Already they have seen two 500 point games and three 1000 point games and won them all. Salamanders, Tau and even Tyranids have fallen to the crazy and perhaps slightly overpowered cult ambushes.
I have enjoyed playing them but victories of 13-2 are not as fun as closer games. 40k is a dice fest so sometimes luck does favour the opponent, but when victories are so landslide it makes me wonder whether the cult are perhaps too strong.
In time I hope things balance out. Ed fared well against them with his Tyranids but even against the might of the Salamanders Forge World vehicles, the cult stood strong.
So far my army is mostly unpainted but I have managed to get a few things completed. My Patriarch was sucked into the Warp on his first turn though, so I'm not entirely sure he deserved to be painted first.
During this painting session I also managed to finish my poor mans heavy weapons team. I constructed it from a las cannon that I found it in a bits box and two spare zombies from Zombicide. At first I didn't think they would cut it, but once I found a base and painted them up, I think it does the job.
The Dawn of the Star Blessed
Trembling internally, Janet ordered her unit to advance upon the behemoths before them. As the squad advanced, auto rifles emptying into the colossal beasts they considered their purpose. Moments after the arrival of their overlords, their Patriarch was taken from them. With a shriek he was dragged into a place beyond their understanding. He was damaged and infirm but, this was his chance to greet the chosen, to gain his reward. Yet he had been taken and the overlords had opened fire upon them. Were they not worthy? Were these false gods? The Brotherhood of the Star Blessed were workers not thinkers. While their minds told them to embrace death, their hearts ached for their father. They could not be sure of their purpose or if this was their time. Spreading out and advancing, they claimed most of the automated defence turrets. "I ain't ready to die boys! Take that big bastard down!" Roared Mustang, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Stubborn and proud, the veteran refused to let the incoming swarm claim him before his employment had even begun. At first he assumed it was the deal gone sour. That they had been sold out and left for dead. But the creepy bald workers under his command were clearly determined to take down the alien threat as much as he was. Concentrating his squads fire into the incoming Carnifex the unit made him proud. Grenades impacted into its carapace that cracked and erupted into vibrant green. Charging into the oncoming Goliath truck the monster slammed the vehicle onto its side and tore it in two. Out of the dust charged the hulking brutes from below. Gus swung his mighty hammer cracking it's hardy exterior like an egg shell. Beating his huge chest with his one free hand he roared in celebration. Opening up into a celebratory chant the workers continued onward. Across the battle field the Tyrant descended onto the hybrids. Slamming into the defence turret it swiftly ate its foes. Feeling a surge of satisfaction as it quenched its ever-lasting hunger it bounded on into the oncoming workers. Standing firm, Blazer directed the heavy weapons fire into the winged horror. Each swipe tearing a man apart. Out of the ground before them burst an even bigger assailant. As tall as a tower block it shot electricity down into the men below. Screeching in failure one of the women before Mustang burst as the bolt hit her. Feeling no remorse, he directed his units fire into the emerging termagants as the xenos weaponry ripped though more of his men. The concentrated fire from the orbital defence turrets had prevented any further reinforcements. Knowing their assault had ended in failure, the two remaining giants retreated. The tower tunnelled back from where it came as their leader took to the skies. Unable and unfit to pursue, the workers focused on the last remaining stragglers of the Tyranid scouting force. "We are all clear over at the mines," voxed in Hogarth. "They tried to get down into the facility but we cut them off." "Everything's clear up here too," patched in Commissar Harris. "You bastards did some fine work getting the defence turrets in action." "Thank you Sir," said Mustang as he congratulated his three remaining men. "I think we could all do with a drink... if you guys entertain that kind of thing." On the battlefield one of the Star Blessed lurched and screeched. Thrashing its head stretched and expanded as bolts of psychic energy tore up its adjacent brothers. Stopping in their celebrations the cult turned and kneeled. A new chosen one had been selected. What a glorious day it had been.