Prospero Burns\A Thousand Sons

[Ош]

Разве что другое издательство возьмется.

Нет худа без добра.

У меня скорость чтения выросла на пару страниц в час уже :)

Превозмогай и однажды ты скажешь спасибо ГВ за свободный английский.

[Летающий Свин]

Жду не дождусь книги про сынков. Ох, хоть бы вопрос с переводами решился к тому времени, а то читать через комп ох как напряжно :О

Но главное - таки читаешь :)

[WaRLoKK]

Но главное - таки читаешь

Ога, приходится. Ересь читал через комп. Лживых Богов за день прочел)) Сынков тем более)))

Разве что другое издательство возьмется

Главное чтобы перевод у другого издательства был нормальный. А то почитал я русский рульбук - это просто ппц с названиями.

[Dr Darog]

 i 
Уведомление:

От темы не отклоняемся)

[fizik]

Очень хотелось бы почитать короткие аннотации на русском языке по опубликованным интервью с Мак Ниллом :(

Английский немного слабоват,может кто возьметься?

Изменено 28 мая, 2009 пользователем fizik

[Dr Darog]

На неделе выложу спойлер войны за Просперо из Хорус Ереси Коллектор виженс сюжет не должен принципиально отличатся

[Alfаrius]

На неделе выложу спойлер войны за Просперо из Хорус Ереси Коллектор виженс сюжет не должен принципиально отличатся

Читали его уже. :)

[Dr Darog]

Читали его уже. :)

Ну, не все же, такие неленивые, как мы =)

Изменено 31 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Dr Darog]

С варсира - там же обсужение

ПОСТЕР

It will be out one month before Prospero Burns, I think it will make a "duo" with the other book concerning the thousand sons and the space wolves.

Don't know if it's old news or not, but I haven't seen it elsewhere on the forum so far.

[Свинота безграмотная]

Мать моя женщина, постер просто ШИКАРНЫЙ. Магнус, даже в виде проекции - просто монстр. :D Нет слов... Тихо плачу в сторонке :D

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Реанн

[Dr Darog]

Мать моя женщина, постер просто ШИКАРНЫЙ. Магнус - просто монстр. :D Нет слов... Тихо плачу в сторонке :D

Ну, это обрез того большого постера, что я уже постил тут))) Там два пафосных постера с Магнусом и Руссом))) Второй я даже закажу себе в рамку на стену....

Так и знал, что парня с палочкой-выручалочкой поставят на обложку)))

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Свинота безграмотная]

Думаю, что этот трехтомник станет моей самой любимой книгой из НН :D . И если раньше говорили, что "Фулгрим" самая-самая из изданных, то посмотрим, что скажут, когда издадут эти.

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Реанн

[всевидящий слон]

кстати, а что у Магнуса на том постере с глазами?

O_o

[Дарт Йорикус]

кстати, а что у Магнуса на том постере с глазами?

O_o

У него с "Лживых Багов" два глаза на голове, но один из них как-бы зарос плотью. :)

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Йорик

[Свинота безграмотная]

кстати, а что у Магнуса на том постере с глазами?

O_o

Ну, не зря ж его называют Циклопом. Раз идея эпического циклопа не прошла, надо было что-то предпринимать :D

[WaRLoKK]

У Фозиса посох какой то стремный...на леденец похож =) А так шикарно!

[всевидящий слон]

да не, я не о том - какой из глаз заросший?)

если левый (для нас) - что с правым случилось? =)

если правый - то почему он такой пучезрительный? O_o

[Dr Darog]

да не, я не о том - какой из глаз заросший?)

если левый (для нас) - что с правым случилось? =)

если правый - то почему он такой пучезрительный? O_o

Он колдовство творит - ментальные нагрузки))

[Дарт Йорикус]

да не, я не о том - какой из глаз заросший?)

если левый (для нас) - что с правым случилось? =)

если правый - то почему он такой пучезрительный? O_o

Левый для нас зарос. А правый... Просто Магнус чем-то конкретно ошарашен. Типа - "._О, как я это сделал!???" :) Ну и ещё от колдовства, конечно. =)

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Йорик

[Свинота безграмотная]

Левый для нас зарос. А правый... Просто Магнус чем-то конкретно ошарашен. Типа - "._О, как я это сделал!???" :) Ну и ещё от колдовства, конечно. =)

Скорее: "О-о, кто к нам заехал на чай??" :D

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Реанн

[Dr Darog]

Из НН коллектор виженс - почти спойлер обеих книг

By Graham McNeill

» Нажмите, для отображения текста «

1-ая книга

КОСМИЧЕСКИЕ ВОЛКИ НАПАДАЮТ НА ПРОСПЕРО

Император послал примарха Русса с его Легионом Космических десантников, Космическими Волками, на планету Просперо, чтобы совершить правосудия над архи-еретиком Магнусом Рыжим. Примарху было приказано уничтожить Рыжего Волшебника и его Тысячу Легиона Сыновей. Тысяча Сыновей была осуждена и признана виновный в еретическом колдовстве и использовании силы варпа.

