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Message par Administration Sam 14 Mai 2011 - 5:53

==> Liste des romans  de la série Horus Heresy

(Liste chronologiques, incluant les nouvelles non compilées dans les recueils)


Source = http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horus_Heresy



Novelization :

A series of novels based on the events of the Horus Heresy have been released by the Black Library (Games Workshop's publishing arm). The war is also the focus of Horus Heresy, a collectible card game produced by Sabertooth Games, and a wargame released by Games Workshop in 1993 with the same name.

The Horus Heresy novels are

  1. Horus Rising - Dan Abnett - April 2006
  2. False Gods - Graham McNeill - June 2006
  3. Galaxy in Flames - Ben Counter - Oct 2006
  4. The Flight of the Eisenstein - James Swallow - March 2007
  5. Fulgrim - Graham McNeill - July 2007
  6. Descent of Angels - Mitchel Scanlon - October 2007
  7. Legion - Dan Abnett - March 2008
  8. The Dark King and The Lightning Tower - Graham McNeill and Dan Abnett - June 2008 - Audio Book
  9. Battle for the Abyss - Ben Counter - August 2008
 10. Mechanicum - Graham McNeill - December 2008
 11. Tales of Heresy - Kyme & Priestley - April 2009[3]
 12. Fallen Angels - Mike Lee - July 2009[4]
 13. Raven’s Flight - Gav Thorpe - Feb 2010 - Audio Book
 14. A Thousand Sons - Graham McNeill - March 2010
 15. Nemesis - James Swallow - August 2010
 16. The First Heretic - Aaron Dembski-Bowden - October 2010
 17. Garro: Oath of Moment - James Swallow - 2010 - Audio Book
 18. Prospero Burns - Dan Abnett - December 2010
 19. Garro: Legion of One - James Swallow - 2011 - Audio Book
 20. The Age of Darkness - Christian Dunn - April 2011
 21. Promethean Sun - Nick Kyme - May 2011
 22. The Outcast Dead - Graham McNeill - November 2011
 23. Deliverance Lost - Gav Thorpe - January 2012

"A Thousand Sons" and "Prospero Burns" are a duology that will give accounts of the same story from the viewpoints of two opposing legions of space marines, the books listed as #14 and #18 on this list. "Descent of Angels" and "Fallen Angels" are two parts of a trilogy that includes a third book not in the above list.
[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 154919thefirstheretic[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 703219TheOutcastDead
[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 866925ProsperoBurns[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 399382AgeofDarkness
[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 526389PrometheanSun[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 267520deliverancelost


Dernière édition par Horus Lupercal le Ven 12 Aoû 2011 - 3:45, édité 1 fois
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Message par Administration Sam 14 Mai 2011 - 6:17

A ce jour (mi-mai 2011), il y a 6 titres de la série Horus Heresy attendus.
(Cliquez sur les "spoilers" pour en apprendre plus)



==> The First Heretic (sortie BL France en septembre 2011)

Spoiler:

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK The-first-heretic


==> Prospero Burns (Sortie BL France en octobre 2011)

Spoiler:

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK Prospero-Burns


==> Age of Darkness April 2011

Spoiler:

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK Age-of-Darkness


==> Promethan Sun Nick Kyme - May 2011

Spoiler:

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK Promethean-Sun


==> The Outcast Dead Graham McNeill - November 2011

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK The-Outcast-Dead


==> Deliverance Lost Gav Thorpe - January 2012

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK Deliverance-lost


*********************


A propos de Promethean Sun, voici une petite vidéo promotionnelle disponible sur le net :



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Message par Administration Jeu 30 Juin 2011 - 6:00

Un extrait (en anglais) du roman The Outcast Dead de Graham McNeill - qui sortira en Novembre 2011.

Disponible en clair sur son propre blog officiel.


[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 703219TheOutcastDead


Prologue

Abir ibn Khaldun exhaled cold air and saw myriad patterns in the swirling vapour of his breath, too many to examine fully, but diverting nonetheless. An inverted curve that augured danger, a genetically dense double helix that indicated the warriors of the Legiones Astartes, and a black planet whose civilisation had been ground to black sand by a cataclysmic war and the passage of uncounted aeons.

