Hey guys, Ethan here! Sorry for the delay, my comp literally exploded. Well, we definitely have A LOT of progress to show. Models, maps, new members, and alliances to top it off.
First, as you may have read in the Futile update, we are currently working together to further both of our mods. No, for you fluff addicts (myself included, but that’s hypocrisy for you) Vostroyans and futile will not be doing epic battle amongst the stars (unless you find someone nifty with the mod tools… wink wink) however they will both be available to downloaded as one pack, so you don’t have to worry about downloading two different programs. AND as you may have already known we are still helping the LATD mod getting working, and they have made significant progress. They now have a working alpha and models/maps to back it up. But those will be shown later in the update.
FIRST OFF allow me to introduce our newest animator/modeler/texturer Wereturnip! Give em a big round of applause!
Now onto the good stuff! MODEL TIME
One of my favorite models to date: The Vostroyan VIIth Iron hammers
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5th rifle vetren update
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Next is our lascannons variant of the turret.
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AND the autocannon
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The lasgun model is finished: Next step is to throw on a bayonet and we’re done modeln.
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And our basic shotgun: Look at the variant on the top. The final copy will have twin barrels
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The Anti armor shotgun is also almost done
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MAPPING UPDATE
Gaffer:
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George:
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Fluff time!
Ethan Miller
The aftermath
Part 1: The awakening
Upon waking the first thing that bothered Kellen was a slight disjointed feeling around the area where his left leg met his thigh. He also felt a slight numbness in his right eye. That not withstanding, within the next four seconds Brigadier General (First Class) Avantile Kellen of the Vostroyan Firstborn 16th Rifles would realize that there were several truths that were known to him aside of his apparent loss if contact with several vital parts of his body. Kellen was; awake, in pain, still among the living, and without a left leg. He had time to marvel at what in the hell was going on before an image popped into his mind. Two blood red eyes, peering at him through the darkness of the night. It was at that point he was slammed back into the hospital bed by what felt like living wave of pain. He attempted to shout out, managing something akin to a dry rasp before the intensity of the pain once again flung him back into unconsciousness. A source of light throbbed once, then faded out. The last thing he saw before slipping into the darkness was a pair of blood red eyes, burning with malice.
It is the year 41,221. Man has achieved travel among the stars, establishing vast empires stretching across the galaxy. However man is not alone, and has known that for the past 25,000 years. Ever since then Man has struggled to survive huge incursions of Xenos(aliens) fleets, galaxy spanning civil war, and horrors vomited from the darkest corners of sanity. The area leading from these portals are called the Warp, where all the evils of hell are spawned, brought forth into this world by a tide of darkness. Humanity was united under the flag of a being known only as the Emperor. A great leader in war or peace, the Emperor led man into the stars, and then to victory over his enemies. It is debated greatly among man whether the Emperor was a god or a mortal, however he was felled when half of mankind’s greatest defenders, the Space marines went mad and defected to the side of chaos, fallen to the foul energies of the warp. He remains kept alive in his gold throne by life support. Man has many defenses against these Xenos and Daemons. First and foremost, the great warriors of the Adeptdues Astartes, the Space Marines, lead the charge in the defense of mankind, and in some occasions against it. Standing at over 8 feet tall in massive suits of Power Armor, the space marines are genetically altered humans, made to wistand blows that fell any normal man, made to lift dozens of time their weight. They are the space marines, they fear no Daemon, man, or alien. They are the tip of the spear of humanity. But the main military force of the Imperium consists of the Imperial guard; men and woman entrusted with the defense of trillions. Regiments are raised from across the galaxy, from the desert planet of Tallarn, to the war torn plane of Cadia. One of the most illustrious branches of the imperial guard, the Vostroyans, are known for their bravery in combat, Skills in both ranged warfare and close combat, and top notch weaponry and armor.