Чтобы помочь Руссу, Император поручил ему контингент собственных телохранителей - Кустодианцев. Это было верным признаком того, что миссия Примарха была полностью одобрена Императором. Русса сопровождал флот черных кораблей, которым было приказано привезти на Терру любого псайкера или колдуна, которые останутся на планете, после того, как с Тысячей Сыновей будет покончено.

Космические Волки открыли Сражение на Просперо орбитальной бомбардировкой. Райская планета быстро стала напоминать пустыню, прекрасные сады и храмы из стекла были разрушены до неузнаваемости. По сигналу Русса, Космические волки начали первый штурм…

2-ая

УНИЧТОЖЕНИЕ ПРОСПЕРО

Космические десантники Легиона Космических Волков Примарха Русса разрушили райскую планету Просперо, дом еретик Магнуса Р ыжего и его Легиона Тысячи Сыновей. Природная дикость Космических Волков была направлена против темного колдовства Хаоса.

Тысяча Сыновей открыли свое истинное лицо – колдунов , и Император уполномочил Русса наказать их за ересь.

Космическим Волкам помогли отряд телохранителей Императора, Legio Custodes, и Сестры Безмолвия. Последние были Неприкасаемыми, носителями гена парии, психическими пустышками, неуязвимыми к психическим воздействиям и проклятиям колдунов с Просперо .

Космические десантников и Кустодианцы должны были уничтожить Легион Магнуса во время сражения и арестовать мятежного Примарха. Сестры Безмолвия должны были арестовать и задержать любого выжившего псайкера для транспортировки на Землю. Где они должны были предстать перед судом и понести соответсвующее их грехам наказание.

Сотни сражений разгорелась на поверхности планеты, как только Космические Волки и Кустодианцы пошли в наступление после нападения на защиту Тысячи Сыновей. Так великолепный мир0-рай Просперо свирепость воинов Русса сровняла землей. Надо отдать должное Тысячи Сыновьям, они отрегировали быстро на неожиданное нападение, и их защита была хорошо организована и скоординирована. Они отвечали на огневую мощь лоялистсков смертельными колдовскими заклинаниями, освобождавшими темную ярость варпа на агрессоров. Легкой победой в этой войне нельзя было назвать…

3-ая книга

Битва за Просперо

Flames clawed at the lacerated sky, tearing the clouds with a hellish red light while dust and smoke billowed from a blasted silver tower as it toppled to the ground. Glass and gold and silver steel spun from the wreckage as it slammed into the ground, and a howling victory cheer burst from the throats of thousands of Space Wolves. The outer defences of Prospero's capital, Tizca, were in ruins, the once mighty walls of marble and gold cast down and reduced to blackened rubble. The warriors of the Thousand Sons who had manned them lay piled on pyres of books and scrolls, the abominable texts that had brought about their ruin burning alongside them.

The firelight leapt and danced over the breastplate of a giant figure in a fabulously ornate suit of golden armour, its every surface embossed with eagles, lightning bolts and martial symbols. He carried a long, bladed polearm, its adamantium haft topped with a bladed gun, and his red cloak, embroidered with a shining wreath of gold leaf billowed behind him, framing his powerful physique. Grim faced warriors clad in similar suits of golden armour flanked him, each carrying a long spear and protected by a peaked helmet of gold and silver embellished with long red plumes. Constaniin Valdor, chief custodian to the Emperor, watched with grim satisfaction as Russ's Wolves hurled yet more books and parchments into the inferno, confident that they would leave nothing of Magnus's lore behind. A chorus of howls echoed around the ruins and Valdor turned to see Russ himself atop the ruins of one of the great libraries of Prospero, bellowing his challenge to the surviving Thousand Sons in the city's last bastion. Ululating packs of his Wulfen warriors surrounded him, adding their howls to that of their liege lord. Though enhanced beyond the ken of mortal men, Valdor knew he was but a stripling compared to the might of Russ, the Primarch having been engineered by the Emperor to be the greatest warrior ever to bestride the galaxy.