The mindhall was quiet, the metallic-tasting air still and cool, yet there was tension.

Understandable, but it made an already difficult communion that much harder.

The presence of the thousand-strong choir of astropaths surrounding Ibn Khaldun was like the sound of a distant ocean, or so he imagined. Ibn Khaldun had never heard any Terran bodies of water larger than the vast, basin cisterns carved within the lightless depths of the Urals and Alpine scarps, but he was an astropath and his life was swathed in metaphors.

Their psychic presence was dormant for now, a deep reservoir of energy he would use to distil the incoming vision from its raw state of chaotic imagery to a coherent message that could be easily understood.

‘Do you have communion yet?’ asked the Choirmaster, his voice sounding as though it came from impossibly far away, though he stood right next to Ibn Khaldun.

‘Give him time, Nemo,’ said Mistress Sarashina, her voice maternal and soothing. ‘We will know when the link is made. The astropaths of the Iron Hands are not subtle.’

‘I am aware of that, Aniq,’ replied the Choirmaster. ‘I trained most of them.’

‘Then you should know better than to rush this.’

‘I know that well enough, but Lord Dorn is impatient for news of his brother’s fleet. And he has a gun.’

‘No gun ever helped speed things up in a good way,’ said Sarashina.

Ibn Khaldun smiled inwardly at her gentle admonition, though the mention of the lord of the Fists reminded him how important this communion was to the Imperium.

Horus Lupercal’s treachery had overturned the natural order of the universe, and emissaries from the palace were shrill in their demands for verifiable information. Expeditionary fleets of Legiones Astartes, billions-strong armies of mortal soldiers and warfleets capable of planetary destruction were loose in the galaxy, and no-one could be sure of their exact locations or to whom they owed their allegiance. News of world after world declaring for the Warmaster had reached Terra, but whether such stories were true or rebel lies was a mystery.

The old adage that in any war, the first casualty was truth was never more apt than during a civil war.

‘Is it dangerous to link over so great a distance?’ asked Maxim Golovko, and Ibn Khaldun sensed the man’s natural hostility in the flaring crimson of his aura. ‘Should we have Sentinels within the mindhall?’

Golovko was a killer of psykers, a gaoler and executioner all in one. His presence within the Whispering Tower was decreed by the new strictures laid down after the great conclave on Nikaea, and Ibn Khaldun suppressed a spike of resentment at its hypocrisy. Bitterness would only cloud his perceptions, and this was a time for clarity like no other.

‘No, Maxim,’ said Sarashina. ‘I am sure your presence alone will be sufficient.’

Golovko grunted in acknowledgement, oblivious to the veiled barb, and Ibn Khaldun shut out the man’s disruptive psyche.

Ibn Khaldun felt a growing disconnection to the individuals around him, as though he were floating in amniotic gel like the princeps of a Mechanicum war-engine. He understood the urgency of this communion, but took care to precisely enunciate his incubating mantras. Rushing to link with an astropath he didn’t know would be foolhardy beyond words, especially when they were halfway across the galaxy and hurtling through the warp.

En route to an unthinkable battle between warriors who had once stood shoulder to shoulder as brothers.

Not even the most prescient of the Vatic had seen that coming.

Ibn Khaldun’s heart rate increased as he sensed another mind enter the sealed chamber, a blaze of light too bright to look upon directly. The others sensed it at the same instant and every head turned to face the new arrival. This was an individual whose inner fire was like the blinding glare of a supernova captured at the first instant of detonation. Mercury bright traceries filled his every limb, blood as light, flesh woven from incomprehensible energies and sheathed in layers of meat and muscle, skin and plate. Ibn Khaldun could see nothing of this individual’s face, for every molecule that made up his form was like a miniature galaxy swarming with incandescent stars.

Only one manner of being was fashioned with such exquisite beauty…

‘Lord Dorn?’ said the Choirmaster, surprise giving his voice a raised tone that turned his words into a question. ‘How did you…?’