This is the 42nd millennia, and there is only war…
Part 2: The aftermath
Sister Vinduel, sister of the Order of the Grey lady, was in the middle of her morning prayers to the Emperor when the com unit embedded into her ear (which has been implanted previous to the completion of her apprenticeship with the Order) squawked in a loud burst of static. Vinduel winced and touched the small button located on the lower section of the com-unit and sighed, “Repeat again please?”
A sharp ornery woman’s voice repeated back through the earpiece, “I said, your assistance is required in the infirmary!” Vinduel noticed sister Montag’s voice sounded especially exasperated today. Not that she normally didn’t, on the battlefields of Barad II thousands of men were sent to the “hospital”, for lack of a better word, with horrible wounds. Be it missing limbs, chest cavities split open, or internal organs hanging loosely from the stomachs of young men, torn by some ghastly form of Ork weaponry. Varkuel sighed once again, made the form of the Aquila over her chest, and began to proceed down the stairs connecting the two bunkers together.
Several minutes later Sister Vinduel arrived in the infirmary just as a young Vostroyan was carried out. She glanced at the man’s eyes and looked away with a shiver as she recognized the blank stare that nine times out of ten meant he was among the dead. She had seen this look thousands of times, maybe even millions throughout her career, but the look still unnerved her to this day. She paused once again to make the sign of the Aquila, and continued onward. Several more minutes later, she spotted Sister Montag leaning over the head of a older soldier, adjusting the drip so that it flowed better. Vinduel thought to herself, 20,000 years and we still use those blasted things… It was a marvel how stubborn the Adepdues Mechanicus was about releasing their technology to the rest of man. For god’s sake, we’re on the same blasted side! Blasted Tech Priests, idiots the lot of em… She cursed in her head, and hurried over to Montag’s side. Sister Montag glanced up and glared at her. “Took your khecking time didn’t you?” she growled. Vinduel merely glanced at her elder and replied icily, “That’s not exactly language that a sister should be using is it?” She saw Montag’s eyes grow wide and quickly cut off the retort that was surely to come. “What is it that you want Montag that was so important it required interruption from my prayers.”
Sister Montag sulked for a little, pretending to fiddle with the troopers drip, then glanced back up at Vinduel. “It seems one of the brass has ended up in our infirmary, pleasant little place it is, and apparently he was involved in some operation or black ops or whatever the hell you want to call it. Now we have a khecking commissar poking his nose around here, and half the troops can’t even get any damn sleep thanks to his constant questioning. I swear if he ends up ‘delivering the emporer’s mercy’ to any of these boys I swear….” Montag continued to ramble for a bit, throwing in a few swear words for good measure. Vinduel’s limited patience, which had been frayed already thanks to the fact that she had been awake for the past two days straight, finally snapped.
“So how in the HELL does this involve me?!” she shouted. Montag looked up sharply at the young Sister, and her eyes narrowed. “What I need from you miserable little brat is to find out what in the warp happened to the poor sod! The Commissar informs me that this man is far more important than we can imagine, bloody tosser that he is. He’s tried to die on us three times already and it looks like he might try again. Not that he can control it… but by the emperor I wish he’d just give us some peace and quiet for once in a bloody blue moon.” Sister Vinduel sighed, realizing she had overreacted. However she couldn’t bring herself to admit to her superior that she was wrong, so merely grunted and asked reluctantly, “Where is he then?” Montag pointed in an easterly direction and then went back to checking the vitals on the trooper.
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Kellen awoke with a start, the sound of far away artillery jolting him out of whatever dark dreams he had been experiencing. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, what happened, or why he couldn’t feel his leg. It was almost as if someone had taken a cup of water and poured it over the parchment that was his mind. He felt like his mind was soggy and running, memories blurring into clouded smeared shapes. He started with the basics: Who am I?
Advantile Kellen, Brigadier general of the Vostroyan 16th, his mind rattled off.
Where am I?
