#chaptermaster

[therightrighthand]

So, after being pretty hooked on Space Marine 2, I figured it would be fun to make a Seraphim Order Astartes based on one of the multiplayer classes, and that quickly turned into another 'Red can't stop at a sketch'. So now we have their Chapter Master.

-- Find my Discord and other sites: linktr.ee/The_red_right_hand Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character  Art © The-Red-Right-Hand

[orniris]

My website: Orniris.com

[zombie-techpriest]

[valhallasoutlaw]

Ajax's bird and her ugly ass groom

Been really burnt out, so please enjoy some sketches. These are Angel's Owls, also called Butcher Birds, Blood Owls, or White Death, usually referring to the females

[primestartes]

Chaptermaster Vun, Master Regent of the Verminus Imperium and Lord of the Rattus Astartes

My beautiful ratty child, I haven't forgotten about you. You will rise again. The Horned Emperor bless.

[deimos-awaits]

Dreams of the Chaptermaster

My first little writing from Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita

Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita did not know where he was. This deeply concerned the Chaptermaster of the Ironsong, in a way the few other things did. He almost always knew at the very least where he was or what made his surroundings. To be so unprepared and unknowing of either was troubling. He was not wearing his armor that much he was sure of. The comfortable feeling of tons of ceramite was gone from his chest. It made them feel rather light and airy. The area around them was light and fragrant. Though covered in such a deep smoke or mist that it was hard to tell where anything was really. It reminded him of one of the poetdens on his homeworld of Astraea, at least on the side that devoted itself to the arts.

It took less than a minute for him to take stock of himself. He seemed to be wearing the robes and tunics common on the more wealthy parts of Astraea. He would rather have been in one of the old jumpsuits he had long grown accustomed to wearing. Further he wished that he had a mechandrite harness or any of his armor. Artificer Siderénia felt naked without it, especially without any knowledge exactly of where they were. The last thing that he could remember was celebrating a successful campaign against an eldar craftworld force with the Knightly House of Phobos and the First Deimos Explorator Fleet. The celebration was a subbed event, the heads of the three organizations, themself representing the Ironsong Chapter of Astartes, though he did indulge in specially acquired Fenrisian Ale. Maybe that was the mistake, and the ale imbibed by the sons of Russ. Warpcraft was his second supposition as to what was occurring though he was hoping that wasn't the case. The third most likely situation was he was dreaming.

Artificer Siderénia took one more moment to examine the air around him. It resembled the smoke clouds more often found on the poetdens of Astraea though unlike there, where a simple wave of the hand would result in more clear air with the incense brushing away and the ability to see whatever poet was crooning against the sound of brasswind instruments. He strode forward, though they were unable to out which direction they had initially started facing. Siderénia was confident enough though that the ground beneath was made of marble or some other similar stone. He bent down to feel it and it was as smooth and cold as they would otherwise expect. The smooth surface indicated some form of polishing and the as of yet unidentified light source seemed to confirm it was white stone with gold veining. Artificer Siderénia could Even see his own well kept beard and violet eyes in the reflection from the stone.It felt truly like he was in one of the more gaudy Emperor forsaken poetden. Upon recalling the simple fact about his homeworld’s musical traditions, a soft melody began to play in the air.

It sounded wrong, as if there was a faint hint of static with what was normally a live performance. The melody itself was strange and Artificer Siderénia did his best to try to appraise it before approaching. It seemed to be a strange melange of the work songs of his youth and the more restful ballads of a poetden though he could not make out any district words that either might have. He was put on high alert no matter where he was it was trying to put him at ease and failing.

If only he had his Omnissian power axe.

He was not often given to strong emotions, moderation and balance was after all key to his chapter's survival and thriving but he yearned for it now in this strange place. If this was the result of any of the Magi of Deimos they would learn why to never do this again. With little emotion visible he began to move towards whatever source of the music he could find. Damn Magos Aleph-Gimmel Bellerov-2.0 and her Fenrisian ale for addling their head enough they could not remember where they were. With a simple breath he moved forward, less a man moving forward but a rumbling mountain of steel, flesh, and ceramite moving forward in thundering footsteps. He never was one for subtly though there was an itching in the back of his head that wished that was more the case.