‘None of the gates of Terra are barred to me, Choirmaster,’ said Dorn, and his words were like bright streamers ejected from the corona of a volatile star. They lingered long after he spoke, and Ibn Khaldun felt their power ripple outwards through the awe-struck choir.

‘This is a sealed ritual,’ protested the Choirmaster. ‘You should not be here.’

Dorn marched towards the centre of the mindhall, and Ibn Khaldun felt his skin prickle at the nearness of such a forceful, implacable psyche. The majority of mortal minds simmered with mundane clutter so close to the surface that even a novice could lift their thoughts without effort. Rogal Dorn’s mind was an impregnable fortress, hard-edged and unyielding of its secrets. No-one learned anything from Dorn he did not want them to know.

‘My brothers are approaching Isstvan V,’ said Dorn. ‘I need to be here.’

‘Communion has yet to be established, Lord Dorn,’ said Sarashina, clearly understanding the futility of attempting to eject a primarch from the mindhall. ‘But if you are to stay, then you may only observe. Do not speak once the link is achieved.’

‘I do not need a lecture,’ said Dorn. ‘I know how astropathic communion works.’

‘If that were truly the case, then you would have respected the warding seal upon this chamber,’ said Sarashina, and Ibn Khaldun felt the momentary flare of anger from behind the monolithic walls of Rogal Dorn’s mind fortress. Almost immediately it was followed by a mellow glow of begrudged respect, though Ibn Khaldun sensed this only because Dorn allowed it to be sensed.

‘Point taken, Mistress Sarashina,’ said Dorn. ‘I will be silent. You have my word.’

Ibn Khaldun dragged his senses away from the primarch; a difficult feat in itself, for his presence had a gravity that drew in nearby minds. Instead, he splayed his mind outwards into the echoing space of the vast chamber in which he lay.

Fashioned in the form of a great amphitheatre at the summit of the Whispering Tower, this chamber had been shaped by the ancient cognoscynths who first raised the City of Sight, many thousands of years ago. Their unrivalled knowledge of psychically-attuned architecture had been hard-won in a long-forgotten age of devastating psi-wars, but their arts were long dead, and the skill of crafting such resonant structures had died with them.

Amid the blackened mindhalls of the City of Sight, the Whispering Tower reached the farthest into the gulfs of space between the stars, no matter what lofty claims the Emperor’s grand architects might make of the ornamented spires they had built around it.

A thousand high-ranking astropaths surrounded Ibn Khaldun, seated in ever-ascending tiers like the audience at some grotesque spectacle of dissection. Each telepath reclined in a contoured harness-throne, appearing as shimmering smears of light in Ibn Khaldun’s consciousness, and he sharpened his focus as a subtle change in the choir’s resonance tugged at the edge of his perceptions.

The message was being drawn towards the tower.

Whisper stones set within the ironclad walls shone with invisible light as they eased the passage of the incoming message, directing it towards the centre of the mindhall.

‘He’s here,’ said Ibn Khaldun, as the presence of the sending astropath swelled to fill the chamber like a surge tide. The sending was raw and unfocussed, a distant shout straining for someone to listen, and Ibn Khaldun folded his mind around it.

Like strangers fumbling to shake hands in a darkened room, their thoughts slowly meshed, and Ibn Khaldun gasped as he felt the hard texture of another’s mind rasping against the boundaries of his own. Rough and sharp, blunt and pugnacious, this sending was typical of astropaths who spent prolonged periods assigned to the Iron Hands. Cipher codes flashed before him in a complex series of colours and numbers, a necessary synesthesia that confirmed the identity of both astropaths before communion could begin.

‘You have it?’ asked the Choirmaster.

Khaldun didn’t answer. To grasp the thoughts of another mind from so far away demanded all his concentration. Fluctuations in the warp, random currents of aetheric energy, and the burbling chatter of a million overlapping echoes sought to break the link, but he held it firm.