How the hell should I know? His mind replied sourly. Kellen sighed and reached down to scratch his leg, and met nothing but air. He froze, his heart skipping a beat. My leg…my leg…Holy throne where is my khecking leg! He ripped the sheets off his body and glanced down at a mangled stump. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. I’ve been through worse….I’VE BEEN THROUGH WORSE! He screamed franticly inside his head. And he had… he had been through his fair share of wars, fights, and massacres. Not that he could remember any of them of course, though something nagged at the back of his mind at the thought of the word massacre. He dismissed it for the time being, more important things on his mind. Like where the hell was he…. And what the hell happened to his leg. Suddenly something struck him: He couldn’t see out of his right eye. He moaned aloud, hoping what he knew was true wasn’t. He felt around the face, his hand met the bandage, and felt around the area where his eye should have been. Nothing…. By the gray lady…echoed around his mind.
“Finally awake then I see?” said a cold voice from the corner of the room. He whirled around in his bed, and a bolt of pain shot through his head. His hand automatically clutched where his VLAPS ( A small handheld Vostroyan shotgun) should have been, in its holster around his belt. Of course he was not in a belt, nor was his beloved fire arm anywhere in sight. “Who…ah...who are you?” he managed to groan through gritted teeth.
“I believe that’s the question I should be asking you.” She replied icily. He looked up and took in her form with a quick glance. The sister, which she obviously was due to her distinct robes, stood at around five foot four, dark black hair hanging just below her shoulders. She had bluish eyes with a tint of hazle, and a longish nose. He instantly recognized her as a Vostroyan. He rubbed his forehead, looked up at her and said, “Brigadier general Advantile Kellen of the 16th Vostroyan. And that’s all I can remember…” She sighed impatiently. “Look, I don’t have time for this. Apparently you’re important enough to warrant my complete and utter attention. Is there ANYTHING, anything at all that you can remember prior to your arrival in our cozy little infirmary?” Kellen did not like being talked to like an idiot. He glared at her and replied, “And I told you I don’t remember anything else. I apologize for inconviencing you, woe is me for losing my memory, leg, and eye. War has a habit of inconvient poor people like you.” And with that he flipped over on his side, sending a talon of pain tearing through his body. He managed to choke it off, attempting to remain at least a tad bit dignified in the face of this woman. “Listen smartass, my job is to take care of the hundreds of wounded soldiers who are flown in here from the distant battlefields of wherever-the-hell-we-are, and if you’re going to waste my time sulking then so be it. My name is Sister Vinduel and I’m going to be your nurse. Glad we met…” she growled, and stormed off out of the room. Kellen sighed, marveling at his usual bad luck with woman and attempted to get some sleep.
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“Squad Alpha, cover the right flank! The orks are making a push! Bandol, take your squad and move forward, we’ll beat these blasted green skins yet!” Shouted one Ardvantile Kellen, as a rabble of Ork ‘Choppa Boyz” attempted to storm the easterly flank of the rocky bluff. Disciplined volleys of Shotgun and Lasfire managed to cut down the vast majority of the green skins, however enough crashed into the lines to be impaled on the ornate chainswords of the Kellen’s own Iron Hammer squads. Blood stained the snow of the bluff as the whirring teeth of chainswords tore through the thick muscled flesh of the Orks, chunks of meat flying through the air. A voice shouted through Kellen’s comm. Unit, “Sir, we can’t hold em! We got a khecking army of Nobz charging our lines, our men can’t hold out for long!” The transmission was heavily laden with static, and Kellen had pause an additional 5 seconds to attempt to piece together the transition. However when he did he let out a curse, and replied over the radio, “Try to hold out just a bit longer Yavule, the refugees are almost safe! If we retreat now the orks will butcher them!” The voice over the radio replied, “Sir, if we stay here much longer the Orks will butcher US! We can hold out for maybe another half an hour, but by then our Ragnarok will be out of shells. May the Emperor and the Grey lady help us if that happens…. Yavule out.”
Kellen gritted his teeth and growled. Let them come, he thought. He unsheathed his power saber, an ornate blade embedded with an electric charge that would trigger upon impact, throwing enemies back several feet and chopping through both steel and flesh with ease. He cocked his bolt pistol and approached the east flank preparing to join his men in a last ditch attempt to hold the line. Emperor forgive them if they couldn’t….