Artificer Siderénia kept walking until the smoke began to clear and his surroundings seemed to take a more solid form. The room they found themselves in was a similar amalgamation of all the poetdens he had ever been in. There was a stage at the edge of his vision where there was a youth of indeterminate gender - not uncommon on Astraea - crooning into a microphone hanging from the ceiling, tables spread out with small arrangements of flowers on them, gilded seats and incense burning everywhere. The song that youth with light hair and even paler skin was crooning was strangely difficult to focus on. There was also no band visible behind them to give the backing music. Dream or warpcraft Siderénia decided. Perhaps both. He was leaning towards dream given how most of the seats and tables present seemed suited to accommodate a man of his size and build and although that was not uncommon on Astraea due to it being his chapters homeworld but all of them being his size or larger? Strange.

He began to walk towards the youth on the stage. The fact that the youth either did not notice him despite seemingly being the only other person in the room or did not care that a nine foot tall transhuman was approaching was troubling. It was further troubling that the youth only had one breast whose swell was visible under their tunic. Warpcraft of what flavor was quickly becoming obvious to him.

Could he use any of the chairs here as a welcome? Were the chairs also similarly tainted? What would he have to do in order to escape this place? His thoughts began to march through his head in ordered fashion trying to discern exactly how to leave this warp spawned nightmare. The Ruinous Powers would not have him.

Siderénia was so focused on that he didn't notice at first the clapping congratulating the Youth's latest unintelligible song. The Youth took a bow before returning to croon in some language that was definitely no form of Gothic Siderénia had ever heard. He turned to see the source and perhaps find any other person here to find a giant of a man even by the standards of the Astartes. He has the same white hair as Siderénia, like the marbled floor and matching violet eyes. Siderénia’s hearts felt as if they had just stopped.

He yearned once more that he had his power axe.

It was impossible to deny who was sitting in front of him and Siderénia would not even begin to attempt to. The other man laughed. The laugh was far similar to the music playing. It was a thousand desires and dreams fulfilled all at once, and ten thousand desires left aching.

A few moments passed between them again with the smell of incense and the crooning threatening to overtake all of the senses. Siderénia simply stared, a gaze that in most cases would have caused any member of the Ironsong Chapter to shrink. The other person simply laughed again. “Hello darling. Are you enjoying the performance?”

Artificer Siderénia simply stared over more at the man begging the Emperor to be wrong about who this was.

“Well. Aren't you going to say something?” The other figure asked as if the few seconds, maybe even a minute, if that at most, of silence had begun already to bore him. The voice was similar enough to the laughing that it made him want to talk and respond. It was oozing with joy.

“No.”

The other man's broad smile seemed to twitch for a second. “Oh come on, Siderénia, you know you brought yourself here, won't you as least ask who I am? This is modeled after your homeworld after all.”

Siderénia glanced at the crooning Youth. Their performance though still entirely musical had begun to verge into a style that would have never been accepted on Astraea, Even given their relatively progressive standards. He looked back at the figure lounging in front of him. The tunic the other was wearing seemed to be made out of snake skin. “What would you have me say Fulgrim, snake, Gorgonbane?”

The Primarch of the Third Legion's face, Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita own Primarch, laughed again though there was no mirth this time. “First Rylanor, now you. Oh darling, darling. " Fulgrim tuted at him as if he was a child. "When I heard the little whispers the Imperium had decided to make a new chapter with my geneseed I just had to watch you know. It was so fascinating to watch you all grow.”

Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita stood as impassively and emotionless as any proud son of Ferrus Manus would. His chapter claimed their descent from the Gorgon. Now would be no different. “I hope you are disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Oh my dear son, Siderénia, I'm far from it. Your precious Ironsong has been an exemplary finishing force! And while the art you make tends to be more subdued, that can be fixed in time! I'm sure I can find a place for all mechanists.”

“No.” the world around Siderénia began to shudder and shake. It was like a hololith losing connection.