As lovers gained a slow understanding of their partner’s rhythms and nuances, so too did the union of minds become easier. Though to call anything of this nature easy was to grossly understate its complexity. Ibn Khaldun felt the cold wastes of the immaterium all around him, roiling like a storm-tossed ocean. And like the oceans of Old Earth, it was home to creatures of all shapes and sizes. Ibn Khaldun sensed them swarming around the bright light of this communion like cautious predators circling potential prey.

‘I have communion,’ he said, ‘but I won’t be able to hold it for long.’

The spectral outline of somewhere far distant began to merge with Ibn Khaldun’s sensory interpretation of the mindhall, like a faulty picter broadcasting two separate images on the same screen. Ibn Khaldun recognised the hazy image of an astropath’s chamber aboard a starship, one that bore all the stripped-down aesthetic of the X Legion. Figures appeared around him, like faceless ghosts come to observe. They were mist-limned giants of burnished metal with flinty auras, angular lines and the cold taste of machines.

Yes, this was definitely a ship of the Iron Hands.

Ibn Khaldun ignored the additional presences and let the body of the message flow into him. It came in a rush of imagery, nonsensical and unintelligible, but that was only to be expected. The psychic song of the choir grew in concert with his efforts to process the message, and he drew upon the wellspring of energy they provided him. Will and mental fortitude could cohere simple messages sent from planetary distances, but one sent from so far away would need more power than any one individual could provide.

Khaldun was special; an astropath whose skills in metapsychic cognition could transform confused jumbles of obscure symbolism into a message that even a novitiate could decipher. As the raw, urgent thoughts of the expeditionary astropath spilled into his mindscape, his borrowed power smoothed their rough edges and let the substance of the message take shape.

Ibn Khaldun interpreted and extrapolated the images and sounds together, alloying astropathic shorthand with common allegorical references to extract the truth of the message. There was art in this, a beautiful mental ballet that was part intuition, part natural talent and part training. And just as no remembrancer of a creative mien could ever truly explain how they achieved mastery of their art, nor could Ibn Khaldun articulate how he brought sense from senselessness, meaning from chaos.

Words sprang from him, reformed from the encrypted symbolism in which they had been sent. ‘The world of black sand, Isstvan,’ he said. ‘The fifth planet. The Legion makes good speed. Lord Dorn’s retribution flies true, yet the sons of Medusa will strike before even the Ravens or the Lords of Nocturne. Lord Manus demands first blood and the head of the Phoenix.’

More of the message poured through, and Ibn Khaldun felt some of the astropaths in the tiers above him perish as their reserves of energy were expended. Such was the import of this message that losses amongst the choir had been deemed acceptable.

‘The Gorgon of Medusa will be first warrior of the Emperor upon Isstvan. He will be the speartip that cleaves the heart of Horus Lupercal. He will be the avenger.’

Ibn Khaldun slumped back in his harness as the message abruptly ended, and allowed his breathing to return to normal. His mind began the tortuous process of reordering itself in the void left by communion’s end, but it would take many days rest to recover from this ordeal.

As always, he wanted to sit up and open his eyes, but the restraints of his harness and the sutured veil of skin over his empty eye sockets prevented him from doing either.

‘It is done,’ he whispered, his words echoing around the chamber as though he had shouted at the top of his voice. ‘There is no more.’

Mistress Sarashina took his hand and stroked his glistening brow, though his consciousness was already fading after such strenuous mental exertion. Lord Dorn loomed over him, a glittering nimbus of light playing around the golden curves of his battle plate, and the proximity of such naked power was like a defibrillating jolt that kept Ibn Khaldun from slipping into a recuperative trance.

‘Damn your impatience, Ferrus, you will be the death of me,’ hissed Dorn, his voice betraying a measure of the terrible burden he bore. ‘The plan requires you to follow my orders to the letter!’

The primarch of the Imperial Fists turned to the Choirmaster. ‘There is no more? You are sure this is the entirety of the message?’

‘If Abir Ibn Khaldun says there is no more, then there is no more,’ stated the Choirmaster. ‘The cryptaesthesians will filter the Bleed for any residual meaning or hidden subtexts, but Ibn Khaldun is one of our best.’