Russ was magnificent and primal, garbed in a suit of gloriously elaborate armour and a wolf pelt cloak, with his wild mane of golden hair spiked and stiffened with blood. His fangs were bared and his sword glittered with frost as he brandished it high above his head. It seemed impossible that anything could stand against this warrior - continents had been sundered and armies slaugh-tered by his fury - but the warriors of Magnus had defied his armies for days now and Tizca had yet to fall. The great forests of Prospero were now ashen wastelands, its seas empty dustbowls and the silver and glass spires of its cities laid waste by days of orbital bombardment. The Hrafnkeland the shadowy craft of the Silent Sisterhood had pounded the surface of Prospero to oblivion, but still the Thousand Sons resisted, their magicks protecting their capital from harm while the rest of the planet burned.

Valdor turned as he felt the unmistakable presence of one of the Sisters of Silence approach, the instinctual animosity they engendered rising like bile in his throat. Though he was no psyker, being so close to one touched by the pariah gene was distasteful, as though his very soul rebelled at her nearness. Jenetia Krole was commander of the Silent Sisterhood. Her armour was golden, like his, but fluted and bedecked with wax-embossed purity seals. A long plume of scarlet hair trailed from her tattooed skull and a bronze visor obscured the lower half of her face. She said nothing, but she never did, allowing her eyes and body language to convey her wishes and orders.

'Your sisters are ready now to accompany the final assault?' asked Valdor, raising his voice to be heard over the renewed howling of the Space Wolves. Krole nodded, gesturing to where her Ice Leopard Witchseekers and Winter Hawks performed their pre-bartle rituals. Though the presence of the Silent Sisterhood was unpleasant for Valdor. He knew it was anathema to the sorcerers of the Thousand Sons. The Sisters represented their best chance of defeating their warp-spawned magicks.

He raised his long spear and his warriors gathered about him, their faces hardened to their duty. To bring a Primarch and his warriors to justice... The enormity and tragedy of their task was not lost on them, and despite their resolve to see the Emperor's will enacted, theirs was a heavy burden. Valdor marched towards the ruined library and shouted up 10 the Primarch of the Space Wolves.

'Russ. It is time.'

The giant warrior ceased his howling and loped towards him across the loose rubble and piles of burning books. Up close, the feral Primarch was even more imposing, his craggy features bursting with vitality and power. There was a wildness to Russ lhai did nor sit well with Valdor. a recklessness of spirit that jarred with his own strict discipline and dedication to duty.

Aye,' snarled Russ, gripping Valdor s shoulder. Time to cut the beating heart from that traitor! The reckoning between us is long overdue.'

Who will lead the assault?' said Valdor, feeling the great strength in Russ's grip.

'It will be Gunnarrsson and his 13th Great Company,' roared Russ. 'His warriors have earned much honour on the field of battle and I trust him like no other to carry this day!'

Tell him to make for the Athenaeum. It is the greatest library of Prospero. If the Cyclops chooses to stand, it will be with his treasury of knowledge.'

'Then he will die with his precious knowledge,' promised Russ. 'And to think I once called him brother. His betrayal has shamed us all and I will not suffer such dishonour.'

Valdor could feel his own anger at Magnus's betrayal rise to the surface, Russ's hatred for the Primarch of the Thousand Sons infectious with its single-minded puriry.

'Very well.' he said. 'Commence the attack.'

Bjorn ripped his crackling lightning claw from the body of a Thousand Son, howling in battle lust as he slew another of the betrayers. His fellow Space Wolves' blades were red with the blood of the enemy and their howls of triumph were pleasing to him. The red and white armour of the dead Thousand Sons were stained with their own blood, their armour rent open by axe and claw, but Bjorn felt nothing beyond hatred for the dead warriors. The Thousand Sons had cast off their oaths of loyalty to the Emperorand trafficked with the dark powers of Chaos. They were less than nothing to Bjorn now, simply oath-breakers who deserved nothing but death without honour.

Bjorn ducked as a coruscating explosion of purple light blossomed from the glass temple beside him, showering him in burning wreckage. Bolter shells and explosions filled the air, glass falling from the silver towers and pyramids of the city as it burned. Pillars of smoke twisted in the wind, cries of lament and pain mingling in the reeking air. Packs of snapping wolves ran alongside the Space Marines as they clawed their way through the city, arcs of flickering lightning leaping between the fluted spires of the city. Space Wolf tanks ground their way across marbled roadways, crushing golden statues of rearing lions and eagle-headed warriors beneath their tracks as they spat explosive shells into great libraries and halls of knowledge. Bolts of powerful energy flared and rippled through the statue-lined colonnades as bands of Thousand Sons warlocks attempted to hold back the charge of the Space Wolves with unclean sorcery. Bjorn saw Leiknir's Wulfen Pack tear one such band apart, rending them limb from limb with bestial fury as the guns of the Olfun riddled another with lasfire and missiles.

