r/WhiteScars40K

Remember to revisit earlier installments.

Yamnin Volunteers : https://www.reddit.com/r/TheAstraMilitarum/s/hYifF8YLCx
Yamnin Dragon Fortress Guard : https://www.reddit.com/r/TheAstraMilitarum/s/XEyopRIEaH
Yamnin Yamnin Ogryn Grenadiers : https://www.reddit.com/r/ImaginaryWarhammer/s/MxAzbPxlgM
Yamnin Anti-Materiel Team : https://www.reddit.com/r/TheAstraMilitarum/s/rNJwC4Zl1g

"When the seas of golden grain caught fire, the distant horizon bled an ominous violet-black.

I tightened my grip on the "Zarona Mk.IIa Revolver-Spear (Yamnin Ver.)", the harsh clatter of its mechanical speed-loader matrix echoing against the heavy air. The plasteel buckler strapped to my left arm was jammed hard into the plasteel-reinforced embrasure on the second floor of our Tulou, its cold vibrations traveling through my arm straight to my chest. This ancestral earthen fortress, built by our forefathers with three-meter-thick rammed earth and layered plasteel inserts, was our last line of defense.

In the adjacent firing port stood my younger sister. She had been holding this line inside the Tulou for a full week now, her forehead streak-stained with soot and sweat, yet her eyes remained locked on the golden wheat fields that had fed us our whole lives. Now, there was no wind across that endless ocean of grain—only twisted, horned World Eaters Khorne Berserkers and wretched beasts warped by Warp-plagues, trampling the charred stalks as they surged toward our clan's stronghold in a relentless tide. It was the exact nightmare described in the ancient bedtime lore passed down from our ancestors, now tearing its way directly into reality.

"Steady your breathing! Hold your fire until they hit a hundred paces!"

The old village chief—now serving as our squad leader and retired Yamnin Volunteer veteran—pased behind us with heavy, measured steps. His battered Astra Militarum flak armor was scarred from past campaigns, his right hand resting steadily on the hilt of his sabre. His voice was as rough and grounded as sandpaper:

"Behind us, this Tulou holds our ancestors and our children! Yamnin has no retreat! If the traitors of Chaos want to pass, they'll have to step over our corpses first!"

Panic bit at my stomach like a cold serpent. The distant sky was torn apart by the crimson flashes of bolter shells, and the horrifying roars of the approaching horde rattled our eardrums. But as the veteran's roar reverberated through the hall, and as the spear-mounted blades of over a hundred fellow clansmen flickered in unison, that deep-seated terror crystallized into sheer, unyielding desperation.

"FIRE!"

The revolver barrels erupted in blinding muzzle flashes, their thunderous cracks echoing inside the central courtyard. Bullets slammed against the heavy power armor of the Berserkers with deafening ricochets, harmlessly bouncing off for the most part; only a rare few managed to penetrate a gap in the armor, doing nothing to slow the chaotic charge slamming against our plasteel gate. The massive hinges groaned in protest, and the entire centuries-old Tulou shuddered to its core.

Suddenly, a world-shattering explosion swallowed everything. Under heavy enemy artillery fire, the outer wall shattered in an instant. A brutal shockwave sent me, along with the collapsing masonry and my kin standing nearby, flying into the air!

My vision blurred beneath a shroud of falling earth and debris. Through the ringing in my ears and blinding pain, I faintly heard the veteran commander bellowing his final, triumphant roar:

"BRACE BAYONETS! ENGAGE AT CLOSE QUARTERS! FOR YAMNIN! FOR CHOGORIS! FOR THE EMPEROR!"

I don't know how much time had passed when the pungent odor of antiseptics and burnt flesh woke me.

I struggled to open my eyes. A stark, unfamiliar white ceiling filled my view—I was inside a field hospital at the rear Barbican Gateways. All around me lay maimed, groaning casualties, their makeshift steel beds smeared with blood.

I tried to push myself up, turning my stiff neck to scan the room. Amidst the sea of critically wounded soldiers and frantic field medics... where were my family? My sister, the old squad leader, the rest of our clan from the Tulou... where are they?"

Slowwwwly working my way through a Storm Lords kill team. I just love how these guys look and I’m super happy with how that checkered knee turned out.

Snipers up next! Any tips would be appreciated!

White is hard, is anyone else using Army Painter Ivory White? It is a great colour but it takes a lot of coats and it’s hard to avoid brush marks. I picked up a can of Wraithbone spray primer hopefully that helps on the next guys.

I posted my 2hite Scars Leadership the other day, but didnt even realized I used my non kitbashed Chappy. Here he is in all his glory. C&C always welcome.

Seen all the bikers/conversions today it felt like a sign

Finally got around to painting my 1k list. Just went with a reverse white scars scheme I'm calling the red scars

Figured out the base coat! A mix of 3 drops blinding light and two drops medium!

First time painting white scars spent the last 3 years painting deathguard just looking for some constructive criticism greatly appreciate it!!

C&C Welcome!

Last intercessor for my 5 man squad. Super proud of how this guy turned out