Rogal Dorn rounded upon the man. ‘One of your best? Why would you not employ your best telepath for so crucial a message?’

The Choirmaster exchanged a look with Sarashina, and Ibn Khaldun felt their unease as they formed the image of an astropath who had long since left the Whispering Tower for the lofty heights of secondment to a patrician house of the Navis Nobilite.

‘Our best is not among us yet,’ said the Choirmaster.

‘I ordered you to utilise every and all means to bring me reliable information from the frontier,’ said Dorn his hand closing over the onyx and gold pommel of his heavy-bladed sword. ‘Do any of you people understand what is at stake? I am forced to wage a war I cannot see, to fight a foe I cannot gauge, and the only way I can do that is if I know exactly what is happening en route to Isstvan. To save the Imperium, I need you to use only your best operatives. The truth is all that matters, do you understand?’

‘We understand all too well, Lord Dorn,’ said the Choirmaster after a moment’s hesitation.

‘Our best operative is returning to us as we speak,’ said Sarashina, ‘but he will not be in any state to help us. Not yet.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Rogal Dorn.

Sarashina sighed. ‘Because his mind must be remade.’


Source = The Outcast Dead - an extract


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Message par ERIK MORKAI Jeu 30 Juin 2011 - 23:11

Et la triste question que tout les fan du papier...les récits e books sortirons t' il en version papier =(



Edit Dark Apostle [Modo ON] Fais au moins un minimum attention à ton écriture (orthographe, ponctuation), de plus cette question a déjà été posé et nous n'avons pas de réponse. Merci! [Modo OFF]


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Message par Administration Ven 1 Juil 2011 - 3:59

ERIK MORKAI a écrit:Et la triste question que tout les fan du papier...les récits e books sortirons t' il en version papier =(

Nous n'en savons rien car pour le moment c'est surtout le contraire qui se pase, des oeuvres papiers devenant des eBooks...
Ce serait bien si la BL nous sortait un jour un recueil des nouvelles inédites diffusées sous forme d'eBook seulement (Garro : Oath of Moment et Garro : Legion of One notamment) ainsi que les textes inédits de leur magazine Hammer and Bolter.
d) Nathaniel Garro
d) Hammer and Bolter

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Message par Corax Sam 16 Juil 2011 - 11:59

Trés belle collection que l'Hérésie d'Horus, même en anglais cela donne envie d'acheter ces livres.


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Message par Administration Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 7:21

Clairement annoncé pour mars 2012, un roman inédit de Dan Abnett !

Au menu, un Word Bearers -VS- Ultramarines !


d) Know No Fear - The battle of Calth


Unaware of the wider Heresy and following the Warmaster’s increasingly cryptic orders, Roboute Guilliman returns to Ultramar to muster his Legion for war against the orks massing in the Veridian system. Without warning, their supposed allies in the Word Bearers Legion launch a devastating invasion of Calth, scattering the Ultramarines fleet and slaughtering all who stand in their way. This confirms the worst scenario Guilliman can imagine – Lorgar means to settle their bitter rivalry once and for all. As the traitors summon foul daemonic hosts and all the forces of Chaos, the Ultramarines are drawn into a grim and deadly struggle in which neither side can prevail.

Ignorant tout de la grande hérésie et suivants les ordres de plus en plus cryptiques du Maître de Guerre , Roboute Guilliman retourne à Ultramar afin de rassembler sa Légion pour une guerre contre les orks se massant dans le système Veridian. Sans avertissement, leurs alliés supposés de la Légion des Word Bearers lancent une invasion dévastatrice de Calth, dispersant la flotte des Ultramarines et abattant à tous ceux qui leur barrent la route. Cela confirme le pire scénario que Guilliman pouvez imaginer - Lorgar utilisent tous les moyens à sa disposition afin de régler leur rivalité une fois pour toute. Comme les traîtres invoquent d'immonde hôtes démoniaques et toutes les forces du Chaos, les Space Marines sont entraînés dans une lutte sombre et meurtrière dans laquelle aucune des parties ne peut prévaloir.