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Part 3: Aftershock
“Apparently he is one Advantile Kellen, Brigadier general of the Vostroyan 16th. He was recently reassigned prior to his involvement in the Tuscov campaign. Quite the leader if his file is to be believed. And get this, he isn’t technically a Vostroyan” Muttered Sister Montag.
“What?!” exclaimed Sister Vinduel, “A Vostroyan Firstborn isn’t a Vostroyan?”
“By the looks of it his entire home colony was attacked by ork raiders. Apparently he’s the only one who survived…” Replied Montag.
“Poor bastard…. Makes you almost feel sorry for the ornery prick…” Stated Vinduel Sourly.
“Now now, that’s not quite the language a sister should be using is it?” mocked Montag. They were in the Imperial during the early hours of the day. Long rage artillery blasts lit up the glass windows depicting the emperor’s many victories and triumphs. Xenos heretics and traitors being cast down by his majesties brilliance. Montag and Vinduel had chosen the place to review the patient that had so recently attracted the attention of the Inquisition. An inquisitor flanked by what appeared to be ogryns in power armor approached Montag earlier that morning. For the first ten seconds she simply stared, unable to answer the inquisitors questions, till he gave her a sharp slap across the cheek. That got her talking, a stream of curses escaping her lips. He had asked about one Advantile Kellen, discussing with Montag who this man was, and told her to watch him closely. She was to notify him if anything strange happened. Like what? She had asked. He merely glared at her and said, “Trust me, you’ll know”. So now here they were, huddling in one of the many iron pews in the imperial chapel, discussing Kellen’s fate
“There’s something not quite right about this lad,” said Montag, “ I’m not sure what, but every time I’m near him there’s just something…. Off. “ “Just keep an eye on him then. I’m going to perform some more tests on him, see if we can find out a bit more about him… And perhaps we can see just what the hell happened to him to effect his brain like that.
“What?” Montag grunted
“Something is wrong with his brain, apparently its a lot more active than a normal one. Some kind of mutation? Only time will tell…”
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The balded edge of Kellen’s power saber bit deep into the flesh of the giant ork Warrior, an electric charge allowing him to eviscerate his foe with ease. The ork tumbled to the ground, slit neatly in half. Nearby a volley of shotgun shots were fired, pumps racked, then fired again. He raised his own handheld shotgun and joined in the fire, shooting randomly into the teaming horde that filled the gully in front of him. They just keep coming… by the emperor! We’ve killed over two thousand of these beasts and there’s still thousands more! Kellen thought grimly. It seems intel had underestimated just how large this horde was. The initial estimation had been somewhere between four thousand and seven thousand, normally no problem for a single Vostroyan Regiment. But for some reason they had deployed not one, but seven regiments! Something was clearly amiss. It seems not only was the original estimation off, but now garbeled reports of some third party advancing from the south were arriving. The men who had been on the line were in hysterics, some crying some gibbering, all talking about living shadows that swallowed men whole. Kellen had dealt with the foul horrors spat forth from the warp and had seen his fair share of horrors. However, he had bigger things to worry about for the time being. Apparently there were now several hundred thousand orks festering on this backwater Agriworld, and he had just kicked the hive. He dove under the blade of a muscly Nob and Stabbed upward with his power saber. His blade punched through the skull of the nob, and with a quick twist he decapitated the greenskin. Then he pulled out his sword with a spin and stabbed it into the gut of a nearby Ork with a flourish. He dived backwards and pulled out his Shotgun, firing repeatedly into the advancing horde, felling a score of orks. He activated the speak command on his comms headset, and yelled into it, “Joeseph! Get your fire team to fire on the orks in the valley! That’s an order! NOW!”
“Aye aye sir! Would you like fries with that sir?” replied Seargent Boscov jokingly.
