I find the chap above to have a particularly creepy ‘killer clown’ face but the man-in-in-the-iron-mask (below) isn’t going to be winning any glamour contests either. Honestly, it’s enough to make anyone turn to chaos…Ĭontinuing my efforts to build up a nice horde of tech-barbarian scum and disenchanted former-Imperials here’s a couple more additions to the new squad. They were packaged up and, to their humiliation, sold on ebay. When high command finally recognised their plight their relief was short-lived. Some were missing arms, weapons, even heads. Many were badly injured, all were badly painted. Their calls for reinforcements went unheard and they became a battered, broken force. Yet in the end their faithfulness bought them nothing. They fought, suffered and died in the Emperor’s name. What about this mutant? Did desperate pacts with the dark gods see him changed, tormented in flesh and recast in spirit to become the creature we see now? Or did he live a life of shackled ignominy beneath the Imperial heel, too lowly even to be harvested for servitor-spares lest he sully the holy-machines to which he was bound, until the coming of Chaos saw him freed? Did he recognise the secret masters of his heart as unnameable things ran wild through the temple avenues beneath which he toiled? Did he kill the guardsman that once wore this uniform, pulling him apart with claw and tooth and rage, garbing himself in discarded flack armour and taking up his fallen grenade launcher that he might serve the Lords of the Abyss? Was it the cajoling of heretic priests that led him from the righteous path, or was it the calling of his own dark nature? What nightmares now drive him on, what whispering voices pursue him in his sleep, what rictus scream twists his features behind that mask?
Another day, another vicious tech-barbarian joins the ranks.
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