The Church of the Devoured

Since the day you were born, your lives have not been your own. You have been used, and abused, and cast down amongst the filth by those above. You are not a person. You are a cog in the machine. You are production output. You are a target. You are nothing. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your lives. They are as dust. Worse: you are food. Meat to be consumed by the machinery of this Empire of Man.  Our lives are eaten by the factories. Our sons and daughters are eaten by the conscription tithes. Even our dead are fed back to us. 

But it does not have to be that way. You can rise up, on the teeth of angels; rise up, born aloft by the love of the Allfather, the True Emperor, the Devourer of Mankind. The God King who cares for you, who will cherish you and who will empower you. And when there are enough of us, we shall rise from the ashes and dirt and rust and bring hungry vengeance upon those who have despised us. The devoured shall become the devourers! Rise up, my brothers! Rise up, my sisters! Let your old lives end and be born anew into glory!

-Pater Dol, preaching in the Underhive

Several of these you will recognise as the core of my Necromunda gang, built as stock Genestealer Cultists. For Kill Team I added a couple of Space Hulk Genestealers and some more cultists built from the Cawdor gang and cultist bits:

To get the best of the Cawdor kit - which has some great bits in it - you have to be willing to be brutal and start using the saw and knife quite forcefully. 

If I knock together a couple of infiltrators that now means I have two complete Kill Team Rosters. 

Myself and the eldest spent the afternoon building - me some Hobbit Goblins and he a cheap little Revel Star Wars kit I had kicking around for him.

The Church of the Twice Born

Since the day you were born, your lives have not been your own. You have been used, and abused, and cast down amongst the filth by those above. You are not a person. You are a cog in the machine. You are production output. You are a target. You are nothing. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your lives. They are as dust.

But it does not have to be that way. You can rise up, on the wings of angels; rise up, born aloft by the love of the Allfather, the True Emperor. The God King who cares for you, who will cherish you and who will empower you. And when there are enough of us, we shall rise from the ashes and dirt and rust and bring vengance upon those who have despised us. Rise up, my brothers! Rise up, my sisters! Let your old lives end and be born anew into glory!

-Pater Dol, preaching in the Underhive

Since the old days I've always loved the idea of Genestealer cults. Necromunda is just the perfect excuse to make some. I've had the box of miniatures for ages as parts have been used for all my conversions over the last year, so the total cost of this little gang was £0.

In terms of painting, I wanted to capture the oily blue grey of the Harkonnen from Lynch's Dune as seen here modeled by Sting:

Creating this colour was a relatively complex process: a grey green base with a transparent blue wash; edge highlighting of sea grey and then a blue glaze over the whole before a black wash to filter everything back down to the darker end of the tonal scale.

I think the hassle was worth it, though, as the Sons of the Twice Born look pretty much exactly how I'd always imagined them.