'This way!' shouted Bjorn to the warriors of his Legion. His many Wolf-shead tokens and pelts were ablaze from the battle, but he cared not. Fresh enemy warriors marched through the smoke and fire of battle towards them. At their centre stood a giant of a figure, encased in red and gold armour with a blasphemous, burning eye in the centre of his chest. He carried a scroll-wreathed staff with curved blades at either end, arcs of lightning rippled along its length. Bjorn felt his hackles rise at the sight of this figure, knowing that only one who had offered his soul to the dark gods would dare attempt to wield such terrifying power.

The Space Wolves let loose their feared battle howl as they charged, a ferocious lust to tear their enemies apart driving them through the hail of gunfire that erupted around them. The sorcerer lowered his staff and a bolt of incandescent fire shot from the blade, ripping through the ranks of the Space Wolves and hurling them through the air to smash through silver domes and golden walls. Bjorn landed heavily, feeling ribs break within his chest and pierce a lung. Bloody spittle gathered at the corner of his mouth and he roared in anger as he pushed himself clear of the rubble. Space Wolves lay dead around him, but he was undaunted as the sorcerer turned his gaze towards him, soulless balefires blazing behind the visor of his helmet.

He locked eyes with the sorcerer and knew that his death was seconds away at best, but as he surged to his feet he saw salvation in the blocky, angular form of Patrekr the Great Fanged. Three metres tall, the dreadnought stood silhouetted by the flames and smoke of battle, its mechanised, armoured body housing the remains of one of the Space Wolves' greatest heroes. Bjorn bellowed in laughter as Patrekr's guns opened fire, spraying the Thousand Sons with heavy calibre shells that ripped them apart in seconds, their bodies reduced to a fine mist of blood and torn flesh. Patrekr was one of the Old Ones, honoured and respected for their battle wisdom as much as their fearsome warrior skills, but Bjorn had a secret horror of one day becoming one of them, to be trapped forever in an iron sarcophagus, cut off front the thrill of battle and denied the pounding thunder of blood in his vains as he slew the enemies of the Emperor. To be condemned to such a life...

Bjorn shook himself free of debris and unsheathed his lethal claw as he saw that the sorcerer stood unharmed, kept safe by his evil magicks. A dark cous rain began to fall from the bruised clouds, thunder rumbled and the day was riven with tongues of forked lightning as the ground shook in the grip of a terrible earthquake. Rubble crashed down into the ruined thoroughfares and Bjorn felt as though the very fabric of the world was beginning to unravel.

'Fool!' bellowed the sorcerer. 'You think your simpleminded brutality are overcome power that has existed since before time itself? The Sceptre of Qetesh is raw power given form and function - it cannot be denied!"

'Enough talk,' snarled Bjorn. 'Let's fight!'

The sorcerer laughed as Bjorn sprang towards him and Patrekr unleashed a fresh salvo of fire. Each shell vanished in a purple haze as it struck thr sorcerer, explosions of flame billowing harmlessly around him. The black pooled in craters, pounding the city as it fell in an unending torrent and Bjorn felt as though he was charging through thick tar. He saw the loping forms of the Wulfen and the warriors of the Custodes Guard advancing through the murk, golden armour slick with black rain and red plumes heaping lank against their tall helmets. He swung his crackling lightning claw at his foe, but, with a gesture, the sorcerer halted Bjorn's blow, the tips of his claws dripping with rain inches from his chest.

Bjorn howled in fury, straining to push his hand forward, but unable to overcome the sorcerer's power. A flash of gold over his enemy's shoulder his eye and he saw lithe, nimble figures, also armoured in gold, but smaller than the Custodes and wearing long leather corsets over their armour towards him through the rubble. He recognised these figures for waht they were at the same instant as the sorcerer and had a brief moment of triumph as he sensed his opponent's fear. Newfound vigour coursed through" nullifying power of the Sisters of Silence enveloped the sorcerer and his lightning claw surged forwards to cleave the Thousand Son in two.

