February is, as I understand it, always a tough month for OWAC comrades. Sunlight is just starting to extend into the evening here in the UK, but it’s still cold and dreary. It’s also the shortest of months, meaning our quota is required even sooner
I’ve also got a bunch of birthday celebrations on the books (including a Lord of the Rings Extended Edition marathon) meaning I have even less time to paint up a squad.
So, what were my options if I wanted to avoid the Field of Bones? Well, paint up a single, massive, stomping monster, of course! Evil machinery is on the rise!
(Note: for best results, please listen to this radical doom metal track while reading this post.)
The classic Perry-sculpted Rogue Trader Chaos Dreadnought is just a brilliant model; unique in Warhammer history, and so radically weird that it almost escapes the general design language of the setting. If you’d never studied your Warhammer history and never seen the original Space Marine Dreadnought - with its stumpy legs, pot belly and grinning face - you’d never really understand where this mutated monstrosity came from (nor where the modern Contemptor originated, either).
I’m so happy to have a specimen of this model in my collection, kindly donated by my mate and semi-regular Dungeon Master Tom. Thanks Tom. I promise we will actually play an TTRPG session soon.
The first and major challenge (after sticking the damn thing together) was figuring out what was what. This model is just so riddled with weird, mushy, hand-sculpted details that it can be a headache trying to figure out what colour should go where. Cable management is clearly not a priority in the hellforges of the Warp.
With a colour scheme for my renegade troopers as a guide, I began by plotting out which parts of the model were trim, which were black armour and which were cables. One quick, messy basecoat on each of these parts later, and it was starting to make a lot more sense.
But I quickly ran into another issue. I had three main colours on my troopers: pink, deep blue, and an emerald-like teal. But this Dreadnought had so many different types of cables, ribs and ridges, three colours just wasn’t going to cut it. After all, Chaos mechanics would have to colour code their wiring just like we do in order to conduct repairs. Right? I imagine working on a screaming, daemon-possessed metallic hellbeast would be hard enough without having to check the wiring diagram every two minutes.
Of course, I couldn’t just go painting wires red, yellow and orange. That would look far too gaudy, even for the servants of Slaanesh. Instead, I went for variations on a theme: a variety of greens and green-adjacent blues. I even decided that the smooth, blue-grey tubes would be painted with hazard stripes, just to scratch that particular itch.
I think this idea worked pretty well in practice. I managed to add some much needed variety to the mass of tubes and cables, while maintaining the general integrity of my cool-toned scheme.
One of the braver decisions was to paint the glowing plasma cannon and associated wires a much warmer, yellowish green. The plasma itself was given a healthy coat of fluro paints to make it really glow. This isn’t entirely without precedent in my army so far, as I’ve been using it for the glowing helmet lenses of my renegades. But it is a wild colour, for sure.
I reckon this was also the correct call in the end. I’m quite happy with the subtle contrast in colour warmth, and may apply this colour to other elements in the army down the line.
Sure, now my Dreadnought looks like the physical embodiment of an evil energy drink. But I feel like that’s kind of the point with Slaaneshi characters.
I was inspired by the work of Zdzisław Beksiński in painting the face plate, creepy engine block and similar elements. These stood out to me as the perfect place to really drive home the biomechanical nature of this monster, and so I painted them as if they were a slightly umber-tinged, mouldy bone.
Under all that ceramite armor and those hydraulic systems is a living, groaning creature of hell-spawned flesh. Isn’t that so wholesome?!
Finally, the eyeball poking out from the engine block was inspired by the recent reimagining of this sculpt by @kc.miniart. This “embiggened” version of my dumpy little Dread is just so beautifully rendered. It captures the original vibe so well, while improving on it in many areas. I particularly like how leggy it is.
Alright, I reckon that’s enough waffling about colours now. I’m stoked to be adding this monster to my list (updated for February below). Now he just needs his requisite Techmarine handler - coming next month… Hopefully!
Oh, I also fancied writing up a little bit of flavour text this month. Maybe I’ll continue this for the rest of the challenge. You know, cause I don’t have enough to do already!
Army list (as of February):
Caligulus the Hierophant
Chaplain on Steed of Slaanesh
Minor Hero, Hallucinogeic Grenades,
Steed of Slaaanesh, Furry
60
Dio Saevus
Possessee, host of a Daemonette
Minor Hero, Standard Equipment
Tentactles, Horns, Bestial Face, Powerful Legs, Agility, Massive Intellect
280
Neadalus Reborn
Chaos Dreadnought
Heavy Plasma Gun, Claw
150
(This points value is based on WD146 - a Furibundus Dreadnought in Realm of Chaos is actually 280, though armed differently)
6 Daemonettes
Tentacles, Bestial Face, Prehensile Tails, Razor-Sharp Claws, Vividly Coloured Skin, Bulbous Eyes
600
Sgt. Franciscus Fereter
Tactical Marine Sergeant
Razor-Sharp Claw, Bulbous Eyes
26
Total points
1,116
+++
The voidsmen rounded another corner, fingers on the triggers of their lasguns. Each corridor in the hulk had been stranger than the last. At first, they had boarded into a derelict vessel, rusting and sparking and barely holding its artificial atmosphere. Then, as they ventured deeper and deeper into the conglomeration of shipwrecks, each room seemed more and more intact, in-use… inhabited.