“No? Again that's really quite Dornian or even rather like… you haven't even heard my offer.”

“Snake, I want nothing of what you offer me.” Siderénia Teleiótita count feel the tug within him to submit to his primarch and do whatever the demon and but the chaptermaster held firm.

“I am your father,” Fulgrim stood now white hair cascading down in an impossibly beautiful wave. “I know what you have gotten up to with those Magi-”

Siderénia Teleiótita, against his better judgment, stepped forward and grabbed a chair as he did so. It was no Omnissian axe but it would have to do. “You are not my father. He is buried in Astraea’s soil, and though you are my primarch my allegiance is to the Emperor and Ferrus Manus.”

Fulgrim’s languid and easy attitude had swung towards anger and frustration. The entire poetden seemed to flicker into static. “I do not know by what Warpcraft you think you can escape but you will see,” and the human form he was talking fell away to reveal the demon prince beneath. Writhing scales and four arms reaching towards the all too human history master. “You are my children, you are not his!” one of Fulgrim's claws scratched his chin.

The Youth began to scramble and run off of the stage as the dream world was shaking.

Siderénia Teleiótita had no idea what Warpcraft was happening either. As far as he was aware no one even remotely close to them had access to warpcraft. He swung the chair at the daemon primarch ready to fight to his last here.

Then his eyes shot open.

Siderénia Teleiótita’s hearts were pounding and he was covered in sweat.

A familiar, though a tad forgettable Magos of Deimos, loomed over him. “Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita! Are you alright? Your heart beats were elevated, I was simply coming to ask for your presence at a meeting with the local planetary governor.”

Artificer Siderénia Teleiótita simply looked up at the Magos Tsephor-10.54 and attributed the headache to hangover as that dream faded almost instantly from memory. The rather fat techpriest had the strange ability to be almost forgettable while also unnerving. “I am fine. Aid me in putting on my armor and I will be there promptly.”

Siderénia Teleiótita did not notice the new scar on his chin.

[krakenburger]

(house Goliath proxy gang. Will have 1 sgt.[forge tyrant] 1 scout Sgt [forge boss] 2 scouts [bruisers])

Sgt Arizona. Helt; of the Nexus Rangers

Or also called "space riders"

They are a Ultima founding "successer chapter" of the imperial fists. (Actual geneseed is of the alpha legion)

Most known for being paid mercenaries for nobles, inquisition and rogue traders

They are fleet based. Recruiting from worlds with mostly Arid desert biomes, Salt flats, radioactive wastelands etc.

(Current amount of Marines is 600-750)

Current activity is routing out specific outlaws and mutants in necromunda and sending 10 marine strong entourages to protect vip clientele.

Current chaptermaster is Rattlesnake Jake. Fastest draw this side the universe.

[definitelynotalpharius]

One week before final crusade missions

---//Astropathic-Transmission//---

---//Origin: Planetary Governer Guyus Luther Goruros Bahara VII//---

As previously expected, the armies of the plague god and the inquisition have moved further towards the higher levels of the hive. Our defenders have bought us enough time to evacuate the remaining civilians, and the trensfer of all Emperor blessed citizens will comence shortly.

The Inquisition's pet xenos have cleared the underhive, and are set to pry deeper into the mines. And the neverborn seek to cause a larger lost of life. The Lord of Blood, Chaptermaster Vigilan has been ordered to secure the evacuation of the Upperhive, as The Lord Regent decends into the Underhive with a contingent of the Heralds of the Chalice chapter and his own honour guard. "A decisive blow, and a final ambush," he called it.

Unfortunately, the our once glorious hive may be beyond saving. If the inquisition does not retire from the fighting, I am prepared to authorize a orbital clensing. This is most likely my last transmission.

The Emperor protects.

---//Astropathic-Transmission End//---

[luwupercal]

rotating in my mind that idea of an entire chapter of space marines solely dedicated to chaptermaster exploding a planet with a button because they would have so rituals about it. like they'd construct elaborate pseudo philosophical ornamentation on the push of a button and theyd all have themed names and armor and whatever and theyd lift weights while talking to each other about pressing the button in the gym and i have no words to explain this but its so vivid in my mind. i love warhammer its fucking stupid this needs to exist and we have to do a 20 book series of work comedys on these idiots

[soraka-in-warhammer40k]

Character Gallery Part 2: Our non-astartes support cast!

