Suber
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I hadn't posted it over here as I didn't deemed it to be Oldhammer enough by the source of the materials, but on a second thought I guess it's Oldhammerish enough in its inspiration. The thing is that I first built a walker using the new Sentinel legs and different bits, starting with a serum vial I had used for the little Suberling...
It slowly grew like this...
I originally used a Kislevite, as you can see...
...but then a new idea struck my mind. Instead of a generic wasteland walker, I envisioned a knight errant. One in particular...
So I ended up with Don Quirixote of Manchae Prime riding on his tech-steed Rho-102 (or Rho-CII, if you read it in Roman numerals )
Somewhere in the Segementum Pacificus, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived during M.35, one of those who has an energy lance and ancient power field on a rack and keeps a clapped-out technag and a rusty cyberhound for racing [...]. Some claim that his family name was Quirixada, or Querexada, for there is a certain amount of disagreement among the authors who write of this matter, although [...] this does not matter very much to our story; in its telling there is absolutely no deviation from the truth.
And so, let it be said that this aforementioned gentleman spent his times of leisure - which meant most of the year - reading data slates of Space Marines, Inquisitors, Rogue Traders and chivalry with so much devotion and enthusiasm that he forgot almost completely about the hunt and even about the administration of his estate; and in his rash curiosity and folly he went so far as to sell his land, his ships, land speeders and servitors in order to buy data slates of chivalry to read, and he brought as many of them as he could into his house; and he thought none was as fine as those composed by the worthy Richard of Priestley, because the clarity of his prose and complexity of his language seemed to him more valuable than pearls [...].
With these words and phrases the poor gentleman lost his mind [and] became so caught up in reading that he spent his nights reading from dusk till dawn and his days reading from sunrise to sunset, and so with too little sleep and too much reading his brains dried up, causing him to lose his mind. His fantasy filled with everything he had read in his books, psychic powers as well as combats, battles, challenges, wounds, armour save, lascannons, Orks, Eldar, and he became so convinced in his imagination of the truth of all the countless grandiloquent inventions he read that for him no history in the world was truer.
So, in time, this Don Alonzo de Quirixada decided to clean some Imperial Guard armour of his ancestors, that had lain for ages forgotten in a corner, eaten with rust and covered with mould. He took his old techsteed Rho-102 (or Rho-CII, in Gothic numerals) and left his home in search of adventure, duels and undoing wrongs through the Galaxy...
Well. Once I had reached this point, the obvious path had to be taken. He needed his loyal Sancho Panzer. I started with a Kinder Egg.
Here you have the Dynamic Appliance for Plural Purposes and Leverage Endeavours (D.A.P.P.L.E.)
"What Gargants?" said Sancho Panzer.
"Those thou seest there," answered his master, "with the long arms, chainswords and guns, and some have them nearly two leagues long."
"Look, your worship," said Sancho; "what we see there are not Gargants but moisture vaporators, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by the wind make the engine go."
"It is easy to see," replied Don Quirixote, "that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are Ork Gargants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat."
So saying, he gave the spur to his steed RhoCII, heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were moisture vaporators and not Ork Gargants he was going to attack. He, however, was so positive they were Gargants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho, nor perceived, near as he was, what they were, but made at them shouting, "Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you."
OK. This was meant to be like this and that's all. But you know, a pal liked the theme that much that he asked me to build another sci-fi Don Quixote and... well, these things happen.
I've kept the basic ideas, but changed a few details, like adding pedals for the rider or specially the outside wiring, suggesting that the cooling systems are too old to work. My pal will be painting it, so I can expect quite a quality work.
I hope you find this nonsense funny at least
It slowly grew like this...
I originally used a Kislevite, as you can see...
...but then a new idea struck my mind. Instead of a generic wasteland walker, I envisioned a knight errant. One in particular...
So I ended up with Don Quirixote of Manchae Prime riding on his tech-steed Rho-102 (or Rho-CII, if you read it in Roman numerals )
Somewhere in the Segementum Pacificus, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived during M.35, one of those who has an energy lance and ancient power field on a rack and keeps a clapped-out technag and a rusty cyberhound for racing [...]. Some claim that his family name was Quirixada, or Querexada, for there is a certain amount of disagreement among the authors who write of this matter, although [...] this does not matter very much to our story; in its telling there is absolutely no deviation from the truth.
And so, let it be said that this aforementioned gentleman spent his times of leisure - which meant most of the year - reading data slates of Space Marines, Inquisitors, Rogue Traders and chivalry with so much devotion and enthusiasm that he forgot almost completely about the hunt and even about the administration of his estate; and in his rash curiosity and folly he went so far as to sell his land, his ships, land speeders and servitors in order to buy data slates of chivalry to read, and he brought as many of them as he could into his house; and he thought none was as fine as those composed by the worthy Richard of Priestley, because the clarity of his prose and complexity of his language seemed to him more valuable than pearls [...].
With these words and phrases the poor gentleman lost his mind [and] became so caught up in reading that he spent his nights reading from dusk till dawn and his days reading from sunrise to sunset, and so with too little sleep and too much reading his brains dried up, causing him to lose his mind. His fantasy filled with everything he had read in his books, psychic powers as well as combats, battles, challenges, wounds, armour save, lascannons, Orks, Eldar, and he became so convinced in his imagination of the truth of all the countless grandiloquent inventions he read that for him no history in the world was truer.
So, in time, this Don Alonzo de Quirixada decided to clean some Imperial Guard armour of his ancestors, that had lain for ages forgotten in a corner, eaten with rust and covered with mould. He took his old techsteed Rho-102 (or Rho-CII, in Gothic numerals) and left his home in search of adventure, duels and undoing wrongs through the Galaxy...
Well. Once I had reached this point, the obvious path had to be taken. He needed his loyal Sancho Panzer. I started with a Kinder Egg.
Here you have the Dynamic Appliance for Plural Purposes and Leverage Endeavours (D.A.P.P.L.E.)
"What Gargants?" said Sancho Panzer.
"Those thou seest there," answered his master, "with the long arms, chainswords and guns, and some have them nearly two leagues long."
"Look, your worship," said Sancho; "what we see there are not Gargants but moisture vaporators, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by the wind make the engine go."
"It is easy to see," replied Don Quirixote, "that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are Ork Gargants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat."
So saying, he gave the spur to his steed RhoCII, heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were moisture vaporators and not Ork Gargants he was going to attack. He, however, was so positive they were Gargants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho, nor perceived, near as he was, what they were, but made at them shouting, "Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you."
OK. This was meant to be like this and that's all. But you know, a pal liked the theme that much that he asked me to build another sci-fi Don Quixote and... well, these things happen.
I've kept the basic ideas, but changed a few details, like adding pedals for the rider or specially the outside wiring, suggesting that the cooling systems are too old to work. My pal will be painting it, so I can expect quite a quality work.
I hope you find this nonsense funny at least