Around them now hung banners, not of rough hessian like those created by hulk-dwelling Orks, but of silk and velvet. They displayed lurid designs that hurt the eye as much as they stirred the blood. Votive candles flickered, casting a violet glow throughout the corridor. The air stunk with the smell of incense that penetrated even rebreathers.
“Do you hear that?” Gallow asked the squad, his vox-comms hissing with interference.
There was a clanging of metal, a whirring of saws and the familiar digital chittering of servitors up ahead.
“At the ready. Activity ahead.”
The squad took tentative steps into the largest room yet, hearts pounding in ears. The colossal hall was clearly once the engine bay of a great space-faring vessel, perhaps millenia old. Cables draped from the vaulted ceiling, humming with barely contained energy. The voidsmen trained their lasguns upwards as spider-legged servitors crawled throughout the electrical rigging. The mindless creatures seemed unphased by the unwelcome visitors.
“Eyes at four, men. Target sighted.” Gallow barked into the vox. He swore he could hear an echo of his voice… whispering.
The voidsmen aimed their weapons and saw in their sights a hulking, half-mechanical form. The creature busied itself in a humongous slab of machinery, directing the servo-arm on its back as deftly as a painter may wield a brush. It was clearly once a man this creature. No, something more: a Space Marine. But now it was hunched, twisted, something far worse than an Angel of Death.
“What’s your word, sergeant?” Barreck asked Gallow. “Do we try to raise?”
Gallow didn’t respond. He was transfixed, terrified. They hadn’t expected to discover humans on the hulk, let alone Space Marines. He was not prepared.
“Welcome, fleshy ones,” came a voice over comms, unbidden, shockingly loud. “My, my. What flesh you have brought me and my brother!”
The room fell silent as the servitors stopped their work. Each half-human head turned to face the boarding party. A hundred cyborg eyes fixed them to the spot, but only one mind comprehended. The puppet master laughed as he turned to face the voidsmen.
“It is wonderful timing. My brother is just ready to wake from his long slumber. And he will be ever so hungry.”
The air was suddenly filled with the hissing of pistons and a great mechanical rumbling. Something screamed a terrible scream, one that shook the entire engine bay.
“Fire, men! By the throne, fire!” Gallow shouted.
The room flashed with laser blasts as if a lightning storm had arrived. But their target seemed unphased. The twisted Space Marine moved casually to a blinking panel, lasgun blasts singeing its armour. And, with a gloved hand, it pulled back a lever.
The floor shook again as steam vented furiously from the slab. Before the horrified voidsmen, a shape began to rise - a bulbous, beetle-like, robotic shape, energy crackling off the surface of its iron plates. The shape groaned hideously, and each mortal man loosened his grip on his gun. Some of their bowels.
Now it was released; this monstrous shape, this abomination of metal and bone and sinew. Far swifter than something so large should have moved, it took ten leaping steps. With a claw bigger than a man, it snapped a voidsmen in half, before swinging violently into another. The mere mortal was pulverised in his space suit.
“Fall back!” Gallow shouted to the remaining voidsmen.
Barreck didn’t need to be told. He trained his gun, hopelessly, on the mechanical monstrosity as it bore down towards Gallow and himself. Through his sight, he saw a face plate like a human skull, wet with red oil, as if something freshly born. The black pits of its eyes were hungry, angry, scared.
Barreck knew his lasgun battery was running dry. He simply flung his gun at the beast as it crushed Gallow underfoot. His voidsmaster popped like a tube of dental paste.
The lone voidsman ran to the corridors, praying that darkness might protect him. He could barely think as he scrambled against the walls, struggling to find his way forward, his way out. He desperately sucked in air, as if he were drowning, but only inhaled more of the noxious incense.
Barreck’s heavy void-sealed boot caught on something, and he felt himself go over. As he landed with a thud, cushioned slightly by the low gravity, he listened for any sign of life. Or pursuit.
His vox comms were silent, his squad gone in an instant. As Barreck scrambled upwards, pulling himself up and around a corner, he heard much heavier footsteps than his own. The corridor reverberated with the weight of them. Clanking metal, hissing pistons, a heart-wrenching, mechanical throbbing that mimicked a human voice. Barreck couldn’t decide if it sounded more like crying or laughter.
As his chest constricted and his suit’s machine spirit flashed warnings, he felt the footsteps draw close. Mere metres away, a giant claw snapped closed. The violet candles guttered out.
Darkness fell throughout the hulk.
+++
Finally, I can’t forget the tribute for this year’s challenge. Here’s one of the Emperor’s finest, soon to be at home in a Rogue Trader collection. I painted him in my favourite old-school Dark Angels scheme, which I hope is suitable! Feel free to rebase as required.