Again I must thank @rowscara for putting with me and all these designs, but once again I have amassed enough of them for collection post! If you wish to see the three "main characters" of Tepidus Tempestus click here.

Starting off with the highest rank, Lord Castellan Dederik Dunst, the captain of the ship and highest non-astartes authority who due to legal complications cannot be called Captain or Admiral. The rank of Lord Castellan, to which he was promptly appointed by the Chaptermaster as in the Imperial system allows it for a legal loophole including the - supposedly - temporary nature of such rank as well as its lack of specification.

Originally from the Astra Militarum and left to die on a volcanic deathworld after an imperial screw-up. After months of trying to survive the toxic ashen atmosphere and attempting to get an emergency signal out, the Tepidus Tempestus stumbled over them by sheer accident involving several navigators and what would later prohibit the use of caffeine-like stimulants by them for several years.

Out of the dozen or so that were left, he is the only one who did not succumb to the aftereffects. His lungs are severely fucked however, which has him constantly smoking a very specific herbal mix to combat the symptoms. Dunst is probably one of the most loyal to the chapter as he literally owes his life to them - although this loyality does explicitly not extend to Astra Militarum high command for obvious reasons.

It should be noted that he has a slight hoarding problem in that every single console, chair, and work-station around whatever place he works has several lasguns, explosives, rations and fortification materials stowed inside. The fact that he did all that in secret has gotten him into some trouble with the Chaptermaster when it came out.

Following the highest authority on the bridge, here's the absolute tyrant of the machine room, Engine Master Angela Kirrspatt - archenemy of tech priest Daimos-5 (self-proclaimed), and - barring some technicalities - the oldest human on the ship. She's mostly held together by spite and devotion to the vessel - this devotion goes to the point that she has an actual Tech Priest Killcount.

In her younger years she had observed the incompetence of Daimos-5's predecessors that would have almost blown the ship into pieces as well as the disregard the tech priests had for the human workforce, and led a worker's rebellion in response. Chaptermaster Auris was so impressed by her organisational skills as well as pulling it off while keeping all systems running without issue that he promptly promoted her - and politely overlooked the frozen remains of shattered flesh and steel chained to the coolant pipes.

Rising further in the ranks during her service she, in a rather unusual turn of events, became the inofficial vice-captain of the 3rd Astartes Company (Techmarine Specialists). She was the assistant to their Captain Hephaton, but the man is an elusive hermit busy with his work and avoiding other people. Eventually he started sending her out to all the meetings he didn't give a shit about (which was nearly all of them), and so it was established.

The fact that Daimos-5 is still alive and even gets some liberties within her domain goes to show how skilled he is, and that she - even if only begrudingly - respects him. His expertise is Gellar Field tech and the Warpdrive in general, but all the tech surrounding it is her domain. Curiously, Kirrspatt and Dunst were a thing once, 70 years back or so. The lone survivor clinging to life and the barsh mechanic girl... although nowadays they bond mostly by being weird cranky old people.

Often seen with personal Astartes guards of the 3rd, although it is not sure if they are guarding her from other people, or other people from them.

From Engineering back to the bridge here's Communications Officer Liberta - being a lingusitical genius that somehow speaks every concievable dialect of high and low gothic at the young age of "officially" 35 terran years, her job is mostly tuning in to the Vox-frequencies and whatever else goes around that is not an astropathic transmission.

Aside from her foul mood and the - barely concealed undercity gang-tattoos - there's actually not much known about her. In fact there is so little known, that very specific events in the story led to some... complications. Her files regarding her past before joining were clean. TOO clean... but giving away more would spoilers. However the Navigators and Astropaths on the vessel do not like her, but that might be because she sometimes takes some of their drug stashes.