[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 642656KnownoFear

[Horus Heresy] News VO/UK 565103KnowNoFearhuge

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Dernière édition par Horus Lupercal le Ven 9 Déc 2011 - 3:16, édité 3 fois
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Message par Invité Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 8:19

Ouah! ouch
Ce serait pas une sorte de suite à La Bataille des Abysses ?
Dans tous les cas je suis impatient de pouvoir lire le recit de cette bataille, ça va être monumental.
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Message par Ackie Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 11:11

Ce roman à l'air très intéressant et il semble en effet que ce soir une suite de la bataille des abysses étant donné qu'ils se battent déjà contre les Word Bearers à la fin. En tout cas la pochette est très belle. (Par contre on va devoir attendre longtemps pour l'avoir en français!)


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Message par Dakka Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 15:55

Cool,
Voilà une vraie news pour moi, ça fait plaisir!
Depuis le temps ou je rève d'un livre ou les Ultramarines mangent sévère, je crois que ça va être celui-ci... écrit par Abnett en plus!
Par contre pour être chiant, j'aime pas la couverture, non, j'aime pas voir un ultra décapiter un Word Bearer avec un crochet...
Plus sérieusement la couverture est sympa.

Par contre ça m'étonnerait que ce soit une suite de la Bataille des Abysses...


Is Finecast using diamond mixed with cocaine?

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Message par Corax Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 19:01

Encore un futur super livre sur l'Hérésie d'Horus ayant en Guest Star les Ultramarines de Roboute Guillimann et les Word Bearers de Lorgar. Et en plus écrit par le grand maître Dan Abnett, notre maître à tous.


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Message par Ackie Dim 17 Juil 2011 - 19:04

Corax a écrit:Dan Abnett, notre maître à tous.
LOL


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Message par Invité Lun 18 Juil 2011 - 15:12

D'accord, pas une suite littéraire à La Bataille des Abysse, mais une suite logique aux événements narrés dans ce roman. Dans tous les cas ça promet de la grosse baston entre deux légions particulièrement pugnaces.

fist


Dan Abnett notre maître à tous ? Why not ? LOL
Faudrait faire un petit sondage pour classifier nos auteurs préférés de la Black Library.
(c'est une suggestion, un new topic ?)

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Message par ERIK MORKAI Mar 19 Juil 2011 - 0:08

Ah j'avais pas vue que cette bonne nouvelle était présenté ici dsl horus j'ai fait un post inutile dans une autre rubrique. En tout cas tout ca promet !


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Message par Administration Sam 23 Juil 2011 - 3:11

Du nouveau concernant le roman The Outcast Dead de Graham McNeill à paraître en novembre 2011 (en anglais) :
Il y a maintenant un texte de présentation !


==> THE OUTCAST DEAD de Graham McNeill

The galaxy is burning. The Emperor’s loyal primarchs prepare to do battle with Warmaster Horus and his turncoat Legions on the black sand of Isstvan. Such dark times herald new and yet more terrible things still to come, and when Astropath Kai Zulane unwittingly learns a secret that threatens to tip the balance of the war, he is forced to flee for his life. Alongside a mysterious band of renegades, he plunges into the deadly underworld of Terra itself, hunted like a criminal by those he once trusted. In the face of betrayal, Kai must decide where his own loyalties lie and whether some truths should be buried forever.
November 2011 • ISBN 9781849700863


La galaxie est en flammes. Les primarques loyaux à l'Empereur préparent une bataille contre le Maître de Guerre Horus et ses légions renégates sur le sable noir d'Isstvan. Des temps si sombres annoncent l'arrivée de choses nouvelles mais terribles, et quand l'astropathe Kai Zuylane découvre involontairement un secret qui menace de faire basculer la balance de la guerre, il est forcé de fuir pour sa survie.
Aux côtés d'une mystérieuse bande de renégats, il plonge dans les bas-fonds mortels de Terra elle même, chassé comme un criminel par ceux à qui il faisait jadis confiance. Face à la trahison, Kai doit décider à qui va sa loyauté et si certaines vértités devraient rester entérrées pour toujours.
(traduction : Varney)



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Dernière édition par Horus Lupercal le Dim 24 Juil 2011 - 3:30, édité 2 fois
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Message par Dakka Sam 23 Juil 2011 - 4:03

Je n'ai toujours pas retrouvé ce site dont je te parlais, mais ce texte y étais...
Si quelqu'un trouve se site (il présente la totalité des livres de la BL, qu'il nous donne son lien ce serait sympa... Wink


Is Finecast using diamond mixed with cocaine?

