The second post I ever made on this blog, way back in November 2013, concerned the two squads of cultists I was working on at the time. It’s slightly worrying to me then that it’s only now that I’ve finally got both squads finished. Never mind, at least I did it, and met my personal goal of making each unique from the others as well. They’re split over two squads; one armed for close combat – the Cult of Nug, and on for ranged combat – the Cult of Yeb. Here’s Yeb himself.
It’s been suggested to me that, with his Commissar’s coat that might be just what he is; a Commissar turned traitor. At first I thought this was a great idea but the more I considered it the less I was convinced. A Commissar must be utterly ruthless and unquestioning, a man without doubt or fear who’s resolve has only been strengthened by a lengthy training program and, undoubtedly, invasive indoctrination and brain-washing regimes. Such a man would not – indeed could not – simply turn to Chaos on a whim. Furthermore, if he did fall, the result would be a far more callous and terrible warrior than the mere leader of some rag-tag cultists.
Much more likely then that Yeb found his coat on the body of a dead Commissar, perhaps one who had stood, still firing heroically, as Kell and his terminators closed in. However this little train of thought did get me thinking about how interesting it would be to make a fully developed traitor Commissar, perhaps for the nascent traitor-guard army I keep considering. It would be interesting to look at how such a man could fall, and what would be created if he did. Watch this space!
Anyway, here’s the rest of the squad.
As I painted this next guy I started to realise that, with his deeply pitted eye-sockets, he was almost certainly blind. To me this puts a disturbing, and definitely Chaotic, twist on the model. I wonder what infraction led Imperial authorities to order this man’s eyes put out – or if he was born blind and shunned by the suspicious people with which he shared his hive? Either way the Dark Gods must have heard his whispered entreaties an granted him some alternative (I’m thinking infra-red – imagine him spotting approaching enemies by their body heat and gunning them down as they attempt to approach his holdout under cover of night or a dust storm. Ironically his sighted companions would be left firing blindly in the same direction – this is the sort of paradox that Tzeentch finds especially pleasing). Perhaps the process of transformation was so painful that he’s gagged himself to prevent him from, in desperation, asking the Gods for anything else.
And here’s a group-shot. Continuing the theme the next post should be the Dark Apostle that led them all down the twisted path into Chaos in the first place.