Apparently Liberta has a substance tolerance that - for some of them - goes beyond that of even Astartes, but mostly uses those so she can work longer and harder. Just like Chaptermaster Auris this is yet another case that makes Chief Apothecarius Timidus scream "BY THE THRONE STOP WORKING YOUR BODY IS LITERALLY FALLING APART HAVE SOME REST!"

Mostly gets away with her foul attitude because of extreme competence paired with Dunst and Auris having somewhat of a soft spot for her.

And finally, last but not least for this post, let's hear it for out Medical Ogryn, Nurse Narcosis, Apothecarius Timidus' favourite assistant. As it turns out when you have patients the size and weight of Astartes, you might need someone even bigger and stronger to move them around.

Orginally from the weapons deck, when a mishandlung of ammunition led to many people being injuried, he carried them all to the apothecarium. Then after sticking around and insiting to help, Timidus found use for him.

Although Narcosis started out as dumb as they come, unlike most Ogryn in the Imperium he had something entirely unique: a teacher with the patience of centuries. Timidus was pleased to have an assistant who did EXACTLY what he was told without question or hesitation, assuming Narcosis could understand the concept.

So it started off simple, with "carry this", "hold that", "look scary so the gawkers piss off", and eventually over many, many years the orders became more and more complex ("spray this on the cut" - "put on that bandaid"). While it takes a while to get new knowledge into that massive skull, once it actually is in there, it STAYS there.

Can now perform simple surgery if necessary, but really does not like working on non-astartes. Regular humans are so fragile and it makes him very, VERY nervous.

[ratchaptermaster]

The armour of his station hissed and crackled. Each joint whined and groaned. His power cracked the earth under his boots. The rats scattered and looked away in envious awe and rightful fear. The sparks and screaming woes of his warpstone ebbed with the unquestionable favour of the Great Horned Emperor. His talons curled and tri-barreled weapon spun. 

The power-humming glaives of the Stormvermin drumming on the ground in rhythm, a muscle memory of their glory long-taken as the Chaptermaster lumbered through their procession with the chaos of war whirling around them like a tempest of fire and metal. His horns great and imposing, even when capped down to properly fit with his masterfully crafted pattern of Terminator armour. His Hellsword, inert, but growled in daemonic hunger with its sleep. 

Its spirit spoke to him in his sleep. Blood. Skulls. It needed blood and skulls. Its rage was burning in his skull, it was his partner of fate and desire. The Chaptermaster demanded the wine of his enemies’ veins and their skulls to decorate his throne. Their souls to be the next harvest of warpstone. Their bodies to be his feast. The Hunger was unimaginable yet rage kept its sustenance. 

“Blood and Bones.” His voice seethed with baring teeth as he looked to a warlord of the Red Corsairs that have foolishly chosen this world to reap the Chaptermaster’s bounty. He can not allow it. He will not allow it. This world is tribute to only One and He is here to claim it. 

With a swell of chest, the Master of the Rattus Astartes screamed a cry that howled into the air and unleashed his rage into a infectious fire that claimed his followers. They all felt his blood-red fury and he led the speartip of teeth, blade, and claws. The Vermintide devoured all it washed over and still - it wanted more.

[morkarr]

commission: Yaebets from the Soul of Damnation

[the-eternal-crusader]

@guido_hockmann has submitted #highmarshalhelbrecht for our #2022btgroupchampion. If you want to take part. Join our group:- https://www.facebook.com/groups/EternalCrusade/ #blacktemplars #40k #modelpainting #blacktemplars_40k #warhammer #spacemarine #citadel #helbrecht #gamesworkshop #eternalcrusader #primaris #chaptermaster #gw #paintingwarhammer #warhammercommunity (at The Eternal Crusader) https://www.instagram.com/p/ChJ4N9LNbhD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[zombie-techpriest]

Marneus Calgar X Luis Dante  Two Chaptermasters Deeply in Love XD  Because I can XD

[valhallasoutlaw]

Chaptermaster Ajax Alegheri and Commander Delphine Satriana have some Fun with Drukhari Wych gladiators

[knightlightminiatures]

Man this base is big. Especially for a chapter master so smoll.