Saturday, 3 September 2011
In a warrior society such as the Space Wolves Chapter respect is a hard earned commodity and so when the blood claws hear the saga of Ulf Steinn as recounted by Ulrik they view make sure to avoid Ulf’s eye. With the exception of Erik himself Ulf is the most revered member of Morkai’s company. A disciplined member of the wolf guard and a peerless pack leader Ulf is an age old friend of Erik, a bond dating back to before they first entered the Chapter as part of the same blood claw pack. Over centuries of battle and warfare Ulf has learnt almost every trick in the book from how to gut a Tyranid to out witting an Eldar.
From the most arrogant blood claw to the oldest and most wizened long fang, all make way for Ulf when he strides the halls of the Fang such is the respect the company have for him. One blood claw was slow to learn this respect however.
Recently having returned to the Fang after a campaign reclaiming a world from the grasps of a Tyranid invasion the company were attending the returning feast held in their honour. One of the newly blooded blood claw packs were eating on a table next to that of Ulf’s pack and were getting rowdy on their ale. After an intense discussion amongst the youngsters one of them stood and approached Ulf’s table. The blood claws had quickly finished their roasted stag and had been glancing covetously at the vast slab of meat on Ulf’s table ever since. Stepping between the shoulders of two of the revered warriors the young wolf grasped the stag platter and began to lift it from the table. As the blood claw turned with the platter to walk away a voice spoke from the head of the table. ‘And what do you think you’re going to do with that, whelp?’ It was a low voice, quiet and calm and yet it carried clearly through the hall. The young wolf glanced casually over his shoulder and yelled back ‘what else do you think old man – eat it!!!’. This exclamation was followed by raucous laughter from the young pack, but the claw carrying the platter didn’t laugh instead he looked around to find a hand resting on his shoulder.
It belonged to a giant of a man stood behind him. White hair streamed over his huge shoulders and his barrel chest was at the height of the whelp’s neck. Morkai’s standard bearer, Olaf, was grinning whilst he looked down on the young wolf.
The whole hall fell into silence.
‘No you’re not whelp’ came the voice again.
Another member of the blood claw pack, with a crest of red hear running down the centre of his head, stood and shouted ‘and who are you to say so?!’
A knife flew across the hall from Ulf’s table, trimming the new comer’s hairstyle by several inches. There was a resounding ‘thunk’ as the knife hit the wood panel of the halls wall, point first, over fifty meters away. The claw with the recently altered hair cut sat down again.
‘Enough’ growled the low voice. The wolf which had thrown the knife grinned. ‘Feri, sit down and boy, do the sensible thing and bring that meat back.’
The giant called ‘Feri’ waved the blood claw past him indicating the table, a smile creeping across his face revealing huge fangs. Just as Feri turned his back there was movement at the blood claw table, two of them had leapt from their seats rushing Feri, but before they could get there, there was a blur between them and the huge wolf. Within two heart beats one blood claw lay on the floor of the hall, out cold, his skull cracked and another was sailing through the air over the heads of his pack.
The blood claws started, the scraping of benches showing their intent, but each and every one of them stopped at the sight that confronted them. 9 pairs of yellow eyes, 9 pairs on horribly long fangs, 9 scarred faces all regarding them calmly, waiting.
And Ulf, the symbol of the wolf guard on his shoulder stood at the head of the venerable, growling pack. The blood claws sat as one. There was a clapping sound from the end of the hall. Erik, sat a grim smile on his face, clapping nonchalantly. The Claws returned to their food and Ulf returned to his seat.
When everything had settled, Morkai winked to Ulf and received the slightest nod in return.
Resting on ones laurels, however, isn’t in Ulf repertoire. Tales by the fire side are one thing but seeing Ulf in battle is another. Mercilessly gunning down enemy warriors with calm double taps from his combi-melta, sending challengers skyward with a crackling powerfist or directing his pack to lay down a lethal hail of bolter fire is where Ulf is in his element.As a result of Ulf’s peerless leadership, his pack, although as old in years as many long fangs, are still strong enough in numbers to stride the field of battle as grey hunters. In honour of this battlefield experience Ulf’s pack wear both the red of a grey hunter and the white of a long fang on their shoulder pads.
Right folks, i'm quite proud of this pack - a couple of things to draw attention to. 1. the extended mags on some of the bolters, especially the drum mag on Ulf's combi-melta, 2. The Banner 3. Feri's twinned bolt pistols.
Hope you enjoy them
All the best
(Rhinos for the packs are coming in the next shipment from mars... mech is coming)