“….What the hell are fri- Never mind…. Just do it Boscov!” Kellen roared back. Boys needs to learn some respect, thought Kellen darkly. Five seconds later a huge beam of light vaporized a horde of incoming Choppa boiz. Not three seconds later, the hearty roars of heavy bolters were heard, and thousands of explosive shells went hurtling into the Mob, tearing apart orks right and left. The heavy weaponry of Squad Hadar opened up, more lascannons and heavy bolters joining the din every second. For a second kellen thought, we might just win this…
That was until the sky split open…. And out one of the foulest darkest beings ever to curse the galaxy with its presence. A prince of darkness and daemons. Know only as-….
Part 5: Recovery
The lights blew out above his bed, as Kellen suddenly shot straight out of bed and roared “MALZAROK! THE DARK PRINCE OF THE WARP, CREATURE OF SHADOW AND DEATH!” Alarms sounded as windows and glass broke. Kellen had no clue what was going on, only Firey red eyes gleaming through the darkness that clouded his mind. And he knew that he stared into the very eyes of death, so anciant that they dwarfed his puny lifespan thousands of times over. He was a worm in the eyes of the beast that could slaughter worlds. And he felt like something was digging its bloody claw into his mind, tearing apart the very fragments that held his sanity in check. The words, dear emperor the dark name and title of the dark prince that haunted his mind were being burned into his mind by a dark menevolent force. He could remember now…. The battle, the attack on his homeworld, and even before that the experimenting… something had been awry in his childhood and he know knew why… He had seconds to take this in before it was all blasted away by a wave of pain. He convuled again, and somehow a huge crater appeared in the wall, as if hs very pain had affected the physical universe, he screamed again, blood streaming from his ears, before being slammed once again into the bed. He descended into darkness, and fiery eyes awaited him….
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“MALZAROK! THE DARK PRINCE OF THE WARP, CREATURE OF SHADOW AND DEATH!”
Vindeul was thrown back from the door by the shear force of the words spoken by the trooper. An image flashed through her mind, her entire family, planet, friends, sisters, men, woman and children, all dead, burning in the fires of the warp. The image was gone as soon as it had come. All the windows and glass around her broke, sending out a storm of shrapnel, she covered her face just in time as several inch long shards embedded themselves in her arm. She screamed, and fell to the ground stunned. She tore her the shards out of her arm with a grunt, quickly bandaging up her arm with cloth torn from her pants. A slam shook the base, in the direction of Kellen’s room. She sprinted full blast towards the origin of the sound, drawing her capitol as she ran. She entered the hallway that linked kellens room to the rest of the infirmiry. The door lay smoking ten feet from the door way, and the lights in his room flickered creepily, sparks shooting off here and there. She saw Fiery red eyes, and once again saw the visage of death. She snapped back into the present, and saw kellen twitching on the bed. Suddenly he twisted over on his side, and a huge blast hit the wall, tearing apart a hold three feet deep and four feet wide. Her jaw dropped in shock, and feel to her knees, terrified. _____________________________________________________
-Known only as: Malzarok. An ancient creature of the warp, millions of years old. One of the great Daemons of the warp, ancient creatures of shadow and death. Older than time itself, they haunt he shadows whispering in the ears of the mad and sane alike. And now Kellen was on the same battlefield as the beast. For a full seven seconds ork and man alike stood rooted to the spot, jaws and scaly tusks dropped open. The Daemon landed on wings of fire, a huge dark shadowy mass, with only a blade visible. And the two, fiery red eyes, peering into the very souls of the men and green skins who made up the two fighting forces clashing on this frozen battlefield.