La Galaxie en Flammes, le forum français de l'Hérésie d'Horus.
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Message par sanguinius62 Sam 23 Juil 2011 - 10:38

un roman sur la bataille de calth ? sa promet. vivement qu'il sort.


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Message par Corax Sam 23 Juil 2011 - 11:01

Oui vivement qu'il sorte pour en savoir plus sur cette terrible bataille entre deux Légions


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Message par Invité Mar 26 Juil 2011 - 7:57

Un roman que je viens de remarquer et que je vais attendre avec une certaine impatience : Know No Fear - The battle of Calth.
En plus ce sera du Dan Abnett, du tout bon. Smile

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Message par Corax Mar 26 Juil 2011 - 8:55

Exactement le must des Ecrivains de la Black Libray et du WH40K


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Message par Administration Sam 6 Aoû 2011 - 9:47

Une photo du roman The Outcast Dead de Graham McNeill que ce dernier vient de recevoir au courrier.
(posté sur sa page fb The Fortress of Hera )

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Message par Corax Sam 6 Aoû 2011 - 10:00

Vivement qu'il soit dans ma bibliothèque celui là et tous les autres sur l'Hérésie d'Horus. Razz


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Message par Administration Ven 12 Aoû 2011 - 3:43

Du nouveau concernant le roman Deliverance Lost de Gav Thorpe à paraître en janvier 2012 (en anglais) !
En voici une brève présentation plus complète :

==> DELIVERANCE LOST de Gav Thorpe

Corax and the few remaining Raven Guard escaped the massacre at Isstvan V but must now tend their wounds and replenish their numbers before they can return to the fray. Listless and distraught, the primarch returns to Terra to seek the Emperor’s counsel and is guided to the ancient genetech used to create the first Space Marines. While he seeks to rebuild his Legion and seek vengeance upon the Emperor’s Children for their betrayal, Corax is unaware that the shadowy agents of the Alpha Legion move among the Raven Guard, and that his own survival has merely been part of a far greater plan.
January 2012

Corax et et quelques rares survivants de la Raven Guard ont échappé au massacre sur Istvaan V, mais ils doivent maintenant s'occuper de leurs blessures et reconstituer leur nombre avant qu'ils ne puissent revenir dans la guerre. Apathique et désemparé, le Primarque retourne sur Terra afin de consulter un conseillé de l'empereur et est guidé vers l'ancienne Genetech, utilisée pour créer les premiers Space Marines. Alors qu'il cherche à reconstruire sa Légion et se venger des Emperor's Children pour leur trahison, Corax ignore que des agents de l'ombre de l'Alpha Légion sont infiltrés parmi les Raven Guard, et que sa propre survie fait simplement partie d'un plan beaucoup plus vaste.

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Dernière édition par Horus Lupercal le Lun 22 Aoû 2011 - 5:53, édité 1 fois
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Message par Blacksun Ven 12 Aoû 2011 - 4:18

ah bien.....enfin un peu plus sur Corax...Bien que j'aime bien celui du forum lol! .......en espérant les autres primarques....tel que le khan par exemple...je boue d'impatience.....trop long ce mois d’août....


L'Hérésie nait de l'inaction.... aigle1

En avant pour Maccrage...et nous ne connaîtrons pas la peur.... roboute
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Message par Invité Ven 12 Aoû 2011 - 6:22

J'ai déjà lu le résumé de ce roman quelque part... rire1
Mais c'est bien sûr ! C'est du fluff officiel ! rire2
Faudra quand même attendre l'année prochaine pour profiter de cette suite de l'hérésie, ça va faire long.

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