A thunderous explosion of psychic feedback hurled Bjorn through the air as the shorn halves of the corpse collapsed and he grunted as his splintered ribs tote the wound in his lungs open yet further. He rolled onto his side feeling a screaming, burning pain in his left arm and howled in fury as he saw a creeping corruption wreathing his hand. Glowing purple lines of lambent fire snaked their way up his arm, withering his flesh as they went. A shadow fell across him and he looked up into the stern features of Constantin Valdor, who stared at his dying arm with utter loathing.

Bjorn held out his arm and howled, 'Do it! Do it now!'

Valdor understood immediately, and with a sweep of his Guardian Spear chopped Bjorn's arm from his body with one blow. The withered arm hissed in the rain as it dissolved, but even as Bjorn mourned its loss, he knew Valdor had saved him.

The staff!' he shouted. 'Retrieve the staff, it was the source of his power!'

The Custodian nodded and turned to issue orders to his men when the eanh suddenly ceased its heaving and a terrifying figure bathed in red fire strode through the dark rain, droplets hissing from his feathered cloak. A blazing mane of fiery red hair whipped around him in a storm of psychic energies and the ground broke apart with each thunderous step he took. His copper skin burned as though cast from metal fresh from the forge and his single, baleful eye seared the very air with its power. Books and charms and thuribles hung from his fiery armour and great, carven horns sprouted like living things from his shoulders. A mighty axe screamed in his grip, its blade wreathed in unimaginable power.

Bjorn drew breath at the sight of the Cyclopean giant. Magnus the Red himself...

Perhaps there had been a lingering doubt in the back of his mind that the Thousand Sons had turned to the dark powers, but such doubt was now removed forever at the sight of the Legion's Primarch, and Bjorn watched with fierce pride as the Sisters of Silence, the Custodian Guard and the Wulfen stood ready to face the monstrous Primarch. Bolter fire paltered harmlessly from his armour and he laughed as his opponents charged towards him. They could not possibly defeat Magnus, but would give their lives in trying.

But even as the Cyclops raised his axe to smite them down, a silver tower crashed into the rubble-strewn street, cast down by a howling figure in bloody armour who raised his gore-smeared sword in challenge to the traitorous sorcerer. Wolf pelts and fangs adorned his armour and he threw back his leonine mane, giving voice to a deafening howl that echoed through the entirety of the city. Every one of the Space Wolves on Prospero answered with his own furious howl and Bjorn added his own voice to the chorus as the two Primarchs charged towards one another.

Between them, the Sceptre of Qetesh burned with a deathly fire and Bjorn knew thai whichever of these two living gods of battle was triumphant would claim the powerful artefact. Bjorn climbed to his feet and prepared to give whatever aid he could to his Primarch, knowing that the Battle for Prospero hung in the balance...

Valdor stood on the dais and scanned the gteat chamber. The fewThousand Sons who had survived the battle were fleeing the t'all, still being harassed by the two squads oflet-bike mounted Custodians. In a few scant minutes Valdor and his Custodian Guard had destroyed or routed more than five times their number of Space Marines, including a squad of Terminators and three of the deadly Red Sorcerers of Prospero. The Chief-Custodian turned to his comrades: We have achieved only a minor

victory here. These traitors fought well, better than I had expected them to. I7e still have a difficult task ahead of us. Prospero is yet to be won.'

Кто-нибудь слышал, что такое Sceptre of Qetesh?

Как я понял это отсылка к битве под Кадешем\Кинзой. Если кто помнит по истории, здесь очень много общего.

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Darog

[всевидящий слон]

Кто-нибудь слышал, что такое Sceptre of Qetesh?

Как я понял это отсылка к битве под Кадешем\Кинзой. Если кто помнит по истории, здесь очень много общего.

К.О.[noobie] : А не может ли это быть тот "леденец" с обложки? :)

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем eyeless

[Dr Darog]

К.О.[noobie] : А не может ли это быть тот "леденец" с обложки? :)

Неее, это обычный хекет - как я понял, этот мегастаффф был у Магнуса... вот обобрали палку у рыжего или нет, узнаем в книгах БЛ... в любом случае финал известен)

Изменено 6 июня, 2009 пользователем Darog

[всевидящий слон]

врятли обобрали - колдунство все-таки нехилое было в конце ;)

[Dr Darog]

врятли обобрали - колдунство все-таки нехилое было в конце ;)

По беку, он вроде сам наколдовал... хотя если эта палко делает просто нехилые порталы... то фигня. В любом случае после Просперо о том, что у Магнуса есть мегастафф ни слова, бегает все с топориком... В)