The ork war boss was the first to snap out of the fear driven stupor, and with a mighty WAAAAAHHHGGHHHH!!!! Charged the fell daemon. This was an ork who had never been bested in combat, and he’d be damned if he let one of ‘dem scary boiz’ best him now. The daemon merely looked at him, and stabbed the ork straight through the chest, its 12 foot blade shearing the ork in two with ease. Malzorak laughed, his entire twenty foot form heaving as a sound as loud as artillery barrages echoed forth from the shadowy robes that cloaked the monstrosity. The red eyes within the deep recesses of the hood narrowed, as it shouted out,
“FOOLISH CRETURES! I AM MALZORAK, DARK PRINCE OF THE WARP! YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU HAVE THE STRENGTH TO BEST ME? YOU WILL ALL DIE UPON THIS BATTLEFIELD, AND THIS WORLD SHALL BURN WITH THE FLAG OF CHAOS!”
With that it launched itself into the midst of the chaos, ork and man alike fleeing from the monstrosity. With huge sweeping strikes of its blade it cut down hundreds of beings with single blows. Within the first thrity seconds over five thousand orks and humans were dead, the blade seeming to tear the very souls of its victims from their bodies screaming to the fabrics of insanity. Kellen grasped for his comms radio, and stammered into it, “Ja-ja-joeseph! I need fa-fa-fire support on that…. Thing, NOW!”
A terrified voice replied back, “R-Right sir, uhm well… damnit pull it together man…. FIRE TEAMS OEPN FIRE! Lascannons, target the daemons head! BLAST IT RIGHT BACK TO HELL!”
Triple beams of light slammed into the ‘head’ of the daemon, throwing it off balance and drawning from it a roar that held within the violent insanity that had consumed this beast. He saw several men fall dead to the ground who where near creature. Something clicked in the back of Kellen’s mind, like some long forgotten autopilot function. He suddenly felt a sense of bodylessness, as if some unknown being had taken control on his being. He felt himself draw his power saber and shotgun, feeling adrenaline pumping through his veins… and something else. Some kind of chemical…. Or perhaps it was his imagination. Regardless he suddenly felt light, as if he wasn’t wearing one hundred pounds of carapace armor. He also felt like he could take on the Daemon Prince and win. Wait what? Where had that thought come from…I’m not honestly going to try to fight a DAEMON? Yet his feet carried him onward.
CREATURE OF SHADOW! FACE ME! He shouted within his own mind. The Daemon recoiled as if struck, then spun around, its eyes narrowing.
You are the one…..the keeper….Kellen The words seem to materialize from thin air, each hateful syllable a sound of madness, death, and hate.
You know my name? Said kellen, a little taken aback. Surprised that such a creature would know he existed, alone his name
Of course little one…. We know much about you…. You are the Keeper of course….
What the hell did you call me? Kellen replied calmly within the recesses of his own mind
The keeper…. You are one of great importance to me little one. Through you my greatest success shall be achieved.
Me? I’m just a Guardsman, what in the hell do you want with me?
You underestimate your importance to us little one. Creatures of your own race changed you… made you more powerful then you can possible imagine. Purred the Daemon contently. Made you more…accessible to beings of my magnitude.
During this conversation all time seemed to freeze, shells and lascannons bolts moving lazily across the landscape, drops of blood floating slowly to the ground.
I can only remain in this plane of reality for so long little one. Beings like me cannot remain whole in such a place. That is, unless we take the bodies of those who live in a place on reality such as thissss… But few can withstand the power of a Daemon possession, many simply explode…but no, something has changed within you, something that would allow the likes of me to enter the likes of you… I plan to leave this field WITHIN a new body…YOURS
And with that the Daemon moved like lightning, slamming into Kellen, knocking him back several yards. Kellen however tucked into a roll, landing on his feet. Already the Daemon was hurtling at him, he ducked underneath it and stabbed upwards with his power saber. His sword ripped through the tattered cloak, biting into something before tearing loose. The Daemon shouted and swing its blade in an arch in the direction of Kellen. He attempted to roll out of the way but not before the daemonic blade sliced his leg off right above the knee. As he landed he screamed, and attempted to roll out of the way as the daemon seemed to spit some kind of acid at him. He missed most of it, but a fleck of it landed in his eye. He shrieked as the acid began to eat away at his eye. He roared and got up on his knees. The Daemon uttered another roar of fury, and spun ready to eviscerate Kellen straight down the center. Suddenly a voice roared through kellen’s earpiece, “TAKE THAT YOU BLOODY DAEMON!” And three concentrated beams of las fire smashes through the chest of the daemon, sending it hurtling onto its back. Kellen took this opportunity and charged at the foul Daemon. He jumped on its neck, contact with this creature nearly driving him mad. Images of the raid on his homeworld flew through his mind, his mother being cut down by ork shootas, his father being smashed to bits by an violence drunk war boss. His alter conscious smacked these images aside, and drove the sword deep within the creatures hood. The blade cut deep into decaying flesh, and a scream of pain and fury louder than any artillery blast escaped from where the creatures ‘mouth’ would be. The eyes burned brighter then ever before, miniature suns burning from the hood.
