefly. An autopistol clicks as it is loaded.]

+”Alright, you damned beast! Dark Gods, guide my haAAAAAAAARRGH-”+


Static, though no vox remains to transmit it. A squawk of interference from a badly maintained vox-grille.

Perhaps it is laughter.

anonymous asked:

hey Four im curious what free/cheap vsts uve picked up along the years

OOOOOOOOOO i have some good ones

ICECREAM - my fave free synth, very cutsie, very chippy, very versitile, very nice, it’s in like a million of my songs

AlterEgo - very cool musical speech synth, like vocaloid but free

synsect -  “ uses a single sample impulse clock routed through a series of resonant filters to emulate the high frequencies produced by small insect bodies”

MeowSynth - it’s a synth that makes cat meows, but you can also make it sound like other things, i like it a lot

Genobazz - very cool and versitile buzzy bass synth

RaveGenerator - the best best best best best vst for jock-jam style rave stabs

Autogun - a synth that randomly generates different sorts of sounds and has like ten bajillion uniquely generated presets

SuperWave Stylophone - it’s a faithful recreation of a stylophone, enough said

Heart of Sin

Imperial records listed it as Body 6622 of the Alphine Locus System. Local records called it Shyth. Radcliffe called it a miserable hell hole. The Inquisitor stood at the bow of the relic of a boat that was taking them upriver, leaning against the guard rail and staring out at the muddy bank shrouded by jungle foliage. Every now and then he would slap at an encroaching mosquito. But for every buzzing abomination suddenly silenced there were a dozen more. Radcliffe adjusted his fatigues. It was sweltering under the jungle canopy but having his sleeves pulled down ensured as little flesh as possible was exposed to the blood-sucking insects.

 The boat’s horn sounded, a tired rusty toot toot that made Radcliffe think the boat itself wanted to be anywhere else but on this Throne-forsaken river. Her captain, a gap-toothed mariner with a dirty beard and an accent that suggested he had not grown up on this world, was their only source of guidance as Radcliffe and his Vornians strayed from Shyth’s beaten path. The amount of Thrones it had taken to convince him to sail this way was disconcerting.

A light rain began to fall and Radcliffe pulled the hood of his camo-cloak up over his head to keep the worst of it off. It would have felt nice had the rain been cool, but the water falling from the sky was just as hot and sticky as the Inquisitor’s own sweat.

Radcliffe turned his gaze back to the far shore. He squinted. The feeling that someone or something was watching the boat was far too strong in Radcliffe’s mind for his liking. The Vornians must have felt the same way. First Sergeant Remus had assigned two to stand watch on the boat’s flying bridge. Each trooper manned a heavy stubber mounted to the side of the superstructure and they panned them back and forth, covering both embankments. The rest stood on deck. Their autoguns were slung lazily over their backs, much like the Inquisitor’s own, but their eyes never stopped hunting.

Radcliffe sighed and stepped away from the rail. He walked aft along the deck to the pilot house. Climbing the rusty ladder up the side of the superstructure, he pulled open the pilot house door and stepped inside. Captain Ira was at the helm, muttering under his breath. The usual displeasure he had been breathing since the expedition had set out.

Kellan was in the opposite corner, staring out through one of the viewports and trying to keep as far away from the old captain as possible. Radcliffe closed with him, shedding his hood as he trailed rainwater behind him.

“Has the miserable old man said anything else besides cursing us all to hell since I left?” Radcliffe asked.