Its over…. Kellen thought. I killed it!
NO! YOU CANNOT KILLE ME PUNY MORTAL! I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED! A black decaying arm shot out and grabbed Kellen’s head. I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED! WILL HAVE MY PRIZE!!
NO! YOU WILL NOT TAKE ME! And with that Kellen hacked off the Daemon’s arm, but not before he felt something slip into his mind. A presence…. But no! He had stopped it!
YOU CANNOT STOP ME LITTLE ONE…NONE CAN STOP ME
Flaming red eyes burned into his mind….
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WHAT DID I TELL YOU LITTLE ONE! YOU CANNOT STOP ME!
Is that really what you think… replied a bemused third voice from inside Kellen’s head….a woman.
WHAT THE, WHO ARE YOU TO CHALLENGE MY WILL
Kellen, you must not give in to this monster, this abomination in the eye’s of the emperor. You are one of my chosen, of my flock. You’ve been marked by the Lady of Gray
Good lord, the gray lady?
Yes my child. You are of the pure, you serve the emperor as I do.
YOU! FOUL BTICH OF THE CORPSE GOD! THIS IS MY VESSAL!
DAEMON! LEAVE THIS ONE ALONE! A shriek from inside his head, a dark evil screech.
What did you do?
He is gone….
You mean…..
Yes. He shall trouble you no more. However I can not completely remove the taint. His will still effects you, however it will give you stregnth in combat. But you must learn to control it. Combined with the other who resides in your mind it’s a dangerous combination.
Wait the other?
I can say no more…
I was afraid of that. Was it this other that had controlled me during the battle?
You could say…..
So what is the chosen saint of the Vostroyans doing in some poor off-worlder’s head?
Kellen, I have chosen you out to lead my chosen regiment, the Vostroyan seventh. You have one of the most brilliant minds and strongest hearts in the entire Vostroyan Army. I could not have you falling prey to Malzorak.
You saved for that I am grateful.
Live up to my expectations Vostroyan, for you are one of us now. Show no fear, n mercy for the enemies of the emperor. Do this and you shall be delivered to great glory in my name.
And with that the presence of the lady was gone, leaving only him and the mysterious other…..
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LOST AND THE DAMNED SECTION
The lost and the damned mod has been making a lot of progress, and to show it they now have an alpha out for you all to enjoy! Come on over to our forums and PM daniel.
Screenies!
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I5.tinypic.com
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Mapping!
209.85.48.12
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So that’s about it! Enjoy the release!!!
Current members
Deathreapa11: Team leader Voice actor
Orc5me: Concept artist voice actor
Vasilli:Map making Possible art
Thudmizer: AI coder
Cadian Guard:Concept art
ZombieDragon: Modeller concept artist mild coding Forum Moderator
Gaffer1991:Map Maker
Death Korps of War: Building concept artist
EldestYoung:Fluff writer and comic artist
Splike_Guy11:map maker voice actor
GeorgeRox26: Map Maker
_BusterWounds: Modeler
Murph:Modeler
Neothoras: Modeler
Themanclaw: Texturer
Wereturnip: Modeler texturer, animator
Cheers!
Ethan
